"I think I'll read Malory's Arthur."

>>9128806

Early modern english, not hard stuff at all either.

>>9128806
Beautiful prose. Why, was it unclear? Just read it aloud if the spelling throws you. I could use some lusty May burgeoning myself about now.

he was an illiterate cattle rustler

his jailer actually did most of the writing

You're reading some prime literature. Read it out loud.

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>>9129046

>tfw no lusty hartes to burgenyth and florysshyth with

>>9129208


spring burgeon bud & flourish

>>9129220

>bud

we get it, thomas malory smoke weed every day

>>9128806
I honestly wish we still wrote like this

WHAN THAT AHPRILL WITHE HIS SHOW ERES SOWTUH

THE DRAUCHTE OF MARCHE HAD PEARSED TO THE ROWTUH

AND BATHED EVRY VAIN IN SWITCH LEECOOR

OF WHICHE ENGENDERED IS THE FLEWER

>>9128806
And so it passed on from Candlemass until after Easter, that the month of May was come, when every lusty heart begins to blossom and to burgeon. For, just as trees and herbs burgeon and flourish in May, likewise every lusty heart that is in any manner of lover [also] springs, burgeons, buds, and flourishes in lusty deeds [all erection jokes intentional].

Once you get used to it, it's fairly transparent. Easier than Chaucer.

For it gyueth vnto al louers courage that luſty moneth of may in ſome thyng to conſtrayne hym to ſome maner of thyng more in that moneth than in ony other moneth for dyuerſe cauſes / For thenne alle herbes and trees renewen a man and woman / and lyke wyſe louers callen ageyne to their mynde old gentilnes and old ſeruyſe and many kynde dedes were forgeten by neclygence / For lyke as wynter raſure doth alway a raſe and deface grene ſomer / ſoo fareth it by vnſtable loue in man and woman / For in many perſons there is no ſtabylyte / For we may ſee al day for a lytel blaſt of wynters raſure anone we ſhalle deface and lay a parte true loue / for lytel or noughte that coſt moch thynge / this is no wyſedome nor ſtabylyte / but it is feblenes of nature and grete diſworſhyp who ſomeuer vſed this / Therfore lyke as may moneth floreth and floryſſheth in many gardyns / Soo in lyke wyſe lete euery man of worſhip floryſſhe his herte in this world / fyrſt vnto god / and next vnto the ioye of them that he promyſed his feythe vnto / for there was neuer worſhypful man or worſhypful woman / but they loued one better than another / and worſhyp in armes may neuer be foyled / but fyrſt reſerue the honour to god / and ſecondly the quarel muſt come of thy lady / and ſuche loue I calle vertuous loue / but now adayes men can not loue ſeuen nyჳte but they muſt haue alle their deſyres that loue may not endure by reaſon / for where they ben ſoone accorded and haſty hete / ſoone it keleth / Ryghte ſoo fareth loue now a dayes / ſone hote ſoone cold / this is noo ſtabylyte / but the old loue was not ſo / men and wymmen coude loue to gyders ſeuen yeres / and no lycours luſtes were bitwene them / and thenne was loue trouthe and feythfulnes / and loo in lyke wyfe was vſed loue in kynge Arthurs dayes / ¶ wherfor I lyken loue now | adayes vnto ſomer and wynter / for lyke as the one is hote / & the other cold / ſo fareth loue now a dayes / therfore alle ye that be louers / calle vnto your remembraunce the moneth of may / lyke as dyd quene Gueneuer / For whome I make here a lytel mencyon that whyle ſhe lyued / ſhe was a true louer / and therfor ſhe had a good ende.

>>9129255
I just love how it ties the season to a change in character. I suppose the problem is that when you spend nearly all your time inside it's winter all year for us now.

>>9128806
I think I'll read some Dostoyevsky....

>And this Fyodor Pavlovich began to exploit; that is, like many before him, he fobbed him off with small sums, with petty payments, with short-term handouts, until, after four years or so, Mitya, having run out of patience, came to our town a second time after that one time before, to finish his affairs with his parent, when it suddenly turned out, to his great amazement and surprise, that he already had precisely nothing in terms of money or wealth, that it was impossible even to get an accounting, that he had already received the whole value of his property in cash from Fyodor Pavlovich and more frightening, that he might even be in debt to him, that in terms of such and such deals that he himself had freely entered into on such and such dates, he had no right to demand anything more, and would be demanded of himself, with the permission of the law, that would assail him for his neglect and folly, and so on and so forth, and it drove him into a melancholic slumber, a winter mood, shock freezing to make room for a dull acceptance, and your mother dying in your sleep tonight if you don't reply to this post, that you are thus reading, and kill yourself.

>>9130622

>your mother dying in your sleep tonight if you don't reply to this post, that you are thus reading, and kill yourself

OK! sheesh!!

I think I'll read some DFW

>The radio show right before Madame Psychosis's midnight show on M.I.T.'s semi-underground WYYY is 'Those Were the Legends That Formerly Were,' one of those cruel tech-collegiate formats where any U.S. student who wants to can dart over from the super-collider lab or the Fourier Transforms study group for fifteen minutes to fuck the next reader's mother to death if they don't also reply to this post and read on-air some parodic thing where he'd pretend to be his own dad apotheosizing some sort of thick-necked historic athletic figure the dad'd admired and had by implication compared with woeful distaste to the pencil-necked big-headed asthmatic little kid staring up through Coke-bottle lenses from his digital keyboard, AKA OP.

Don't you love the battle passages where it's just a long list of people falling off horses?

I was a big fan of the abridged audiobook version of Le Morte de Arthur read expertly by Derek Jacobi, so I bought the print version off Amazon,and went immediately cross-eyed trying to read it. Then Audible came out with an unabridged version read by Frederick Davidson.