Well, Ann, this is The Book I Are:
You’re The Great Gatsby!
by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Having grown up in immense wealth and privilege, the world is truly at
your doorstep. Instead of reveling in this life of luxury, however, you spend most of
your time mooning over a failed romance. The object of your affection is all but
worthless–a frivolous liar–but it matters not to you. You can paint any image of the
past you want and make it seem real. If you were a color of fishing boat light, you
would be green.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
here’s me:
You’re Love in the Time of Cholera!
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the one hand, you’ve loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff could get you killed.
So true, so true. Misty denied me, so I’m spending my time sleeping my life away. Alas… So tragic…
I took it again, for kicks, and also because You have failed to post anything else.
Here’s my new one:
You’re Lolita!
by Vladimir Nabokov
Considered by most to be depraved and immoral, you are obsessed with sex. What really tantalizes you is that which deviates from societal standards in every way, though you admit that this probably isn’t the best and you’re not sure what causes this desire. Nonetheless, you’ve done some pretty nefarious things in your life, and probably gotten caught for them. The names have been changed, but the problems are real. Please stay away from children.
My, my… this thing knows me better than I know myself. 14 months, 12 for good behavior… You’d think I’d have learned my lesson from the experience of others…
Ah well. I am both depraved and immoral. And that, Misty, is why you like me. I have a strong feeling that you are my forbidden love… And i will do whatever nefarious things I need to do to quench this desire…
You should post again, soon, before I take this quiz again.
There was one night when we all went around the table and shared our all-time favorite books and why. This was when I was in grad school over a bottle of wine. My all-time favorite book is A Farewell to Arms, I said, because it is beautiful, simple, and something of an epic. The narrator is a bastard, his lover is a dipshit, and yet, by the time you get to the end of the novel, the curtain falls as if it’s the last act of a Greek tragedy. It’s visceral–you can feel it in the pit of your stomach.
Our favorite books were so wildly different. The Symposium was a favorite, as was Go Down Moses and Underworld. Another favorite book was Lolita. Lolita because it resonates–Nabokov, to Susan, took one of the most taboo subjects–pedophilia–and made it beautiful. I picked it up last summer to see what it was about and had a hard time reading it. The way the narrator tried to rationalize his actions and predilections really pissed me off. So I ended up looking up the plot on the internet and called it a day.
Yeah…
I took a “Novel Film” class in College, and each week we’d read a novel, discuss, and then watch the film.
(The Shining, Kill a Mockingbird, One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest)
And one week was Lolita.
And then we watched the Kubrick version.
And it’s so… interesting.
The way he rationalizes what he’s doing… Yeah, you’re right. And to put yourself into that headspace…
The film, though, like anything Kubrick, is a trip, a blur, and an event. Peter Sellers steals it, as he would always do… But man.
Lolita is considered great because its Nabokov’s love affair with the english language.
I think it’s a little overstated, there.
And that’s the kind of classes I took in college. Why? Because math was hard. So I became a film major. Eat that, higher education.
Yeah… did this quiz just call me a woman? That couldnt be right, I mean come on…
You’re Mrs. Dalloway!
by Virginia Woolf
Your life seems utterly bland and normal to the casual observer, but inside you are churning with a million tensions and worries. The company you surround yourself with may be shallow, but their effects upon your reality are tremendously deep. To stay above water, you must try to act like nothing’s wrong, but you know that the truth is catching up with you. You’re not crazy, you’re just a little unwell. But no doctor can help you now.
You’re The Sound and the Fury!
by William Faulkner
Strong-willed but deeply confused, you are trying to come to grips with a major crisis in your life. You can see many different perspectives on the issue, but you’re mostly overwhelmed with despair at what you’ve lost. People often have a hard time understanding you, but they have some vague sense that you must be brilliant anyway. Ultimately, you signify nothing.
Misty –
I’ll be in OKC this weekend, the weekend of the 21st. I’ll give you a call when I’m around town…
I know it’s been forever since we exchanged words. I am a terrible friend! I am currently moving in with long term boyfriend, possibly moving to Tulsa in the next year, traveling back to Dublin to visit my sister during her Vienna Studies program in November…(I tried calling you the other weekend, but I don’t have your current digits…) Anyways – took the test. I am
Compassion Fatigued
by Susan Moeller.
“You used to care, but now it’s just getting too difficult. You cared about the plight of people in lands near and far, but now the media has bombarded you with images of suffering to the point that you just don’t have the energy to go on. You’ve become cold and heartless, as though you’d lived in New York City for a year or so. But you stand as a serious example to all others that they should turn off their TV sets and start caring again.”
It’s pretty spot on, except I lived in London instead of NYC and just don’t trust a government who sends spies into hippie festivals in the middle of nowhere Oregon…
Tulsa!? We definitely need to catch up. And no, you’re not a bad friend since I’m just as culpable for the lack of communication thing–if you’re a bad friend, then I’m a bad friend, and I refuse to believe that I’m a bad friend!
I would be “The Wealth of Nations” by Adam Smith. Capitalism to the core, I guess.