It's 2016 and I'm rereading all the Barthes books I have (10 of them) with the excuse that I have a short encyclopedia-type piece on him due in a week. I got so excited about Barthes the other day (reading de Man's "Roland Barthes and the Limits of Structuralism") that my friend promised to make me a poster of him.

So far this year I have driven more miles than I would prefer, run five miles (in one go), finished a couple Updike novels, eaten a country-fried-steak with gravy, contemplated death, written a grant proposal to go to the Harry Ransom Center, found the first small swathes of gray hairs in my temples, wrapped up the editing for a new issue of Narrative, and now I am getting ready to begin a new semester as the assistant/apprentice for an upper-level undergrad course that is ALL. WALLACE. You heard me right.

In other news it was a Benjaminian Christmas for me: my partner got me all 4 of the Selected Writings in hardback (!!!!!!) as well as Walter Benjamin's Archive from Verso and a gorgeous copy of The Origin of German Tragic Drama (also from Verso). Now I can return all the library copies for another young soul to discover.

I'll leave you with the woodcut for January, from one of my favorite books ever, Spenser's Shepheardes Calender.