every book has it's time

i can finally say i've read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain.  and i'd have to say i enjoyed it.  reading it even made me climb into the attic to see if i saved my Golden Book Children's Classics.  (i didn't, simplicity clashes with nostalgia at times).  and i think what initially got me curious was the whole raft and canoe connection with a river and sense of personal adventure, having had both this summer.  there are a whole host of books that one is "supposed to have read" that i've never cracked open.  since life is short and there's nothing worse than spending time reading something you're not interested in, however, i think it best to let one of those types of classics find you if and when it wants to.  i also can't help thinking that good ol' samuel clemens wrote a lot of himself into both huck finn and tom sawyer.  smart of him to request that his real autobiography come out 100 years after his death to "make sure that people he wrote about were also safely gone" (takes the messiness out of memoir).  i've even stayed in the mark twain room at the sylvia beach hotel.  decorated in his style and filled with his novels, the room itself is a piece of history.  i thought it strange, however, that just as i was getting ready for bed i smelled wafting cigar smoke.  probably coincidence?  at any rate, just like huck's saving someone, telling the truth or having an adventure, every book has it's time too.  p.s.  if this book finds you, i hope it's one with illustrations.

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