I Am The Cheese
by Robert Cormier
...eluded me. It made less sense than A Canticle For Leobowitz which actually did make sense after a while. I even tried to look it up online later to figure out what was the point of it and I still didn't get it.
I never get it.
Sometimes this feeling of helplessness over allusion and innuendo has the effect of making me want to go back to college, get a degree in literature or something. My educations was limited to Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision--with a major in modern languages (Fortran, Snobol, Pascal and PL/1).
I don't know why Lizzie Skurkick included it. I wish she hadn't.
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