Take a photo of a barcode or cover
DID NOT FINISH
I'm done. I'm tired. I can't do it any more. Nothing about this is appealing; nothing about this suggests any reason for this novel to have become the landmark that it is. I want with everything in my English-major, Irish-lit-loving heart to finish this, to be capable of finishing it, to at least say that I understand why it's a classic, but I would be lying out of my teeth. I can't. I'm not. I don't. And I'm out. Maybe next year I'll finish it - take it a chapter a week - but no. Not this year. I'm bailing. I read 286 pages of 769. I'll pick up where I left off in January. It won't be a problem because I won't misunderstand it any more than I'm not getting it now.