Far too many books are yet to find their way to my bedside table so this year I set about reading classic novels and landmark texts that have hovered at the edge of my reading life without actually becoming part of what I know. Last night I closed Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. “I even think of Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty.” It was an acquired taste, and one I came to appreciate, but I’m glad it’s finished. Now to Patrick White’s Tree of Man because it was waved under my nose on the ABC’s Tuesday Book Club and has been sitting on my bookshelf for forty years unopened (it’s a big bookshelf). “A cart drove between the two big stringybarks and stopped.” Already, I know that this one too will be savoured rather than gulped. But I’m in love with the characters already.