To the Lighthouse

Since struggling through Virginia Woolf's brutally dull To the Lighthouse, I have tried to find a valid defense of this modernist classic. It's one of Time's 100 greatest English novels of all time, and it supposedly takes the stream-of-consciousness writing style that worked well in Mrs. Dalloway to a whole new level. My ass. This book is dull, dull, dull. Nothing happens. Woolf may have been many things, but this frankly does not showcase her talent. In fact, you'd be better served reading her Wikipedia page - her personal life is far more interesting than this insipid book.

Up next: I'm treating myself to Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky's new-ish translation of Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace. I love the Russians, but was rushed through my first reading of this classic. That, combined with the phenomenal translating team of Pevear/Volokhonsky, has me giddy with anticipation!