I've found that I have only written about what I like, which my younger sister would proably think that I am giving the wrong impression of myself. Apparently, I'm always criticising, everything. Well I guess I may have high expectations of art.
       Anyway for school I have read a newer book The Things They Carried it was complete rubbish. Well not quite the author had a fairly engaging writing style (not brilliant but good), and he did some interesting things within the book.
         During the first few chapters I found that I was not enjoying the book. At first I just assumed that I did not like war stories. Than I realized that was not it. I mean I enjoy reading Anglo Saxon literature, to them everything is a battle or needs a battle somewhere within the context of the story. I also enjoyed various other wartime literature, such as the Coldtz Story.
          Ever since I was a young girl I had a healthy dislike of fluff. Of sappy romances. That is what that the story was, no it was not a sappy romance, it was depressing fluff. The entire reason the book was written was to convey the emotion of war. There was no meaning behind, there was a questioning of truth to the story,I must admit, but it is truth of the most juvenile kind. The conclusion of the questioning was about a persons own personal or emotional truth, as being the only kind. So it just goes back to his trying to make you feel.
        The story (it's not a novel, by any stretch of the definition) told the most bizarre stories in the hope that the audience would be appalled and feel what war feels like. Well I have read more bizarre and gory stories than that, so it did not have the same effect on me as it would on others.
        In other words I was not impressed.