It's the way the titles sound. They always sound so austere and erudite and beautiful -- the titles always have that academic-sounding rhythm. It makes me want to read things that are far from my little specialized corner of literature.

Elyot, Castiglione, and the problem of style / by Teresa Kennedy.

The elegiac mode in Milton and Rilke : reflections on death / by Dan Latimer.

The nation as invisible protagonist in Dickens and Dostoevsky : uncovering hidden social forces within the text / by Olga A. Stuchebrukhov.

I wanted to learn Italian because I read some crappy translation of The Inferno and saw the Italian printed beside it. And because I'd just returned from a vacation in Tuscany.

Then I read Madame Bovary and wanted to learn French so that I could read that (and Georges Bernanos) in the original language and watch my Rohmer movies.

But I'm an American Lit. scholar. I should stick with my Spanish.

I love Milton. I could do Milton and Melville together.