The Classics, no. 1: Far from the Madding Crowd

I feel guilty that I would rather read trashy novels than a Classic. All this summer, I have read probably 50 mysteries and romances, and not one literary work of art.

That's about to change.

I am beginning my adventure with Thomas Hardy's Far from the Madding Crowd. I don't have a reason for choosing this novel; I saw the title somewhere and thought, "Hey, I should read that," so now I am.

DAY 1: I procrastinate

I picked it up this morning at a used bookstore and now it is sitting in front of me, glaring up accusingly as I visit every website in the entire world, because I am scared of the Classics.

It doesn't look too bad. It's a huge book though. Really. Gah, 477 pages! This book is too long! This book will take forever to read! THIS BOOK COULD KILL ME!

According to the blurb on the back, Far from the Madding Crowd is a "powerful novel of love and disillusion." Well, that doesn't sound so bad. The main character "is torn between the three men in her life."

Oh. That sounds sort of ... trashy.

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