I'm back, after what I suspect is the longest break from blogging that I've taken during my three years of writing this site. It was nice to be away--I visited my parents in Oregon, read a lot of books, took a lot of walks in the woods, cooked myself in front of many toasty fires, drank a lot of coffee and baked many batches of brownies, talked a lot with my loved ones, made a lot of plans, did a lot of freelance work, and thought a lot about the whys and wherefores of life. This is a lovely time of year in southern Oregon--the wild turkeys are mating, the wildflowers are blooming, and the Canada geese are passing through, occasionally using my parents' roof as a landing strip. During the visit, there was a trip to a wolf sanctuary, a hike up a mountain, and of course, on Easter morning, the obligatory egg hunt. I saw Master and Commander, Shrek, and Some Like It Hot for the first time; I read, also for the first time, Louis de Bernieres' novel about the fall of the Ottoman empire, Birds Without Wings; Anita Shreve's imaginative rethinking of the ax murders that took place on an island off the coast of New Hampshire in 1873, The Weight of Water; and Jonathan Krakauer's remarkable journalistic account of how a young man's quest for spiritual transcendance went fatally wrong in the Alaska woods, Into the Wild. All are excellent, compelling reads.

While I was away, Critical Mass turned three--but I was so busy with other things, and I was so enjoying my uncharacteristically long and unguilty hiatus, that I did not even realize the anniversary had passed until yesterday. I would say that the realization made me pause to reflect on meaningful, bloggerly sorts of things. But that would be precious and untrue. I simply laughed at myself for missing my blog's birthday by two weeks, and said something like, "Damn, I've been typing a lot."

I did miss writing Critical Mass while I was away, and I'm glad to be back. School starts Monday, so I'll shortly be swamped again by the boarding school routine, but I am determined to find more time to post. I haven't liked the way that my day-to-day work obligations have overtaken the life of this site and I want to see that change in the coming weeks.

Meanwhile, I'm looking forward to seeing how John Holbo's new blog project, The Valve, shapes up, and I'm adding to my already overlong reading list some particularly interesting-looking new books: Ian McEwan's Saturday , Elaine Showalter's Faculty Towers: The Academic Novel and its Discontents, Donald Downs' Restoring Free Speech and Liberty on Campus, and Kazuo Ishiguro's forthcoming Never Let Me Go. For the sheer horror of it, I'm interested, too, in Richard Bradley's recent takedown of Lawrence Summers, Harvard Rules. Stephen Metcalf's masterful review of what appears to be a deeply flawed--but also hugely telling--work makes Harvard Rules look like one of those rare books that one wants to read not because it promises to be good, but because it promises to be bad in exceptionally edifying ways.

I'd love to hear what readers have in their own bottomless bedside stacks.

Great to see you're back, Erin. The Oregon trip sounded wonderful...

Welcome back, Erin! My list of bottomless books is in disarray at the moment as I have had to hide them all over the house in anticipation of putting the house on the market. It just looks bad to have untidy stacks (3 of them) of books next to your bed when you are trying to sell the place, or so my broker assures me. So, can I take a raincheck?

I've been reading a book called Conspiracy of Fools,about the Enron disaster:long,complicated,
funny,and pathetic.
Did you like "M and C",Erin?I loved it!

Welcome back!

I'm reading "Middlemarch" right now for the first time - as well as Ed Moloney's book "The Secret History of the IRA".

Other books waiting to be read:

The Great Influenza - about the 1918 epidemic
The Disney War - can't wait
and Mark Bowden's Road Works.

I had a stack of books at my bedside, until I put them away because I was afraid the cats would knock them off in the night and scare hell out of me. They would, too, if it occurred to them.

Just finished Darwin's Radio and liked it very much. I started V. Woolf's To the Lighthouse but I had to give it to the kid to read for school. After hearing her trenchant comments I probably won't pick it up again. And somewhere in there I reread Handling Sin, which remains one of the funniest books I've ever read. I've got an as-yet-unread Louise Erdrich novel probably lined up next.

Was wondering what happened to you. Glad you're back.

As for your question, some good ones that I recently finished were World War I by H. Strachan, Boyos by R. Marinick, The Inimitable Jeeves by Wodehouse, and Confessions of a Justified Sinner by James Hogg, all of which I'd recommend.
By my bedside is To Rule the Waves (the history of the British Navy) I've gotten about 100 pages into it. So far it's fascinating. I'd recommend it for history or military buffs. There are a few Flashman's that I haven't gotten around to reading yet, so one of them will probably be next.

By the way, since you mentioned McEwan, let me pose a question to you., or to anyone else who comments here. I leafed through his newest book (I think it was) and after noticing that it was written in the present tense, firmly resolved not to go near it.
So what do you think about novels written in the present tense. I've found that I can't get through them. They start to grate after about a chapter or so, and get seriously annoyed at the author.

Allan, I can't stand them. I can't get through them, either, or stories written in second person: "You get up in the morning and put on your clothes."

On the other hand, I'm irritated when I read a science fiction book that involves explaining actual science, and that part too is in the past tense. I've seen that done in present tense and I think it works better.

"The Gutenberg Galaxy," by Marshall McLuhan..an analysis of the impact of printing on the collective mentality of society.

"The Master Mariner," by Nicholas Monsarratt...novel about a sailor who commits an act of cowardice in the battle against the Spanish Armada, and in consequence is condemned by a witch to live forever.

"Singing Rails," by Herbert Pease...memoir of a railroad telegrapher who worked in the Midwest circa 1900...a fascinating view of what life was like at the turn of the last century.

Laura. I know what you mean about the ones written in the second person. I can't even get started on them.

David, If you liked The Master Mariner, you might also like Monsarrat's The Cruel Sea and 3 Corvettes

I'm in the middle of (among other things, some dating back to the Clinton administration) Charles Portis's Masters of Atlantis, having already read True Grit and Dog of the South, thanks to references discovered on this blog.