Although the study of it was a tedious drudgery, I will admit that this was the most effective of the German language books I studied in preparation for the language examination towards the philosophy doctorate at Loyola University Chicago.
The way I studied, the surround of these studies, was far more interesting than the study itself. At Loyola, a Jesuit institution, the teaching assistantships in philosophy were preferentially handed out to collegians, that is, to members of the order in formation. With the exception of one semester, when I was assigned to co-teach a symbolic logic course, mine were research assistantships. Here I was fortunate, first in that I got a full four years of assignments; second in that I had interesting work with kindly professors, and third in that I was awarded assistantships during the summers as well.
The equation of kindly professor plus summer reasarch amounted to the kind of work which allowed me to spend most of my summers in a cabin in the woods overlooking Lake Michigan, a cabin with no distractions except nature and, yes, a radio. Entertainment consisted of hiking, splashing about and study, some of it for my own sake, some of it for the meagre pay of a research assistant.
Anyway, I did most of my reading of Jannach on a folding lounge chair, next to the lake on the cooler days, in the lake on the hotter ones, punctuating the (for me) arduous work of memorization with walks, swims and the construction of what I termed 'a pleasure dome' (not a dome at all, but pleasant enough) out of driftwood.