Sunday, February 27, 2011

You are what you read?

I am a book nerd. A huge fucking book worm. The nerdiest fucking nerd nerd that ever nerded with books. (Okay, I know that isn't really a proper sentence.) My only problem is that I have a penchant for seriously depressing, fucked up books. May I present to you the books that I have read in the past two and a half months (I read too much):

  1. American Psycho, Brett Easton Ellis. Man feels invisible. Rapes and kills (not necessarily in that order) a whole bunch of people very violently. Imagine nail guns, cigarette lighters, coat hangers, starved rats and acid. Then you find out he's actually losing his mind and you don't know if he killed them.
  2. Perdido Street Station, China Mieville. Main character manages to rescue lover after thinking she is dead for some time, except he watches her get half her mind sucked out and acts like a child yet she still wants to have sex with him then gets really confused because she is essentially a child. So he's stuck with the shell of the love of his life.
  3. The Death of Bunny Munroe, Nick Cave. Son of the main character walks in on his mother after she's committed suicide, both his grandparents hate him and his father dies in his arms after screwing far too many women while he waits outside in the car. Oh, and the poor kid is sort of going blind and I'm pretty sure he is supposed to have Asperger's.
  4. American Gods, Neil Gaiman. Main character's wife dies the day before the main character gets out of jail. Oh yeah, and that's just the first chapter.
  5. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen. Father loses his mind and thinks his poo is talking to him. Mother is obsessed with Christmas and has bizarre hang ups. Daughter breaks up her boss' marriage by sleeping with his wife after turning down his advances even though she is attracted to him and gets fired. Eldest son is super-depressed and plays mind games with his bitch-of-a-wife. Youngest son is seriously in debt after getting fired for sleeping with a student and gets mixed up with fraud in Lithuania.
  6. High Fidelity, Nick Hornby. Main character cheats on his girlfriend while she is (not to his knowledge) pregnant so she gets an abortion. Then she cheats on him. Then they get back together and bicker a lot.
These books are all very excellent. But very depressing. And looking back at most of the books we covered in English literature (Kafka, Goodnight Mister Tom, When Things Fall Apart), it would almost appear that the more depressing the book, the better it is.

I think I tried to read The Devil Wears Prada after a heavy dose of Byron - thought it might be the equivalent of watching trashy television when you don't want to think - but I couldn't make myself do it. Two chapters of Weisberger and I was done.

Can someone please point me in the direction of some good books that don't make me want to jump off a bridge post-reading?

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