The End of Chateaubriand

I complete reading the complete works of Chateaubriand. I found the last six volumes, those of his memoirs, to be the ones I most anticipated. I find, however, that I reacted much the way I had with John Diefenbaker's memoirs: he struck me in print as less intelligent than I expected. Part of it, of course, is that he probably wrote to earn money, not for his own edification, as with Saint-Simon. He is not incisive, I find, not does he have the gift of the telling detail -- but then, Mountbatten didn't either. And, of course, his memoirs are stuffed with correspondance and documents he retained from his career. That broke up the pace quite a bit. So in the end I find him to be correctly placed in the second rank.

And I found myself last night with only the latest issue of The Economist to read. What do you know? I'll have to get going on interlibrary loans today!