Thursday, October 16, 2014

The Worst Thing About My Book

 
 
So I am currently reading the Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlum. Let me start this off by saying that I do enjoy this book. There are many things that are intriguing and well-written. However, I have some complaints. But I'm going to avoid talking about all the little things that set me off and focus on the thing I despise about it. The worst thing about my book by far is the length. When I started I did know that it was 600 pages and I was okay with that. I didn't know that he packed in so much plot within those pages that reading it felt like an insurmountable task. In the 300 pages that I have completed I could write my own 600 page book with the right spacing.

 I know what you are thinking. What's wrong with an action packed plot? Doesn't that make it interesting and easy to read? No, no it does not. I said it had a ton of plot, however most of it is lulls where Bourne is trying to figure out who he is. While that can be interesting it gets so boring when there are chapters and chapters of unanswered questions. I like suspense, I welcome mystery, I tell angst to hitch a ride with me because they are my friends. I love those things in a book but when it is stretched to the point where there is no satisfaction, no break in the infinite questions it irks me. I want to know the answers, I want to keep reading but if Ludlum could've brought some answers forth faster I would like this book even more.

For example, the book starts with Bourne having amnesia and it takes him 50 pages to find out his name. Not where he is from, what he does or even if he has family. Just. His. Name. Now do you see the madness? The insanity this book is forcing me into? Also there are a lot of internal thoughts. I love internal thoughts but they are just another portal into the suffocating suspense that is this book.  About 200 pages into the book and Bourne's thoughts are "Stop it. How many times do I say that to myself? You are my love, the only woman I have ever known, and you believe in me. Why can't I believe in myself?" Even his thoughts are cryptic, tiny mysteries the reader has to unravel through the pursuit of the story. Because the reader doesn't know why he can't trust himself, why he feels like he'll hurt Marie by sticking around or why he can't believe I himself. Yet Ludlum has to taunt us with blindingly obvious questions that we already have and want to answer.

 But even with all the waiting I love this book and can't wait to finish it and delve into the adaptation of it by watching the movie.