inauguration day

The other day I was being given a ride somewhere by a long-suffering friend of mine (I could be the Walrus, I'd still have to bum rides off my friends) when I saw a college youth walking down the sidewalk, and he was reading while he walked, reading with a near-total absorption that made me wonder how he was avoiding other pedestrians and fire hydrants and the like (the long-suffering friend I was with manages to collide with things even when he's specifically on the watch for them, so I guess it takes all types).

The book he was reading? 'The Alchemist.'

So yes, what I'm saying is, the Proustian tipping point that finally prompted me to start my very own blog was the sight of a college youth absorbed in reading a steaming little pile of crap.

As I was musing on the little spurt of frustration I experienced at this sight, it occurred to me how often it happens. I live in a college town full of educated people, readers, and yet, hardly a day goes by when I don't see somebody reading crap. Part of this is surely willful - people who've decided that Marquez, for instance, is actually good. But surely also a great deal of it can be chalked up to simple ignorance, to people not knowing what's good, not knowing - and never having been shown - where to go for good stuff. Sometimes it's a cherished teacher; sometimes it's the heaven-blessed luck of the autodidact; sometimes it's a process of mental brachiation, going from book to book like a gibbon goes from tree to tree - but no matter what it is, you're lucky, in this life, if it happens to you. And if it doesn't, you're left like that poor schlub on the sidewalk, wasting your precious, brutally-limited reading time on crap.

So I've decided to add my voice to the distressingly-termed blogoverse, in an attempt to give all you readers out there another source - the best source - for book-chat.

The basics, before we progress much further:

1. Yes, I've read more than you have. A lot more.

2. No, literary taste isn't 'personal' ... if I call something crap, it's because it is crap, not because I think it is. Obviously, obviously, obviously, literature has objective standards of quality - no artistic endeavor (indeed, no endeavor of any kind) gets a free pass. If I pointed to a wobbly table and said, 'that thing is poorly made,' would you say 'well, in your opinion'? Hardly.

3. I'm on your side. Despite the fact that I probably hate nine-tenths of what you like, my ultimate goal - well, in addition to venting, which is always nice - is to add to your reading enjoyment. All I require from you is that you surrender your free will and take my word as law - and really, is that so hard? Are you really that attached to your free will? I didn't think so.

So let's begin our journey! A journey in the best sense of the word - i.e. there'll be lots and lots of digressions, and we'll never actually arrive at our destination.

Tomorrow: what I mean by 'crap.'