The Goldfinch

 There's something freeing about starting out the year with a complete and abject failure. Nowhere to go from here but up. Hopefully.

Last year I read every book my book club picked. This was actually the first year I accomplished this feat, despite being the founder and default leader of the book club. But for one reason or another (new babies, my husband's death) I always ended up missing a few meetings. I even missed one meeting in 2021, because my family was under a covid quarantine. But I read every book! It was actually fairly easy.

For our first book of 2022, we picked The Goldfinch. It's massive, a real door stopper of a book. But the length didn't frighten me. I routinely read big books (500+ pages) and usually get in at least one 1000+ page book a year. So I dove in with excellent intentions. And then I had a completely novel experience.

Any time I was actively reading The Goldfinch I enjoyed it. It was entertaining, if a bit overly descriptive. But then I'd put it down, and it would completely leave my mind. Usually when I'm reading a book, it's always there in my head, coloring my view of the world for the days or weeks I'm engaging with it. I turn it over in my mind, thinking about characters and settings and trying to work out foreshadowing. With The Goldfinch there was nothing. It so completely left my mind that I kept picking up other books and reading them instead.

By the time I was a third of the way through the book, I decided to give up. I'd read six other books, and every one of them was more interesting. Even the ones I didn't particularly like at least had something about them that I didn't like.

So I'm starting the year by attending a book club for which I didn't even attempt to finish the book, a first for me. It'll be interesting. At least one person says this is her favorite book of all time. I'm interested to see what she has to say about it. I can't believe we had such extremely different experiences of the same book. But then again, that's part of the magic of books. Not every book is for everyone, but every book has it's reader.

And for all my indifference to this book, it at least gave me something to write about again. After abandoning this blog for nearly a year, I'm hoping to find the time to get back into it. I'm throwing out the back list of unreviewed books (who needs that kind of pressure?) and starting fresh with what I read (or didn't read) this year. Wish me luck.

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