Last night I finished the Bill Bryson book I'd been reading. Being a filthy backpacker I can only carry around one book at a time – I need the rest of my backpack space for tubes of Vegemite, and boots (I can't give them up). So, desperate for something to read, I started browsing through my flatmate's bookcase. I didn't have great expectations; my reading tastes are erratic at best. However, I was still ill-prepared for how low-brow and inadequate I would feel mere seconds later.
The shelves contained every book I have ever aspired to read, but haven't. Rimbaud, Alain de Botton, and Nietzsche, the history of civilization, commentaries on the Arab-Israeli conflict. It was like the ghosts of good literary intentions past. I finally picked out The God of Small Things – the cover was pretty. After 50 pages I had to concede defeat. The wandering prose, subtle similes and sombre tone just didn't hold my interest. And it doesn't end there: the only thing I know about Salman Rushdie is that he cameoed in Bridget Jones' Diary. I have no idea what A Suitable Boy is about – relationship advice, I presume. Also, I hate The Catcher in the Rye. It's not for want of trying: I re-read it every a year, hoping in vain to see the light. I understand that within the context it was written it would have been ground-breaking and irreverent. Nowadays the ideas still resonate, but they are not extraordinary. Salinger's protagonist is essentially just another emo I don't want to hear from.
I'm not proud of this. I didn't set out to be a literary philistine, it's just turned out that way. I find these books are uniformly intimidating, and usually depressing, so to be honest I'd rather steer clear. Some might say that this is characteristic of younger generations – we're too used to things being dumbed down to appreciate fine linguistic turns of phrase and abstract esoteric thought. Personally, I think sometimes some of us need a break from the gloom and doom we are bombarded with on a daily basis. I hate that an inanimate object can make me feel obtuse, or depressed at the futility of existence, so mostly I'd just rather relax with a Ben Elton, or Dazed and Confused.
That or I'll give A Suitable Boy go - I could use the dating tips.
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1 comment:
"Salinger's protagonist is essentially just another emo I don't want to hear from."
Hahahaha good call...these books were just created to make the people who read all the way through them feel superior for finishing it. Typical of the English Canon. Think about it in mountaineering terms (which I'm sure is a line of interpretation all your readers call upon). Think Edmond Hillary "the first man to climb Everest". Now he (albeit the Western World) were soooooo impressed with him scaling Everest that no one remembers his Nepalese side kick Tattoo - no sorry, that was the midget from Fantasy Island - Sorry Tenzing Norgay. He and his people had probably been scaled Everest up & down for years. Everest was boring to Tenzing. Tenzing was more about the ocean & surfing. He didnt make the history books though. Why? Its the same reason as these books...They address the same themes that have been addressed for thousands of years and just because they have been written in such a way that they are seemingly unaccecessable to us Tenzings of the world - the Sir Hillary's of the world believe that it represents the true essence of the human condition. Pffft. The truth is we've seen it all before, just in a more exciting structure. Great post. ;-)
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