Kevin Drum writes about books that he couldn't finish. I have a few, and they include:
- Joyce: Ulysses
- Pynchon: The Crying Of Lot 49
- Eliot: Middlemarch
- Faulkner: Light In August
- Vonnegut: Breakfast of Champions
Ulysses is obvious; nobody finishes that thing. I couldn't get into Lot 49. The writing in Middlemarch just crushed me. Light In August... I dunno, too slow. And I don't remember anything about BoC except that it put me off Vonnegut for a decade.
You?

