Least Favorite Novels

Rose Mare by Steven Cockehead King. I mean, he is obviously a libshit women respecter, but this "story" reads almost like some r/Thathappened feminist fanfiction with a boring supernatural subplot and a message of "when a woman overcomes abuse by her psycho husband, she becomes a stuck up bitch". FFS she even says "uh, MEN" when a police officer calls to check if this bitch is alive and wasn't mauled to death by her ex-husband.

Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. I still suspect that I got pranked by one of the people I knew, since this is the most shallow nonsense I've ever read. I couldn't get past several first chapters and went to Wikipedia to check what it was all about. The plot of this turd is basically "writers self-insert has a crazy girl he knows, then their friend commits sudoku, they cry over him and he fucks her, he then meets another girl and they fuck, but he starts thinking that he loves crazy girl, she gets sick, he visits her in the hospital and there fucks another girl, she dies, he decides "welp, can't do much now" and confesses his love to the second girl, THE END". HOW THE FUCK THIS SHIT EVEN GOT BEYOND "SO BAD IT IS GOOD" CATEGORY?! IT IS BASICALLY "THE ROOM: ANIME VERSION"! And what sucks on top of that is that Murakami isn't that bad of a writer, he has a good book about the survivors of sarin attack in Tokyo subway and about the lives of ex-members of Osahara's cult.
 
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Fuck this shit we had to read in German class, and fuck whatever lard wrote it. I never learned a lick of German, maybe because they're fucking sick.
 
And what sucks on top of that is that Murakami isn't that bad of a writer, he has a good book about the survivors of sarin attack in Tokyo subway and about the lives of ex-members of Osahara's cult.
I second Norwegian Wood. It was my first Murakami and it took me years to give another one of his books a chance after it.

I also hated The Adventures of China Iron by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara, which I read in its original language. I went in expecting something like Lavinia by Le Guin and regretted it immediately. The main character is treated like a dog in that progressive, condescending way; nothing of substance ever happens or gets told; whenever it seems like the book might have teeth (annoying, dumb teeth, but teeth all the same), it gets scared and backs out. It gets praised for its prose, but it only annoyed me.

I couldn't finish it, but from what I've been told, it quickly devolves into very stereotypical woke/progressive/queer idiocy... in late 19th century Argentina. Godawful, annoying, overhyped book.
 
I powered though Chronicle of a Death Fortold on account of it's brevity. No such luck with either One Hundred Years Of Solitude or Love In The Time Of Cholera. Both of which I never finish because the suck all energy for reading out of you. Which was a shame because my first contact with GGM had been his quite good journalistic writings from his time in Europe.

I swear the Goethe-Institut is set up to make foreigners the world over hate learning German.
 
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I knew an old dude who loved that book even though it clearly didn't help him. He died in massive debt.
Boomers absolutely adore the most insipid self-help bullshit ever. How to Win Friends and Influence People, The Greatest Salesman in the World, Rich Dad Poor Dad, The Secret, etc. There's nothing the collective boomer soul craves more than being told how to live by some random fast talking used car salesman nigger for a nominal fee.
 
Boomers absolutely adore the most insipid self-help bullshit ever. How to Win Friends and Influence People, The Greatest Salesman in the World, Rich Dad Poor Dad, The Secret, etc. There's nothing the collective boomer soul craves more than being told how to live by some random fast talking used car salesman nigger for a nominal fee.
Maybe we could start a "least favorite nonfiction books" thread because there's a lot of them worth mocking.
 
Maybe we could start a "least favorite nonfiction books" thread because there's a lot of them worth mocking.

- Into Thin Air by John Krakauer. A book by a journo-scum about the 1996 Mt. Everest disaster. He was actually there and the book is basically propaganda for his clique he was with and against all the other groups. There's a counter book to this by Anatoli Boukreev (and his writer) who was a real mountain climber who was also there called The Climb which is much better (although written a bit worse). Boukreev and Krakauer beefed heavily up until Boukreev died climbing Annapurna because again, he was an actual mountain climber, and then Krakauer just kind of dropped the whole thing because calling a dead man a coward isn't really fair game.

- How to Win Friends and Influence People, I was told to read this when I started my career and I was shocked that the whole book read like an advertisement to some fucking course they used to do in the 40s or something. The whole book boils down to, "fake being genuine but also be genuine." It's fucking retarded. I should write a book called, "Don't be a goddamn freak: The key to success."

- Generally, any self help book can be condensed into 3 paragraphs.

- Night by Elie Wiesel has been essentially debunked as fiction despite being taught in schools as non-fiction.
 
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