Middlesex

I self-identify as being a big reader. This is pretty much a lie. I was a big reader. Now? Not so much. I just haven’t been able to find the time anymore.

One of the best things about getting stuck in jury selections for three days is that I suddenly found myself with all kinds of time to read. In December, I had started reading Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. Two months later and I was maybe 100 pages in—indicating less than two hours of reading time in that period.

While I couldn’t read in court, all the waiting to report gave me a good 1–2 hours to read each day. All of a sudden I was almost done with my book. When I returned to my work schedule, I was pleased to find that I’m actually able to both read and enjoy just a single chapter each night. At the same time, I’ve found that I still have to be extremely aware of when the next chapter is. I was always the kid who would start reading at 7:00 only to finish the book at 2:00 in the morning. It appears that I’m still that kid and that I have to force myself to put the book down.

This all also speaks well of the book. I don’t mean for this to be a book review but I can say that I enjoyed reading Middlesex. Having the narrator be intersex provides an interesting new take on the coming-of-age novel. And tracking the family history as it weaves through Detroit’s history provides a couple of nice time capsules about America in the 20th century.

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