1. Anything in large type
2. The Wikipedia entry on morphine; especially as it relates the facts and myths about Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s opium consumption and the creation of Kubla Khan; especially because you can enlarge the font size as much as you want on Wiki.
3. Amok by Stefan Zweig, and I cannot explain why.
4. The Life of the Bee, by Maurice Maeterlinck, but only if you have read it before multiple times. The key is knowing it almost my heart already.
5. Recipes with many pictures, but do not try to actually cook any of the recipes.
6. Art books, especially books about surrealistic or abstract or extra-abstract art, because you will enjoy them more than at any other time. No photo-realism or Jeff Koons.
7. Proust. Seriously. Pick it up anywhere and anywhere. It makes no difference and it will engage you entirely.
8. In tearing haste, Letters Between Deborah Devonshire and Patrick Leigh Fermor, edited by Charlotte Mosley. Darling Debo and Darling Pad. It is full of descriptions of “curly scimitars glittering[ing] from the saddles” and “ troglodyte villages” and multi-colored flocks of sheep, and beaucoup de gossip. Many thanks dear Nonnie, for this treasure.
9. Audio books: do these count as reading? (Feelings can run to temperature extremes when debating this subject, but not when you are on morphine.)
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