Ghostland (and other unfinished stories)

For ages now, I've been slogging my way through three books, none of which is bad, but none of which grips my attention and keeps me turning the pages. Reading Idiot Brain last week, I was struck by Dean Burnett's musings on the nature of motivation and particular what motivates readers to force themselves to finish a book that they've long determined doesn't constitute pleasurable reading material. On the cusp of the new year, Burnett's veiled admonition spoke to me and I resolved not to be that reader anymore. Thus, I've reached the end of the line with these three books:

Wanderlust: A History of Walking by Rebecca Solnit

In five words: Too much philosophizing; too boring. More plainly, just because I like to do something doesn't mean a book about that activity (or object, see Paper) makes for an enthralling read.

Far Afield by Susanna Kaysen

Kaysen's Far Afield caught my eye for being set in the Faroe Islands. I'd not read anything there and, hoping it might by similar to Mary MacLeod's delightful Call the Nurse and Nurse, Come You Here!, both of which are set in the neighboring Shetlands, I harbored great hope for this fictional account of life in the Faroes. In the end, Far Afield was both too similar to too different to hold my interest. Would I consider going back to this when MacLeod is less fresh in my mind? Perhaps. But my reading list is long and the time to read too short.

Ghostland: An American History in Haunted Places by Coline Dickey

Of the three books, Dickey's Ghostland is the one that held my attention longest and that I liked best. Each chapter explores a purportedly haunted place in America, from the early homes of Salem, Massachusetts, to a Toys R Us in California. Dickey visits each and explains the history behind the place, when it was first reported as haunted, the ways in which haunting is tied to the commercial value, and so on, generally systematically dismantling the notion of the haunting. "Many times a ghost story is simply an attempt to account for scattered tidbits, some disconnected facts, that don't add up," Dickey writes halfway through the book, but he's said as much at least a half dozen times before that. Ultimately, Ghostland  was just too repetitive for me. Each chapter followed the formula I've described, and, while the setting changes from hotel to home or brothel to bar, each feels the same. After 150 or so pages, I'd had my fill.