On To The Next

So I've never read Catch-22. I'm not sure how, except I know that my high school had the kind of worldly approach to literature that had me analyzing obscure African books without ever having picked up Animal Farm (no seriously, I've never read Animal Farm either. I know!)

So considering my success over the last two weeks, I've decided it's time to challenge myself. Which isn't to say that Catch-22 is particularly difficult as a book, or burdensome to get through. In truth, of the 50-odd pages I've read so far, it's fairly hilarious. But this will be my longest book to date, more than 450 pages, and I don't mean that senior-citizen-size font you sometimes see in modern paperbacks. This is legit. I've got my work cut out for me.

Truth is, there are plenty of literary classics, modern or otherwise, that I've never actually gotten around to reading, many of which I want to: The Scarlett Letter, Gravity's Rainbow, On The Road, pretty much everything Dickens has ever written outside of A Tale of Two Cities. So perhaps, whenever I'm feeling particularly ambitious, I'll take a week out--like this one--to tackle the kind of book you can typically find on the Summer Reading table at Barnes & Noble (speaking of which, am I the only for whom this table is a source of constant guilt?)

So if you've got suggestions, which is to say, if there's some book you've always "wanted" to read but fear is in truth much more boring than its reputation suggests (worry not, I feel this way about both The Great Gatsby and Catcher in the Rye), well, here's your chance to foist it on me, an unsuspecting third party, who will not only have to finish it, but in a week no less.

Bring it on. All two of you.