Must stop buying books. Won't stop buying books. Thus I wind up with Conan Doyle's Tales of Terror and Mystery which fantods me in spades. Not that the content is all that innovative: could see what was coming a mile away in the three I've read so far. But like MR James' ghost stories, they express perfectly a sense of time and place. Do this with not particularly nice places (or times) and the result is instant nightmare. Should wash it away with a few pages of 1Q84 which is being intensely flat-footed to date, even when the action involves murder. Actually, *especially* when the action involves murder. Am waiting for the surrealism I've been promised and only have a whisper of it so far.