Well, the long account I'd written about skipping chapters to get to the end of a horrid book somehow got deleted before I could paste it in. Just as well, I guess. If a novel becomes so tedious that one turns impatiently to the last page, rather than reading more and more slowly to make the story last, why write paragraphs and paragraphs about it? The novel, in case you're wondering, was one of Rudyard Kiplings decidedly lesser works, THE LIGHT THAT FAILED. My advice is to read the JUNGLE BOOKS instead.
No comments:
Post a Comment