The Millions, an online literary magazine, has a column that hits home, given that I am currently enmeshed in reading A Feast for Crows, book four of George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series, which is—last I checked—976 pages long.
Mark O'Connell's column, titled “The Stockholm Syndrome Theory of Long Novels,” posits that the “greatness of a novel in the mind of its readers is often alloyed with those readers’ sense of their own greatness (as readers) for having conquered it.” In a fun twist of metaphor, O'Connell deems it the “literary variant of the Stockholm syndrome phenomenon, whereby hostages experience a perverse devotion to their captors.”
I have to agree; there's a certain smug satisfaction in reading a book of excessive length. Even before reading this article, I tweeted in faux despair at having read 400+ pages, and not even being halfway done with the book.
So what book(s) of excessive length have you patted yourself on the back for finishing? Conversely, what long books will you never finish?
