Somehow in life I've ended up with a group of highly intelligent, thoughtfully well informed friends. Trust me, this is not a "like attracts like"scenario. I find the news depressing and politics infuriating. However, I'm also aware it's important I'm mindful of, and knowledgable about, both. Thanks to a few excellent online newsletters and, if I don't get cocky, I come across reasonably informed on current events and politics.
The one area I've always failed in though is literature.
Ironically I'm a literature major. I read, and appreciated, many of the greats in college. That was it though. When I graduated I swore I would never read another depressing, cynical, heart wrenching, vodka inducing story again. And I haven't.
I have never read a book that made it onto NPR, a famous talk show or New York Times reading list. Which is fine by me. When everyone else was discussing Life of Pi or The Sixth Extinction I happily congratulated myself on, yet again, avoiding a depressing couple of evenings. Tuppence Beresford and Ms Fisher would never lead me so astray.
Lately though I've begun to wonder if I shouldn't at least make an effort to find well written and informative books I can enjoy. With that in mind I followed up on a suggestion from my father-in-law to read So We Read On by Maureen Corrigan, a critique of Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. Out of all my reading in high school and college The Great Gatsby had been my favorite of the Paxil supporting stories. (For those of you who find it uplifting, you are a better person than I am.)
So yay for me, I'm half way through and may even finish it. In fact, last night I had opportunity to bring my reading up in conversation and I have to admit, it felt pretty good.
Now I just have to keep track of who I've already mentioned it to...
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