My efforts to shed a few pounds have cascaded into my reading life. I’m not sure if that is a confession or an observation. I have come to appreciate the classic lite fare of literature as much as I have come to enjoy lighter meals when dining. At times there is something so satisfying on digesting a novel of under three hundred plus pages, not that I don’t enjoy a large tome now and then, but I do find I like a comparatively quick read fulfills my need for literature. There is also the advantage of being able to start another literary morsel that much sooner. Here are a few of my lighter, yet nourishing favorites:
Daisy Miller by Henry James
Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
Billy Budd by Herman Melville
The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
Room with a View by E. M. Foster
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Nora Zeale Hurston
Literary lite certainly does not mean insubstantial. Actually, I have found after a couple of reads of lighter weight (not to be confused with welter weights) I crave a jolly long read. For instance, Daisy Miller introduced me to James’ Portrait of a Lady–which is quite fulfilling.
Any lite reads on your menu?
- Popular Interpretations of Frankenstein (engl295umd.wordpress.com)
some shorter novels can actually be even more amazing than longer ones. i just finished a book by gayle forman that was a scant 120 pages called if i stay that was beyond fantastic – so much better than one twice the size i’d read just before it.
120 pages would be a novellite–I do believe…
i could be wrong on the exact word count but it was pretty close to that. whatever you call it, it was amazing.
I recently reread Solzhenitsyn’s One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich which I hadn’t read since high school. It was such so great to reread it and, you are so right, despite its thinness, it is a deep and thoughtful read.
(I have to add that the cover of your edition of Billy Budd really made me laugh- wonderfully kitschy!
I believe it was the version I had to read in high school!