None But Eagles

Last night I spent a few hours rereading This Tragic Universe by Scarlett Thomas instead of sleeping. In spite of its flaws I love it at lot, probably mostly for the part where the narrator learns to knit socks from a book in a rented cottage on the seaside and then goes to the pub next door to drink beer while she knits and the bartender offers her free firewood and beer in exchange for a pair of socks. The only tragic thing about the universe is that I lack the patience to learn how to knit socks myself.

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