Steinbeck, Kerouac and King
I know that sounds like a law firm, but no. They are the authors from whom I’ve read today. I often find myself reading multiple books at a time. I’ve been reading War and Peace for over a year now. Sometimes I’ll go a month without picking it up. It’s not that I don’t like; I imagine myself sipping it like a fine wine. Dean Koontz, however, is my Coca-Cola. In-between sips of Tolstoy, I know I can always pick up something of his and gulp it down, enjoying every minute.
I’ve been reading Jack Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums on and off for about a month now. Today I decided to buckle down and finish it. People have asked me, “The Dharma Bums? What’s that about? Do you like it?” and the best answer I can give is, “It really doesn’t lend itself to those kinds of questions.” What it does is make me want to hitchhike across the country and spend the summer on Desolation Peak. Or at the very least to someday read Desolation Angels, which elaborates on Kerouac’s time there. I guess if I had to take something away from it, I would say that lots of things we see as important really aren’t.
Leaving Jack to rejoin the world, I picked up Of Mice and Men for the first time. I really don’t know that much about literature, so I’m not going to pretend by talking at length about it. I mean, yeah, I read a lot, but I breath a lot too, and I still don’t understand how my lungs work. I just know that it was good. Parts of it reminded me of The Green Mile – at least the movie. I haven’t read the book. And that brings us to King.
I haven’t read much Stephen King. I’ve actually seen more movies of his books than books. And those usually don’t turn out so well. The Langoliers anyone? Maybe the book is great, but I don’t even want to risk a repeat of that movie. So after Steinbeck today, I picked up King’s Lisley’s Story. It’s looking good so far.
Well they’re putting chairs up on tables at the coffee ship I’m sitting in. I think that means I should leave.