WTF Friday: On the Subject of the Difficult Book

Some books are easy to read.  Page one, sometimes word one, *boom.*  You’re in and you’re not letting go.  The characters are engaging, the story moves, and you, the general “you” of readership, are hooked, glued, safety pinned, and attached with any other fastener you can think of.  You stay up later than you should, sneak a few pages when you shouldn’t, are elated when you realize you might have an hour free to get sucked back in.  This is not, of course, an objective book rating tool; what engages you may bore me to tears and vice versa.  But ya’ll get the idea.

Then, we have the “difficult” books, the books that require work.  Maybe the plot moves more slowly or perhaps the characters are unsympathetic.  The world contains too many elements alien to our lives or we have to stop and ponder.  You’re excited to pick it up but don’t do so unless you have a couple of hours because you know you’re going to have to build up momentum.  Books you have to start multiple times or to which you have a backup in case you need a break.

Some of the difficult books are worth it.  Some of them aren’t.

“Worth it” is, of course, another subjective measurement.  My criteria will be different than yours but they’re the ones that matter to me: story pay off, character development, mind blowing ideas, an original twist, a slowly burning meaning.  And yes, I acknowledge that everything is meaningful to the person who write it.  I get it.  Repeat caveat: subjective.

I’m happy to name names in the “worth it” category.  The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell, has a very long first section; I believe it took me three tries to get through it.  It’s beautifully written though it feels, at times, to be moving with the same time distortion as the ship to Rakhat.  I typically prefer my action to come hard and fast at first, after which it can taper off for a while to focus on plot development, but I like to be hooked from go.  What ultimately made The Sparrow worth it for me were: 1) it’s a very different kind of first contact story 2) it’s believable 3)the characters are well differentiated and there isn’t a single one that is either all evil or all good.

In The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, is ponderous the whole way though.  I lost count of how many times I started it and only pushed through because I made sure it was the only entertainment I had with me on a long commute for several weeks running.  The characters are of a secondary sort of importance in this novel, which is diametrically opposed not only to what I like to read, but how I prefer to write.  But the puzzle… oh, the puzzle.  How a person’s mind can conceive of a puzzle with that degree of intricacy, I have no idea and it was that, as much as the story itself, that caught and, shook me, and said, “KEEP GOING, DAMN IT!”

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn either goes into your “love it” pile or your “hate it” pile.  It’s a quick read but a difficult one because there is not a single likable or redeemable character in the whole damn thing.  An innovation and one nearly impossible to pull off because empathy is usually integral to a reader’s connection with a given book and there is none to be had in Gone Girl .  Why the “worth it” ranking?  Because despite being despicable people, or perhaps they were despicable people, I couldn’t let the book’s population go without knowing what happened to it.  I wanted to know who got away with the scheming and who was justly punished.  Flynn is a mistress at exploiting the voyuer in all of us (all.  Don’t deny it.  There’s something you like to watch) and forcing us to acknowledge it.  Which is as uncomfortable, and as liberating, as going commando.

Books that aren’t worth it?  I’m not as comfortable naming names here, but I’ll give you the gist.  Rehashing old ideas without putting a personal stamp on them.  Rambling to no purpose (looking at you J.R.R.).  A book that purports, in the blurb, to be something it isn’t to grab the reader’s attention.  Pretention (of the “you’re an idiot, I’m a genius” type).  Poor editing.  A weak voice.  Weak tense definition.  Such things can be redeemed, but there better be a hell of a twist or that author goes on the “do not fly” list.

When I was younger, and had more free time, I finished every book I started even if, in my (subjective) opinion, it belonged in Sucksville.  Now, I have less time and this has caused me to be lacking in patience.  Sometimes, I put books down.  There are occasions on which I pick them up again.  There are many that fly directly to the “back to the library” bag.  I’m sure I’ve missed out on some really good shit re: my lack of patience.  I can live with it if I geta little extra time with books I love.

Thoughts?