Diving into worthwhile literature

So I trust everyone picking up this column has downed at least a few sentences of reading throughout the semester along with their shots and beer bongs. If not, gotcha! You’ve read two, or possibly three sentences by now. I’m a tricky one, aren’t I?

This, of course, means I can proclaim that my diabolical plan is working. I can taste my victory over the visual media conglomerates. I love the smell of musty paper in the morning. It smells like victory.

So today I’m wondering if attempting to coerce only the 15 percent of the Wisconsin student body that is functionally literate wasn’t a big enough goal for a high achiever like me. Getting people to do things they think they don’t want to do is one of my personal specialties, and because the whole “just reading” thing was so easy, I’m thinking I could demand even more from you guys.

I know, I know, you’re probably asking, “Where else can she go with this? What more could she want from my bloodshot eyes other than to read ‘Twilight’ before seeing the movie?”
That’s just it! I’d be a legend in the reading community if I got everyone reading something other than People for their next glimpse of Robert Lautner and Taylor Pattinson. Even two more people venturing into a used bookstore to pick up “The Grapes of Wrath” before setting it back down again in favor of a Harlequin cover is usually a cause for celebration.

I can see it now: my name in lights or, more likely, in that fancy black block print.

I thought I’d begin by giving examples of great literature as opposed to books that would probably be more useful lighting Yule log fires. The only problem is everything I consider fantastic prose could be categorized as trash by someone else. My Edward or Harry may have the last names Rochester and “Rabbit,” but I can certainly guess many other people love another set of characters with the same first names. Great books like “Franny and Zooey” and “One Hundred Years of Solitude” must have their horrible counterparts somewhere in the mounds of print...right? I was still on the cusp of giving a lecture (to no one but myself) on what makes literature grand as opposed to fantastical slop when I realized, who am I to judge?

Besides, TV slots and glossy pictures will always look way more exciting. Heaven knows I still can’t pass by a shiny commercial and not give it a once-over. So I decided not to alienate some folks to the dark side by saying something like, “‘Twilight’ is sentimental crap with a cardboard cut-out of a protagonist.” Instead, I’ll emphasize the fact that those of us who still decipher the ancient hieroglyphics known as the written word had better stick together.

At least that’s how I’ll justify reading that stuff to myself.

Think “New Moon” is the next New Testament? Tell Alex at kuskowski@wisc.edu.

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