On long books...

I am still reading "A Suitable Boy".
This is my third reading and the following passage struck me

"But I (too) hate long books: the better, the worse. If they are bad, they merely make me pant with the effort of holding them up for a few minutes. But if they are good, I turn into a social moron for days, refusing to go out of my room, scowling and growling at interruptions, ignoring weddings and funerals and making enemies out of friends. I still bear the scars of the Middlemarch"

And I still bear the scars of "A Suitable Boy". Once upon a time, there was this wedding of a dear friend. I just packed this book along (for lack of anything better to take along). The rest is history that is still recalled by the friend and his charming wife whenever they want to gripe against me.

I did not attend any of the ceremonies, did not ogle at the friend's "saalis", did not dance in the baraat and did not attend the pheras. I even requested food to be brought in my room.