The last time I read a Nicholas Sparks novel was during my freshman year in college. The university’s library has always been refuge for me, but when I discovered that it also housed a variety of fiction books it became a little bit of heaven. I borrowed books every week and most of it were Sparks’ novels.
It was a two-week marathon of love stories with heartbreaking tragedies; eventually this plot grew familiar that I can already guess who would die or be involved in an accident. The love scenes got too descriptive for me, so after a month I stopped reading his novels. It turned around last week because of much-needed break from all the deep and serious stuff that I’ve been reading. When a colleague/friend offered me to lend her copy of The Longest Ride, I accepted with the thought that giddy or kilig novels can be a good break.
Surprisingly, I liked it! Let’s skip the summary because I’m not good at it and you can always check it online or in Goodreads. I actually missed writing book reviews so I decided to do this again with novels that captured a part of me.
For The Longest Ride, what caught my heart was the way that Sparks was able to stitch the element of art in it. Everything about art seems to get me nowadays. It made me realize that I don’t know much about the classical artists or even the modern ones. It was surprising to know how much money a painting can cost and collecting art can be laborious task to do. But my heart melted when it was used to depict Ira and Ruth’s relationship. (Quotes from the book will follow. If you don’t want to be spoiled, please skip skip skip the images).
The beauty of conversation was also present between Sophia and Luke. In a world that always feels rushed, the characters in this book moves in a slower way. The focus was more on how they started to trust and be honest with one another. It’s also a plus that the love scenes aren’t descriptive. They made love; that’s it. Let’s-move-on-to-the-next-part kind of narrative. (For a person who’s been avoiding these kind of images in her head, this is important. Decided to skip watching the movie adaptation because we all know that Hollywood can twist stories).
When I finished reading the novel, I asked my colleague if I can just buy it from her. I have this weird attachment to the book that I held and read (and eventually liked), that’s why buying my own was only second option. She agreed to give it to me instead! She. Gave. It. To. Me. Oh the joys of being a bookworm!