One 3.8-mile city ride. It rained again today, but not during my commuting times; nevertheless, RDC picked me up and we went to the gym.
Precor Elliptical EFX 546: 45' at 20/20 incline and 8/20 resistance, 6000 strides. I used two 3-pound handweights for about a third of the period.
A special topics class on evil in literature was one of the best classes I had at UConn, professor and books and discussion and everything. The Book of Job, Macbeth, The Narrative of Frederick Douglass (evil in history rather than in literature), Things Fall Apart, Ursula LeGuin's "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas," Cynthia Ozick's "The Shawl," Tillie Olsen's I Stand Here Ironing.
I'd have to look at the syllabus to remember what else there was, but right now I'm wondering why we didn't read The Sound and the Fury. I can't think of any literary character less chockful of pure cussedness than Jason Compson.
Non-humans can't compare, so Woundwort and Saruman are out. Mr. Gradgrind is too flat. Teacher isn't flat but he is limited. Anyone insane, even criminally, like Whatsisname from Handful of Dust is out. Raskolnikov is sympathetic, maybe a tad touched, capable of love. Danvers and Heathcliff are sympathetic because they love someone. Even the Wicked Witch of the West is just drawn that way. Aha--after thinking of book after book I see the light: Jason Compson is the only one who tells his story in the first person, so you can see how deep, how causeless, how impenetrable and pervasive, his evil is.
I love Benjy. I love Dilsey. I love this book.