I'll kick things off, then, shall I?
One of the reasons Brent and I decided to start off "light" with
The Princess Bride as opposed to something more "challenging" has a lot to do with the mass appeal factor. But a lot of people (talking about specific, faceless masses here, not forum members) think that if something is "fluff" it can't be intelligently dissected and discussed. I firmly disagree.
I've read
The Princess Bride many times prior to this, and have always found it a delightful read. I've never bothered to look at it as anything more than an entertaining story. However, when reading it again with the specific intent to circumvent my standard opinions of it, I found a lot to be excited about.
I will be the first to publically embarass myself and admit that for years, I interpreted the text literally. and I mean LITERALLY. As in, I believed that it truly was an abridged version of the "classic" novel written by S. Morgenstern. There is, of course,
no such person. I happened upon this discovery only within the last year, and only when discussing the book with a friend. I blame this on
The Princess Bride being one of my "mind-off" books. For someone who spent much of her education and portions of her career reading books analytically, it was nice every now and then to read a book with your brain shut off, and simply enjoy the story for itself. Or, you know, it could be that I'm a lot less intelligent than I claim to be!
The first 29 pages of the book appear to have very little to do with the story at all. Goldman talks about his childhood dislike of reading and how that all changed with his illness. He talks about his family, his obese, dim-witted son and his cold, clinical wife. The infamous hunt for a copy of the book for his son, and then the horrible disappointment when his son doesn't love the book the way he does. Finally, Goldman reads the book himself and discovers why: the original version sucks! In hommage to his father, Goldman decides to revamp the whole thing, and publish a "good parts" version. And after pulling some strings, he manages to do it.
Only then, 29 pages later, does the "story" begin.
Why would any author spend the first 29 pages of his book talking about things other than the story? My answer? He wouldn't. And he doesn't.
This opening is not billed as an introduction. The book simply starts. This opening IS the story, as much as what happens to Buttercup and Wesley and all the rest. There are two stories in this book; they interweave, and often parallell.
I've got an awful lot more to say, but I'm going to take a quick break and give my fingers a rest.