So what I've imagined for years is wrong. I feel like I just found out Santa Claus doesn't exist. Literature isn't all Huckleberry Finn and The Grapes of Wrath like we're lead to believe from early on. There is literature that people actually read out of their own free will. Reading the short stories from this week made me realize this.
Sea Oak was a fine example of a piece of your "not-so-ordinary" literature. Zombies, strippers, and addicts-- most wouldn't classify that as literature, but it IS. Dark humored love stories about cancer are also literature (and it's not written by Shakespeare either). It may just be me, but I like reading things I can relate to. I can't always relate to Southern life in the 1900's or migrating to a farm, etc. I'm not saying I can relate to zombies either. What I can relate to is modern day living, modern day language and a sense of humor.
I really enjoyed the language of the stories. It was easy to read, intriguing and understandable. I felt as if the narrator was just telling me about his day in Sea Oak and Do Not Disturb. Another aspect that strung me along was the surprising plot. I had no idea Aunt Bernie was going to come back and raise hell after she died. I literally had to re-read the part that said she was back at home over and over again. I would have never expected zombies. Then again, I wasn't expecting stripper either when I read the title, "Sea Oak." I was expecting to read about some matured man who lost his beloved wife to cancer and now lived in solitude on the beach. However, I did read about a man who almost lost his wife to cancer. Except he hated her guts and she hated his even more. It was one of the most disturbing love stories I have read yet and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I'm much more at ease knowing that I will be reading pieces that will probably appeal much more to me than 60+ years old "literature". Bring on the reading, please!
- Ariana
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