Will I love Don Quixote?

For years, I wanted to read "Don Quixote," but the length (roughly 1,000 pages) was daunting. Then earlier this year my wife and I saw a local production of "Man of La Mancha," a musical based on the novel, and I decided to take the plunge. I am glad I did. Yes, it took a while to finish, but the story, filled with humor, moved along at a good pace. One caveat: People who know these things better than I do say some translations from the original Spanish are better than others. My translation was by John Rutherford and I… show more.

This classic text, one of the most well-known and oft-read books in the canon, was given fresh life with the recent translation by Edith Grossman. A story that is already mind-bendingly fun, dramatic, all-consuming, becomes veritably topical and current by virtue of Grossman's lively prose. So many people read the beginning of this story, or hear about the scene when Don Quixote attacks the windmills, but few venture further, and if they do, even fewer approach Book 2. That's a real pity. The story is hilarious, gripping, profound and engrossing from the first to the last page, and because the… show more.

I learned so much about spinning a good yarn from this book. The characters are fun, dramatic, and clearly flawed. How can anyone resist a half-crazy knight and his chubby sidekick who set out on the roads of Spain to defend the helpless and destroy the wicked (real or imagined)? This novel has served as a blueprint for countless novelists, including me. It stands the test of time. It's hilarious, ironic, historic, and totally captured my imagination.

I was on an extended trip to Eastern Europe, back when Eastern Europe was not such a dandy place to visit, and I found myself with nothing to read. In a used bookstore in Prague, I found a tattered paperback, translated into English, of this next pick. It was falling apart, the pages stained by coffee and God knows what else. I bought it anyway.

And over the next few weeks, I was, for the third time, blown away by words on a page, by an author’s imagination. It’s been said that Don Quixote, written around 1600, was the… show more.

I had John Rutherford’s saucy translation of this book, which had been sitting on my shelf since 2004, before finally picking it up last spring. Having grown up watching the musical on TV, I thought the book might be dull and predictable, but I was astonished to find a story about the perils of story-telling and the pleasures of reading. Even the second part was replotted mid-way by Cervantes to foil his many imitators and forgers.

I now understand why Marx and Engels, themselves a kind of Quixote/Sancho Panza pair, considered this work to be a model for how modern… show more.

Look, you’re often going to feel like life is meaningless. Maybe you’re right. But don’t give up.

Like Quixote, you have the power of your noble heart, and the wealth of your imagination. But you also have your Sancho Paza, to keep you moving practically forward. It all will likely come to a ridiculous end. But that’s okay, so long as you’re laughing at yourself along the way.

It is funny. We’re allowed to be funny. We’re supposed to laugh at ourselves and at each other.

It was a gift, a 2-inch thick, 5 lb. gift, that I had no interest in reading because everybody has already read it – the first modern “novel,” the best-selling novel of all time, etc., so it sat for years on an end table where it served two functions: it gave the room a literary cachet, and it was also a good coaster for coffee cups and such.

But then for some reason, perhaps guilt, perhaps fate, I flipped it open, read a few lines, and then laughed. I was hooked. It was fantastic, funny, and timeless – not just… show more.

There had to be a choice between this and my other favourite grand classic, Moby Dick, but for me, Cervantes just pips Melville to the post for his sheer, unutterably heartwarming and forgiving consideration of human nature. It's extraordinary how this 400+ year–old novel, one of the very first 'modern' novels has stood the test of time so resiliently, and the answer to that lies, I think in its absolute universality. We can all recognise parts of ourselves in the knight of the sorrowful countenance and his equally heroic squire, Sancho Panza because they are aspects of the same… show more.