Aug
3
The Bluest Eye.
August 3, 2008 |
I actually finished Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye late last night, but rather than write about it then I thought I’d wait for today. And then I forgot, so it’s a little late tonight, too. But oh well.
I told a good friend that I’d read and liked it, and she was a little startled. She had read it at 17 and “violently disliked it,” and knew several others who had similar reactions. I am pretty sure one of the other English classes read it my freshman year at high school and responded similarly as well. I don’t really get why, but I can guess. It took me a long time to loosen up to assigned reading and not resent those books, and it’s much easier to take frustrations out on an assigned book than one you read for pleasure. That said, I’d read four of Morrison’s other novels already and knew this was her first. In some ways I sort of felt that the book gained its footing as it went along, but some of that could have been me, since these days I’ve been reading most often just before bed. I warmed up more and more to it as I went along, which was nice. And the moment I finished I wanted to reread it, which–I was about to type “which is what happened with Paradise,” but although it happened most fiercely with Paradise, that’s my typical reaction to finishing one of her books (although thus far I’ve only read Paradise, Jazz,, Song of Solomon, The Bluest Eye and Sula). And as a slight tangent, I’m going to put in one more plug for Paradise, which made strange and explosive things happen in my head.
I think I’ve sort of burnt myself out on reading, though, after this summer. Which is depressing, because mostly what I want to be doing is reading–I have so many books piled around the place which are full of amazing things I haven’t yet read. But I’m putting into action a self-imposed block on starting anything long for the next couple days. Instead I’m going to go to short stories when I want to read, because up next on my list is Dante, and I really don’t want to do him a disservice by reading him poorly. It should be fine; I have plenty of other things to do, like baking, watching movies, and oh yes, packing.
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