Wednesday 29 January 2014

On Faulks and High Expectations | Wednesday Reads


It's highly unlikely that you're aware of what my favourite novel is. Well, it's 'Birdsong' by Sebastian Faulks, closely followed by 'Wuthering Heights' or 'Looking for Alaska' for anyone who wanted to know. I've found, when talking to people about their favourite books, or favourite authors, that they come to have certain expectations of said authors and this has the effect of either enhancing the reading experience, or a feeling of being let down by an author trusted with giving you an enjoyable reading experience. 

I'm about to tuck into Charlotte Grey by Faulks this week, and I'm a touch nervous about it. It comes back to having so much love for Birdsong that I'm scared Charlotte Grey won't live up to the expectations Faulks has given me. I want, so badly, for every Faulks novel to give as much enjoyment as Birdsong did but at the same time I'm 100% certain nothing will overtake Birdsong as my favourite novel, so this got me thinking is enjoying book necessarily the same as loving a book, and do certain components appear in one feeling and not another? 

Birdsong has, for a reason I can' pin down, become a big part of my life. I'm not going to be cliche and say it's the book that defines me or whatever, cause I don't really believe in the idea of a book being definitive of someone. However, it is a book I love, adore and admire. I enjoyed reading it so much that when I go back to it, which I often do if I'm feeling a bit tired of reading and am in a bit of a slump, I get the same excited, nervous feeling I got the first time. So much for not being cliche.

Anyway, I first read Birdsong a couple of years ago when I studied it for my A2 English Lit exam and also for my AS retake. It was the first book I've studied to that extent whilst enjoying it. That was the first clue for me as to how much the book would come to mean to me. If you can tear a book limb from limb with analysis, find all it's faults and still love it then you're on to a winner. I also was fully aware when reading it that the parts set in the 1970's I hated. I didn't enjoy them at all, I felt they interrupted the story and were completely unnecessary. But I still closed the book at the end of the story and loved it. Another clue. 

I can't really explain what I love so much about Birdsong. Faulks' use of language is exquisite, the characters are perfectly constructed and the story is brilliantly told. However, I think when a book becomes your favourite, and you become somewhat emotionally attached to it, it's more than the linguistic techniques, or the character development or any of the jargon-y terms your English teachers use. There's something else in the book that is in play that makes you fall in love with it, and I think it's a very personal thing. It's something you find in it that no one else can find. 

It's for that reason that I believe, once you've found that favourite book, the book that is something a little more to you than the others, it doesn't matter what else you read from that author, even if it's a literary masterpiece, it's not the same. Enjoying a book for it's literary qualities, and even just for enjoyments sake is not the same as what you get out of reading your favourite book. It's for that reason that Faulks isn't necessarily my favourite author, I can't decide that yet, although he is definitely the author of my favourite book. It's for this reason also that I refuse to hold Faulks to the expectations I should have after feeling the way I do about Birdsong. 

I know Charlotte Gray, A Week In December or Human Traces won't have the same feeling as Birdsong did so I won't expect that or it will just ruin books that I could still really enjoy. 

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