I’ve been reading Gogol’s Dead Souls for the last week or so. It generally doesn’t take me that long to get through a 400-page novel, but this one lives up to its ‘difficult’ reputation. It’s not difficult in the same way that Gravity’s Rainbow is difficult: it’s difficult in so far as it’s just so deadly bloody dull.
There are amusing moments in it, but so far it seems more like a waste of time that could have been spent on reading something else. This was made worse by the fact that I’ve just received Paul Stanley’s Face the Music: A Life Exposed and can’t wait to get into that.
I know, a Russian literary classic versus a rock ‘n’ roll autobiography should be a no brainer. The thing is, that I really don’t care how Chichikov’s story ends up, but I really need to know why Ace Frehley left Kiss.