This isn’t a list of books I hate, which would be led by Gregory Maguire’s Wicked. (I loved the musical, but there was not one thing I liked about that book–and I finished it just to see if there would be.)
No, this is a list of books that are widely agreed to be excellent, and I just don’t care.
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. I’ve loathed every adaptation I’ve seen, and I only read the book after it was suggested that I might like it better if I read it as a horror story, rather than as a romance. I didn’t.
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I just can’t get into it, and I’ve tried more than once. I also tried Tender Is The Night with the same result. For my money, Fitzgerald–like Hemingway–is better at short stories. I’ll pass on the movie–particularly since I also don’t love Baz Luhrmann’s work. (Fun fact: If you want to excerpt, the Fitzgerald estate will only approve it if you have pulled your selection from specific editions, which they will identify by ISBN.)
Play It As It Lays by Joan Didion. I do not get the appeal of this book. I didn’t get it when I first encountered it in college, and I didn’t get it several years ago when I re-read it after loving The Year of Magical Thinking.
What about you? What books mystify you with their acclaim?