As an English major, one of the things I spend most of my time doing is reading. For the most part, I enjoy it since the material is interesting, and it helps my writing, but sometimes, I can't stand it. That's how I feel currently since I've just finished two novels. One of them is The Crying Of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon, and the other is Democracy by Joan Didion. Both are called great pieces of work by all, but I just don't get it. I couldn't stand reading either novel, and constantly felt like giving up on them halfway through, but somehow, I got through them.
In terms of Pynchon, the problem I had with his novel (and all of his work, I might add) is that it didn't make any sense. The plot alone is ridiculous, and there's so much given about characters, that you don't understand or care for them, if that makes sense. Since I have to write an essay on the novel, I've reread some of it again; it's still confusing, but not nearly as bad as the first time, which gives me hope for my essay and skill as a reader. Didion's novel is still boring to me though, so I have no plans to reread that again, which is a shame considering the premise sounded intriguing.
What I'm saying about these novels and writers is nothing new. It's just something I wanted to get off my chest because reading these novels has made no sense for me. Sure, it's cool to feel intellectual knowing authors and facts, but not when it's like this. When reading is like this, it takes all the fun out of it.
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