/lit/ - Literature

this was the last book I read

I liked it

what should I read next

ITT: Books loved by most that you didn't like at all

Which is not the same as overrated, I mean you just disliked it.

Pic related

/lit/, I had to read White Noise for my A Level literature class. I didn't like the book at all, and couldn't find a reason as to why it was considered a classic.

Maybe I just grew to hate it because I also had to study it however. Can any of you convince me that the book is actually any good?

You're welcome to try.

About to read this. What should I expect?

Haven't been on /lit/ for a few months ,but I am pretty sure I rarely ever see any threads talking about White Noise by Don Delilo. Labeled as post-modernsim by most critics, White Noise is about a man and is fear of death and his conquest to search for the cure to his ailment. The way the book is structured it is like one vignette after another all with some type of dry humor or some weird mention of the human condition really was a fun read.

Just began reading Don DeLillo's White Noise and I have to say, this is becoming one of my favorite books.

I picked up Gravity's Rainbow as well because I heard that it was similar. What does /lit/ think of these two books?

Also recommend more like these?

Am I the only person who doesn't like this book?

What books were you told were amazing and then turned out to be shit?

Pic related, the cover is probably my favorite thing about it...

“We’re not here to capture an image, we’re here to maintain one. Every photograph reinforces the aura. Can you feel it, Jack. An accumulation of nameless energies.”

There was an extended silence. The main in the booth sold postcards and slides.

“Being here is a kind of spiritual surrender, We see only what the others see. The thousands who were here in the past, those who will come in the future. We’ve agreed to be part of a collective perception. This literally colors our vision. A religious experience in a way, like all tourism.”

Another silence ensued.

“They are taking pictures of taking pictures,” he said . . .

“What was the barn like before it was photographed?” he said. “What did it look like, how was it different from other barns, how was it similar to other barns? We can’t answer these questions because we’ve read the signs, seen the people snapping the pictures. We can’t get outside the aura. We’re part of the aura. We’re here, we’re now.”

He seemed immensely pleased by this.