I hate not to finish things that I've started. And this year, I'm keeping a journal of the books I read and finish. This came out of a challenge I saw to read 52 books in 52 weeks. No way will I achieve that goal, but I'm doing better than I usually do (I've completed 14 so far this year, and have a few others in various stages of progress).
Anyway, it's felt like an accomplishment to get through more books than I usually do. Until I got to "Lamb."
This is what the novel's description on Amazon.com says:
Lamb traces the self-discovery of David Lamb, a narcissistic middle aged man with a tendency toward dishonesty, in the weeks following the disintegration of his marriage and the death of his father. Hoping to regain some faith in his own goodness, he turns his attention to Tommie, an awkward and unpopular eleven-year-old girl. Lamb is convinced that he can help her avoid a destiny of apathy and emptiness, and even comes to believe that his devotion to Tommie is in her best interest. But when Lamb decides to abduct a willing Tommie for a road trip from Chicago to the Rockies, planning to initiate her into the beauty of the mountain wilderness, they are both shaken in ways neither of them expects.
Lamb is a masterful exploration of the dynamics of love and dependency that challenges the boundaries between adolescence and adulthood, confronts preconceived notions about conventional morality, and exposes mankind's eroded relationship with nature.
There are many elements of that description that caught my attention. But in reading the book, I just found it to be creepy and disturbing. And in reading reviews by people who made it all the way through, they seem evenly split between those who found it to be an amazing (if harrowing) impressive first work for the novelist Bonnie Nadzam, and those who found it as uncomfortable to read as I did.
I gave it a good shot -- I made it through the first third. But then I decided that reading (as I've decided before) shouldn't be an unpleasant experience. I've moved on to another title for now. Now I'm reading "The Breakdown Lane," which deals with a woman suffering the upheaval of her life in her forties. While that can still be heavy subject matter (and a topic I can relate to), the way it's written makes me laugh in places instead of cringe often.
Have you ever quit in the middle of a book, or walked out in the middle of a movie? How bad does a book or movie have to be to do that, throwing away whatever you have already invested in it?
By the way, the book that I would most strongly recommend so far this year is "The Hunger Games," by Suzanne Collins. THAT was worth my time!
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