Badlands, Robert Kroetsch


“There are no truths, only correspondences.”

This week, I  failed to read. I meant to, but then people texted me and I had to stay at work later than planned and unexpected things happened, as they always do, but the sum total of my days didn’t include as many books as I’d hoped.

It’s a mixed bag. I hate that saying, because everyone taught us not to use cliches, but it is what it is. I’m happy that I’ve spent time this week with my favourite people. Last night I was at Matthew’s for a few hours and I left feeling more like myself than I have in weeks. I went home and read a book – this book, in fact – but then I got to bed late and was tired at work this morning. That’s the mixed part of the bag. Bookstravaganza is not accommodating to social engagements.

I’m on this Canadian author kick. If I can’t see the people I like because I’m too busy reading, I might as well be reading books that remind me of the places that we’d usually hang out. Robert Kroetsch is exactly what I needed. Badlands is sort of a book about dinosaur bones. It’s also a book about the folly of male ambition, so it unintentionally lines up with the Cheryl Sandberg book I read earlier.

I’ve somehow never read Kroetsch before! Nobody made me! I have two more of his books on my stack, so we can remedy the whole thing. I’ve always known of his writing peripherally (I mean, we live in Edmonton, you can’t not know who he is) but I’d never found my way to his books. At a Words with Friends event at Brittany’s Lounge last year, someone was handing out a bunch of free books and I ended up with this and a couple of others. I’m happy that happened. His words read like they grew straight up out of the prairies.

Books read: 13, I think


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