Essay that I never couldread more of Him

Essay title: The Sun Also Rises

that I am taking this class. I am thoroughly enjoyingHemingway. The Sun Also Rises is one of the best booksI've read in quite a long time. For a while there, I was, forGod knows what reason, taking Physics and Chemistry andBiology. It is really an adventure to be back with books andwords and reading.

I am also amazed that I never couldread more of Him when it wasn't an assignment. And how isit that when I am told to write "a 3-5 page essay" I can onlycome through with two-and-a-half, but a "one-pageresponse" always wants to be twenty pages long? I finishedreading SAR around ten o'clock tonight. I could have takenit all in one big gulp when I began a week ago, but I couldn'tdo that. It wanted me to bring it out slowly, so I often foundmyself reading five or ten pages and laying it aside to absorbwithout engulfing. A man gets used to reading Star Wars andpulp fiction and New York Times Bestsellers and forgetswhat literature is until it slaps him in the face.

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This book waswritten, not churned out or word-processed. Again, Ithoroughly enjoyed reading. I never noticed it until it wasbrought up in class, maybe because it wasn't a point for mein In Our Time, but He doesn't often enough creditquotations with, ",he said," or, ",said Brett," or, ",Billreplied.

" In SAR it stood and called attention to itself. Iwasn't particularly bothered by His not telling me who saidwhat, but it was very…pointed. I first noticed around thehundredth page or so.

Then I realized I couldn't keep trackof who was speaking. By not dwelling on it, though, sort of(hate to say this) accepting it, I managed to assign speech towhomever I felt was speaking. Gradually I came to enjoy it,in another plane of reading, figuring out from whom wordswere originating. To not notice it, as if it were one of thoseannoying 3-D posters that you can't see until you make aconcerted effort not to try and see, became simple – muchlike those 3-D pictures are once you know what not to lookfor.

(I abhor ending sentences with prepositions…) His nottelling was heightening to the story.

It made things.

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