I thought tonight I would be telling you of some of my bookish finds but my outing to Barnes & Noble tonight wasn’t successful. I have a little gift card burning a hole in my pocket and I wanted to use it but didn’t find the books I was looking for so I have no books and no post — sort of…

Did you catch NPR’s article on the best foreign fiction of 2008? Their top five picks are the following:

• Senselessness by Horacio Castellanos.
• Kieron Smith, boy by James Kelman
• 2666 by Roberto Bolaño. I did see this one tonight at B&N and it is such a nice looking edition.
• Metropole by Ferenc Karinthy.
• The Lost Daughter by Elena Ferrante.

I’d only heard of the 2666 book but of course now I’m curious about all of these others. If you want to read excerpts from the books check out the NPR link.

I haven’t checked my yearly stats but I get the feeling most of my reading is still pretty much equally divided between American and British authors but I’ll let you know later on when I do my end of the year stats. I can’t believe it’s almost time for those.

So that’s about it but before I forget, it’s time for another exciting edition of Estella’s Revenge. Go check it out and add more books to your TBR lists, read up on the Dangerous Reading Challenge and enter to win a book!

The book blogging community has lost a wonderful friend, Dewey. I don’t really know what to say and already so many of you have expressed such beautiful sentiments about our friend and our community. So, instead I’ll just turn to poetry, and meanwhile remember all the great community events Dewey hosted and made so much fun for all of us. Thank you Dewey.

Dream Land
By Christina Rosetti

Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.

She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.

Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.

Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart’s core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.