Let's talk books. It's been a while since we've discussed the topic. I haven't had to read as many novels for my classes this semester, but the books I have had to read have been -- to put it mildly -- atrocious. Abominations. Abhorrent. Maybe a fourth "a" word that's equally as bad. That's how bad they've been.

Okay, so they're not THAT bad, but they're not that good, either. The problem is, coming off the tails of last semester's Nearly Perfect Reading List, the stuff I've had to read this semester pales in comparison. To note:

Frank Norris' The Octopus: The first book assigned this semester, we were supposed to read this 500-something page novel in one week. Yeah, right. It's a turn-of-the-century novel about the railroad companies railroading helpless Californian farmers. Kind of like an early-20th century The Wire. Except, instead of being cool like The Wire, it's just needlessly verbose and super slow. (Though, I guess critics of The Wire would say the same thing.) If Norris had chopped 200 pages from the final draft, I might've liked this one a lot more than I did.

William Faulkner's "The Bear": Yeah, it's Faulkner, and yeah, it's cool, but can a brother get a "What the fuck?" when it comes to that fourth section? I actually thought it was the most interesting part of the story, albeit the most confusing. Still, this is not a story you can read on the subway. Don't try it. You won't understand anything. (Assuming you'll actually comprehend something even under the best reading circumstances.)

Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer: The setting of this novel is somewhere in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. Thus, I enjoyed the rural/Southern nods to the wilderness or places like Krogers. What I did not enjoy was the plodding pace of the story and the extremely irritating crotchety-old-man character. I know we're not supposed to like him, but Jesus. I just wanted to skip any section he was in, because I knew something he would think or say would piss me off. (I brought this book along with me on my trip to Denver. Two observations: One, I told Adam I wasn't a fan and showed him the cover. He said, "Yeah, I could've told you that." Two, when I ordered the book used online, I happened to get a large-print edition. That's cool, except for the fact that there are lots of sex scenes in the book. This made me feel very uncomfortable reading the book in public -- at the airport, on the plane, on the subway -- when people could easily glance over and read the 89-point font.)

Barbara Gowdy's The White Bone: This was the breaking point for me. I couldn't stand this book. One of the most frustrating things I've ever had to read in my life. I felt that every minute I spent reading this book was a minute I could've better spent doing anything else. Here's the deal: I think Gowdy has an interesting idea here -- telling a story from the point-of-view of a pack of African elephants. Cool. Unfortunately, this idea gets completely marred through its execution. There are WAY too many characters, all with bizarre names that make it incredibly hard to picture/differentiate one from another. Gowdy creates a pseudo-elephant language that requires the use of a six-page glossary. And, to me, anyway, it's just NOT THAT INTERESTING. Look, I'm not a fan of harvesting elephant tusks for ivory. That's fucked up. I don't need to read a novel from the point-of-view of elephants to know that. Nor do I need to read a novel from the point-of-view of elephants to know that they are intelligent, loyal creatures with their own kinship and customs. They're elephants -- they're fucking awesome. So it's a cool idea, I just don't quite see the utility in it, I suppose. (Edit: I just wanted to include a lovely excerpt from the novel to give you a sense of what it's like: "As he hurried along, his engorged penis bumped splashing on the ground... 'I am the biggest bull,' he murmured. She did not move. 'You are as fat as a water-boulder...'")

I have one more novel to go for this class -- Octavia Butler's Dawn. It's Sci-Fi, not my favorite genre in the world. I'm only 40 pages in, but so far it's been all right. The best book yet. But maybe that's because it's coming right after one of the most frustrating reading experiences I've ever had in my life. We'll see how it pans out.

To keep my sanity, I've been doing fun reading on the side: I'm re-reading Amy Hempel's Collected Stories; my sister got me an awesome book called Who Would Win?, one of those party-books to spark discussion; I also found a cheap used copy of The Complete Calvin and Hobbes, so I'm re-reading those comics. Thank god for good writing.