Without internet, I read a lot. Here's recent musings on books I've finished in the past couple of weeks.
Jas. McBride, Deacon King Kong. Amusing, although not like the author has lightning bolts coming out of his head or anything. A sweet little book.
George Elliot, Middlemarch. Am I getting old or was this a lot longer than necessary? I prefer Trollope. Someone said, "you gotta read this, it's by a woman." So I did. I still don't get what all the fuss is about. At least now I can avoid reading anything else by her. Jane Austen is much better and more succinct among the writers in this genre.
VS Naipaul, A House for Mr. Biswas. This is a well written book, about a guy who is basically self centered and unlikeable. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. Mostly a flashback biography after he dies. In that, I'm reminded of Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis' Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas, except that the latter is in the first person while Mr. B is told from a 3rd person perspective. I'm nearly done with it and like it better than the Elliot.