I finished Benjamin Franklin’s Autobiography (full text) this evening. I was very surprised to find no mention of the American Revolution in any of it. I recommend the work, but not highly. The best Part is the second, in which Franklin outlines his quest for moral perfection. From Benjamin Franklin, we should learn diligence and industry, following his style to italicize abstract principles.
Immediately after finishing that work, about midnight, I picked up Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card. It is the only work of fiction I have read more than twice, perhaps the only one I’ve read more than once. I related to Ender. I want to be like him. I admire his sheer intelligence. Six hours later, I am writing this brief entry, a few dozen pages away from the wonderful climax and conclusion of the book. I never thought I could read like this, but this book begs to be read, ravenously, without pause. I hardly notice as the pages fly by. I see the rather familiar action as my own memories of reading the book blend with the memories of Andrew Wiggin. Although Ender’s Game vies for the coveted title “favorite book,” I would not recommend it to all. Young boys, certainly. Anyone remotely interested in science fiction, yes. But, like October Sky, some people will struggle to relate to it.
Now, back to the war to beat the buggers!