I agree wholeheartedly with this. Of course, I read mostly fantasy novels. I guess my guilty pleasure would be the collected works of one Ms. Anne McCaffrey. (Except for the Gwyn-Raven-Lyon family saga–I grew out of them. Annoying twats.)
Louis L’amour westerns.
They’re not real well written and usually cliched as hell, but it’s one of my favorite ways to waste an afternoon.
It’s arguably all part of racism – you handle large groups of characters as stereotypes rather than as a collection of individuals. I actually think that Tarzan isn’t as bad as he’s made out to be, but YMMV.
My problem with the Tarzan novels is that, although there is tremendous creativity in them, the plots are all pretty simple and similar. I like Burroughs for his Ant Men and Land of Pal-ul-don and his Lost Crusaders in Africa and so forth, but the stories that carry all these wonderful ideas are awfully repetitive. I set out to read all the Tarzan novels in one summer, and couldn’t do it. It was like trying to live on a diet of creampuffs.
Oh my! This was my first thought, although I don’t have my copies anymore. I was able to give them away after I darn near memorized ‘em. 
Like everyone here, I’m not ashamed of what I read. I just sometimes like to read it at home. When no one is looking.
My guilty pleasure is the Miss Julia series by Ann B. Ross. These books are just the coziest little Southern-fried dramedies, and they look exactly like what middle-aged ladies such as myself are expected to read. That’s why I can’t let anyone catch me!
I also have a picture book on hold at the library, but that’s research for my Christmas shopping. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Lost Crusaders in Africa?
If we are going to set serious here, I read ERB’s Mars and Venus stuff, and, H. Rider Haggard.
:rolleyes:
If you haven’t read Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle, you owe it to yourself.
But, heck, it’s a lot more believable than Ant Men.
I have read many of the Tarzan books.
You are Greystoke.
I’ve been reading crap for entertainment all my life, so I don’t feel guilty about it any more. But currently, I’d have to say the Jack Reacher series. They aren’t very well written, or consistent with the laws of nature or history or common sense, but they’re entertaining. Basically, Conan (or maybe Cheyenne) in a contemporary setting.
Oh yes, for the Tarzan books I love to collect trivia nuggets.
What was the first language Tarzan spoke? Ape
What was the first human language Tarzan spoke? French
What does the name Tarzan mean? White skin
And so on.
Who taught him French?
Jane? :dubious:
A Frenchman, whose name I forget. Tarzan rescued him in the original novel. I think Burroughs liked the idea of Tarzan knowing how to read English*, but only speak French, at first
*Tarzan taught himself from childhood primers. He was an incredible autodidact.
And who can forget the time he stumbled on a geology textbook?
“Me Tanzanite. You Jade.”
Anyway, my guilty pleasure reading is all fanfic, mostly Harry Potter fanfic right now. “Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality” and “Harry Potter and the Natural 20” are high on my current list.
Mysteries: Laurence Block’s The Burglar Who… series; Joan Hess’s Mallory and Claire Malloy series-es, Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe mysteries; Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone series. Oh, and Silver Age comics.
Paul d’Arnot, Lieutenant, French Navy. In the second or third book, he is a retired admiral. Later in the series, he reappears as a youthful lieutenant again.
I thought that he was a Belgian.
I forgot one of my guiltiest pleasures: Warhammer novels. If I ever get an e-reader I will fill it up with those things.
In the Christophe Lambert movie, they changed him from French Navy to Belgian Army. (Or perhaps Congo Free State army. I didn’t look too closely at his uniform.) They also changed the Greystokes from English viscounts to Scottish earls.
I, too, love love love Poldark. No, they are NOT bodice-rippers, they are exquisitely detailed historical novels. There used to be a mini-series on PBS years ago, just divine to look at. There are many many Poldark novels, the Four Swans is wonderful.
I saw the first series (most of it, anyway) when it was first aired on BBC in 1976–'77. I’m glad I missed the first few episodes, because they were completely different from what happens at the beginning of Ross Poldark. The screenwriter, Jack Pulman, didn’t do any more episodes; whether this was because he was yanked from the project or because he just went on to other things (notably I, Claudius), I don’t know.
I hope PBS didn’t bowdlerize Poldark the way they did with some episodes of Claudius. I loved the part where Rowella’s husband lost it after he saw her servicing Osborne Whitworth.
I was astonished when I realized that Mrs Barnaby on Midsomer Murders was played by the same actress who played Morwenna Chenowith on Poldark. She’s still a very pretty woman, but she doesn’t look at all the way I remember Morwenna, with whom I was deeply in love 30 years ago.
(I named my younger daughter Elizabeth Caroline, too. I’d like to have another someday so I can name her either Grace or Demelza.)