Do we speed-walk through the Louvre to see the masterpieces as quickly as possible?
This cracked me up, because I actually did that. I only had a couple hours, and the size of the museum is almost overwhelming.
Besides, when I read something really good, like Hitchhiker's Guide, I usually flip it over and start it again!
The flip side of that is that the career you want to be in very rarely looks like advertised; people going in for the money are the ones who end up the least disillusioned when they enter the job market.
Going to have to disagree with you here. I don't think you're wrong, but your stance is personal matter of taste that's somewhere between 20 pages per minute and 20 pages per hour.
I prefer fantasy and sci-fi (both YA and non-YA), because I like to explore the world building. I don't mind the simplicity of YA novels. I use reading as relaxing entertainment where I can shut off a few cylinders. Though I do enjoy heavier stuff like Sanderson's Stormlight Archives.
That's fine; keep doing what you enjoy. But there is life-changing fiction, so it is not as though there is nothing a person could choose to read that would be great.
They can be good or great entertainment, but that's not what is generally meant when educated people say that a book is great literature. The artistic value of a book is almost independent of how entertaining it might be.
(I say "almost independent" because people who care about the "deeper meaning" get great pleasure from taking their time to discover it.)
Although, sometimes I read those and enjoy them, mostly in an airport. No harm done.
Dr. Seuss's "Oh, the places you'll go" could be read by one person as just a whimsical children's tale. Someone else, though, might see it as an interesting allegory on the journeys that a person might face in their own life.
Likewise, I might look at a squirrel burying nuts in the ground, and see just a squirrel. But a buddhist monk might derive some great wisdom from watching the very same thing.
It reminds me of a few movies I enjoyed dearly when I was a kid. After a rewatch they seem like a bunch of good gags, that tell a miserable story. If I would judge the scenes by themselves, I would say they are nice. However if you put them in order, it seems forced to put a story together.
I had similar thoughts after reading Pratchett's The Colour of Magic. Though after I started reading The Light Fantastic it fell into place. I would say that those two books should be inseparable. Whatever happens in the first does not make sense until the second book. Now I can say that I enjoyed it more then Mort and Guards! Guards!, but at the moment it's all I read from Discworld, do maybe my opinion is yet to change. I wonder if it's the same with Hitchhiker's Guide. But I'm on 19th chapter of 4th book and although this one feels much better, whatever happens in previous three still does not make any sense.
I'll pass if you will tell me it should not make sense, that's figurative 'it' and I get it as it is. Because coherence is what makes a story for me.
You mentioned judging the scenes by themselves; this is how I view Hitchhiker's Guide, as a compilation of great scenes that each occasionally do have some great meta-commentary on the world at large, and almost all are funny and self-contained. There isn't so much "development" as there is a progression of in-jokes.
The characters are more or less used as puzzle pieces to fit into a scene; while they might not really "develop" so to speak, they are fun archetypes that are thrown into silly situations, and we recognize them by what they do and say. They don't compare to most novels or literature when it comes to character development, but it can often be a gag as well just how far they've come without developing whatsoever.
It definitely does try hard, and it definitely is incoherent. This turns it off to a lot of people, and that's totally reasonable. For those who essentially want to read Spaceballs, however, it is a work of art comparable to Plato's Republic.
Beyond that, though, comedy itself can be interesting because it looks at life from a different perspective. Much of comedy is based around the idea of looking at the mundane aspects of life, and getting a fresh perspective.
Why do we drive on 'parkways' but park on 'driveways'? etc.
We have governments, and bureaucracy in our daily lives.
What would that look like if you extended that concept to an intergalatic civilization? You'd have a race of bureaucrats that end up destroying our planet to make room for a new construction project.
It's common for sci-fi stories to focus on the fantastical and awe-inspiring aspects of the story, like teleportation and faster-than-light travel.
This, however, focuses on the mundane aspects of life. Yes, there are fantastical elements to the story, like 'improbability drives' and such. But the focus of the story is on the banalities of life. The daily quirks and joys and annoyances that affect us all.
Arthur Dent is dealing with local red tape, and the local pencil-pushers try to destroy his house to make way for a highway. His universe then grows dramatically as he learns that there is a vast universe out there, teaming with intelligent life. And guess what? He's still stuck dealing with bureaucrats that want to destroy his home.
Life isn't always about psychic powers and laser guns. Sometimes it's just about crushing on a girl that you like, and having her run off the with asshole with a better ride.
That's an interesting story, even if the asshole has two heads and the 'ride' is a spaceship.
By contrast, comedy's almost the only thing that works for me in silent film. And not just the slapstick (though that's great) but also visual-narrative comedy. That and mind-blowingly-large-scale spectacle, like the epics usually manage for some part of their runtime. Serious, personal drama? Nope. Books or talkies for that.
I just finished Marquis de Sade's ‘Justine’—what's so difficult about that book that would require me to sit down to read it? The pornography and torture? Or the wading of the heroine from one misfortune to another? There are only a few philosophical sections in the book, and it's not hard to think about them while they're recounted.
Guess what, Plato works fine as audiobooks. Because people were telling to each other arguments such as his, for ages—exactly the reason why you can't read or listen to Socrates, and probably part of the reason for the dialog format. There's always the pause button if you need a minute to mull over what you hear.
On top, narrator performances are sometimes delights in their own right.
And on the contrary, even Fry's excellent reading can't hide how in the Harry Potter series, topographical descriptions are often clumsy, confusing and claustrophobic, especially in dungeons or forests. Plenty of authors have this problem with places, doubly so with tight ones. Except for Vonnegut, who dances around physical descriptions like they barely concern him. Perhaps someone should've read those passages out loud to Rowling?
> Frears said, “What we realized was that the novel was a machine to get to twelve crucial speeches in the book about romance and art and music and list-making and masculine distance and the masculine drive for art and the masculine difficulty with intimacy.”
> This is the case for most novels: you have to read seven hundred pages to get the handful of insights that were the reason the book was written, and the apparatus of the novel is there as a huge, elaborate, overbuilt stage set.
This is a pet peeve of mine in any type of art, especially installation art or sculpture where a clear and simple point can be quite literally expanded into a elaborate and overbuilt set that doesn't add to the impact. Or worse, obfuscates the original idea.
But then there's an explorative type of art where the method and the process is much more meaningful than the insight or punchline that the novel may have been built around. The Waves by Virginia Woolf, for example.
(edited to use my words more good)
Either way, your lifetime will never be enough to cover everything.
One year I decided to blow through as many books as I could, and the next year I took my time and re-read the interesting ones much more closely. If I hadn't spend the previous year getting through as many as I could, I wouldn't have found even half of the interesting ones.
There is a middle ground between consuming as much as possible and carefully reading every book.
I wasn’t aware of this. Found it[1] and couldn’t last through the whole thing. Right next to it on the search results was a parody[2].
I learned some important lessons in life from fiction books, which quite literally changed my life.
Good fiction reflects reality - that's why authors like Branden Sanderson will always be a complete joke, they don't understand anything meaningful "irl".
this is such a horrible take on fiction that I've seen popup in recent times. 'Consuming' fiction as a sort of pokemon card collection and to 'acquire knowledge'.
Better read a few works of fiction deeply and genuinely for their own sake rather than trying to vacuum up books in the name of some shallow self improvement. This post reminds me of the guy with the lamborghini and the bookshelf in his garage.