Here we go again: this week's bestseller list from the New York Times.
Just today, my boss told me I had to read Reading Lolita in Tehran, and she gave me her copy. I've heard about the book for some time, and, of course, it's been on any number of bestseller lists. But those aren't the kind of books I usually read. Much of my reading is still from authors who have been dead for about a hundred years; I've managed to get through George Eliot but I've barely made a dent in Charles Dickens. I do like some mass market fiction, but it doesn't seem to be the stuff that shows up on bestseller lists.
Quickly perusing today's list, however, I guess I'm doing better than I thought. 1776 and The World is Flat are still on the list, both of which I've read. And Elie Wiesel's Night is on the list, which I read many years ago.
Why do I even feel I need to read books off the New York Times bestseller list? Who knows. BikeProf over at The Hobgoblin of Little Minds has a few recent posts about "good" literature, "bad" literature, and who gets to make that decision. Much food for thought.