The spine of mine — the Cátedra* edition that I've had since I first read the novel in my college survey course and which is full of marginalia in different colors of ink, a new one for each re-reading — is broken in the middle of Part I, chapter 23, which is in the middle of the Sierra Morena episode.
Where is your copy of Don Quijote broken? And what does it say about you?
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I'm hoping to have time to write two posts of greater substance, one on introducing undergraduates to the history of the language, and the other about my current binge on books by and about Garcia Lorca, but those are going to have to wait until I have finished:
Edited on 10/9/11 to add: So much for that.
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A very nice (if not earth-shattering) essay on Don Quixote and the nature of fiction and reality, sort of in the vein of "Reading Quijote in a Time of War," appeared in the NYTimes online opinion section this week. I wish it had appeared a week earlier so I could have used it in my class when I introduced the idea to my students by talking about levels of fiction and whom we could consider to be readers of the Amadís de Gaula, the famous book of chivalry that ostensibly drove DQ mad:
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*I linked to the publisher's web site because it was the best illustration of what the book is, not because I have some shady (or any kind of) financial arrangement with them. Click away or not; it will have no bearing on me one way or another.
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