of dreams of Pelagia

"And you don't poison a musician, not even an Italian;"

This line made me chuckle.

I am about halfway through reading Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Bernières, finding myself totally enrapt in the book and wondering why I haven't read it before. I started it last weekend, after I'd finished reading Unknown Soldiers by Väinö Linna but had then abandoned Brian Moynahan's Leningrad: Siege and Symphony after hardly scratching the surface. I simply found it too dark for my mood at the time, but will likely return at some point.

At the point that I decided to put it down however, I was afloat in Fowey Harbour and my phone without connection. Unusual these days, even at sea, as long as you're within sight of land, but then this was Cornwall. So I had to settle for whatever I could find already on my Kindle.

And there it was. I don't remember when or why I bought it. I certainly don't remember downloading it. But I must've done both, and am happy that I did.