I haven’t been this excited about reading a book since last year when I read You by Caroline Kepnes (which–spoiler alert–will be making an appearance one of these months simply because I loved it so much and my life will have changed so much since the last read that it’ll be an entirely new experience).
High Fidelity a title that I’d heard in passing since I can remember. Most of these people were referring to the film adaptation starring John Cusack (on of my favorite actors); finally, it appeared on Netflix sometime at the end of last year and I watched it and fell in love with it.
Normally I’ll buy myself a few books as a Christmas gift, and this year I decided to buy a few that I had been wanting for a while or realized I wanted recently. High Fidelity by Jack Hornby was one of those books. I was fidgeting with excitement to finally read this book once it landed on my doorstep in its brown little package. In fact, I was so excited to read this book that I couldn’t wait til February to start reading it.
My plan was originally to just allot a full month to reading one book and to not let any other books interfere with that space, but I gotta say, nothing is better than getting on a reading roll. Nothing is more enthralling and rapturous as falling in love again, falling in love with reading, with stories, with writing.
As I write this article, it is January 28th, the day I finished High Fidelity, and it’s been just one week since I finished Big Magic. I could not–would not–put this book down. For a great number of personal reasons, I related to this book on a fairly deep level and the main character Rob, which made the reading experience all the better.
We, as readers, tend to read in such a way naturally. We want to find connections as be as involved in a story as we possibly can. That’s what makes some stories exciting and other ones dull. If we can’t connect to a book, see ourselves in it in some way, it often times becomes difficult to invest time in it and find joy in the task. To be completely honest, Big Magic–while it was a great book–was one that I found myself peddling through in certain areas. That was a book that I read moreso because I tasked myself with reading it. I didn’t finish it because I absolutely had to know more. I could have very well stopped in the middle and been moderately satisfied with it, but I’m glad that I didn’t stop. High Fidelity, on the other hand, was very much one of those books that I found irresistible in every way.
Bookends Review 