Closing the Book on This One

The dark lyrics of singer-songwriter Jackson Browne always did hit the nail on the head. In his 1974 hit, "Fountain of Sorrow," he described the sensation of realizing the person you have idealized in love is in reality a doofus. Browne puts the moment of realization this way: "When you see through love's illusions, there lies the danger, and your perfect lover just looks like a perfect fool." Last night I realized that can also happen with things other than people.

I've been reading a book that I loved at the outset, but somewhere around page 246 I sort of stopped even liking it. By page 252 I openly detested it. In fact, I had read quite enough, thank you. With that feeling of relief that floods over you when you wake up from a bad dream, I suddenly and gleefully realized, "Hey, I don't have to read this anymore! I can just stop and get back to my real life, the one without the depressing, abandoned, dirty and hungry teenage boys with their drug abuse and alcoholism and petty thievery and pathetic, lost, loveless lives." I tossed it aside and poured myself a celebratory glass of wine, happy to not be one of those people who "have to finish" a book, even when they aren't enjoying it.

Just out of normal curiosity, I called a friend who had read it all the way through and begged her to spare me the pain of the next 500 pages. She brought me up to speed in no time, making me glad for my decision since where it was going was even worse than where it had already been: heroin, hit men, deaths and despair, sadness, mental breakdowns, drowning....please, I read to feel better, not worse.

The book is a best-seller still in hardcover called "The Goldfinch" and there are about 20 mind-blowing pages in the beginning describing what it's like to be in an explosion. If you can get hold of a copy, read that part. Or just wait for the movie, I'm sure it's coming. As for me, I feel liberated. I may start Thoreau's "Walden," which I somehow missed, just to get some fresh air in my brain.