The other day I started a good book, an award-winning book, a book others told me I should read as an example of great literature. I was looking forward to to reading this book, but before I’d finished the second chapter I had to put it down. Why?
I was so freaking depressed I didn’t know what to do with myself. In the space of some twenty-odd pages this author had described at least three acts of cruelty or outright abuse dealt to the story’s heroine or other characters in the story. That was enough for me.
I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand the appeal of gut-wrenching, angst-inducing, literal blow-by-blow descriptions of things one human being decides they simply must do to another. I’m not talking about murder and mayhem. That I like. Maybe it’s the fact that this story dealt with abuse of children. I understand the villian of this piece and the progaonist both find some peace at the end of this story, but I’m not interested in the redemption of child abusers. Castration and incarceration, maybe. A horrible excruciated death, now that’s better. If anyone wants any suggestions on how this can be accomplished, just let me know.
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