Friday Column: Moving On

We all have been in this situation: We have invested hours of our time, we have gotten to know certain characters (and maybe we even like them), we have carried this novel with us to work, have had co-workers feign interest in it, have spilled a little coffee on it, have worn down the cover's glossy sheen.

But something isn't quite working. This novel just isn't getting the job done.

Long ago were the days when I would follow virtually any book down to its very last word. Maybe you would say that I had more dedication back then, but probably I just had more patience with bad books. I think in those days I read a little bit differently. My biases hadn't yet hardened into calcium-white thickets for a novel to gingerly creep through. I wasn't so overwhelmingly aware of all the books out there waiting for me. Probably I didn't have that great taste. Well, those days are long gone. I've long since evolved into the kind of reader that has no problem dropping a book once I've decided it's time to quit.

I try to be fair, to not jettison the book until I really know it's over. This author has put months, probably years of effort into crafting this book. She's probably dreamed of being a writer all her life, endured hassles and indignities on the road to publication, went deep into debt to pay for an MFA program. And what about me? I don't want to toss aside a stillborn, half-read book. It's not so much the lost time; it's just that an unread book is a little bit sad.

So how do things get to this point? Usually it starts out as a gut feeling, like a barely perceptible black spot just on the edge of my vision. Something's marring this experience, but I can't quite say what. On its own accord, my brain starts trying to put the problem into words during my free time. It's not that it's a bad book, it's just that the prose isn't really all that interesting. The characters, they're not really so much embodied as explained. Perhaps at this point I haven't even realized that this book is bugging me. I'll take this critical monologue as nothing more than free thinking. Or maybe I'll say that I'm just in a negative mood.

But if this keeps up long enough, then sooner or later I'm forced to admit that I have a problem. I'm not ready to give up, though. Far from it, in fact. Okay, maybe the book does have certain faults, but don't other aspects make up for it? Aren't all novels flawed in some way?

Though I may try to act like this is just a bump in the read, in reality this is the critical moment: either I'll find a reason to like this book or else it's all downhill from here.

Sometimes I do find that reason, but most of the time, most of the time I don't. This is where things start to get ugly. This is where I start actively disliking the book. My God! I can't believe this writing! This is characterization? This is plotting? Sometimes I choose to show my disdain by skimming. If you're going be so frivolous with words, then I don't have to read every single one of them. Maybe I'll insult the book by comparing it to a better one. I'll start looking online for reviewers who dissed the book. When a reviewer expresses the same criticism that I've thought up, it's like scoring a direct hit. Reviewers who--my God!--liked the book? They're clearly illiterate.

At this point I'm thoroughly poisoned against the book, and there's really nothing left to do but take the last step. Still, though, something prevents me. Some bit of irrationality keeps me holding on. Well maybe it gets better. Maybe the book can pull itself out. I tell myself this, but then I look over to the stacks and stacks of books waiting to be read. Is it really fair to them to keep reading this monstrosity? Is it fair to them? Is it fair to me?

And then the blow falls.

Comments

[zhunzaly]

Sounds familiar. I tend to react to those books by accelerating and trying to finish in a mad dash just to be done with them.

Ever had that somewhat similar feeling where you're reading a longish and fairly complicated book that you're enjoying but as you go on you become increasingly less eager to pick it up? You know once you've been going for five minutes you'll start liking it, but the prospect of starting to read fills you with dread. Maybe the prose is dense or the story is great but glacial. When you read it you admire it, but you find yourself reading for increasingly short periods. You catch yourself obsessively surfing the web and rereading magazine articles and old programmes - anything to put off going back. Eventually, you start something else and it kind of slips out of the picture. Then, a few months later, you start remembering the bits you liked and try to go back to it. But you've forgotten too much, so you have to start the whole process again...

[Fern Chasida]

I really identify with your post. FYI, here is an article by Harry Mount titled Our reverence for books is ludicrous and here is my blog post on the subject Books are for enjoyment, dammit

[Daniel]

I bought VS Naipaul's collection of essays "The Writer and the World" and have had the same problem. I keep picking it up, reading one or two essays and putting it back down for a few weeks. The writing is good, clear and descriptive. The subjects are interesting at face value. I've even found myself making references to the essays I've read, which is usually a really good sign, but I'm still not enjoying the book.

[Ann Darnton]

It's your last point that really strikes a chord with me. If I find myself looking at the TBR pile and thinking I'd really rather be reading 'that' than 'this', then I know the current book is going to loose out. Certainly in the UK too many people are turned off reading at an early age by being forced to finish books they have no interest in in school. How can you learn to be a discriminating reader if you don't have the right to say "I've tried this and it isn't for me"?

[Ann Darnton]

It's your last point that really strikes a chord with me. If I find myself looking at the TBR pile and thinking I'd really rather be reading 'that' than 'this', then I know the current book is going to loose out. Certainly in the UK too many people are turned off reading at an early age by being forced to finish books they have no interest in in school. How can you learn to be a discriminating reader if you don't have the right to say "I've tried this and it isn't for me"?

[Pete]

I hear you, Scott. It's even worse when the book was sent to you by an aspiring writer. You want to give the poor guy the benefit of the doubt, and read it all the way through to the end and then have some kind words for him on your blog. But you look longingly at the pile of unread books on your nightstand, knowing there's some great stuff in there that your time would be better spent on, and say Screw it, life's too short, and file the book away. I've had to do this several times, losing a few potential writer-friends in the process.

[Kit Stolz]

"For every book I read I scorn twenty."

Emerson (from memory)

[Imani]

My favourite part of trying (then abandoning) bad books is getting affirmation from other readers, especially if the book was highly praised.