I’m currently reading The Big Crunch by Pete Hautman. Finally, after many months of lusting after and searching for it, I found a single, battered copy in a bookstore far outside my home range. I wanted it so badly, I overlooked its heinous price and dirty dust jacket. I was also poor so I had to convince my father (who generally disapproves of my spending habits) to buy it for me. It was tough love at first, but he conceded eventually.
SO. Reading it has been interesting. I think, because I have been wanting it for so long, I set my expectations so high. I can’t remember anything like this ever happening to me before. I mean, I sometimes think about what a book will be like and have, on some occasions, been wildly wrong (Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote is a good example.) But I don’t think I’ve ever risked such a high fall the way I’ve done with The Big Crunch. I’m halfway through and I keep reminding my brain to stop over-processing things so I can just enjoy the story. What I’ve read so far is strong prose about real, fleshed-out characters. The build-up is subtle, and when Boy and Girl finally collide, it’s like a punch in the gut. There is major squee. But I have this naggy feeling in the back of my head, asking me where all the epiphanies are. Agh. Expectations are a bitch. That said, I’m still enjoying this book very much.
This was a post by Kubi who is looking forward to waking up late tomorrow.