I finished A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen a few weeks ago and I enjoyed it. It was a play. I think I would have enjoyed it more if I would have seen it performed. It must have been a shocker in its day because the heroine Nora Helmer defied the 19th centuries ideals for a housewife. Torvald and Nora were seemingly a happy married couple throughout the play but by the end Nora leaves him.
I have a friend from high school who goes to school at Tulane University in New Orleans. We took A.P. Lit and Comp together our senior and enhanced out already great appreciation for books. We now have a book club back and forth once a month. This month we are reading The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. I am on part two of three and I like it so far. I haven't much time anymore to read but I read when I can. It's calming, even though, with this club, it sometimes feels like a chore.
It amazes me how observant authors are and how they can put their observations into writing. That is something I aspire to do as well. It also amazes me how authors can make such intricate characters. It is hard to take a figment and make it real. It is harder to take another figment, make real but different from the other figments, an individual. It seems like God's work. Perhaps that is why writing is so driving, sometimes overpoweringly so, to authors; it gives the mortal man a chance to be a god in world where he can never be one, where he is nothing more than a character.
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