On to the next one!
I’m reading You Can’t Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe, ©1940, and I’m at that horrible point where I’m not really enjoying it anymore, but I’ve invested so much time I hate to walk away without finishing it.
He writes beautifully. The problem is that he hates everybody.
I’m 165 pages in to a 744 page novel, and so far he’s expressed specific disdain for Negroes, Italians, Irish, Jews, and Orientals. He doesn’t like people from small towns, nor people from big cities; he doesn’t like the working class, nor the leisure class; he doesn’t like evil people, nor the pious. He doesn’t mind women, per se, but finds them frivolous.
Actually… I think I’ve just decided what I’m going to do.