Is it okay to hate a book...ever?

Discussion time! I have a few questions for you. Answer if you will...

When is it okay to hate a book? And what does saying that mean really? Do you need permission to hate a book? Do you have the right to hate a book? Why do other people get upset when you hate a book that they love? Do you get upset when a book you love is hated by someone else? Do you expect everyone to agree with you all the time when it comes to books? To love what you love, to hate what you hate, to be bored when you're bored? Is it more acceptable to talk about a book you love, than a book you hated? Aren't both love and hate just opinions--subjective opinions? Does a reader saying that he/she hates a book reflect more on them--their response, their opinion, their experience--or on the book itself? Does one person hating a book mean its a bad book? What if there are twenty thousand people that hate a book? Is it bad then? What if more people love a book than hate it, is it a good book? What makes a bad book, bad? What makes a good book, good? If every "good" book has been hated by some reader, somewhere, does that make it any less "good"?

Okay, that was more than a few questions for you. I admit.

Reading is subjective. Rule number one. Consider it the prime directive. It will always be subjective. This is more good news than bad news. That means that while not every book will be unanimously beloved, adored, and praised, it means the opposite is true as well. It would be rare--but not impossible I suppose--for one book to be unanimously hated, abhorred, trashed and attacked. Every single book that has ever been published--will ever be published--will meet with a variety of responses: some will love it (some might even love, love, love it), some will like it, some will just give it a quick shrug of the shoulders, some will dislike it, some will hate it, some will get angry about it. That's a fact of life. I sincerely believe that every book out there has within it the opportunity to become someone's favorite book. That would be my rule number two. Every single book (or 98% of them at least) has this potential to become "the book" that one amazing life-changing book that flips a switch--if you will--and makes a person love reading. Every book has the potential to wow a reader. But it's also true that a person could read hundreds of books but still have only a fraction of them register as "favorites" or "must-reads."

What do I think it means to hate a book? Keeping in mind that reading is subjective, it means simply this: this particular book at this particular time is not for me. It doesn't mean that I think that a particular book couldn't be, wouldn't be, shouldn't be right for someone else. It doesn't even mean that the book couldn't work for me at another time. I could call to mind at least half a dozen books that I "hated" at one time just to do a complete turnaround and love at another point in time. Octavian Nothing, volume one. Frankenstein. Jane Eyre. The True Meaning of Smek Day. Silas Marner. Just to name a few. I'm sure I could think of more if I sat down long enough. The point is this, opinions change. Let's make that rule number three. A book you once hated could at some point along the way become a book you love. And a book you once loved, you could end up at some point not loving. I don't know if you could ever truly hate a book you once loved. But your opinions can definitely change over time. You can fall out of love with a book. A book that satisfied your needs as an 8 year old may not be as satisfying when you're 40.

Each experience reading a book is different. You cannot make someone have the exact same experience, same reaction, same response, same feeling as you did. No matter how much you want to believe that every single person should feel the exact same way about a book, it just isn't so. There are many people out there. In the blogging community, it's typical to find some that agree with you on some books--but never on every single book you've ever read. There are bound to be differences show up sooner or later. And the sooner you realize that it's okay--more than okay--to have different opinions on such matters, the happier you'll be.

Every opinion of a book is valid. It may not be an opinion you share, that you endorse. You may see things completely differently. But it's an opinion all the same.

Book discussions are great. And a large part of the reason book discussions are great is because of the diversity of opinions expressed. How boring life would be if every single person shared the exact same thoughts all the time. Discussing books with others is fun because you can see things from multiple perspectives. You can see how and why the other person feels the way he/she does. They might bring up a few good points in their discussion. You might come to an understanding and appreciation of your differences. It's good to feel heard, to feel validated. You may never see the book exactly the same. But that's okay.

I'm a big believer in the Readers Bill of Rights...the only thing which I wish it mentioned--and I think it's certainly implied--is the right to have your own opinion on a book. (Likewise, your opinion is never the "only" opinion of a book. But it is the only one you have to live by. So if you've discovered you don't like an author, you shouldn't keep forcing yourself to try over and over again (Dickens for me, cough cough) That doesn't mean you shouldn't ever try again. But be reasonable about it! If you didn't like it last week, chances are you won't like it this week. But give it a year and who knows?) You don't have to like a book because you're told it's good. No one can make you like a book. They can try. But it will only make you hate it more. You can make a person read--in a way--but you can't make them enjoy it.No one should be told how to feel about a book.

Readers' Bill of Rights (Daniel Pennac)

1. The Right to Not Read
2. The Right to Skip Pages
3. The Right to Not Finish
4. The Right to Reread
5. The Right To Read Anything
6. The Right to Escapism
7. The Right to Read Anywhere
8. The Right to Browse
9. The Right to Read Out Loud
10. The Right to Not Defend Your Tastes

That being said, I think I'm about to abandon Dune because it is just not working for me at all.

© Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews
If you're reading this post on another site, or another feed, the content has been stolen.

More thoughts on Camilla and Classics in general...

I don't know if anyone is interested in reading my further thoughts on Camilla, a novel by Fanny Burney, which I reviewed just a few hours ago. But it's still on my mind.

And I thought I'd approach it a bit broader, and possibly open it up for discussion about classics in general.

Can you compare classics with modern literature? Modern books? Meaning, is it fair to hold classics up to the same standards and judgments as modern literature? Or are classics in a field, a category all by themselves. If classics are in a field by themselves, a field that is ever-incorporating new titles as decades go by, and eliminating other titles that have fallen out of favor because no one is willing or able to 'prove' their relevance to today's readers, what should that standard be?

Should a classic be as pleasurable, as entertaining, as enjoyable as other types of books? If it doesn't, does that mean it's not as 'good' a book? Does a book have to be a page-turner to keep you reading? Can a book be 'good' and fail to keep your interest at times?

Reading is subjective of course. Interests vary from person to person. And even just in one person, interests change from month to month or year to year. The mood and timing has to be just right, there has to be a certain chemistry for a reader to connect with a book.

I'm all for books staying in print and staying available in some shape or form. I was very happy that Camilla was a book-book. I didn't want the hassle of reading the book in its entirety as an e-book or online. I wouldn't have done it. Couldn't have done it. So I'm all for having these obscure little books stay in print. They're not obscure to some people, but for the general hypothetical readership they are obscure. It's only if you've immersed yourself in literature--whether on your own or in a classroom setting--that you come to be on familiar terms with other writers. The more you read, the more aware you become of other books, other authors you might enjoy as well.

I read Camilla for two reasons really. One, I had read Evelina back in college and found it completely wonderfully delightful. And two, Camilla is one of the books mentioned in Northanger Abbey. I know that Jane Austen was a fan of Fanny Burney. So many of the women writers of the day were fans of Fanny Burney and Ann Radcliffe. They looked to women who had gone before, led the way.

Camilla, according to what I've read, was a HUGE HUGE hit when it was published. It was popular in the 19th century. Which shows me that it is taste and expectations that have changed through the centuries. Books are always always a product of their time. For the original audience, Camilla and Edgar and the like were the best of the best. For modern readers, however, I doubt people would be as quickly impressed. For one, I don't think people have the patience to deal with Edgar. They don't have the stamina to watch Camilla exclaim away page after page.

With the internet, with television, with movies, with video games, how is a book that is over 950 pages going to compete???

Camilla is a book that requires time, energy, commitment, and patience. You've got to think of it as an experience. A journey. A long journey. You've got to be in it for the journey. If you think of it as what is the quickest way to get from point a to point b, Camilla will frustrate you to no end. Camilla is in some ways like playing Chutes and Ladders. Sometimes you move up, but a lot of times you go sliding back down and you're practically back where you started. Every time the plot advances where it looks like there might be resolutions in sight, you go hurdling back down and everything is a tangled mess again.

Is it a bad thing or a good thing for a book to be complex, challenging, requiring diligence and patience? Do you have to have immediate satisfaction to keep reading? Do you have to approach it with the what's-in-it-for-me attitude?

I stuck with Camilla obviously. It was both frustrating but enjoyable at the same time. Eugenia was probably my favorite. But Camilla wasn't a bad heroine. I just kept wanting to shout at her. In the words of Super Grover's Super Mommy: DON'T DO IT!

Reading Camilla is like watching a soap opera. Every chapter, or more likely every few chapters, there would be a rising climax. You'd reach the point where you'd think SOMETHING would happen to further the plot, to move the action along, to change the course of the character's lives. But a good majority of time, those all fizzle out. The big reveal doesn't happen. The exciting scene you thought would happen, just doesn't. Nothing comes of it. Or if something does come of it, it's not the something you would have wanted. The story line goes a way you wouldn't choose. The writer takes it in a direction you really didn't want it to go. And you get frustrated.

Question About Gender Roles...

Lectitans question of the week is a very interesting one: In what ways do children's and young adult novels shape readers' notions of gender roles? How can and do they present more options, especially to girl readers, for how to spend a life? They go on to add, "I'm looking here for titles, trends, and examples of literature where girls get to choose who they are going to be, or that explore when and why they don't get to choose who they are going to be" and "What has shaped the women we are now, and what will shape the girls of the future? What role does children's and young adult literature play in affecting boys' and men's views of women? How can we show girls the myriad of possibilities open to them without coloring their view of which possibilities are best?"

