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I saw my grandfather today. He seemed mostly okay--he was always quiet--at least until he opened his mouth. Then it was obvious that he was forgetting things we had just said, or wasn't able to follow the conversation or understand it when it was explained to him.
At least he remembered who we were. My grandmother didn't.
I just finished reading Darwinia by Robert Charles Wilson, which I thought was going to be a book about an alternate ecology (in the vein of War Against the Chtorr), but instead turned into some weird sci-fi battle all taking place inside a computer with little to no exploration of the new ecology that replaced Europe. Quite a let down. I've since started reading Kazuo Ishiguro's An Artist of the Floating World, though I haven't gotten very far with that yet. It's primarily the reminiscences of an artist about his life after his retirement. It's a nice counterpoint to the fantasy stuff I usually read.
I was really looking for Haruki Murakami's Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, but the library didn't have it.
At least he remembered who we were. My grandmother didn't.
I just finished reading Darwinia by Robert Charles Wilson, which I thought was going to be a book about an alternate ecology (in the vein of War Against the Chtorr), but instead turned into some weird sci-fi battle all taking place inside a computer with little to no exploration of the new ecology that replaced Europe. Quite a let down. I've since started reading Kazuo Ishiguro's An Artist of the Floating World, though I haven't gotten very far with that yet. It's primarily the reminiscences of an artist about his life after his retirement. It's a nice counterpoint to the fantasy stuff I usually read.
I was really looking for Haruki Murakami's Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, but the library didn't have it.
