From One Book Lover

As I was dusting my nightstand, I found myself rather impressed by my stack of books to be read. I think I need to have my head examined because I haven't finished  Hamilton: The Revolution . I even have it on Audible. And yet. Unlike any other Hamilton-related experience, I am savoring the book. Plus, I just finished the chapter about Christopher Jackson, my Washington, and I want to spend an extra moment with him. I think I'll make it a summer read. Interestingly, the book I am reading on my Kindle I also own in print — the latest translation of  Anna Karenina , translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. I hadn't really pondered translations until recently, when Oprah Winfrey's embrace of the new translation was chosen for her book club, and I heard a podcast featuring a strongly praised audiobook version of  Don Quixote . I have another translation on my Kindle, and whenever I read a delicious line in the newer book, I pull up the other translatio...

Elizabeth Kostova always has something interesting lurking in her books. They always begin very straightforward with an engaging premise: a girl encounters her father's letters, a psychiatrist has a silent, violent patient referred to him.  It's a nice hook, one you think you can see coming. However, Kostova veers off the tried-and-true path into an undiscovered country.  After reading The Historian , I knew I'd follow her anywhere — and yet I was skeptical when I discovered the premise of The Swan Thieves .  Blame it on my inability to draw or paint, or maybe my intimidation of Art History (note the initial caps) — but I was not sure if it was my cup of tea. What was I thinking? It was Elizabeth Kostova .  'Nuff said. In her second novel, Kostova introduces us to Andrew Marlow, a psychiatrist and painter who has a sad, silent patient referred to him. The psychiatric patient, Robert, was arrested for trying to knife a painting at the National Gallery of Art....