words words words

I've been digesting a lot of them lately. I'm going on "author jags" lately. I find an author I like and want to read their entire canon. Perhaps reading is an escape for me. Hmmm....Don't think there's any perhaps about it.

This morning I finished The Caine Mutiny. Thus end the Herman Wouk WWII novels. About 3,000 pages of him in the past month. I'm not sure I'll go back and read Marjorie Morningstar or any of his remaining stuff immediately. The three I just finished were excellent writing. Highly recommended. But then I really like historical fiction.

The first two, Winds of War and War and Remembrance, have excellent histories of WWII woven into them. I have a newfound greater appreciation for my grandfathers and the rest of the "last best generation" or whatever it is they're labeled with. Frightening to think how the world might be if that conflict turned out differently. Sobering to think about how little thought we give those sacrifices these days. I hope to visit Normandy this Summer and pay my respects.

There is also a subplot in the two histories regarding the plight of Jews in Nazi controlled Europe and Auschwitz. Of course those circumstances are almost beyond comprehension and belief. From the perspective of that time I was struck by what Wouk refers to as "the will not to believe". When the stories began to come out they were just too horrible. People, including potential victims and potential rescuers just couldn't comprehend that a civilized nation and people could be capable of such horrible atrocities. I suppose the lesson for me is that individuals and collectives are capable of amazingly good things and amazingly horrid things and that disbelief should not be our first reaction. I think I have a better understanding now of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and what Israel means to the Jewish people. Just incredible that all that happened within my parents' lifetimes. Woops. There I go with the disbelief.

Well, that was really uplifting wasn't it? Just call me Donnie Downer. Debbie's brother. A few months ago I read all of Cormac McCarthy except Suttree which is regarded as his masterpiece. Just got that from the library yesterday so I guess I'll circle back and check that one off the list. His stuff's not too dark either...ahem.

Who should I go to next? Please recommend an author I might choose. I guess in my present state I'm hoping to tick off the classics I haven't gotten to yet. Why is it that most of the "great literature" is so depressing. I'll go out to the Internet and snoop around. Can't think of any laugh out loud titans.

Off I go. Off like a prom dress as I used to say. ;)