Friday, 12 April 2013

L-Space 4- The Mega-Powers Explode

Like everyone surely is, I have the tendency to display some rather obsessive-compulsive behavior if you catch me at the right time. It's kind of sat on the boundary of eccentricity, looking over the edge into the abyss of possible madness, possibly developed through a lifelong exposure to modern culture as it rushes past at an incredible rate. For me, I've latched onto obsessiveness through order in regards to the excessive amount of it I consume through movies, music, books, comics, and (my biggest, nerdiest obsession) pro-wrestling. I love that stuff.

For years now I've kept really basic lists of books, movies and TV shows I've read and seen, and my iTunes music collection has been meticulously ordered. I have these completely unrealistic expectations that I'll be able to eventually get around to watching all the classic films I've never seen, and I'll hear every classic band I ever felt intrigued by. It's worse with literature though because I know I'll never feel satisfied until I've read everything I ever wanted to and everything I've never heard of that I might love. It's impossible because I probably won't live for another million years.

It's really very annoying when I come across a book that I really want to read for various reasons, but just can't get into it. I don't really have a problem quickly giving up on your everyday garden-variety book, but when it's a recognised classic it turns me in to a bit of a book emo. In case your wondering, the book that inspired this quick rant was Letters from the Underworld by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Admittedly it's not one of the great Russian's most well-known works, but instead is a small novella.
I've never read any Russian literature before. It had been a conscious decision to stay away from the genre because I felt sure that my first taste would lead me on to more and more, and I'd be picking up that many more books to add to the pile. So it felt like a personal moment of sorts when I started reading, chosen simply because of its short length making consumption quicker. The problem was I couldn't find the right mood to read it, meandering through the first few pages without really latching onto it.

I had to abandon it because I knew that otherwise it would sit in limbo forever. In the meantime I binged on graphic novels- completing The Complete Judge Dredd Files Vol. 10, The Walking Dead Book 1, The Boys Vol 7 and Alan Moore's Nemo- Heart of Ice- to my great pleasure. I'm massively tempted to write about them at greater length, but then I'm getting dangerously close to six paragraphs as it is, and I'm lazy. I might do a series review of Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen series (to which the aforementioned Nemo is the latest release) at some point, but the weight of the Discworld series is going to take up my non-random thoughts, non-latest reads posts.

Which reminds me, I should probably go write a Lords and Ladies review. After that it'll probably be back to Chuck Bukowski again.