A benefit of the year of COVID was supposed to be that, unflattened by the daily grind, we could expand into new areas of intellectual interest. At the beginning of the lockdown I checked in with two colleagues: One was reading Eusebius, the other explained a sentence in Wittgenstein’s Tractatus. That was the spirit. For me, I read — Sherlock Holmes stories.
Not those alone. I read some 19th-century novels (read, in this context, means read aloud; I have a mature adult wife with the requirements, and the keen attention, of a five-year-old). But when we were done with these, we …
Something to Consider
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