...Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset. At 1100+ pages, it was a substantial undertaking to read it (I can't even imagine the project of writing it). And for me the feat was a long time in the making: one of my neighborhood friends growing up was named after the title character, and I remember trying to read it when I was younger, but it was beyond me. Chris decided to read it this summer and urged me to do the same. I'm not sure I loved the novel, but I'm glad I read it, I loved talking about it with Chris over the past few weeks, and I'm relieved to have returned to a scene of prior (or at least temporary) defeat and turned it into victory.