They don't make 'em like they used to

I am currently 280 some odd pages into East of Eden. What a fabulous book.

Steinbeck spins the plot lazily and carefully, developing the characters individually and in the context of each other. It's refreshing to read a book that I feel like if I put it down now, I would still walk away with something... depth and emotion of the characters, understanding of a time... of course, I can't put it down. It is a book written from another time, just on the brink of the modern era, where time didn't matter so much. Nobody watches the clock in East of Eden, and life just flows lazily past.


And, I'm totally hopped up on cold meds, which makes me kinda loopy.