Reading Pretentiously

Yeah. You know the type. A step removed from Bohemians, like us only more… ironic.
You know the stereotypes. They like things far removed from the mainstream, dress halfway in this decade and halfway in another, and they consume the souls of baby Pugs for sustenance (THE POOR PUPPIES!). Okay, I made that last one up.
What’s the difference between hipsters and bohemians? Well, I like my mainstream shit, and Bohemians tend towards the ARTISTICALLY and IDEOLOGICALLY pretentious, rather than just wholesale pretention. For an excellent summary of my brand of Bohemianism, watch RENT sometime.
I read books most others would flat out ignore, either for being long-winded and/or confusing, old, or because they are overtly classical, with no real thought given to whether I ever actually enjoy the reading or not. It’s something to do, so I do it. I am currently slogging my way through Plato’s “Republic”, HG Wells’ “The Invisible Man’, and H. Rider Haggard’s “King Solomon’s Mines”. I read Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” a few weeks ago, mostly for something to do.
I read pretentiously. But here’s where I use “irony” correctly.
Despite not planning on nor attempting to enjoy Dracula, reading it out of pure boredom, I ended up enjoying it much more than I would have otherwise. It actually was ironic, because when I tried to read it before with the aim of appreciating it as a classic, I made it about a third of the way through and then hurled it onto my bed in a tired disgust. Only when I read it, not really caring about the content, just that it was old, long, and a time sink, did I come to be gripped by the book and the story it presented.
So obviously I snapped up more old public domain works and continued reading along.
And I have a HUGE list to get through.
Read on. Read ironically, read pretentiously, and be ready to be surprised!


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