Books you can’t put down
I’d never heard of Mockingjay when my Twitter page exploded about its upcoming release last week. I follow mostly writers and publishers, to be sure, but the surge of popularity coupled with my complete ignorance left me feeling like the odd one out—like the only one who didn’t know what a Tamagotchi was while the rest of the school fed and played with their virtual pets. (Tangent: There’s probably a better simile to be had there, but do you remember those?!) For those that don’t know, I will share my new found knowledge: Mockingjay is the final book in The Hunger Games Trilogy, which is another one of those young adult series that has found just as many—if not more—adult readers—than child ones.
Had you mentioned a book called The Hunger Games to me I would have said, “Yeah, I think I’ve heard of it, maybe,” but I couldn’t have told you the first thing about it. But on Thursday, despite my lingering state of unemployment, I bought a copy. Then I came home, turned to page one, and started reading. Three-and-a-half hours (and one nasty migraine) later, after telling myself twenty times I would read just one more chapter, it was one thirty in the morning and I had just finished the book.
I don’t do this very often. I’m much more likely to leave books half finished, even books I enjoy. This means that I often have to read the beginnings of books two or three times before I get to the end just so that I can keep up with the plot. But this is the second time this year I’ve sat and read completely uninterrupted, only pausing long enough to shift positions on the couch. The other was The Virgin Suicides, and though it was on my thesis list, the one-sitting read was not the result of a looming deadline but rather because I simply did not want to put it down.
On the surface, these books don’t have that much in common. One is accepted reading in literary circles, the other might be met with raised eyebrows or scorn (I’ve certainly met with such attitudes). One can be purchased at school book fairs while you would be hard pressed to find the other at any middle or elementary school library. But still, there are similarities. First, both employ difficult POVs. Suicides uses a third person plural while Hunger uses a first person present, and I would argue that both uses are instrumental to the story, and in Hunger especially, the urgency of the voice adds momentum to the story. Second, in both stories you know from the beginning what the most basic ending of the story will be: whether or not the main character(s) will die. The questions then become how the characters will accomplish their ultimate fates and what will happen as a result—much more interesting questions.
So I ask you: What was the last book you read in one sitting, and what pulled you through?
I just discovered Gail Carriger’s “The Parasol Protectorate” Steampunk series and read the first two books in one sitting, but two separate ones. What pulled me through were fantastic writing including: quirky and strong characters, great voice and language,a very intersting world, and a great plot. Here’s the blurb from the back of the first book “Soulless.”
“Alexia Tarabotti is laboring under a great many social tribulations. First, she has no soul. Second, she’s a spinster whose father is both Italian and dead. Third, she was rudely attacked by a vampire, breaking all standards of social etiquette.
Where to go from there? From bad to worse apparently, for Alexia accidentally kills the vampire–and then the appalling Lord Maccon (loud, messy, gorgeous, and werewolf) is sent by Queen Victoria to investigate.”
This has actually never happened to me. I keep wanting to feel like that, but the closest I’ve ever gotten is with my two Raymonds: Carver and Chandler.
Actually, I read most of Hempel’s collected stories in one sitting. (A very long sitting.) And I did read Bender’s Flammable Skirt in one sit-down, though not because I couldn’t put it down. Just because it was better than anything else I had to do. Which I guess is just as good.
I do this all the time actually, most often with genre fiction, though. It’s true the basic ending elements are often given, but sometimes that adds to the anticipation; You know what’s going to happen and you just want that one more puzzle piece to fall, that last little bit of validation before you put the book down. Next thing you know there’s only a couple chapters left so you might as well finish. Mostly, for the good books, I just sink in till I don’t even realize I’m turning pages. Some literary fiction keeps you deliberately on the surface to keep you considering everything. Genres rarely have that qualm, even the deep ones are often meant more to be examined as a whole after rather than processed throughout. I guess its like drinking for the buzz or drinking cause you like the taste- I like a mix of both.