Why such hostility against tragic literature?
Are you saying that you would prefer to read optimistic, inspiring literature?
Please! That stuff makes me sick! I can't stand those books with mahogany chairs, log cabins set against a background of towering snowy peaked mountains, and crackling fireplaces in a Victorian style mansion, and smiling black people with mysterious, wise, twinkling eyes that look like the eyes of a man who has been through everything and kept his head up set against light green hills and a warmly orange sun with an inspirational title that sensitive housewives gobble up like Lifetime Network Movie About Woman Who Gets Raped And Or Is Treated Badly By Stupid Evil Men But Triumphs in the End and Marries the Only Good Man on Earth and Also Delivers a Heartwarming Inspirational Message to Women and Especially Effeminate Men Who Watch Oprah Everywhere # 153,083,285,347 on their cover.
Please, for the love of God, give me Antigone, Prometheus Bound, Oedipus, Gilgamesh, Beowulf, ANY day. Keep that inspirational, uplifting, cheery, optimistic, soul stirring, heartwarming crap as far away from me as possible! Ugh! Stay away, mahogany chairs! Stay away!
Maybe some kids would like to read The Stand by Stephen King, but not this one. Personally, the only one of King's books that I could even stand was The Green Mile, and while it was sad it was ruined by the ridiculousness of a black guy having "healing powers." I mean, come on. Healing powers? Please. Unless it's mythology, I'm not too interested in that supernatural crap.
I could care less about Terry Goodkind. I hate fantasy epics. They only imitate art.
I'm not even going to do my contemporary book report. How the heck am I supposed to find a good book that was published before 1950? Much less after 1996. Jimmy Carter is the only writer who has written anything this decade that is even remotely interesting, and while I enjoyed his memoir, sometimes it truly and profoundly bored the heck out of me. But that's what you get with memoirs.
I declare that the last good book ever written was probably 1984 by George Orwell. After that, literature has gone down the drain, seriously. It's just pathetic what mass production has done to our books. We have these losers who write up fifty cheap thrillers, chillers, and romances a YEAR and they get paid tons of money.
Books were MUCH better when a guy had to painstakingly write with a PEN, that's right, a PEN, and when he could only hope to write maybe one book every year, perhaps every few years. Every book was a labor of LOVE. By God, if you didn't have anything worth writing, you just didn't waste the ink!
Technology has just completely screwed us over when it comes to art.