Wolf at the Door

Robertson's A Greek Grammar of the New Testament in the Light of Historical Research arrived from AbeBooks and I am absolutely delighted with it! In my opinion, the Victorian/Edwardian Grammarians/Exegetes still stand head-and-shoulders above their modern equivalents and no amount of clever linguistic shenanigans or novel exegesis will ever replace the awesome scholarship of the likes of Farar, Lightfoot, Swete and their ilk.
Other books for the doctoral studies come in on a regular basis and, to be quite honest, they are pretty dull fare that are easier to buy than wait my turn for at the library. Henceforth, I shan't necessarily mention them by name unless they are particularly interesting. I can always sell them later, I suppose.

I did buy a second-hand Penguin Classics copy of Petronius' Satyricon through Amazon, which I had been intending to do for some time, having read and enjoyed The Golden Ass by Apuleius some time back. In the main I'm not big on Latin literature (finding it pretty turgid fare) but for the Roman 'novel', I make an exception. I may take it with me to Milan. Or I may not. Regular readers will already know that I am extremely picky about what reading matter I take abroad with me, demanding works which are simultaneously well-written, diverting, absorbing, but not too heavy-going. I have identified a new Alexander McCall Smith - Corduroy Mansions (or some such) in Waterstones, but I am actually reading Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall, which kept me captivated on my train journey down to uni. for my PhD 'upgrade' panel. She is an excellent writer (although didn't like her Beyond Black much), clever enough to keep me intrigued, but accessible enough for the plot to advance at a satisfying pace. I am simultaneously working through a generic sort of book that gives etymologies of words that have made it into the English language, but only v-e-r-y slowly as after a while one stops caring about individual word histories. The pile of unfinished stuff at the side of the bed grows ever-bigger, but I've stopped feeling quite so guilty about it as I used too. One book I did finish was Neil Gaiman's American Gods, but it doesn't get onto my list of great novels (I seem to be in a minority here). I just felt that amongst the verbosity and meandering digressions was a much leaner, better book, waiting to get out. Sadly, it didn't. And I couldn't have cared less about the main character 'Shadow' either, which didn't help. Daughter #3 was working her way through Marina Lewycka's Short History of Tractors in Ukranian. Having received that author's Two Caravans for her birthday, she immediately started to read that, abandoning SHoTiU! Tut! The youth of today!