Joking aside, this is another book that is brilliant in its simplicity. Mitch Albom is a great writer because he isn't a 'great' writer - or, at least, he isn't pretentious. A more obnoxious writer may have overloaded the very emotional material with existential banter and pseudo-intellectual observations, but instead, Albom takes a far more approachable stance. The book is told like a novel, which certainly works towards its advantage. Instead of just telling us what happened, Albom ends up being his own main character with legitimate depth. Morrie is magical, intelligent, and endearing, and his personality and dialogue seem almost too good to be true. The kicker, of course, is that they are true, or at least they certainly seem that way. I'm not going to bother researching how sincere Albom is actually being in this book because it really doesn't matter; the fact is, you can't help but be hooked in by the story. It tugs at all the heartstrings you have, even on someone as cynical as myself. I wish my writing was as gripping as this!
I still have quite a ways to go in the novel, but I think it's saying something that a book like this is wildly more interesting and readable to me than anything we've covered in class so far. I don't get caught up in books often, but Albom's got me wanting to know more. Perhaps we should re-evaluate what makes a great writer so great... Tolstoy, Fitzgerald, Faulkner, and Albom? Somehow I don't think the Art Police would like that one.
