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On The Brothers Karamozov now, about halfway through. This novel is thoroughly kicking my ass. I expected to breeze through it as I did Crime & Punishment, but I simply can't bring myself to do that. It's taking me several hours just to get through 20, 30, or 40 (on a good day) pages due to me constantly setting the book down and evaluating my life (and trying to understand the Russian soul, which is bat shit insane). I'm getting headaches here .
I completely underestimated Dostoevsky because he had tendencies to babble a bit in his writing but this is pretty fucking awesome. I figure in a few weeks I'll be able to move on to Tolstoy, whose work will probably take even longer to read .
Damn you, Russia.
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