Beige, flavorless oatmeal, boring, these were the words that spun circles in my brain as I read White Noise by Don DeLillo. I went in with no expectations having never heard of him or any of his work, though through some research I discovered that he is considered a literary genius of the 20th century. I honestly don’t see it. Nothing could have prepared me for the level of eye droopage I would suffer in reading this book over the course of a week and half. My sole motivation in finishing was really to have it read by the time my book club meeting came around, that was it. Nothing sustained me, nothing about this story kept me going. It was through sheer force of will that I managed to finish at all.
When I find the time outside of writing and reading I enjoy watching films and television – like most other humans. If I get lucky I am able to find sweet stories told through film dealing with a literary plot line. I saw the trailer for this film about a month ago and I have been eagerly waiting until it was available on Netflix. I watched it the other night and I wasn’t disappointed.
It is an incredibly lovely story dealing with books, chance encounters, book clubs, and WWII. Needless to say this hit a lot of my sweet spots. The aesthetic of anything in the 1940s era I simply adore. The clothes, the customs, the mannerisms, I find it all fascinating. Additionally, I love stories in this time period that deal with strong women as this was one of the first times in history that women were beginning to make their place in the world in large numbers due to the men lost at war.