Reading FAIL: One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest – Ken Kesey

I had heard rumours about One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest being an excellent novel. It was the type of novel that people wrote about, that people made films about, that people wanted to read and, when they did read it, they found it an enjoyable and enriching experience. Unfortunately, I was not one of those people. At first, I was not against reading it. In fact, I was quite looking forward to it. I read book reviews, I talked to people about it. I even watched the film.

This, more unfortunately, was my mistake.

Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov

So I just finished reading Lolita. I was slightly disturbed – not only by the story line, but by the fact that I pretty much devoured the novel.

Why, I asked myself, was I so interested in paedophilia (if it can be considered that) and why was I siding with the paedophile?

Tess of the d’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy

Your relationship with your favourite book is not unlike what you have with your most favourite person in the world – they drive you nuts, they have ridiculous quirks, they can quite possibly annoy the bloody crap out of you, but you still love the heck out of them, you find them hilarious and you want to spend all your time with them.

That’s me and Tess. So many times have I cursed her idiodicy for listening to her equally idiotic mother, her foolishness for getting back on that bloody cab with that unfortunately (for Tess) named Alec d’Urberville, for that stupid note under the rug. Oh the pain! The PAIN!

The Rachel Papers – Martin Amis

So I don’t really have anything against this book, but I kinda didn’t like it. Like I kinda didn’t like Charles Highway – not in a ‘I freaking hate his guts’ kinda dislike, but more of a ‘what’s that bad smell’ kinda dislike.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone – J.K. Rowling

So I caved. I am like an angel, an angel of pretentious academic ideals who has fallen to coexist with the plebs. Actually, I rephrase: I am one who has gleefully skipped down to coexist with the plebs. Some might even say that I am a pleb disguised as a pretentious academic angel, but this is irrelevant; I digress (from the point that I have not yet stated) – I freaking loved the whole freaking Harry Potter series and I continue to freaking love it religiously.

There. I’ve said it. 

The first time I met our weenie little wizard warrior, I was in high school and he, technically, was already in his fourth year at Hogwarts. For a long time, I had fought the hype. I did not want to read it. My principles – while they aren’t strong – I like to think are kept. For at least a little while.

The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro

As a general rule and probably on principal, books that are read at school aren’t a hit with the kids (with the divine exception of To Kill a Mockingbird), so when I was handed the book list for ENG101 several years ago, I did not expect to like any of the foes that I was to be pitted against for a 12 full weeks. 

How wrong was I.

Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day did not only interest me enough to read the 250 or so pages several times, but also showed me that a novel about the staff of an english country manor could actually be interesting. I know. This might also be due to the fact that Ishiguro is a talented talented man, but that’s just my opinion.