Reading a novel in your second language, badly

I am reading a novel in Spanish that is slightly beyond me. I look up maybe one word a page, which is exactly the wrong amount to be efficient and the exactly the right amount to be uncomfortable.

After 80 pages the world has started to settle. Sentences I would have looked up in March I now glide past in October. The grammar is not the point. The momentum is.

I do not know what the book is about. I will when I am done. That is the only deadline.