July 30. I did it. I finally finished Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow. We were together 2 months and 2 weeks. Now there's an Alexander Hamilton-shaped hole in my life.
That last day, I read about 40%. There comes a point when you can't stop reading, you don't want to stop and you can't dissemble. Even my mother was getting the stony eff-off-I-am-reading look. When that didn't work, I used subtler, more effective methods: I started reading aloud from Alexander Hamilton, and she wandered off to play Candy Crush then take a nap.
I continued to read and read. Tears from eyestrain streamed from my right eye. Tired of wiping it, I covered it instead and continued with my left.
But never mind my eye. Alexander Hamilton! What a story Ron Chernow brings to life! Best of men and best of biographers. By the end, I was shedding more than eyestrain tears. I was a wreck.
After a halfway decent interval, I took a deep breath and took up the next book I'd slated for myself, Fallen Founder, a biography of Aaron Burr. After twenty minutes or so, I was thinking oh hell no. The premise of Fallen Founder is that Aaron Burr, like Dr. Pepper, is terribly misunderstood. Deep down, he was really a swell guy. I didn't stick around to find out. I don't give a damn if he was a Mary Wollestonecraft fan, or if he was president of her fan club. He shot Alexander Hamilton! My wrathful feelings towards Burr may cool off at some point. I don't know.
After a couple of days, I decided to do a reread of Gore Vidal's novel about Burr. After all, Vidal's portrayal is that of a villain (although an entertaining one, I hate to admit) in his hoary old age who is just as much of a scoundrel as ever. Besides, I've been missing Gore Vidal lately. I wish he were alive to make savage and witty remarks about the current political scene. Even better, Ron Chernow likes Burr.
Time to listen to the musical again.