1. Even though I've read several of Henry James' novels, I'd have to go back and reread, or read anew, to find out if this is satire or an injoke or a reasonable interpretation. And I still wouldn't, probably, because I had no idea what was going on in The Wings of the Dove when I first read it and wouldn't have now. A friend once casually said 'and then when Kate sleeps with Densher' and I was 'She does? Where? How can you tell"! So I doubt I'd recognize a gay man, even a dramatic one, if James presented him to me.
What amazes me is that *anyone* can tell what's happening in a James novel.
2. So, dry warm weekend, what shall I read? The plow stuff- Cellini, Murakami's Kafka, or a committed dive into Terra Nostra? Or The Dalemeark books from Spellcoats on so I can finally read The Crown of Dalemark? And get them all off the shelves because I never cared for that cycle at all. Or The Book of Life, so I can get *them* off the shelves before the end of the month.
3. Come home to a letter from the gov't saying I've been approved for the Guaranteed Income Supplement. Google to ascertain whether this is or isn't Old Age Assistance under another name. Apparently not. It's an extra $1000 a month from fedgov, as long as it lasts. (Which will be till markets recover and my dividends ie net income goes up.) Callooh! Callay! A laptop, finally! My Birks resoled! A little trip somewhere! Err- those teeth needing repair. A new gas stove. Tuckpointing. (droops) Oh well. It's still money and it doesn't come out of my capital.