I finished reading Les Miserables today while waiting for the train. I read the last thousand iPhone pages over today and yesterday, last night I stayed up reading until 2. It all came together at the end and in the last fifty pages I couldn’t wait to see what was going to happen next.
Was it worth the read? Yeah I think so. Especially after I read the beginning of some other new book right afterwards and I was like, well this sucks.
Now I have to read this book by Haruki Murakami called Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World because my coworker foisted it on me the other day at work. I’m sure it will be fucking-a-amazing. My first Murakami book. But I was planning on reading something else. Like Catch-22 again.
Today I learned why living rooms are called living rooms. They used to be called parlors. People would get married in the parlor, they would even have funerals in the parlors. That’s why funeral parlors started up later when death became a business. And then sometime around the mid 1900s, people became less comfortable with death as it wasn’t happening all the time any more, and they decided they didn’t want this gloomy Victorian trinket room in their houses, where people sometimes died, so they changed the parlors to “living rooms” instead. And it’s as simple as that.