It is done. Book 27 of 52, Miguel de Cervantes‘ Don Quixote, is finished. (Also, the spark notes, book 28 of 52.) It wasn’t as infuriating an experience as Zinn’s People’s History, and it wasn’t as confounding or frustrating as DFW’s Infinite Jest, but the meta-ness really got to me. Parts of it were boring and digressive, but other parts were hilarious and poignant. Overall, I’m a little drained. Not sure what else to say other than that it was a hell of a read.