It’s rare that I end up merely skimming a book or not finishing it. Although I usually got through or, at most, enjoyed the assigned reading in high school, Moby Dick and the Grapes of Wrath were two I just couldn’t. Maybe it was because of my age or perhaps my attentions were focused on other books. While in college, working on the production about the sharecropping Okies made the story more palatable so John Steinbeck’s novel is possibly worth a revisit, or maybe I’ll read the condensed version via script. A fisherman friend of mine reads Herman Melville’s acclaimed novel semi-annually. Now that I’m older, can undestand the novel’s themes better, and can relate more with Ahab perhaps I’d like Moby Dick. Or maybe the hook, instead of getting a trout, will snag on a rock-fish. I think it might be worth a shot anyway, can’t catch if you don’t cast.
As an aside, trout season opens on April Fool’s Day and the gag is that the raging rapids and floating chunks of ice make it difficult to cast effectively and provide more hiding spots for the tricksters. My fishing friend told me where to find salmon, but the area is currently blocked off due to possible flooding. By the time access is allowed they’ll probably be long gone.
Anyway, back to books. Although I liked them all right, in my humble opinion, the Alchemist and Stephen King’s writing seem over rated. I don’t quite understand the hype surrounding Paulo Coehlo’s simplistic story about following one’s dreams and think there are better inspirational reads. In fairness to King and his fans, I’ve only read part of the Dark Tower series, the Little Sisters of Eluria, but I really wasn’t that impressed. The novella started out slowly and I found King to be rather long winded. Whether I’ll read more of either author, I don’t know. I think I’m more inclined to read the whopper of a tale about a whale.
So as Booking Through Thursday asks this week:
“What’s the worst ‘best’ book you’ve ever read — the one everyone says is so great, but you can’t figure out why?”