Musings

I need to preface this by admitting my bias.  I do not like reading spiritual fiction and/or Christian fiction.  I like reading religious history, but not fiction.  That being said, I made the mistake of reading the afterword by the author of this book and now I'm having problems with the entire story.  If I had not read the afterword in which the author makes it perfectly clear she's a Christian, would I have ever picked out Christian theology in the factions (especially Abnegation)?  I find it ironic that Abnegation and Erudition are the two that start the war.  I'm getting too wrapped up in authorial intent here and have lost a little bit of enjoyment of the book.  I wish I could un-read that.  I reread Divergent in anticipation of the last in the series, so I'm hoping I can overcome my bias and enjoy the books for what they are-darn good storytelling.

I will read just about anything by Bill Bryson.  Even something as seemingly overdone as a book on American history. 

Things of note:

*His writing style is so engaging.  I'm not sure how he does this time and again, but I'm never bored (even though the topic didn't really engage me to begin with and I may have glazed over at times when he started to get into baseball statistics).

*I don't think I knew Charles Lindbergh was an anti-Semite.  

I think I've forgotten what other notable items I may have wanted to bring up.  Nevertheless, I enjoyed this immensely.  I would recommend this to anyone who likes a well-written narrative nonfiction historical snapshot.

I'm still trying to think of what I should say about this book.  Reading Palahnuik is rather a crap shoot for me-either he's very enjoyable, or I'm incredibly bored.  I am vacillating between the two at the moment with regards to this book. 

Some of the things I found myself questioning made me wonder about my own sanity.  For instance, can you really chew through your own intestines without dying?  Is that possible?  And have I ever read a book with characters whom I was hoping would ALL be dead by the end of the book?

I was really reminded of Boccacio's "The Decameron" in the style of story telling, in a much more screwed up sense.

I guess another dilemma I had with this book was, why?  What is the purpose in writing something this absolutely disturbing?  

"That's how a scary story works.  It echoes some ancient fear.  It recreates some forgotten terror.  Something we'd like to think we've grown beyond.  But it can still scare us to tears.  It's something you'd hoped was healed." (pg. 343). Perhaps that explains it.  

There are so many random thoughts about this book running through my brain.