transformation or regeneration? in Changes and the Same

I now have my complete outfit/costume for the Doctor Who 50th anniversary cinema screening this coming Saturday...

I'll be going like so:

Since I last wrote here the wig and the scarf arrived in the post. I bought them both on Amazon. The scarf is brilliant - it's 13 feet of brilliance. I'll be doing all I can to avoid tripping over it. The coat is my own coat that I already had. I bought the shirt and the trousers on Saturday in Hull. Jesica had spotted some Tom Baker type trousers in Matalan. The only problem is that they're a bit tight around the waist - even though they're my usual waist size that all my other trousers are. Oh well... I can get into them and that's what counts. Jesica is right that I ought to have tried them on in the shop but I didn't. No crisps for me this week! Nice salads all the way...

Doris Lessing's death at the weekend got me thinking a bit. The Grass Is Singing was one of the novels that I studied at school over 20 years ago for my English Literature A-Level. I've always maintained, since then, that it was the worst book that I'd read. I struggled like crazy with that book - and even more with the essay piece that I had to write related to it. I reckon I've been a bit unfair though. Maybe it wasn't the worst book that I've ever read but merely the book that I've enjoyed reading the least? There is a difference.

Studying a text in depth - searching for subtexts and hidden meanings and re-reading passages over and over again - not a process that lends itself to enjoying good classic literature. I suffered with all my English A-Level books to some extent that way - it's probably also why I've got a bit of a downer on Jane Austen too. And James Joyce... And... oh, you get the idea...

So what I'm saying is RIP Doris Lessing - it wasn't you - it was me. Maybe one day I'll give one of your other novels a fair try?