As you might guess, it’s only going so well.
Let me explain…
Ever read a book or watch a movie because you’re simply supposed to? You may mention your lack of experience concerning a certain tome or recording and people around you are “shocked” at your ignorance.
“You mean you haven’t read/watched/ sampled/heard/etc __FILL_IN_BLANK?!!__ ” they may shriek. “Why that’s simply amazing! You’ve got to read/watch/sample/hear/etc __FILL_IN_BLANK__ as soon as possible.”
They say this in tone that suggests people with think less of him or her at their funeral should word come out concerning this oversight.
I can imagine two guys whispering to each other during the memorial service:
“Psst! Barney! Did you hear he never saw…” The man looks both ways before proceeding to whisper the name in his neighbor’s ear.
The recipient of the secret first looks surprised and then shakes his head with a begrudging air. “What a waste…” is all he can say.
As they finish speaking, a woman clad all in black glides up to the coffin. She leaves behind a white rose and a copy of the book/movie/music recording/etc that was missed in the previous life. No one can tell who she is, but judging by the tears that trickle down from behind her shielding sun glasses, she obviously cared.
At least that’s my perceived feeling when I mention the fact I’ve still never watched all of “Citizen Kane” or that I’ve been trying to read “Catcher in the Rye” for two years and can’t quite finish it (or start it, more likely).
These personal shortcomings that threaten my ability to function in society, to truly be considered a man, or be able to rent a car north of the Mason-Dixon line (from what I understand, there’s a written test one must pass before receiving the keys). Realizing this, I have long taken steps to correct this. I have been encouraged by my parents – who bought me a slew of “modern classics” back when Wal-Mart sold them two-for-a-dollar back in the mid-nineties. I read a lot of them and/or skimmed the corresponding Great Illustrated Classic (purchased earlier) enough to know the basic plotline.
Let me summarize some of those texts for you based only on my memory of the pictures:
Around the World in 80 Days: Man makes crazy wager, has wild adventures around the globe, wins bet.
The Count of Monte Cristo: Guy gets gypped, breaks out of prison, finds fortunes, turns tables on betrayers, gets girl.
Hunchback of Notre Dame: Hulking figure falls in love with girl, explores the world beyond the cathedral, sanctuary, sanctuary, dies next to girl.
Moby Dick: Call him Ishmael, Queequeg is a cool name and guy, lots of whales are speared, captain has bone to pick, namesake picks some bones too.
Robinson Crusoe: Man is shipwrecked, goes all “Castaway” – without the volleyball, meets Friday on a Friday, makes escape.
The Time Machine: The traveler goes through time, meets girl, meets Morlocks, finds Morlocks eat girls, gets lost in time, leaves behind flowers.”
War of the Worlds: Aliens attack Earth, bad guys almost win until germs intervene. Next time aliens invade, sneeze on them.
So I have enough to pass a general examination thanks to those pretty pictures and a handful of Disney adaptations (though I don’t believe Victor Hugo had three singing gargoyles. I’ve been meaning to look that up…).
I had one summer when I pointedly went through my parents’ video collection (this was back when laserdiscs were still considered high-tech – and my family certainly wasn’t at the cutting edge). I had a mission that I wouldn’t watch anything bubble-gummy without watching a classic first.
So I would watch “Bridge over River Kwai” before “Kindergarten Cop.” After “Weekend at Bernie’s,” I would watch “Death Takes a Holiday” (Note: And it is because I have seen the original, one of the best movies ever made, that I hate “Meet Joe Black” with a rage some reserve for bear wrestling).
Some entries age less gracefully than others and may have dried out years before you arrived on the scene. There are some “classics” that I’d get to the end and you’d wonder, “Is it me, or was 19__ just a slow year?”
So systematically watching your intake works for a while, but when you’re burned like that (in movies or literature), it becomes easier for the sugary fluff to eventually outnumber the “com’on, open up; it’s good for you’s.”
Of course, plain laziness is also a factor.
Since I’ve gotten out of college, my reading has covered subjects ranging from astronomy, Egyptology, the autobiography of Johnny Cash, literary murder mysteries (where famous authors like Edgar Allen Poe or Henry Wadsworth Longfellow solve gruesome crimes), Christian legal thrillers, military “what if” scenarios (like what if we had airmen on patrol the day of the Pearl Harbor attack), lots of sci-fiction, but mostly, graphic novels.
Yep. I’m reading comics because I never had a library that collected Batman and Superman and X-Men titles, but now I do, and it’s easy to knock one out in about an half hour. I could blame this on my uncle, who kindly let me pour through an endless number of milk crates filled with the comics he had collected. He was the one who planted this interest that was later cultivated by collecting titles and reading whatever spare comics I came across. There was one winter where all the money I earned shoveling driveways was poured into buying comic cards. The amount seems wasteful now, though in defense of my middle school self, it was the only year I completed a whole set – a claim none of my friend ever made.
Anyway, I’m still reading about more than superheroes (I could make a defense for my post-college aged self about archetypes, and characterizations that are commonly found in the myths of many cultures, but I wouldn’t want to bore you which such musings). I’ve been reading more on the theory of global warming, psychology (especially the kook kind that was once the rage but has long been discredited) and evolution.
I would like to think I am adding facets to my character that weren’t there before. I’m also reading about Tarzan taking on the Predators in the center of the Earth (this is around the same time I was reading Edgar Rice Burroughs’s classic novel about the same land characters in the land Pellucida located “At the Earth’s Core,” excluding the aliens of course).
You can argue that old, turn of the century schlock can be considered stylish when viewed from a modern eye, but when you factor in ape-men, the pterodactyl-like creatures, and the whole hollow globe thing, you have that admit that, even aged, it’s pulp in any century.
It may not enrich my cultured standing in society, but my dream life is crazier than ever. And maybe that is something better to aspire for, for now.
All I know is if the Joker, zombies, or eco-terrorists pop up in my job questionnaires anytime soon, I’ll totally be prepared. And that isn’t bad either… I hope.
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