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Book Meme, Continued
Jun. 26th, 2018 05:13 pm23. Made to read at school.
Well, a lot of those, actually, but I suspect the question aims at books I probably would not have touched otherwise, so, say, Lord of the Flies is out. (That was the first book-ordered-by-school which I not only read but read immediately because kid!me was stunned, shocked and thrilled; I was just at the right age to recognize a lot of the school story/stranded on an island patterns turned upside down.) Well, there was no book I had actually hated while reading. I mean, I wasn't too keen on Hermann Hesse's Unterm Rad, which is very depressing (student's spirit is systematically crushed by school and society), but also very short. After having to write three essays in a row about Homo Faber by Max Frisch (you might have seen the film version, titled Voyager in English, starring Sam Shephard as the world's least likely native of Switzerland) for my various younger relations (come on, you're the one who is good at literature! etc.), I was heartily sick of the book, but I was okay with it before that.
Oh, I know! Something from my university days. Die Angst des Tormans beim Elfmeter by Peter Handke. (English title: The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick.) Had to read it for a seminar on German literary mystery novels. Hated it on sight, never stopped hating it. Dreary dreary dreary, awful characters, and it put me off Handke long before he started fanboying Slobodan Milosevic.
24. Hooked me into reading.
No such thing. As in: since I had loved the books my parents and grandfather read to me or told me stories from during my early childhood, I started reading as soon as I could. Karl May's Winnetou (first volume) was one of the earliest books I read, sure, but not the only one, and I can't say it made me read more than any of the others, though I certainly imprinted on it in other ways. (Apaches good, white settlers not so much, drunken cowboys are the worst, enemy-to-best-friend stories rock, and so forth.) But given I had enjoyed hearing the stories so much, there was never any question to me as to whether or not I would also enjoy reading them.
( The other days )
Well, a lot of those, actually, but I suspect the question aims at books I probably would not have touched otherwise, so, say, Lord of the Flies is out. (That was the first book-ordered-by-school which I not only read but read immediately because kid!me was stunned, shocked and thrilled; I was just at the right age to recognize a lot of the school story/stranded on an island patterns turned upside down.) Well, there was no book I had actually hated while reading. I mean, I wasn't too keen on Hermann Hesse's Unterm Rad, which is very depressing (student's spirit is systematically crushed by school and society), but also very short. After having to write three essays in a row about Homo Faber by Max Frisch (you might have seen the film version, titled Voyager in English, starring Sam Shephard as the world's least likely native of Switzerland) for my various younger relations (come on, you're the one who is good at literature! etc.), I was heartily sick of the book, but I was okay with it before that.
Oh, I know! Something from my university days. Die Angst des Tormans beim Elfmeter by Peter Handke. (English title: The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick.) Had to read it for a seminar on German literary mystery novels. Hated it on sight, never stopped hating it. Dreary dreary dreary, awful characters, and it put me off Handke long before he started fanboying Slobodan Milosevic.
24. Hooked me into reading.
No such thing. As in: since I had loved the books my parents and grandfather read to me or told me stories from during my early childhood, I started reading as soon as I could. Karl May's Winnetou (first volume) was one of the earliest books I read, sure, but not the only one, and I can't say it made me read more than any of the others, though I certainly imprinted on it in other ways. (Apaches good, white settlers not so much, drunken cowboys are the worst, enemy-to-best-friend stories rock, and so forth.) But given I had enjoyed hearing the stories so much, there was never any question to me as to whether or not I would also enjoy reading them.
( The other days )
