“This is the worst book I have ever read,” Karol whispers to me from the row behind mine. I was in 16E, she was in 17E.
Meanwhile, I was determined to finish a book that Alceste and Dawn 2 got me last Christmas. The Game of Thrones had shattered the previously held Anna Karenina six months of horror. It had almost been a year since I started reading it.
Needless to say I had no sympathy for Karol.
“Dude, I see your sucky book, add 700 pages to it and give you ten more months of reading it.”
She laughed.
“No, you don’t understand. Only one person recommended that book to you, I’ve had like four different people tell me I need to read this. Including, [we'll call her fake best friend forever.] FBFF.”
We laugh and return to our reading assignments. A minute later Karol is slipping “Eat, Pray, Love” to me through the space between the seats.
“No, seriously, you have to read this. Start there.”
“Dude,” I have my own nightmarish prose to get through. Are you crazy?”
“No…come on, just read this paragraph.”
“Okay, I said, passing my own book back, you read this paragraph.”
She didn’t take it; instead, she started reading a passage aloud to me. Something about how even refugees of war and famine only want to talk to their therapist about the men who broke their heart and left them for their cousins or something. To be honest, the minute I realized she was reading her book to me, I started to read my book to her. So the text got intertwined with something about and Imp and a lord and a 400 year-long Winter.
I read a few pages before takeoff, but I’m pretty sure the thud of the book hitting the cabin floor was the last sound I heard before falling asleep for the duration of the trip.
That the book manages to put me to asleep everytime, was one of the reasons I’ve brought it with me on pretty much ever flight I’ve taken since I got it. It’s also why it’s taken me almost a year to finish.
Karol and I repeated our “no, no my book is worse” banter on the flight back.
“You should just stop. Fisch tried to get me to read that thing too, he took it back after I hadn’t touched it after five days. It’s for 16 year old boys.”
“But Mary said she liked it and it was a gift from Alceste. We trust Alceste…usually…Anyway, I’m no quitter. I finish what I start, even if it makes my eyes bleed. Besides, I don’t see you stopping your book.”
“Yeah, but dude…it’s just all white people angst. I don’t know why FBFF would think I’d like this crap. I’m going to have to have a serious talk with her.”
I fell short of my goal to get half-way through by the time I returned to New York. But I was not going into the new year with Game of Thrones hanging over my head. There’s a line in the book about how the regular people don’t care about the game of thrones. It was like it was reading my mind.
Actually, it wouldn’t be so bad as a drinking game.
Everytime the word ser appears, do one shot.
Everytime someone wants to fly or see something fly, chug a beer.
At the mention of Dany cradling dragon eggs, drink straight from the bottle until you pass out.
I emailed Karol a few days ago to update her on my progress. “And now, there are zombies. ZOMBIES.”
Alas, slow and steady wins the race. And by wins, I mean, finish. And by race, I mean book.
Of course, that the book doesn’t end, instead, we get the proverbial “to be continued,” maybe “win” is the wrong concept altogether.
