I started my summer reading off this year with Tom McCarthy’s novel C, a staple of many 2010 Best of lists and a book that has found itself characterized somewhere between genius and a waste of time. Although the book was unquestionably difficult, I was consistently impressed, at times even a bit in awe, of McCarthy’s writing. As an English major, I fell in love with his highly literary style and found the book ultimately rewarding and even pleasurable despite it’s dense narrative packed page after page with technical detail and scientifiic information. I particularly enjoyed McCarthy’s ability to put readers inside the expansive and often chemically altered mind of his main character Serge Carrefax, using him as a messenger for his own stunning observations. C also passed my personal test for measuring a truly great novel when I finished the last page and knew at some point in the future I’d be willing to pick it up again, confident that I’d find something new.