
I had three or four books that I had bought instead of borrowing from the library, chiefly because I meant to read them in the summer - outside, preferably. It didn't happen. This isn't a bad thing - I generally felt like enough exciting and amusing stuff was going on that I could wait until there was a lull in the activity, and if that didn't happen until the kids went back to school, well and good. Except every now and then, I look around at the piles of books in my bedroom and, instead of feeling the pleasure of anticipation, I just feel overwhelmed and anxious. At one point, I actually found myself wishing that I could just pick up each book, stick a finger on it and immediately download the contents into my brain, then move onto the next. Then I was horrified - how does that have anything to do with the joy of the reading experience? The point isn't supposed to be to take a book and just be done with it - it's a process of discovery, and time, and unfolding.
So I made myself sit down for a few days with one book, and stay with that one book until it was done. And it felt like a type of therapy, and it worked.
My other dilemma is that the third book in Lev Grossman's Magicians trilogy is out. This is the book that I loved and it seemed that everyone else hated, until I finally found a few people who felt the same as me. Oh hey, look, I asked the author a question on Goodreads and got what I thought was a really good answer.
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Lev Grossman answered your question
I adored The Magicians, but the first five or six people I lent/recommended it to after reading it hated it - they found the main character unlikable, which has never been a deal-breaker for me, but apparently was for them. Was it actually your intention to create an unsympathetic protagonist and see how that worked, or do you think (like I kind of do) that my friends are just tripping?
Believe me I get that a lot. There's no better way to create a deep schism down the middle of any book group than to read The Magicians. But I can honestly say that I never thought about Quentin's likability or un-likability while I was writing it. I wanted him to feel psychologically real, that was all.
The thing about Quentin is that he's depressed, and like a lot of people who struggle with depression (me included) he sometimes has trouble focusing on other people's feelings -- he's using up all his resources just trying to keep himself going, and it makes him oblivious to other people's needs. Which is annoying. So I don't really think your friends are tripping. Probably they're just looking for something from The Magicians that it wasn't designed to give. ![]()
So to sum up, I had such a great summer that I didn't have time to read a lot of demanding classic literature, and now I have my hands on a book that I really want to read. Poor me!
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5 comments:
Making notes!
I've been reading a series of books by a very acclaimed author, and I'm finding it tough going. The writing is excellent but the subject matter is so depressing. I mean, it's good to read realism, and it's autobiographical so it's GOOD to learn more about the world, but MAN OH MAN. I need a happy book for a while.
One of the things I love about the kids being back in school is having a dedicated half hour (sometimes more) to read each weekday. It gives me something to look forward to every morning.
Also, there's book club. It doesn't stop over the summer but it slows down. We're doing Nadine Gordimer's The Conservationist this month and starting Don Quixote next month.
I have the first Magicians book.... it has been sitting on my TBR for a couple of years now. Whoops. Now I'm more intrigued than I had been and may actually bump it up the list...
I loved both the first and second books although man did book 2 take a turn for the super dark there for awhile. Just got the third from the library. I also seem to be alone in my love of these books. Husband, who usually digs most of the same books I do, really didn't like it. Depressing. I can hardly wait to dig into the third book!
I had a crazy successful summer of reading. What might have been a disaster, bringing one book to the cottage that I was more than halfway done, was solved by a quick trip to Picton and the charity shop.
I brought back a stack of books that were 25 cents each. I am still working my way through them. One thing, I did not like The Alchemist and had to skim it to get through it.
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