A gift

My dear friend Colleen was kind enough to offer to lend me her collection of books that are on the list. To my surprise, she brought over a file box half full of books and told me that she had been working on a birthday present for me, which was to be the box filled with books that I had yet to read. She's moving to California with her husband in August, so I had asked her last week if I could make the most of the time she has left here by borrowing as many books as I could before she left. Half of the box she brought over are to be returned to her, but she's supplied me with a decent sized stack of lengthy books for me to work on after I get through her's. I'm so very humbled and thankful.

I decided it would be most economical to try to read her books first, and work on the lightest reads so that I could get through as many as I can before Colleen leaves. I've just finished Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, a book that I had heard mentioned a lot, but never knew much about. I think I had mostly heard about it in some way attached to adolescent boys, and therefore thought it was some sort of juvenile book (I had also not really expected it to be a novel) for middle school children. I was pleasantly surprised, though, to find that it was versatile to be both that, as well as an entertaining little "trip" for adults, too. It was refreshing to read something so breezy and casual after my stint of morose genre. Hitchhiker's was funny and whimsical (can I call sci-fi whimsical?), and I was reminded of my fondness for the humor that British writers are so skilled at writing - sarcastic, absurd, and still intelligent? I can't really describe it, but I guess it's something of a trademark of theirs that everyone is familiar with so I don't really need to try to.
There was a weird dis-attachment to the characters for me. I liked them all enough, but I don't think I really cared deeply for any one. I think I started to, with Ford and Arthur, but reflecting on it when I started to see that happening, I realized that I didn't, really. I was growing quite fond of Slartibartfast probably most, but he was sent away quickly after serving his role, which was unfortunate. I wish his characters weren't so mostly humanoid, though I guess I can't really blame a human writer of having a hard time coming up with fantastical aliens. I quite liked the idea of a hyper-intelligent being taking on the form of the color blue (or however it was that they were described).
Adams' flitting from one idea to the next (though these ideas were very fluidly tied together) played down any seriousness, which worked as a consistent whole...after so many near-death escapes, it was becoming obvious that the crew would never be killed, but it was just as probable that Adams would, in one sentence, kill them all off and end the book. That, I think, is an interesting idea in itself, whether or not it was intentional. Such abrupt writing never allowed for any attachment, but rather forced the reader to accept everything as fact to be considered for a brief moment (maybe that's what works so well for younger readers). This continued for the entirety of the book. But maybe that's the point, relative to this Universe.

Not sure which book I'll open next (so many options!), but probably something a little darker, to get some sort of pattern going. Until next time.