Monday, January 12, 2009

No Figuring It

Recently, I picked up a couple of books at the used book store because someone I knew seemed enthralled with a certain author, or the main character of the novel series he'd written. If you ask me, I am a lot like the main guy in the books. He's a complete sucker in many ways. Wary, yet inexplicably trusting, and forever at the mercy of the women he rescues, in an odd sort of way. He's probably luckier than I am, though. Maybe not.

Anyway, it makes little sense in the context of the person who is enthralled with the series. It's like a monarchist being smitten with Mark Twain. That probably happens. People often miss the point with him. He was not at all taken with that sort of authority. Or a devout communist/socialist devoted to Ayn Rand's novels. Must be a conflicted soul.

Why would I go to such trouble? First off, I liked the books. Secondly, curiosity.

I wonder what it says about me that Aztec is probably my favorite novel that I've read in the last ten years. Maybe I should read it again to be sure. It's only about a billion pages. It is not common that I read a book more than once. I tend to remember them once my mind is triggered, so it loses something.

Once I was checking out some children's books and read all the Trixie Belden series. Even I worry about me for that one. If someone were to look for insight into my psyche by reading Trixe Belden, I'm not sure I'd want to be privy to the resulting conclusions.

That leaves me where I started--nowhere, and aimed at no point in particular. Either you can or can't tell a book by the cover. Depends on the book I think.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


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