There's this blog I like to go to, just because it's usually quite entertaining and full of stuff I can relate to, Living the Romantic Comedy (http://livingromcom.typepad.com), "In which Billy Mernit, author of "Writing the Romantic Comedy", explores the relationship between romance portrayed in the movies and experienced in so-called real life." Because I often feel like I'm trapped in some never-ending romantic comedy that never really gets romantic or funny. Sort of like many of the movies I find myself sitting through, LOL.
Anyway, the point today is a post he made a couple of days ago that I liked a lot, where he confesses that he has had to give up on reading Joyce's Ulysses. Bloom has gotten the best of him. My personal literary bete noire is Moby Dick. I have never, ever been able to get more than about 50 pages into that thing. There. I've said it. Maybe it's because I first read it in high school, a place that can suck the life out of the best books (if I didn't already love Austen by the time senior AP English rolled around, that reading of Pride and Prejudice would never have captured me). I kept falling asleep every time I started MD, but did get a 97% on the test after reading the Cliff's Notes. I'm not proud of this, but honestly, what is the point of counting how many times "whiteness" is mentioned?
I've always been a voracious reader, and will read almost anything and find SOMETHING to enjoy in it. After high school, I found a new appreciation for Hawthorne, even, which I hated in the 11th grade. I love Russian literature (it's the morbid in me, I guess), Middlemarch, Shakespeare, Proust, Flaubert, even Thomas Pynchon. Well, Mason and Dixon, anyway. Whatever. But MD--nope. It's my Ulysses, I guess. What's yours?