A Suitable Boy, by Vikram Seth.A little back story. I was in Barnes and Noble a year or so back and was perusing the staff favorites. Someone had put out this behemoth of a book called A Suitable Boy and just went on and on and on about how good it was. The thing that stood out to me the most was its sheer size - it was 1400 pages long. Epically long books can be a life-changing experience, like when I read Les Miserables in high school. You get immersed, you get attached, you miss it when it's gone - you know the drill. I made a mental note to read A Suitable Boy "some time down the road - some time when I have time to read such a tome."
Flash forward to late summer, early fall of last year.
My mom sends me newspaper clippings. Always has. It's just what she does. (In an interesting side note, my college roommate Jennifer and I had a major bonding experience when I learned that her mom was also a little freakish about sending her newspaper clippings, but I digress.) Mom sends me an editorial written by a woman who couldn't finish a book. She loved to read - read all the time in fact - but had discovered lately that she had started a number of books and hadn't been able to finish a one of them. Her fear was that Facebook status updates and tweets and even blogs, while all perfectly fine things to read, had ruined her for reading anything of any length or substance. She feared she was no longer reading fresh produce, if you will, but was only reading junk food.
Her solution? She drug out some huge favorite book from her formative years like Crime and Punishment or Little Dorrit (can't remember exactly what book it was) and forced herself to re-read it. But she didn't have to force herself for long - once she got into it, it was smooth sailing. The avid book-lover in her took over and she never even thought about giving up. She considered herself cured.
I read this little blurb about the same time I had given up reading a Pat Conroy, an Anne Rivers Siddons, and a handful of other authors so forgettable that I've already forgotten them. I had started many a book, and put down many a book, unfinished. Nothing grabbed me. So this harmless little newspaper clipping disturbed me a little.
Maybe it wasn't the books, maybe it was me. Maybe I just couldn't focus long enough to finish a book anymore. Maybe this brave new world of instant information had ruined my attention span. Maybe irreparably.
And while this disturbed me, I didn't really do much about it. I kept reading, finished some books, and put down some books too. But I kept having this nagging feeling that I really needed to read something epic. Something life changing. In short, something long.
And then I remembered A Suitable Boy. I bought it and got to reading. I'm about a third of the way in and liking it. It's set in India, and I have learned that I don't know anything at all about India. I'm enjoying discovering how little I know. And I like the characters. And the writing style.
And I especially like having a really long book, one that I enjoy, one that just sort of sits there, week after week, waiting for me to come by and enjoy it for a few minutes. It may take me a while to read it, but I'm OK with that. I'm reading it. And that's a good thing.




