To the Lighthouse

After reading that book I cast Virginia Woolf into the outer reaches of being ignored. It was in that period when, just as you had to finish what was on your plate (that hangover from rationing that lurks in many of us still), a book once started had to be read to its end.

These days I will readily abandon an unpleasing book, but I still clear my plate. I can still hear ”think of the starving children in Africa.”