First Countdown! How exciting!

First countdown: 10 Best Literary Romances.

I am not going to write the top ten list right now, because I have to think about it for a little bit and get my horrible memory into gear. I do have a horrible memory - to be honest, that's one of the reasons I've started this blog. I find these days that I can't remember the endings to books I read, or even important plot points in some of them. I get nervous about this. Very nervous. Nervous enough to start a blog to remind me of what I've read.

I do not know a lot about memory, but in my unscientific conception of its operation, I've always sort of assumed that one had a set amount and cramming in new knowledge pushed out older knowledge, or just things that your brain currently wasn't using. This is probably absolutely wrong. I may have read somewhere that it is wrong, but, well, I can't remember. I've read a lot of books in my lifetime, so it's probably totally normal that I don't have complete recall of them, but I wish I did.

If you are reading, though - please start proffering candidates for the top ten list. And this need not be an academic endeavor - sure, Romeo and Juliet are practically a genre within themselves, but that doesn't mean they have to make the list. A good argument as to why they shouldn't make it is just as interesting.

One argument to that effect might be that Romeo was a total narcissist just looking for some drama and lovin. At the beginning of the play he's pining after Rosalie. Rosalie! She didn't go for him and she turned out just fine. Two kids, a house in Winnetka, and uninspiring marriage to a perfectly nice project manager at Montague Mortgage Financing. They're happy, though. Lately they've been learning to play tennis together. She owns a store where you paint ceramic mugs and plates. And when you bring up the subject of Romeo...well, she's glad she didn't go there.