It’s no secret that I love me some books. I’ve THRILLED you all with my journey back into reading.
Except it seems I’ve fallen back off the wagon. Or maybe I’m back on the not-reading-enough wagon?
Wagon metaphors are hard.
I read five books during March and April. Which is five more than I read in 2009, so I was off to a pretty good start. When I went to bed at night, I’d leave the iPod Touch behind. (I do most of my Words With Friends-ing while I’m falling asleep. Which takes a while, because my half-asleep brain INSISTS that SNARFLAP is a word. Scuttle said so!) I went through the books sort of painfully slowly, but it felt good to be getting in that escape again. (I don’t drive, and that means I don’t really get out a lot. Not by myself, anyway. So, you know. Book escapism. Totally healthy, right? RIGHT?)
All five books were dystopian-themed, and after that, I sort of wanted to curl up into a ball and hide from the world.
Which I suppose is … exactly what I was doing with the books. In the first place. Hmm.
If you check me out on Goodreads (please do! Be the boss of me and tell me what I should be reading!), you’ll see that I’m APPARENTLY “currently reading” my first P.G. Wodehouse. It came highly recommended by two very brilliant, well-read sisters. But it seems like the bite from the reading bug healed right up.
Sadly, I think the problem is that it is TOO SMART for me right now. (Even though I’m really enjoying it.) I am STILL PROCESSING Brave New World. I need some serious fluff. Like some YA. Or maybe those Sookie Stackhouse books you internet people are always raving about.
As far as my favorite most favorite books … well, that sounds like a list-making opportunity, which is pretty much the best way to blog. More lists, I say. Lists all the time.
So. The list. (Omitting books written not-for-grown-ups, because children’s books would probably take right over. And then you might not think I’m a brilliant genius anymore. CAN’T HAVE THAT.)
- Immortality, Milan Kundera. We were assigned this in high school, and it pretty much changed my life. It’s my stranded-on-a-desert-island book. I love just about anything by Kundera, but this one takes the taco.
- Flaubert’s Parrot, Julian Barnes. I adore Gustave Flaubert. His entire outlook on life — which I think is summed up best by Spock when he says, “You may find that having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting” — has always resonated with me. This book provides a fictionalized chronology of his life, and it’s fantastic.
- Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury. I’ve gone on and on about this one before, but the last 20 pages or so of this book are absolutely beautiful. I definitely want to read more Bradbury.
- The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Mark Haddon. Christopher, an autistic 15-year-old, wakes one morning to find his neighbor’s dog murdered. He doesn’t believe the obvious lie fed to him by his father about what happened, and the book covers the time he spends after running away from home to find out the truth. Being inside Christopher’s head is incredible. If you’re at all attracted to mathematics, you will ADORE this book.
- The Talented Mr. Ripley, Patricia Highsmith. Very different from the movie. (Though I also love the movie. Which is maybe uncommon? Usually people look at me like I have spinach in my nose when I say that. Or maybe I just have spinach in my nose. Again.) I think Tom Ripley is one of the most fascinating characters I’ve read. A complete sociopath, to be sure, but he is a strikingly RELATABLE sociopath. Highsmith wrote several books about Ripley, but I’ve not yet read them all. Delaying the pleasure. (I like to think Flaubert would approve.)
Now all I’ve managed to accomplish is that I want to go re-read all those books. But! New ones await!
So I guess I’ll put down the iPod for a while. Boo. (But you should still play me in Words With Friends! I’m dashoff, and I make up words! IT WILL BE SO GREAT.)
I’d love to hear what you guys are reading!