In my young and more vulnerable years...

I'm just gonna go ahead and kill two birds with this blog post today. I figured, it needs to get going, and at this rate, it takes me weeks after finishing a book to blog about it. I actually don't even really know what I'm going to say about these works... I'm just hoping something will spew out.

I've been done with Huck Fin for, gosh, a few months now. I just finished The Great Gatsby last week, so luckily that is fresh in my mind (although reviewing it might be tough... keep reading). Hopefully I can talk about these in tandem. I think I can. Yeah, I'm just gonna do it.

First, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
by Mark Twain

Quick synopsis: A young boy named Huckleberry Finn fakes his own death to escape his abusive father, and he comes into contact with Jim, a slave who is escaping because he overheard he will be sold downriver. Together they raft down the Mississippi river, getting into all kinds of mischievous and adventurous experiences.

This book is difficult to read. I can't imagine twelve year olds reading it. I know it's true to the way it was back then, and this book is actually an argument against the enslavement of Blacks in the late 19th century, but it's still laborious. The use of the dialect became distracting for me, which is probably the paramount reason why it took me some seven weeks to finish it.

Don't get me wrong. Huck is charming, Jim is lovable, and the fits they find themselves in are entertaining. It's a true journey story, and the spirit of the novel is ripe and resounding. I understand why Twain wrote it the way he did -- form follows function. One certainly could not write a book about this region with this main character and not be true to its every form. So I commend, wholeheartedly, his painstaking effort. I've just learned it's not my taste.

Regardless, though, how 'not fun' it was for me to read, this goes back to what I've been saying about all l these other books, and I think I'm finally catching on: this book says something. It is and has been intensely controversial. Some argue that it attacks racism; others argue that Twain is simply playing into and does not rise above the stereotypes of black people that white people have. Whatever the case may be, and whatever one might think, there is no getting around the conversation it stirs. It gets us talking about race and what that means, and even though it is at times gritty and ugly, it's more important to talk about than to not.

According to Wikipedia, Twain wrote this for adults, and he was appalled when people considered it a children's story. Huckleberry Finn, then, is a tool used to ignite conversation and controversy, to mess up the status quo -- and when literature can do it for more than a hundred years, yeah, I have no doubt calling that a classic.

Second, The Great Gatsby
by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Quick synopsis: Nick Carraway, an ex army solider who moved to the West Egg area of New York to sell bonds, lives next door to Jay Gatsby, perhaps the most lavish and popular man of the town. Through befriending him, he reunites long lost lovers Jay and his cousin, Daisy, amidst tumultuous repercussions.

One of my favorite movies is Midnight in Paris. The main character finds himself, at the stroke of midnight in Paris, amongst famous writers and artists of the 20s--Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, Picasso, to name a few. On the first time of this occurrence, when Gil (the main character) doesn't quite yet know what is going on, he runs into someone whom he later finds out is "Scott Fitzgerald." I remember getting chills at that moment when they met because I knew Gil was in the presence of brilliance. Had I read any of Fitzgerlad's work? No! But he's F. Scott Fitzgerald! He wrote The Great Gatsby -- it's a classic!

My take on The Great Gatsby is this: it's a great novel. It's written well, it touches on some really deep themes of love, desire, truth, and even jealousy. It's a quick read. It's got great characterization. It's just... good.

I find it interesting the main character is merely the observer of it all, though. Nick Carraway doesn't go through any conflict. Doesn't have a desire that, before it may or may not be achieved, must be burdened with obstacles. He doesn't go through a change at the end. He is just merely there, the narrator of it all, watching as the world passes him by. The characters he interacts with, i.e. Gatsby, Tom and Daisy Buchanan, George and Myrtle Wilson -- these people are the ones this story is about. I imagine Fitzgerald chose the narration this way to ensure an outsider's perspective, so the readers could see it the way perhaps every single person at Gatsby's parties may perceive him and the others. I don't know. Is it effective? Sure. Is it what I would have done? I'm not sure.

I keep on saying that all of these classics say something about society, and that it gets people talking. Yet when I think about The Great Gatsby, I can't think of what the larger message is. To me, it seems like just another novel, albeit it a very good one, but not one that deserves classic status (The Modern Library named it the second best English-language novel of the 20th century).

WHY?

