This week’s musing asks:
What is the longest book you have ever read? How long did it take you to read it?
War and Peace felt the longest because I wasn’t interested in the digression in agriculture and how land was divided. Gone with the Wind was a fast read (7th grade level reading) because I kept wanting to know what will happen to Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler. While the novel centers on Scarlet, I have come to like Butler a lot—so much so that I don’t want him to fall in love with Scarlett, who only chases after someone who doesn’t exist, except in her imagination. She only comes to term with her true feelings, which she lacks throughout the book, and acknowledges emotions as strength, only a tad too late. Her long journey to become a person who is capable of love seems ironically fruitless. The novel is what critics might call a timeless American classic. It muses on that reflection sometimes can be the only chance of happiness in the memory of what was promised to us.
Last year I finally conquered The Fountainhead, the book I meant to read for extra credit in 11th grade. Rand believes that there is only black and white in moral issues; there is no gray. Therefore, giving in a little is not compromise but rather forfeiting one’s values and surrendering to evil. She argues that society, tainted by collectivism, has a herd mentality that corrupts individual mind. Whether you buy her outlandish ideals, the book itself is gripping and riveting.
It will change when I muster up energy to read A Suitable Boy–over 1400 pages.
Booking Through Thursday asks:
Have you ever bought a book, started reading it and then realised you have already read it? If so, how far did you get? (Can you tell this happened to me for the first time ever this week!?!)
(Laughing out loud) I as reading this book titled The Other Hand by Chris Cleave, whose book Little Bee I enjoyed tremendously. If you haven’t read it, it is a novel that reminds us of humanity, humanity at its best and most invincible, in the face of horror and sorrow. The manner with which their disparate lives intersect is serendipitous, and how this story unfolds is magic. The book is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, nudging the terrains of delicate emotions. So I picked up this other book by him called The Other Hand, and about two chapters into it I realize it’s Little Bee, except it’s published under a different title in the UK.