I’m a literature bibliophile. I’m sure you all know that. A lot of works I dislike even though a thousand other people love them. Even the most hated ones become my favorites after a while. All my AP English peeps from high school know that I hated Kate Chopin’s The Awakening as well as J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye. Yet, somehow, The Great Gatsby’s has earned a soft little tender spot in my heart.
So, as a fan of George Orwell’s 1984, I really wanted to purchase Haruki Murakami’s newest work 1Q84 because Murakami will never ever let me down.
…
However, I realized that I didn’t own a copy of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables (unabridged, of course) yet.
So, I was tempted by the fatness of both books. Both are pretty pricey as well.
Sorry, Mr. Hugo, I went for Murakami today.
And it’s a wonderful read.
Forgive me, I’ll pick you up next time.
So, my boyfriend for the next couple of weeks (since Kyle’s in Hawaii) is going to be this rather fat novel.
…the prose is so orgasmic omg.
