I attended a sustainability forum in Wadham tonight, followed by a fancy dinner. I even got to see a well situated and previously unexplored room in college. Much more enjoyable, however, was spending a couple of hours later in the night reading aloud from Stanislaw Lem’s Mortal Engines, Simon Singh’s Fermat’s Last Theorum, Vladamir Nabokov’s Lolita, Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, and chapters 2-47 of Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.
I really love fiction, and quite enjoy reading aloud. With unfamiliar text, it can be quite challenging, even in the best of circumstances. You need to develop an intuition for the shape of an author’s phrases, so that you can start speaking the first portion without reading the end. Perhaps, that explains why I appreciate Nabokov so much and never enjoyed Faulkner. I don’t think you could read the latter aloud, except in halting steps where an entire sentence was decoded before the first syllable was uttered.