I don´t think you want to know about all I´m reading now (books about Fiction, two biographies, a study about women´s social evolution). I admit: I have to control myself in order not to add another item to the already overloaded list. I´m a chaotic, passionate, compulsive reader (you´ll always find books hanging around me, underneath my cloths, hidden between my dance material, in my bathroom, kitchen, garden, gym bag…you name it… no matter what I´m doing or where I am, you´ll always find a book attached to my “derrière“) – it´s an addiction like any other (perhaps slightly less harmful than drugs or alcohol).
Let´s ignore the group I´m carrying around these days and focus on one of them: Virginia Woolf´s Selected Essays. Asking me to describe it would be like asking a kid to describe what he feels when he enters a candy shop: too sweet and overwhelming for words. All I can do is (highly) recommending it. If you love books or you enjoy having an interesting conversation with an intelligent, hilarious, thought provoking companion, this book is for you.
Here´s the best review I can offer to the book: while I´m reading it, I see myself and Virginia Woolf on an English garden (light breeze, flowers blooming, one or two birds listening to us), sitting on fancy wooden chairs, sipping our 5 o´clock tea that will turn, no doubt, into an 8 o´clock tea, 10 o´clock tea, 12 o´clock tea and so on. Endleness, addictive, doors´opening conversation, the kind that makes you forget about Time. That´s it: that´s what this book is all about.