Bulgakov, Bulgakov

I've had every intention to get back to this.  I've thought about how gosh dang useful it's going to be, here in just over two months, when I have to sit down and actually write this crazy exam.  I've considered how many details I will better be able to remember if I take the time to write them out (kinesthetic learner, you see).

And then I've thought, hey, wasn't there an episode of Fringe I never got to?  Or what have you.

(and in searching for some nice Fringe-related image, I managed to discover that there is a hidden code in these between-breaks glyphs, which now I will be obsessed with tracking… you have an exam, you have an exam, you have an exam)

Really, the worst obstacle that came up was actually directly related to what should have been most helpful:  my modernism seminar last term.  After coming up with the idea for this blog, it occurred to me, hey, what an easy way to knock a couple dozen titles off my list:  take my notes from class and write 'em up on the blog, save myself the trouble of having to come back to it later.

But then I thought, oh, I'm a couple weeks late thinking of it.  A couple weeks is a couple poets is a dozen poems, and by then it felt far too onerous.

So I read the sequels to Howl's Moving Castle instead.

Alright, I also read all those modernist poems.  And the Tatyana Tolstaya short story from the list, and one of Pelevin's, and the Tyutchev poems, and started both And Quiet Flows the Don and Doktor Zhivago, and have about finished Olesha's Envy (super weird Christmas reading, by the way).  And I finished Bulgakov's Master and Margarita and The Heart of a Dog.

So now I am going to suck it up and *write* about them.  Because that's really what's going to help, right?