Briefly, on Books

Back then, before things got bad, the Queen of the World gave Annie and me the type of Hanukkah present that is always the right size: books. For me, she had bought Irene Nemirofsky's Suite Francaise. Written by a French woman hiding in Southern France, the book is really a book of manners, set rivetingly during the evacuation from Paris during the Hitler's assault.

Like an idiot, instead of just thanking her for the thoughtful gift, I informed the Queen that I had just received a copy of the book from my older sister.

My thought process: How funny that two women about whom I care decided to
purchase me the same book!

How it came across: You got me a redundant book, you fool!

The Queen encouraged me to exchange her gift, even suggesting other books I would like, but I never got around to it and now I cannot bring myself to return the book. To top it off, in addition to owning two copies of the same book, I can't seem to get through it. I keep starting and stopping. This article in Jewcy spoke precisely to my predicament. I've really got to read this book.