I’ve read a few books in my life, and I hope to read a few more. But there are many that I’ll never be able to get through, even if I’d really like to. The big irony of recent years is that while book sales are going up, reading is going down. At least, that’s what I’ve read.
So, here is my list of books—some I’ve already bought, some I haven’t—that I probably will never read. They are books I would read if only I were…
- Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. 976 pages. Even Oprah can’t motivate me enough to get through this one.
- The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky. 824 pages, small type. Already tried and failed.
- The Brothers K by David James Duncan. 656 pages. Pathetic, I know.
- Anything by Charles Dickens. Didn’t he get paid by the word?
- God, Freedom, and Evil by Alvin Plantinga. Too philosophically erudite for me.
- Finnegans Wake by James Joyce. Utterly incomprehensible to me of little brain.
- Ecrits: A Selection by Jacques Lacan. Okay, maybe I wouldn’t read this, even if I were smarter. But I tried to read some of it in grad school and understood—oh, I don’t know—maybe two or three words.
- Too many more to mention.
- Howl and Other Poems by Allen Ginsberg. Too visceral, or “emo,” as the kids say.
- Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig. Too laid back.
- On the Road by Jack Kerouac. Too hip for words.
- The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. The smart-aleck kid narrator would have amused the teenage me; sadly, the little brat just irritates me now
- The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective Teens by Sean Covey. Well, maybe not even as a 15-year-old.
- The Giver by Lois Lowry. I might get to this one yet.
Anybody else out there have books you would like to read, if only? Go on, make a list.