Perhaps that was disrespectful as the concepts I managed to glean from those pages were that the main character (Aschenbach) in this novella spent his entire life searching for honor as a writer and, that, uh, heroes are born of weakness? Yeah, I've got nothing. All I know is that it seemed a bit meta, since it could easily be Thomas Mann's opinions superimposed on Aschenbach's opinions, and that it introduced a whole bunch of ideas about youth and passion and art that I don't want to think about but will have to contemplate at some point anyway. Once I figure out what Mann was saying.
This endeavor to finish my English work before I go to sleep (somewhat of a lofty goal, but I figure if I don't do it now I'll end up dragging it out over the next week and I got shit to do) has left me thinking about how difficult it is to dislike a book deemed "classic" or "masterful." (I s'pose the same goes for other forms or art, but as I know little to nothing about paintings and films, I usually limit my opinions to "pretty," "entertaining," or "stupid" anyway.) In order to announce your distaste for such a novel, you'd better have several essays written on why you didn't like it, or else you'll get accused of "not appreciating" or, more annoyingly, "not understanding" the text.
I don't mean to nullify the work that English professors around the globe have spent hours on, proving all the ways that various books are (all, simultaneously, somehow) the most brilliant things in the history of the world, but just because I haven't dedicated years of my life to analyzing English literature doesn't mean that my opinions are unwarranted. For example, last year I had to read Heart of Darkness. I despised it. It's one of those books that I can appreciate as having historical significance; for example, it was relatively not-racist (at least railing against colonialism) for the late 19th/early 20 centuries and it was apparently one of the first novels of its style (the name of which I forget and, conveniently, don't really care about). These are things that I can objectively say are merits of the book. Beyond that, however, I don't think it's well written (it's far too dense, for one thing), I find the subject boring (which admittedly is not the author's fault), all of its 'morals' or 'themes' are ones which, living in 21st century America, I have already read in countless (more enjoyable) other books. It's not at all a plot or character-driven novel and I don't believe its themes or writing validate that decision. There are certainly individual sentences that are well crafted, but altogether I don't think it's a good book. And people really get super indignant about that.
I guess I just want to say that we're all entitled to our opinions, and don't be dick about defending your favorite things. Also, as whoever wrote that song said, "it's okay to not like things but don't be a dick about it," which really are quite good words to live by.
Anyways, I've 4/5 more of this story to read (suffer through? That may be premature; it's got 58 more pages to capture my attention), so laters!
2 comments:
"the name of which I forget and, conveniently, don't really care about" has to be my favourite Vita quote ever (that I remember.)
Stay gold, my friend.
That song, whomever it may be by, should be required listening in life and especially before one uses the internet.
That quote is also indeed pretty much the best ever (in recent memory).
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