As I rarely discard a book, it should thus come as no surprise that I have overflowing shelves of novels I’ve once read, enjoyed, savoured and then swore up-and-down-back-and-forth that I was going to re-read someday. Alas, it is someday. I’m spending whole of 2016 revisiting my book collection, digging back into books I read once, but that I haven’t read (or listened to) in at least four years. So, we’re about to find out what was worth reading… twice.
After nearly a week of catatonically staring at the television in a fever-state-stupor, I picked up my Kindle this morning and decided to just finish this book. I’ve been reading Dune by Frank Herbert for the better part of a month, and the seven hundred page monstrosity has been both a slog and a glorious tale that has wend its way around my heart.
I finished reading it this evening, the dangling threads of the story wrapped up in a conclusion that was simultaneously complex and clever, satisfying and mystifying. At once I am curious about this vast universe that has unfolded around this story, slowly, methodically, and with scope of vision that is rare in most fiction.
Worth a Second Read?
Though I realize that I’m going to sing a refrain here that will likely be common throughout this year of re-reads: I don’t think I really remembered this book. I read it, once long ago, and in my head I know the bits and pieces of this vast story, but if you’d asked me what the story was about I think I would have misled you.
Even so, it was worth revisiting, and like many good novels, I am left pondering the film: curious if skeptical.