A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, by James Joyce: I grew to dislike him more and more.

Not for a very long time has a book taken me over a month to finish reading. Especially a book only 250 pages long. C’mon now – what the heck? And as you can probably tell from the length which it took to complete it – I did not enjoy this book. The beginning was alright, I liked Stephen and I liked how he communicated about himself. But as the novel progressed and as Stephen matured, I grew to dislike him more and more. He wasn’t just confusing and way way too philosophical, he was arrogant and stand off-ish. Not a good quality for an audience to try and understand. Maybe this book was just too smart for me – after all, it’s supposed to be one of the greatest works of literature of all time. I just don’t see how that happened. It’s a wonderful portrayal of a transformation, I suppose. And it’s honest, and tells of a rebellion against God and country (which a lot of people like nowadays…). And the voice does evolve along with the main character into maturity. But the BEST novel of all time? Please.

Source: Goodreads. Sarah


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