Literary Preferences Indicative of the Real Me

I’m always so surprised to learn of how people perceive me. When it comes to my taste in literature, people usually think that I’m a Jane Austen fan. I suppose I do present a composed, prim & proper front and people assume I like to read endearing British romances. Hmmm, I suppose with a title like the one on this entry, it is no wonder where people get their ideas. While I do enjoy Jane Austen movies, I suffered through Pride & Prejudice when I was forced to read it in high school. I never picked up another Austen novel. In fact, I avoid most British literature.
I prefer gritty American novels like Of Mice & Men or Grapes of Wrath by Steinbeck, The Sound & the Fury by Faulkner, or Bless the Beasts & the Children by Glendon Swarthout. One of my favorites is Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I like stark realism. In Of Mice & Men I physically ache with the depth of loneliness in the lives of the ranch hands. I can’t shake free of the layer of dirt caking the skin of all who experienced the dust bowl as described in Grapes of Wrath. I’ll never forget his image of the turtle lying helplessly on its back beside the road—unable to change the fact that it will starve to death because it is powerless to flip itself over. I enjoyed both The Sound & the Fury and Bless the Beasts & the Children because the varying perspectives of the narrators reveal their struggles coming from dysfunctional families. That is a reality that resonates with me. I suppose discussing juicy tidbits from a letter while sitting under a parasol on the well-manicured lawn of a sweeping estate or waltzing with wealthy bachelors is so far removed from my own world that I find little with which to relate.