I'm stumped. Is it a cautionary tale? Cautioning us to... what? Not give in to jealousy? Don't let your long-lost and very flighty lover take the wheel after a huge blow out fight with her husband? Just go find her instead of waiting around for years, hoping the one you'd lost stop by? The people who you think adore you actually don't? What is it about this novel that stands the test of time and is relatable for high schoolers to be reading today?

If anyone's got any thoughts on the matter, it's much appreciated. Maybe I'm just burnt out.

But I'm not done yet. I'm making headway. I started this project last year, almost to the day, and it's depressing how long it's taken me to get through it.  But I am comforted by the fact that the delay has been not because I'm not reading but because I am reading -- just everything else that's not on this list.

It was love at first sight

Catch-22
by Joseph Heller

Quick synopsis: A third-person omniscient narrator recounts the events of the many characters and events in the fictional U.S. Airforce's 256th Squadron based on the island Pianosa in the Mediterranean Sea. The main character, Captain John Yossarian, deals with anxieties and rebellion against the military.

Phew, it's been a while since I've finished this book. I believe I finished it last... August. Or September. Remember how I was going to blog about it soon? Well, this is soon... ish. Relatively speaking.

I love this book. It is messy, complicated, giant -- but it is full of quick wit, perfect irony, call-back jokes and references that you've forgotten and when they sneak up on you, you feel like you're stepping out into the sun after being inside a cold house all day. It is political, it is personal, it is powerful. It's not for everyone, but it certainly is a book I will read and read and read for the rest of my life.

I guess I liked it so much because of the freedom for the (disembodied) narrator. It's third person omniscient, so that gives the narrator to do whatever the heck he/she wants. We are able to go into multiple people's perspectives and minds, and we're able to get to know them in ways that wouldn't be possible with a limited point of view. And yes, there are tons of characters -- so many I now can't even discern who's who without some Wikipedia help or a flow chart (if only I had made one, which I should have, but I guess I just didn't want to ruin the 'flow' of the reading). Like I said, complicated, but beautiful.

But it's not complicated for the sake of being complicated. Heller wanted to capture the experience of being in a war, of being with men you don't like and men you do and men who die and men who escape and men who are your brothers and men who are your superiors. It wouldn't be right if there were only a handful of main characters a few other flat ones off to the side. It wouldn't represent real life.

This book is also intricate. It's weaved together in such a way that keeps on surprising you. The plot isn't linear, which I love, and this allows for character development so that, once their crises happens, you feel for them, you know them, you don't want whatever is happening them to happen to them. Attached, clearly, I am to these characters.

As for what it has done for literature and why it's considered a classic: I don't have a straight answer. I know that this book received very polarized reviews when it first came out -- the New York Times said it sounded like it was shouted onto the page rather than written. I gave it to my dad, who was a navigator and flew in the USAF back in the day, so I figured he'd like it, and I think he did... for the most part. I think there are some things that bothered him, perhaps the rebellious nature of Yossarian, or the complexity of the arrangement of the plot, but in the end he said it was okay. But one of my English teachers (the one who assigned 32 books last semester) said it is one of her all time favorite books and she reads it every year "just to keep sane." Ironic, since the book heavily deals with insanity, and there is a point in which every reader, I believe, feels insane amidst its pages.

Regardless of the critic's thoughts or reviews or what people think about it, I do believe it, like 1984, brings up good discussions about our society, authority, our military, and what it means to have an assigned role, be it in a squadron in the military or in society in general. It may be uncomfortable for some because it pushes the boundaries of normal thought; it's an iconoclast that, in 1955, I don't think the casual reader was ready for it.

Will we ever have another Catch-22? Who knows, but I'm glad we at least have one.

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

Hi, blog, nice to see you like, what, five months later? Yeah, I know. It's been a long time, but! I have been reading a lot in those five months! Just nothing that's on my speculate list. It's been hard to keep up with this project AND go to school at the same time--for instance, I had a class that assigned 32 books. 32! We didn't end up reading them all, but it was roughly two books a week. When I found time to read, I felt guilty for reading something that wasn't required, and thus, five months later here I am.

I actually read Catch-22 right before the semester started, and I'm still surprised at my colossal laziness at not blogging about it. I freakin' loved it. I mean, I loved it. I should have written about it the minute I closed it, when it was still fresh and honeymooney. Maybe I'll post it after this one, once I get Nineteen Eighty Four out of the way. And, without further ado: Nineteen Eighty Four!