The questions are thought-provoking, but the answers aren't always easy to put into words. Which female characters have influenced me personally? I'd have to say LauraIngalls Wilder and Anne Shirley. The Little House books were a big part of my life in elementary school. I wanted to be Laura Ingalls Wilder. I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to be a wife. I wanted to be a mother. I wanted to be a writer. I didn't just want one of those roles, I wanted them all. In the books, Laura didn't want to be a teacher. Not really. She took on that role out of necessity. It's been a while since I've read the books, so someone correct me if I'm wrong, but I think Mary was the one who wanted to teach. That teaching was something Laura did because the family needed money. She was also in part living Mary's dreams for her. Just like she was always Mary's eyes. How she had to soak up so much more of life so she could share with her sister the beauty and depth of the world. But the tv show, teaching was her dream. It was something she was passionate about. So I'm not sure which influenced me more--the books or the show--but Laura Ingalls Wilder was definitely a part of my life. Anne Shirley was another character that made a big impact on me. Again, she wanted more out of life. Here was a girl with a big mouth. She had thoughts. She had opinions. She was so lovably stubborn. She was curious. She was spirited. She was adventurous. She was just so unique. And like Laura Ingalls Wilder...there was an emphasis on teaching and writing. (Although I can't remember if the movies added the emphasis on writing, or if it is in the books as well. If I'm getting it wrong, please let me know.) The traditional roles were there in the later books--she was a wife and mother--but she never quite outgrew her personality. She controlled her temper better, but she never lost herself either. Another female character that I think has in one way or other shaped the culture is Scarlett O'Hara. In some ways, it is easy to see Scarlett as a girl who definitely wanted society to change. She hated the fact that society dictated what women could or could not do. She was smart. She was good at numbers. She was good at business. She wanted a career. She didn't want to be a traditional homemaker. She didn't want a passel of brats to take care of. She didn't have a nurturing bone in her body. So while she liked to put on the mask of feminitity and helplessness to have men fall all over her, she was very independant, very capable. She knew how to work a room to her advantage. She knew how to manipulate both men and women to get what she wanted. She was in no way admirable. She was full of flaws. But there is a certain spirit about her that is appealing.

I think children's literature is important. I think it has come a long way from where it started. Elsie Dinsmore? Yuck. I'd take Ramona, Junie B. or Clementine any day. It would be very interesting to read a book or two from each decade (beginning in the nineteenth century) to see what changes have occurred. I think there have always been a few role models like Jo March that do stick out from the norm.

One of my recent favorite books with a strong heroine is NOBODY'S PRINCESS by Esther Friesner. Runaway Princess by Kate Coombs is another. Enjoyed Just Ella by Margaret Peterson Haddix. I'm sure I could think of plenty if I really sat down and thought about it.

As far as gender roles go, the thing that annoys me most about some fiction (and about some people in real life) is the portrayal of young teen girls that are so desperately seeking a boyfriend that that is the only way they define themselves. They define their worth by their status. If a boy likes me, I must be special. If I don't have a boyfriend, there must be something wrong with me. So they are always in-between relationships. It's never just okay to be by themselves. They have this need to be part of a couple at all times. To feel inadequate otherwise. Not a good picture, in my opinion. You have to know yourself; you have to love yourself; and you can never define yourself solely in terms of another person.

Historical Fiction

This week Lectitans is asking readers a very important question: "What is the recipe of good historical fiction?" Since historical fiction borders on an obsessive passion of mine, I thought I'd answer on my own blog.

I think there are many elements that make up good historical fiction. One of the signs--or marks--for me is that a writer turns a previously "boring" or "uninteresting" topic and spins it into a book that I cannot--will not--put down. For example, I had zero interest in reading any literature--fiction, nonfiction, poetry, whatever--about the Erie canal. No interest. Yet, I could not put Jim Murphy's Desperate Journey down. I was absolutely hooked. Why? Because of the writing. Strong writing--whether it is characters, plot, style, language, whatever--has the power to draw you into any story regardless of the topic or any prior interest. Which brings me to another very important element: characterization. The magic--and it's pure magic--of the Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder is in the characterization. A writer needs to make the characters come alive for the readers. Carolyn Meyer is another great example. I am absolutely in love with her Royal Tudors series because she makes these historical figures into living characters that you can relate to...understand. I don't know how she weaves her magic, but I see it. How else can you explain how both Elizabeth and Mary can be presented as sympathetic characters in her books? Bloody Mary has never been high on my list of characters I'd want to meet...but yet Carolyn Meyer presents her as a very human, very vulnerable, very sympathetic character. With Beware, Princess Elizabeth and Mary, Bloody Mary she could be talking about any broken family where the parents are separated or divorced. She could be talking about ANY dysfunctional family. So I think it's key for writers to present characters that are human. In other words, readers need to be able to say, "Oh, they once lived and loved and had the same fears and hopes that I do." Good historical fiction makes the characters, the period, the culture come alive. When you forget the stale facts and statistics and the 'boring' things you have to memorize in school...and get drawn into the story...the author has done something right. Some of my recent favorites include Black Duck by Janet Taylor Lisle, Bread and Roses, Too by Katherine Paterson, and Crooked River by Shelley Pearsall.