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taken from goodreads.com |
With another book completed on my
2015 reading goals list, I have to admit I'm rethinking my approach to reading entirely. But more on that in a minute. First, let's talk about this book:
Nick Hornby's
A Long Way Down is the story of four complete strangers who meet each other on New Year's Eve at the top of the same building that they were all intending to jump off of. They chat, they decide to come down off of the building together, and they make a pact to wait until Valentine's Day to make any kind of decision. Thus forms a super weird, super unlikely group of friends that gets together for coffee, for pick-me-up chats, and even once for a vacation.
Just like lots of the books I've read recently, I added this book to my ever-growing list of books to read because it was going to be made into a movie and I thought the plot sounded really promising (also, Aaron Paul is in the movie version, and I am just crazy about Aaron Paul). I thought it sounded like a super predictable plot, but a predictable plot that I could wrap my heart around: four strangers stop each other from committing suicide, and form an unlikely but strong bond that helps them heal from all their respective problems and find a new appreciation for life. That sounded like a great book to me. Except, spoilers ahead, that's not really what happens. They do form a little bond, but they're all so different that they actually kind of hate each other and continue to do so through the end. They do help each other find a new appreciation for life, sort of, but...honestly they're all still pretty miserable, grumpy people in the end. They're not jumping off the building, (yay) but they're not happy. They're not excited about grabbing life by the horns. They're not made whole by a newly formed love for the family and friends in their life, therefore giving them reasons to live. They're still alive, but when they talk about why they're not jumping, none of them really have reasons.
And all of that, I've got to be honest, makes me a little nuts. Because yeah, it's probably more realistic, and it's definitely less predictable, but at some point I want to feel like I'm getting something out of the books I'm spending my time reading. I don't mind predictable and unrealistic every once in a while if it means it's not a super depressing bummer. I don't mind sappy and romantic and feel-good if it means I get to avoid a thousand f-words and feeling incredibly sad about the hopelessness of fictional characters. And after all of that, I didn't even really enjoy the book. I don't get too bothered by language and hopelessness and craziness in books if I enjoy them, but there have been so many books that I've chosen to read recently because they were on some Buzzfeed list and I don't even like them. Meanwhile, I've got a lot of books staring me in the face that I can't wait to read, and I'm going to read them. Thanks for the suggestions, pop-culture, but I'm gonna do my own thing for a while.
And by the way, the
trailer for the movie (which I'll still watch because, Aaron Paul) looks like exactly what I thought the book was going to be. So they either rewrote the plot for the movie, or they're big fat liars just like whoever wrote the synopsis for the book on the internet.
Here's where I stand on my 2015 reading goals list:
- Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand
- Monster, by Walter Dean Myers
- Dash and Lily's Book of Dares, by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan
- The Rosie Project, by Graeme Simsion
- Eleanor and Park, by Rainbow Rowell
- Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?, by Mindy Kaling
- Yes Please, by Amy Poehler
A Long Way Down, by Nick Hornby
- This is Where I Leave You, by Jonathan Tropper
- Wild, by Cheryl Strayed
- Serena, by Ron Rash
- Prisoner of Azkaban, by J.K. Rowling
- Goblet of Fire, by J.K. Rowling
- Order of the Phoenix, by J.K. Rowling
- Half Blood Prince, by J.K. Rowling
- Deathly Hallows, by J.K. Rowling
Only two left - both of which I'm genuinely excited about - and then we're starting over with a whole new list, most of which are getting pulled straight off my own bookshelves.