If you have read Theodore Dreiser’s Sister Carrie and enjoyed it, go see There Will Be Blood.

If you are more like me and were required to read Sister Carrie TWICE in college and never made it through either time, do NOT go see There Will Be Blood.

I kind of felt like I was transported back to my Realism & Naturalism Lit Class when we were reading the “men” : Dreiser, London, Twain —and I was constantly in a state of “what the…”  It’s never that they were bad, or horribly uninteresting, it was just beyond my sense of “getting it” or just beyond my willingness to accept that people are ultimately bad.

I can’t help but cling to a sense of hope–even if it’s merely a teeny, tiny kernel.  It reminds me of one of my favorite parts of Anne Lamott’s Bird By Bird, “Novels ought to have hope…there’s no point in writing hopeless novels.  We all know we’re going to die; what’s important is the kind of men and women we are in the face of this.”

I want hope because I don’t see much point in living day in and day out without some hope.

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