I had a delightful ice day (which is what you get in the south when places north of the Mason Dixon line get a snow day) this week and have been remarkably unproductive in anything that is not drinking hot chocolate, building tiny ice snowmen, or making snow cream out of crunchy ice. Not sorry.



So say you like scifi and have a bit of a thing for dystopias. But say you also love medieval history with large doses of Latin thrown in for good measure. Then have I got the book for you (and me). A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr. manages to provide all of the above, all wrapped up in a dismally bleak, frequently heart-wrenching, but somehow hopeful and endearing package.  The novel began its life as three shorter stories, inspired in part by Miller’s experiences as part of a WWII bomber crew that helped to destroy the monastery at Monte Cassino in Italy (which happens to be where my grandfather fought during his WWII service). I get the feeling (one of my favorites) that there is so much more to be discovered in this book; subtle symbolism and intricate references abound, and a re-read will one day be required.

Currently reading The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara. Review to follow!