I have. All the way across the room. In fact I’ve thrown two books - years apart, and for different reasons. The first was a thriller I devoured in a couple of days and stayed up late to finish. I was so completely gripped by the action that when the climax turned tragic, I lost it. I wanted to scream. Kill the hero? Noooo!!
But screaming would have frightened the baby. So I stood up and hurled the book into the wall. It was my way of slapping the author in the face for wrenching my reader’s heart out and stomping all over it.
You can tell that I have no problem with suspension of disbelief.
The second book was a thriller that degenerated into a wandering exploration of religious mania, hallucinogenic drug abuse, and the futility of seeking peace in the Middle East. The book wore me out. And when I got to the end, I turned the page and found “Questions for book groups”. Oh, how worthy. “Character A and Character B are both beautiful women who have deep convictions and do what they feel is right. Why do we like A and dislike B?”
Because A is searching for spiritual truth, and B is smuggling weapons to terrorists. Good God. Did the publisher truly think a reading group would struggle with this question, and be consciousness-raised into seeing that one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter, while discussing the book over muffins and cappuccino? Thwack.
How about you? Ever thrown a book?
14 responses so far ↓
prospectus // February 2, 2008 at 4:04 pm
Because of content? Only once. It was a book by a guy who had the answer to every problem in Ireland, and among other suggestions were “a new Cromwell” and a “people’s militia” akin to the SA in ’30s Germany - his comparison, not mine. Frightening.
Apart from that, I was lying on the sofa once reading when a rat scuttled across the floor - I hurled the book in a pure reflex reaction to skull the bugger. That was when I found out why Boston landlords specify “no pets allowed” in the lease - they provide their own.
Dan // February 2, 2008 at 4:25 pm
Oh yeah, I’ve hurled one.
I had never started a book without finishing it…until this one.
I launched it about half-way in.
It was written by a best-selling author of political/military thrillers. Although not exactly a wordsmith, his previous books were good fun and had a couple of interesting characters that I cared about. Brain candy.
It was blatantly obvious that a ghost-writer was employed to write this one, however. The best-selling author’s name was on the cover, but I am convinced that he did not write it.
What that writer did to the characters that I cared about, I can never forgive.
Ken // February 2, 2008 at 8:34 pm
Several, but the one I remember most was a science fiction novel where the author had broken Isaac Asimov ’s rule of always being fair to the reader by leaving sufficient clues for the reader to figure out who done it without resorting to the Sci-Fi cop out of an ending revelation which the reader had no way of foreseeing. Very easy to do in Sci-Fi mysteries.
Snart // February 2, 2008 at 8:39 pm
The FIRST I ever threw was “The Andromeda Strain.” Mutation? MUTATION! You cheat! Blam, against the wall. And he’s continued to do so in almost every book he’s ever written. Great books, lousy endings.
I believe I also threw the book which Dan hefted. Didn’t they also make a game from it?
Snart // February 2, 2008 at 8:55 pm
The latest launch was James Patterson’s “Honeymoon” when I was in Hawaii, looking for some mindless entertainment. This wasn’t mindless, it was drooling inanity! Pure, unadulterated s***! It didn’t touch the windowpane on its flight two storeys down to the tropical garden. (This one was also co-written. I have a bad feeling about those. Think the “Left Behind” series. Gak.)
Dan // February 2, 2008 at 9:57 pm
You got it, Snart. A game and a sequel. I believe it was called “The Search for More Money”.
susan // February 2, 2008 at 10:13 pm
Yup. Back in my student days, I finished Nineteen Eighty-Four and read the words “He loved Big Brother” and–call me a dewy-eyed optimist–I was shattered to realise there was no hope, not even in the proles. I threw the book across my dorm room, hit the window and put a hole in the screen. So immersed was I in the spirit of the book, I had a sudden spine-crawling dread that they’d get me for that.
Clearly, however, the book-throwing was due to the author’s ability to co-opt me into his fictional world.
Kate // February 3, 2008 at 12:33 am
Several dense history books written by pompous authors have seen the floor, the wall, or the table.
Catch-22 met a similar fate the first time I read it. I continued searching for logic, knowing there had to be an explanation for everything and finally got so frustrated it went flying across my bedroom. However, I quickly retrieved it and, upon finishing it, proceeded to read it again from the beginning. It is now one of my all-time favorites.
Then there’s the case of Kill Chain. Not only did I throw that across the room, I phoned the author and screamed at her at 4am. Now that was satisfying!
Snart // February 3, 2008 at 1:27 am
Kate, you threw Meg’s book?! How daring!
Oh, and in your honor, I will try Catch-22 again. I found it less than palatable the first time. I kept repeating: I get it. I don’t get it. I get it. I don’t get it. Ah, hell with it. Maybe I’ll try again.
But you must try anything by Nadine Gordimer. (No, I don’t think it’s great. Just difficult to read. Payback.)
Kate // February 3, 2008 at 3:40 am
Daring, you say? Perhaps. I needed to make sure that she knew precisely how I felt. (Yes, I realize the gesture was entirely symbolic, but it made me feel better.)
Definitely give Catch-22 a second chance. If you make it all the way through, you will be richly rewarded for your effort. However, I’m not sure that I’ll take up your recommendation…seeing as how I don’t have time for any sort of pleasure reading, I don’t especially want to spend my few free moments slogging through a difficult book.
susan // February 3, 2008 at 8:40 pm
And of course, let’s remember Dorothy Parker’s observation (which I have just now heard on the radio).
“This is not a novel to be tossed lightly aside, but to be hurled with great force.”
daveg // February 3, 2008 at 9:31 pm
Oh I’ve hefted a few books at stationary objects in my time. I guess I should say ***spoilers ahead***, as it’s usually the end of novels that really get to me.
“The Interpretation of Murder”. I mean, secret passageways? Come on!
“I Know This Much Is True.” Not a book that I’d say I enjoyed as it was so gut-wrenching, but it was truly wonderful. Which made the final chapter, where everything seems to go right for the hero right down to a sudden massive windfall of money, seem totally disconnected from the rest of the book. One of the rare occasions where I felt angry because the author was trying to cheer me up!
And Meg, if that ‘kill-the-hero’ ending was explained in letter on the author’s website that you could read after pages of ‘are you sure you want to know?’ disclaimers, I think I know the one you’re talking about!
C.D. Reimer // February 4, 2008 at 2:39 am
I was reading Stephen King’s Cell waiting for the moment when the main characters would cross over into Maine. This is Stephen King territory. You know something bad is going to happen to one of the characters. I got so upset when the girl got killed that I threw the book down and didn’t come back to it until a week later. The girl’s death was so meaningless and stupid that the death of the bad guys later on doesn’t balanced out what happened. It was one of the few occasions I wanted to write an obscene letter.
Patti // February 4, 2008 at 3:26 am
I have thrown a few books, including generations of editions of Paradise Lost, dating back to my undergrad Milton course, the covers of which all have blunt corners from being drilled across the room. It’s a bit of a problem, given that I have to teach some part of the bloody thing every year. Brilliant poet, highly obnoxious.
The other book that took flight recently was an Elizabeth George’s In Pursuit of the Proper Sinner. The heaping of misery upon misery for the already-miserable Lynley was more than I could stand.
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