I finished reading The Crucible yesterday. It's a play so I was able to read it much faster than The Scarlet Letter. (Thank goodness.) I didn't absolutely hate it, but I'm not going to recommend you read it unless you're like me and reading ahead for an English class. Next book is The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane about the American Civil War. Is it a snorefest? We shall see.
Since I had to check out Red Badge from the library this morning, I started Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury last night.
I love it and I'm barely 50 pages in. I think that's a good sign.
Here's an excerpt I found really profound:
They walked the rest of the way in silence, hers thoughtful, his a kind of clenching and uncomfortable silence in which he shot her accusing glances. When they reached her house all its lights were blazing.
“What’s going on?” Montag had rarely seen that many house lights.
“Oh, just my mother and father and uncle sitting around, talking. It’s like being a pedestrian, only rarer. My uncle was arrested another time — did I tell you? — for being a pedestrian, Oh, we’re most peculiar.”
“But what do you talk about?”
She laughed at this. “Good night!” She started up her walk. Then she seemed to remember something and came back to look at him with wonder and curiosity. “Are you happy?” she said.
“Am I what?” he cried.
But she was gone — running in the moonlight.
The rest you can read yourself!
See you later, alligators.