Before I look back on some of my favorite books that I’ve read this year, I want to reflect on the two books that I did not finish (DNF). Before deciding to not finish a book, I really do use the 200 page rule: I read, and try to enjoy, at least 200 pages of a book before declaring it a lost cause. Some wonderful books, including by one of my favorite authors, John Irving, start slowly. As a result, I finish – and enjoy – the vast majority of the books I begin reading. Of the 50 I’ve read so far this year, only two (four percent of the total) have fallen into the DNF category.
I learned of My New American Life through the Post’s summer reading list, a usually wonderful source of reading ideas. The premise of the book sounded interesting: a young Albania woman (Lula) comes to the U.S. to work as a nanny in suburban New York/New Jersey, goes about adjusting to life in this country, and has her life thrown into a bit of turmoil by the appearance of a couple of Albanians (mobsters) who may or may not have known her or her family in Albania. The premise seemed promising enough, but the characters and the story never developed. Lula walks to the library. Lula goes to the supermarket. Lula prepares an after-school snack for her charge. Lula lives a quiet suburban life. I get it; in many ways, it is my life. And Lula’s shopping trips sounded about as exciting as mine. Maybe that would have been okay, had I cared about Lula – or anyone else in the book. I didn’t. After roughly 250 pages, I decided I’d read enough.
The second book I did not finish was far more disappointing. Having read most of Mark Twain’s work, I eagerly anticipated the release of his autobiography. Unfortunately, it bore virtually no resemblance to his other work that I had loved: little wit or charm, few characters to connect with, no common threads holding it all together. The anecdotes in the Autobiography of Mark Twain, at least those in volume one, appeared to be random recollections, presented in no certain order, and in very dry prose. As I read, I felt it must get better, that surely the next page, the next story would be the one to turn the tide in favor of the book. Half-way through the 700+ page tome, I closed the book for the last time and returned it to the library, unfinished.
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