Island Life with Pighead-on-poke
A couple weeks back I was absorbed in listening to "The Lord of the Flies," as read by the author. I remember reading this (with some horror) either voluntarily or as an assignment in jhs or high school. When I recently trolled for audio at the library a while back, it humped my hand.
I strongly encourage you to consider taking a gander at Mr. Golding's book. Even if it is in the "re-gander" category, as with me. He's got something going here on the topic of what happens when the rule of law is suspended or absent. There is definitely a resonance with our current circumstances that can cause a certain tintinnabulation. Possibly to the point of pain, if you do not take precautions.
I was in the homestretch on the audio when this review coincidentally popped up, well-written and entertaining to the point where you may not be able to resist:
For four years, I saw the books everywhere: on desktops, in the cafeteria, on the top shelves of lockers, stuffed into backpacks. They were so prevalent that I came to recognize each title from the briefest glimpse of its cover. I waited through my high school years for one of my English teachers to assign them -- The Catcher in the Rye, Catch-22, To Kill a Mockingbird -- but none ever did, nor did any of my college instructors.
It's not that I regret reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Great Expectations, or The Grapes of Wrath in my advanced English classes. Still, I've long suspected I missed something by not catching up with the assigned reading books that were never assigned to me.
This year I've pledged to catch up, starting with William Golding's classic Lord of the Flies. Of all the required reading books I wasn't assigned, this is the one that interested me the most. Why I never simply grabbed a copy to read on my own, I can't say. Fifteen years after graduation (excuse me while I shudder at this seemingly incomprehensible fact), I've finally decided now is the time.
I'll forego the quasi-pseudo-deep analysis (one bonus of reading the book on my own is: no essay assignments) and instead share the not-even-remotely-earth-shattering news that Lord of the Flies is terrific. I suppose that's a given, in light of its enduring placement on classroom reading lists and the way it has connected with each successive generation of readers since its initial publication in 1954.
What wasn't such a given was how well the book holds up when one isn't forced to read it. Has the book aged badly in the more than half-century since it debuted? Is it a "great book" that's enjoyable to read, or a "medicine book" that the reader must choke down because it's good for her? My answers: no, yes, and no.
-clip-
I strongly encourage you to consider taking a gander at Mr. Golding's book. Even if it is in the "re-gander" category, as with me. He's got something going here on the topic of what happens when the rule of law is suspended or absent. There is definitely a resonance with our current circumstances that can cause a certain tintinnabulation. Possibly to the point of pain, if you do not take precautions.
I was in the homestretch on the audio when this review coincidentally popped up, well-written and entertaining to the point where you may not be able to resist:
For four years, I saw the books everywhere: on desktops, in the cafeteria, on the top shelves of lockers, stuffed into backpacks. They were so prevalent that I came to recognize each title from the briefest glimpse of its cover. I waited through my high school years for one of my English teachers to assign them -- The Catcher in the Rye, Catch-22, To Kill a Mockingbird -- but none ever did, nor did any of my college instructors.
It's not that I regret reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Great Expectations, or The Grapes of Wrath in my advanced English classes. Still, I've long suspected I missed something by not catching up with the assigned reading books that were never assigned to me.
This year I've pledged to catch up, starting with William Golding's classic Lord of the Flies. Of all the required reading books I wasn't assigned, this is the one that interested me the most. Why I never simply grabbed a copy to read on my own, I can't say. Fifteen years after graduation (excuse me while I shudder at this seemingly incomprehensible fact), I've finally decided now is the time.
I'll forego the quasi-pseudo-deep analysis (one bonus of reading the book on my own is: no essay assignments) and instead share the not-even-remotely-earth-shattering news that Lord of the Flies is terrific. I suppose that's a given, in light of its enduring placement on classroom reading lists and the way it has connected with each successive generation of readers since its initial publication in 1954.
What wasn't such a given was how well the book holds up when one isn't forced to read it. Has the book aged badly in the more than half-century since it debuted? Is it a "great book" that's enjoyable to read, or a "medicine book" that the reader must choke down because it's good for her? My answers: no, yes, and no.
-clip-
posted by Sir Gumbo at 10:18 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home