I spent all day yesterday—far too many butt-hours (though, as I was sofa'd, they were soft hours)—making final corrections and emendations to "Unearthed." I've sent it to one more reader now that it's in what looks to be its final form; perhaps he'll see something I or others have missed. I do think it's the best work I've done. Looking forward to sending it out, having it accepted, and getting it into the hands of readers. (It's rare, this confidence, but I spent a long time on this, and I think the slow process benefited the work.)
Reading some poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay. Brutal. How'd I never read her till this year? Incredibly smart and (for her time) startlingly frank. Also just read the "King Lear" chapter of Frank Kermode's Shakespeare's Language. The chapter kind of tumbles from idea to idea, but it's rich with enthusiasm for the play, which I'm glad to report my students are enjoying. Every day spent with it is, for me, a day in awe.