Experimenting Reads

I’m reading three books at the moment. All simultaneously. It’s an intriguing exercise, one that I’ve never done before. And the most interesting about it is, I’m engrossed in all of them.

“All He ever wanted” by Anita Shreve was the first of the lot I read. The book I instantly realised would be filled with captivating prose. I’ve never read Shreve before. And though, I had reservation about the plot, thinking if I’d like her story, after about five pages, my doubts had been dispelled. No matter what, I’d finish this book. The prose were simply too exquisite to discard.

Then, I borrowed “Salimar the Clown” by Salman Rushdie from my local library. The book was in hardback, pretty hefty. At first, I thought I’d finish Shreve, then only jump into Rushdie. But I’m a big Rushdie fan. His novels have fascinated me no ends. I couldn’t wait. I began Rushdie.

After just one page, I realised if Shreve’s prose was captivating, Rushdie’s were enthralling. Like all his previous novels, this one was also filled irony, humour and poetic prose. Shreve was no comparison. I was hooked to Rushdie.

But because of its size, I decided to keep Rushdie at home, carrying it would add an unwanted stone to my bag, and I’d read Rushdie during the evenings or on weekends. Shreve would travel with me during my train journeys, and I’d read the novel during my lunch break. But it was clear then, the characters in Rushdie’s novel – the ambassador, his daughter, and Salimar – they were already starting to fascinate me. I wish I could take Rushdie wherever I went.

The last of the lot came to me through the Internet. An ebook. I get bored at work, but I can’t read a book, not allowed, but I could stare at the screen, read a book and pretend I was working. Browsing through the Internet, I discovered Dostoyevsky, a Russain writer of nineteenth century. I’d always wanted to read his books, and what more, on the site I visited, there was a book I’d been recommended, called The Brothers Karamazov. Today, when I wasn’t busy, I began reading the ebook. After just a page, I became hooked to this book.

They’re all vastly different books. Shreve’s book takes place in nineteen-century New England, Rushdie’s in LA, in modern Hollywood surrounding, and Dostoyevsky’s in dreary nineteen-century Russia. While I read them, all at different times, I’m fascinated by what captivates my mind.

For instance, last night I hit a rough patch in Rushdie’s book. I arrived probably at the most boring section, and I stopped reading it, turning to TV. In the train this morning, Shreve’s book inched towards a critical point. I became engrossed. During lunch hour, an hour flew by reading Shreve’s book, before I realised my lunch was over. Dostoyevsky, meanwhile, is slowly building up.

They are all enormously different stories, different type of writings, and contain vastly different characters, but reading all of them at once, I’ve never had so much fun. I’ll probably finish Shreve first. Since it’s a small book and pages fly by when I read. After that, I’ll have to get my hands on another paperback, to read alongside the two monsters I’m reading.

It’s fun reading like this. Try it.