This was the book that liberated me. Until I read it, I had this strange view that if I started a book, I had to finish it. Like it was a sort of moral obligation. At p. 25, I gave myself to p. 100 to find it even remotely readable. At p. 100 I threw it to the curb. And the world didn't end.
Dara LindOkay. If I’m 15 percent of the way through A Confederacy of Dunces, and more than 15 percent of the way to permanently damaging my eyes from rolling them so frequently, should I give up? Or does it get more pleasant or insightful?