Even when reading slowly, sometimes you race through books. And sometimes you get cookies.
I have finished Thackeray's "Vanity Fair," my first "slow read" of the year. I started it on New Year's Eve, finished it on Super Bowl Sunday, reading for hours on some days, for just a few minutes on others, letting it take as long as it took — until the end.
For the last 50 pages or so, however, I sped up. I am not proud of this. But I needed to know what happened to all those wonderful, intensely human characters.
What will happen, I wondered, to conniving Becky Sharp, whose luck appears to be running out at last? And will foolish, romantic Amelia mourn her good-for-nothing husband forever? Seriously, she is becoming a bit of a pill. And what about faithful Dobbin? Will he ever move on?
I raced through the ending, my husband admonishing me. "That is not in the spirit of the slow read," he said.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I said, and flipped another page.
Thackeray did not disappoint, skewering one and all at the end. And then it was done, and I was sorry I had rushed. For days afterward, the characters stayed with me. I missed them! I wished I'd taken those last 50 pages more slowly.
It has also been nice to find that a lot of you embrace the slow read — and to see what a diverse collection of books you are reading.
"'Moby-Dick," writes Jennie Hakes of Aitkin, Minnesota. "A long, slow, fabulous read. Pick it up one day, go back to it in a couple of days, nothing lost. One of my top 10 books."
Others are reading "Black Leopard, Red Wolf," by Marlon James. "The Count of Monte Cristo." "The Odyssey." "Raintree County."
Dale Howard of St. Paul wrote: "I have been a slow reader my entire life and often berated myself for it, though I sometimes realized the enjoyment you describe (and it made me a very good proofreader)."
Reader Ruth Berman of Minneapolis noted that when she read "Vanity Fair" some years back, she was stopped by Thackeray's mention of a boy being spoiled with "too much parliament." What could that mean?
Rather than skimming on by, she did a little research. Turns out it's a kind of molasses cookie. "It's called that because the recipe became popular when a woman whose bakery was opposite the Scottish Parliament was selling it," she writes.
Berman said her sister, Jean Sogin, tracked down a recipe "and reported that it was a great cookie, not too sweet, and very tasty."
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PARLIAMENT
2 tablespoons treacle or molasses
4 tablespoons melted butter
1 egg, beaten
2 cups flour
3/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons ginger
Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and line baking sheets with parchment.
Mix the molasses and the butter and let cool. Mix in the egg. Sift together the flour, sugar and ginger. Combine the wet and dry ingredients.
Roll into 1-inch balls and flatten with a fork (as you would for peanut butter cookies). Bake about 15 minutes. Remove from oven and cool on a baking rack.
(Note: When I made these, I tweaked them a bit — added 1 teaspoon baking soda and subbed brown sugar for white. They were good, but were they still Parliaments?)
I took some time off after "Vanity Fair" for some shorter books, but now I am back at it. I've just begun "Dombey & Son." "Middlemarch" awaits.
It's going to be a good reading year.
