I think I may have figured out at least a little bit of why I like Classic novels, specifically novels written in the 19th century, so much. The language. The more formal, big word, non-slang, more correct language they use. When I started reading Around the World in Eighty Days, I was under the impression that it was a more juvenile book, something you would read in early high school and maybe even before, but as I continued, I realized every page was filled with good words. Tenacity, capricious, motley, taciturn, insurmountable, commiserate, blundering, fervent, colloquy, impassable--and this is just taking a quick turn through the pages that I found all these.The book was enjoyable. Jules Verne created some great characters, funny scenarios, as well as great adventures throughout the novel. I can picture them riding an elephant through India and a snow sailboat across Nebraska. His main character, Phileas Fogg, is pretty hard to figure out. He lacks all emotion, yet he embarks upon this amazing journey on a whim. If I recall correctly, they made the book into a movie fairly recently, that is definitely something I want to see now. I am curious how they would adapt all the adventures how they would cast the characters for a movie.
As evidenced by this being book #49, you can see that I am on to my last book. And it is nonfiction. I actually started one last night that I planned to be my final book--The Cliff Walk. It is a book about a man who is a college professor who gets his pink slip in the early 90s and then cannot find a job. He ends up moving back to Maine, his home state, and doing manual labor. I thought it would be relevant for me because of the position I have been in for the last year or so--unable to find work that is on par with my education level. I got about 30 pages in and either it was too reminiscent to my feelings or just scared me too much that maybe, I too, would have to dirty my hands to make a living. No thanks. I put that down and moved on.
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