dizzardry
Quis tam avidus librorum helluo, who can read them? As already, we shall have a vast chaos and confusion of books, we are oppressed with them, our eyes ache with reading, our fingers with turning.
Trying to do too much background reading, with only a feeble sense of what it is I am trying to understand. It is like going for a walk on a foggy morning, when piles of leaves and fallen branches, to say nothing of parked cars and the remnants of the neighbors’ verge gardens, loom from the darkness with the offer of danger and confusion (contusion?). An owl plunges past, large and unnerving – a warning, perhaps, from Minerva, about the dangers of distraction.