If you can swim naked out to a ship and then stuff your pockets with biscuits, I tip my hat to you, sir.
11-year-old me could have done it!
Current me would probably take a nap on the beach and end up eaten by wolves.
I believe it was National Lampoon that had the spoof version, where, after a few days, he had put together a small nuclear reactor to power his local electrical grid.
Another fun example of a few people devising a remarkably high level of tech from a shipwreck is Act II of “The Admirable Crichton,” the second-most-famous play by J.M. Barrie.
(“The Tempest,” too, but Prospero cheats and uses magic.)
The Scarlet Letter could outbore both of them combined with half it’s pages tied behind its back.
The Scarlet Letter at least acknowledges the concept of sex, which is inherently more interesting than the sexless monotony in Silas Marner.
I liked Robinson Crusoe (and even Silas Marner). My go-to sleeping aid is Henry James.
I liked it also. I thought the beginning, when he was a teenager still living at home, and complaining how boring, visionless and staid his parents are, and how they didn’t seem to know anything about what life was about, surprisingly relatable. As was his much later reminiscence that he was an idiot at that age.
I read it during the heyday of Lost. As a devoted fan, I was interested to review the wellspring of the “lost on a deserted island” genre. I was amazed to see how much the TV show borrowed directly from the original source material, and how gripping the book was.
You thought wrong. “Like Robinson Car-ew-so, it’s primitive as can be.”
And the Professor could make a radio out of coconuts.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was next on the list.
I have absolutely no defense for The Scarlet Letter.
The only defense for The Scarlet Letter is that it is better than Tess of the D’Urbervilles. So is my grocery list, but FWIW.
Regards,
Shodan
Yup, Scarlet Letter is pretty bad, too. For a book about adultery it is really preachy.
You know what I found surprisingly good? Sense and Sensibility. Pride and Prejudice always bored the fuck out of me but S&S was really good. Maybe because we all have a bit of sense and a bit of sensibility in us, forever warring in our natures.
McTeague is also really great. I am just throwing out “older” novels I liked, no real order to them, btw.
I’ll try to think of others. Oh, I liked the Woman in White, though it did go on a distressingly long time.
I’m sure someone is poised to mention Moby-Dick, so I want to go on record as declaring I liked Moby-Dick.
Im suprised no porn star ever co-opted that name.
How could I forget the Count of Monte Cristo? Amazing book, except for the Sinbad the Sailor bits.
My “it’s time to go to the library” book is Dr. Zhivago. When I am desperate enough to pick that one up, I know I really need to go get some more books.
Old-ish stuff: I’m currently reading the “Inspector Hanaud” novels by A.E.W. Mason. Hanaud is very recognizeable as an inspiration for Agatha Christie’s “Hercule Poirot.”
The Hanaud novels – all Mason’s books – are appallingly intricate! The plot lines are twisted, deep, involute, and complicated! Hell, in one of the books, the business where Hanaud explains to his confreres how the crime occurred and how he solved it, took up more than 100 pages!
But…they’re fun!
Especially one that looks like Moby.