LIFE IS AN STD, ALWAYS FATAL (paraphrased from the New York Times)

How hard do you like to work when reading a book?

I don't like to work at all.  I read books for entertainment, and when someone reads my work, I want them to be entertained.

To me, writing is like engineering a roller coaster or dancing ballet.  If the audience can see you sweat, you've gone wrong.  The performance must look as effortless and be as thrilling as magic.

But why do other people read books?  Because the last major free-standing book review in the country doesn't seem to have the same reading/writing philosophy as I do.  

I live near Washington, D.C., which recently got rid of its Sunday book review section.  So, I've been reading the New York Times Sunday review more faithfully.  

The Times review is A LOT different from the Post's Book World.  I disliked some of those differences as a teenager but like them now; Times reviewers are more likely to use bold language, be unequivical in their judgments, give bad reviews.  But one of my dislikes still holds up; the Times reviewers also tend to like more cerebral books.  Books that, to me, don't sound like any fun- that don't sound enchanting.

Example: in a review about Lowboy, a book about a schizophrenic teenager, the reviewer says,

"One of the novel's many pleasures is just going along: putting yourself fully in the hands of the story and its author, being drawn in, gradually immersed, making connections, appreciating those seeds as they bloom into the tale's developing complexity, danger and tragedy.  By the time it all falls into place, the reader is long hooked and turning back is not an option."

This is from a favorable review, for a supposedly exciting book.  But STILL, the reviewer wants to be tricked into reading it, into liking it?  

I also like to give myself over the writer and go into a kind of waking dream- that's what's so fun about reading!  But being gradually immersed, consciously making connections, appreciating the novel as you're reading it: those joys sound to me like an English major making the best of assigned reading, not a reader lost in a new world.  (I've been an English major, so I know ;) ).

Where's the joy?