Have you ever experienced one of those novels that is difficult to get through? For me, there are two books that fit this description. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy is the first one. Although it’s a great classic, I found it hard to read. I attempted it many years ago and stopped, meaning to return shortly. Ten years later, “shortly” ended. I made up my mind to plow through it, no matter what, and finally got it done.
The other book is the Autobiography of Mark Twain, which a relative gave to me as a Christmas gift. Mostly, it’s the sheer size of this book that I find daunting. The book is about two and a half inches thick and 680 pages long. Arrrgh. Who has TIME to read 680 pages?
(Okay, people, technically the book is 736 pages, but I’m skipping the reference and index sections. There is only so much I can do in my quest for knowledge and keep my sanity at the same time.)
And this book is only Volume 1. I dread to think that Volume 2 could be even bigger.
So for the moment, Mark sits on a shelf, looking at me with his half-glare in the cover photo taken by William Vander Weyde in 1906. I’ve found some other uses for him in the meantime; he is a dandy support for other books and I use his weight to straighten out wrinkled papers. I guess one of these days I’ll be in the mood to tackle him. Right now, I think Mark Twain’s spirit is looking down at me, laughing his head off.
Readers, what book (or books) have you found difficult to finish?