It's hard to believe, but my European archival adventure is quickly coming to an end. In a way, it seems like much more than 5 weeks have gone by. I don't know if that's because so many of my days started to blend together thanks to the whirl and click of microfiche (a surreal experience…
For a while, what with all this moving and settling I was becoming frantic, schizophrenic, and even, perhaps, necrophilic, combined with anguish, frustration and ill-temper. But, finally getting into the book-work again, I find I work awfully slowly. There is so much that has been written, by people so much more professional than I, that I…
Dining with Dostoevsky 