Books I Was Supposed to Read for School and Didn't

1.       The Great Gatsby 

My failure to read this book was purely a result of laziness (I mean. So was every failure on this list. But that was the ONLY reason for this one). I actually like F. Scott Fitzgerald, in spite of his questionable sanity and his chauvinistic tendencies (has anybody else noticed that he and Zelda were basically the perfect psychotic couple? I mean, they just really found each other. It’s like a very creepy love story). Anyway. I was supposed to read this in eleventh grade. So I read about twenty pages, and quit. Since then, I’ve thought, “I should read that,” on a few occasions, but could never quite muster up the courage to spend fifteen dollars on it (fifteen dollars. On a paperback copy. That is roughly the size of a pamphlet. I went through this same dilemma with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. Sometimes I really hate publishers. And people. And the world). Anyway, now that the movie is coming out (and I have actually mustered up some excitement about it), I figure I should suck it up and buy a copy. And, you know, actually read it. Because that would be the point of buying it. Obviously. 

2.       The Stranger 

This is a book with great symbolism and meaning and is widely regarded as a work of art, by all accounts. It doesn’t matter. I still don’t like it, and I’ll tell you why: I did not like the main character. No. Worse than that. I didn’t care about him. Not even a little bit. I read maybe two chapters of the thing and called it quits. He was aloof, he was distant, he cared about was nothing. He wasn’t sympathetic; he was just…there. And I know that this was supposed to be the point, and the fact that he is that way is very pertinent to the novel and its themes, but it doesn’t matter. Maybe, one day, I will be able to read this book, and I won’t mind that I feel absolutely nothing towards the main character—hate or love or anything—and I will be able to appreciate it for its themes and its message. But so far I am not that advanced.  

3.       Heart of Darkness 

Our teacher actually read a lot of this one out loud to us in class. And I still didn’t finish it. That takes a special kind of laziness, ladies and gentlemen. An it-is-senior-year-and-I-can’t-be-bothered kind of laziness. People underestimate the debilitating effects of senioritis. I swear by the end of the year we were walking zombies who couldn’t be bothered to wash our hair on a semi-regular basis. Or, I don’t know, maybe that was just me. 

4.       Their Eyes Were Watching God 

Another debilitating effect of senioritis. Couldn’t be bothered. Is it any good? I didn’t have any particular aversion to this one, just a vague disinterest that probably wouldn’t have prevented me from reading it if it had been any other time than March of my senior year. As it was, I read three chapters and called it quits.