Books I Quit

Kim had to confess last week that she had, apparently for not the first time, not finished reading The Iliad. I don’t think we can blame her for that. We want a post, but Homer isn’t easy. She’ll get there, but in her own time. That sort of classic should be enjoyed, not forced (unless it’s a student who wouldn’t read it any other way, then go ahead and force). Regardless of any of that, I thought it might make Kim feel a little better to take this week to talk about a few books that gave me trouble as well.

Now, I can’t immediately remember any books that I tried and quit without having come back to them eventually. Usually I do, or at least I have as far as I remember. There are a couple that took me a few tries though, sometimes over the course of ten years or so, so we’ll talk about those.

The first was War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. I imagine people can understand this one. I think I first got a paperback of this in 1994. I tried reading it, and then tried reading it again a few months later. I didn’t get very far in. Of course, I was seventeen, but still. I don’t think I read more than a couple hundred pages on either attempt. Those who know War and Peace know there’s a hell of a lot further to go than that. In any case, I stopped both times. Then I quit trying for a while. I thought about it, but I didn’t read it. I can’t remember if I even tried it again until the time I read it. I might have, I might not. Regardless, I had a copy when I got to the semester break during my first year of law school. I figured I wasn’t going to ever have that much time again without work, school, or significant other putting some kind of demands on me, so I gave it another shot…and got through just fine. I think I just needed to get a certain momentum in to carry me through.

Same with In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust (alternatively translated as Remembrances of Things Past). I first got the gigantic two-volume silver set with the alternative title I mention in the parenthetical. That was maybe in 1998, or perhaps as late as 2000-2001. I tried to get into it because Kerouac spoke of it so highly and I was still really into him, but I couldn’t get past the bit where he talks in the beginning about dreading going to bed and the confusion he experienced waking up in the middle of the night. You might laugh, or you might know and not scoff. After all, he goes on about this for at around a hundred pages. I just couldn’t take it, especially with the weight of those tombs making my wrist numb as I tried to, and gave up. I tried at least two times, though I can’t remember how many precisely before the summer of 2005. Summer 2005 was when I picked up the 6 volume more modern set with the title above. I was summering at a firm in Kansas City before my last year of law school. Though I lived just around the corner from the Plaza and did do a bit of drinking on the weekend with the other summers (as well as some during the week by myself), I didn’t really know anyone in town and didn’t really have much to do. Sometimes I could watch the young coeds in the pool directly outside my window (it was a large apartment complex with a lot of young college kids), but not all the time. I got a lot of reading done, including just steaming through one volume of Proust after the other. Again, once I got momentum to get through him talking about not wanting to go to bed, somewhere over a hundred pages perhaps, I powered right though.

I’m sure there’s got to be a book I’ve quit and haven’t come back to, but I just don’t remember. I’m sure it isn’t as important a book to me as these two were that I really wanted to read and had trouble making myself do. Anyway, I just wanted to confirm to Kim that she wasn’t alone on this and I’ve failed to get through a challenging book I really wanted to read a couple times myself.

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