Nineteen Eighty Four (Or is it 1984? Just don't be confused with "the greatest album of all time," said to me by my husband every time I mention its name).

by George Orwell

Quick synopsis: Oceania is a society that is run by the Party, a Big Brother, socialistic, totalitarian government that oppresses and completely controls its inhabitants. Winston Smith tries to rebel against it, but... well, if I were to tell you what happens, you wouldn't need to read it, now would you.

Alright, so. 1984. It's one of those novels that's "out there" for me--it's based on ideas, concepts, theories, what-ifs. It's futuristic, one that requires abstract thinking and feeling. And while I'm not opposed to this style of storytelling (heck, I loved Farenheit 451, and I'm generally open to the idea of science-fiction), I found the story of 1984 to be bland, unconvincing, and mostly over the top. In fact, this book enraged me.

I guess I just don't care for political agendas disguised as stories.

I didn't find sympathy in the characters; I didn't care for them one bit. I didn't find the "love" between Winston and Julia believable. I couldn't understand the motivations behind Wintson's actions, nor did I understand the purpose of the Party as a whole. Sure, they're Big Brother--thought control and socialism and all that. But what's beneath that? Why are they like this, and how did it get like this?

Maybe I missed all of these things. Maybe my skimming got the best of me. But I don't think so. I attribute my negative feelings toward the novel to Orwell's writing. He's been known for saying "avoid using similes and metaphors," and I certainly can see he sticks to his guns. The writing is drab, void of anything glowing or heart-stopping; it's brute, pale, and something I'd see from a high schooler. If the writing were more poetic--if there were more use of imagery, both the lyrical and narrative voices, if it constructed language in a way that I'd never heard before, maybe then I'd feel convinced of its decisions. Maybe then I'd get behind Winston and Julia's romp, maybe then I'd feel the "love" they feel for one another and maybe then I could immerse myself in Ingsoc and the Party, and maybe then I could truly feel what it was like to live in a place like Oceania.

Come to think of it--maybe that was the whole purpose of the stale style. Maybe I wasn't supposed to feel anything because the members of this society don't feel anything? Certainly that could be an argument. But when Winston has a desire to rebel (and what this desire is founded upon, I'm not too sure--sure, the injustice to his parents and sister, but--where do I see that?!), that means he feels something, and as a reader, I want to feel what he feels. That's one of the reasons why I read!

If any of you can argue this point, please, by all means. I welcome it. I want to like these books. I want to say, yeah, that is one of the greatest books of all time, and here's why. But right now, I can't. Maybe I judged it too quickly and my bias was never pushed aside. Maybe I was too distracted each time I read it. Maybe I need to read it again in a few years and then I'll be ready for it. Who knows.

I will say this, however. I did come upon somewhat of an epiphany as I was reading it. I mentioned earlier that I'm not too fond of books that are written solely for the intention of a political agenda. Sure, I like politics (somewhat), and to a certain extent I find them interesting--but when it's masked as a story, when I feel the author's voice coming through as his "characters," when his characters are thinly veiled versions of what he's both for and against, I feel cheapened, and I'm not buying it.

With that said, I do think this political and social charge is why this book is regarded as canonical. This book, regardless of its writing style or not, says something. It says something about society, or what society could be if it doesn't change its ways. It says something about humanity, how ugly it can be, how lifeless it can become if it's overruled by power. It reminds us to be curious, to remember, to live, to exist, to discover, to evolve, to rebel and be the pioneer you think you are to change you want to see. It deals with opposites, and in that, I felt a yearning for the things that this society is deprived of (in fact, this was the only feeling I felt while reading it). Privacy! Fun! True love! True memories! Significance! Independence! Good literature reminds us what life is all about, and weirdly, through this book's deprivations, I'm reminded exactly.

And that's what I'll tell people when (if) they ask why this book is regarded so highly. I'll put aside the rage I feel for its lack of beautiful writing and its lack of sympathetic characters and discuss what makes it so remarkable: it's because of what they feel when they realize the comforts of their lives and their society are no longer an option. Even those who may think their country is already in a fallen state and could not get any worse would feel pleasure and a strong sense of gratitude that it is nothing like Oceania. 1984 will always be relevant and will always live on, metaphors or not.