I always thought I was somehow an inadequate English teacher because I refused to read certain works of classic literature. The reason I refuse to read these books are usually due to negative exposure to them when I was younger. I hate reading books that are forced on me, books that get too good a review, and books that look boring.
Of course my rationale has been proven faulty many times (well the rationale wasn’t very rational so I can’t really expect it to stand). My mother forced Harry Potter on me, and surprise, I loved it. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and Last Days of Summer fall under the “looks boring category”. And The Princess Diaries, which got great reviews, was surprisingly good fluff. Also, anything by Chaim Potok, my brother raved about his stuff for years, and I refused to read it, until a guy I dated was into them.
So, there are still a few books I’m holding out on, Atlas Shrugged is one. The type is too small, it’s very fat, and my brother is insisting that I read it. But Atlas Shrugged aside, I read something I never wanted to today. I didn’t read it for all the three cardinal reasons. And you know what, I should have stuck to my guns, because A Wrinkle in Time, is really not worth it’s breath.
Maybe it’s so great because it started the cliché, but we’ve progressed a lot fantasy and retrospectively, the story is sorely lacking. It’s disjointed, lacks adequate explanation, resolution, and the character are almost amazing, but they just miss the mark, which makes them just wannabe’s.
There is some great writing in terms of craft. Her use of imagery and personification to describe is excellent. But this just goes to show, that craft is just the icing and you need actual cake before it can mean anything.
Anywho…my rules still stick…until next time.