I wish I were a more avid reader of novels and short fiction. When I I wish I were a more avid reader of novels and short fiction. When I walk into bookstores, I gravitate towards the shelves of nonfiction books, where I am able to dive into particular books and size them up quickly … Continue reading
\nwalk into bookstores, I gravitate towards the shelves of nonfiction
\nbooks, where I am able to dive into particular books and size them up
\nquickly for their content, style, and enjoyability. When I look at the
\nfiction section, I am lost. I've recently forced myself to take up
\nreading a novel or two. Some weeks ago, I borrowed Anansi Boys: A Novel<\/a>
\nfrom the Berkeley Public Library. I forced myself through the first two
\nchapters but finally decided to return the book unfinished. I didn't
\nhave to finish what I had started, Laura reminded me. Two weeks ago,
\nwhile browsing the new books at my church library, I decided to borrow Gilead: A Novel<\/a>. Reading about Marilynne Robinson's book in The New York Review of Books<\/a>
\nhad made me receptive to picking the book up in the first place. At
\nabout fifty pages into the novel, I've decided that I would like to
\npush towards the end. I can't say that I'm excited about the book;
\nrather, I've grown mildly affectionate for the narrator and now want to
\nsee how the story turns out. As I read more fiction, maybe I'll turn
\nhow to more quickly size up a work. So far, I have had to withhold my
\njudgement, giving myself over to the author more than I would usually
\ndo for any work of nonfiction, just to decide whether to read the whole
\nbook. Is this an issue of commitment?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"