![]() Recently, I’ve read books that prove this: Octavia E. However, I do feel comfortable assessing the quality of a text’s craft without needing to judge it exclusively on that element. Perhaps now, as a reader, I might be dismissed as being somewhat immature due to my continued preference for emotionality and catharsis rather than intricate linguistic beauty. ![]() I would have read those wild wolf slash dog books long before I understood the idea of “the canon”, back before I had educated myself as a reader and could engage with texts only on the level of plot. White Fang and The Call of the Wild are canonical novels, but though I feel like I’ve probably read at least one of them, it was definitely in the misty depths of time before puberty and what I would define as consciousness. ![]() ![]() Jack London is one of those American writers who most readers have heard of, who many readers have read but whose books haven’t really stood the critical test of time. ![]()
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