I'm not ashamed to say I'm like a child in my reading preferences. Much like every young girl in America right now who lives, eats and breathes the movie "Frozen," I go through similar phases with what I enjoy reading, and my preferences are greatly influenced by current events and things I get into. For example, when I saw Spielberg's "Lincoln" in 2012, I was compelled to read read Doris Goodwin's "Team of Rivals," on which the movie was based. It was an interesting delve into someone else's psyche. One observation I had while watching the movie was that Daniel Dae Lewis' portrayal of Lincoln was, in my opinion, incredibly sexy, which was exactly the way Goodwin drew the character in her book. This was followed by some further biographical reading about John Wilke's Boothe, and the Civil War, both non-fictional and historical fiction.
This past year, thanks to the wonder that is Netflix, I became obsessed with ABC's Once Upon A Time. I caught up and now watch it as it airs on Sundays. The problem with that show on that network is that ABC is owned by Disney. And Disney has ruined many fairy tales over the years by making them suitable for children, when, in fact, many "faery tales" were originally intended to scare children into behaving. (Back when tactics like that were allowed, as opposed to today when we are forced, by threat of a call to CPS, to coddle our children into small, entitled, disrespectful brats. But that's a topic for another blog.) So my current literary interest is reading the original, pre-Disney texts of the fairy tales I'm enjoying watching on Once Upon A Time. I've recently read Grimm's "Snow White," Berrie's "Peter Pan and Wendy," and Collodi's "The Adventures of Pinocchio" (that was a helluva book!).
Two days before Halloween, I was in the mood for a ghost story. There was a book that had been on my shelf which I'd picked up at Half-Priced Books several years ago that had been "haunting" me (pun intended). Gregory Maguire's "Lost."The synopsis said it was a modern ghost story. So I grabbed it and took it to bed.
I'm
still having difficulty shaking myself out of the book and back to reality. I like when a
book leaves an impression on me, because I know it made me think! But the effect it had on me is odd. A paradox. From the first word, I was sucked in. Not because it was
necessarily a page-turner, like Dan Brown's books always are for me, but
because it was a complete train wreck! I seriously felt like a freeway driver
rubber-necking as I drove past a car accident. And that sensation continued throughout the entire
book. I couldn't stop reading! But the thing is, I hated every
character in the book! Not a single one was sympathetic to me! They were
all quirky, tragic, completely self-absorbed and rude to each other. The attempt by Mr. Maguire, if any, at justification
for their behavior was, at best, vague and half-assed. And who knows? Maybe that was exactly what he intended. Yet I still
couldn't stop reading. I can't explain it. I was simply and utterly
invested in finding out just what the hell was going on and where these
people I'd grown to hate ended up.
The ending was ... appropriate ...
if not altogether satisfying. And I was never so happy to put a book back on the shelf as this one. But I didn't walk away from the book empty-handed. This book taught me, not only the power a good writer can have over people, but also that there is a difference between 'like' and 'enjoy.' I can say, with absolute, unarguable certainty that I did not like this book. Not one bit! But I thoroughly enjoyed it!
There are some books I can (and have) re-read several times--Adams' "Watership Down," L'Engle's "A Wrinkle In Time," Wolverton's "The Courtship of Princess Leia," Tolkien's "The Hobbit"--but Maguire's "Lost" is one book I cannot see myself ever revisiting. It will, however, remain on my shelf, amidst the other books he wrote which I enjoyed, as a reminder that some experiences are simply necessary.
