I'm reading The Algebraist, and so far enjoying it muchly.

Yay, Banksian lurve! (Which, you know, usually involves glanding yourself to get nasty with some extremely improbable species, but still.)

I just finished The Algebraist a few weeks ago, and I started it last summer. I enjoyed it, but just could not get into it until the last 150 pages or so.

Fortunately, I've been getting home so late recently (and waking up early b/c of summer hours) that I can only manage about 20 pages or so before I fall asleep, so a slow read is just about perfect. I think a page-turner might kill me.

I like it, but it's not like Anansi Boys where I not only couldn't wait to get back to the book, but have fond memories of sitting in my car reading it on my lunch hour.

Brings up a good question:

What was your most pleasurable reading experience?

For me it would either be slounging around my bedroom in my early teens with a just-found used copy of Swords Against Wizardry by Fritz Leiber or temping at the Harvard Business School and reading all of One Hundred Years of Solitude at my desk and getting paid for it. (It was very very slow that month and they didn't mind.)

Wow, they're all so different. Because it's a good experience having some nice food and an old favorite...it's great when you find something new that arranges your brain, and then there are those kind that when you put them down you feel like you've been somewhere, like coming out of the movies can sometimes be.

Jane Eyre and The Lord of the Rings were both books that pulled me into them entirely when I first read them. I think the age I read them at (about twelve or so) was crucial. They were the type of books that my parents would have to take off me and hide so I'd sleep. And they still give me pleasure every time I read them, which not every book I loved at that age does.

What was your most pleasurable reading experience?

I'm not sure how to answer that. I mean, define?

Because my book collection contains a lot of reading material that is pleasurable, but not in the sense I think you mean. To be vague.

Either sitting in the car at a lakeside park reading Me Talk Pretty One Day with the slow build funny that left me first smiling, then grinning, then by the end of the book laughing so hard I thought I was going to puke, or that point in Anansi Boys where I realized I was spending all the time I wasn't reading it casting it.

(Current mental cast list: Chiwetel Ejiofor, Mos Def, and Colette Brown. It turns out to be a hard movie to cast.)

I remember being sucked into LotR the first time I read it (I had to finish it ASAP, and did manage to finish it in 10 days). One of my most fun reading nights that I remember just enjoying as I was experiencing it was one Saturday night during my freshman year of college, when my roommate was gone for the weekend and I had the room to myself, so I put on a tape of some classical piano pieces, curled up on my roommate's easy chair that I didn't feel comfortable using if she was around (even though she gave her OK), and wallowed in King's The Stand. A very fun break from studying, more so than any barhopping I could have done instead.

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, in all media. It's the sort of book for which I'd have created fandom. It so needed it. I read it around people who loved it, so it was a very interactive experience. And I've read them an assload of times by now. And forced other people to read them too. The Phantom Tollbooth--it's sort of a proto HGttG, for kids, with a moral. Obvious morals, but not heavy handed. I wish I'd had someone to interact with about it while I read it the first time, someone to go to with all my "Oh! Cool!" moments, of which there were quite a few.

Hmm. What else. Anansi Boys, distractingly so. I don't remember having nostalgia for the process of reading a book before. Especially since I was in my car during lunch in hot Simi parking lots.

Pride and Prejudice was my favourite book required for school. I'm seeing a trend--the ability to talk about it during and shortly after the read of a good book really heightens the experience.

There's a Nalo Hopkinson edited anthology...Mojo Rising, perhaps, about magic in the African diaspora, that was a series of stories that were both familiar and fantastic, and of a really consistent high quality. Many "sit back and nod" moments there.

I clearly remember reading Lord of the Rings on a car trip to the Lake District and Scotland, and deciding to memorise all the poetry. By chanting it out loud. I enjoyed myself, but I can't speak for my parents.

The Spy Who Came In From The Cold was exciting for meta reasons. I was 9 or so, and my grade school teacher saw me being bored because I'd read all the books in the classroom. So she brought this in from home. I'd been raiding my parents' bookshelves for longer than made sense, so it wasn't my first grownup book. But it was my first grownup book given to me to read by a grownup.

Reading The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test in the lounge car of the Capitol Limited -- it was an overnight train so there was absolutely nothing to distract or interrupt me, and I think Wolfe's style gave me a contact high. I've never reread it, which is odd for me, but I know I'm not going to recapture that extremely trippy experience.

Most of my favorite books are associated with all-nighters, which are fun in their way, but while the reading part is pleasurable, I'm not sure the exhaustion is. I think it took me two very long nights to finish The Prodigal Woman, but since I'm usually pretty plot-focused it was kind of a revelation for me to love a character as much as I adore Leda.

Oh, I will steal from ita and mention Hitchhikers. It was a family thing for me -- we started listening to the radio series on NPR and immediately got the book. So I associate the first book with my brother fussing to record the show onto cassettes, and my parents on the couch listening, and me in the battered 70's armchair, reading along with the show (before the plots start to diverge completely). I was... jeez, 8 at the time? So it was a few years before I had friends who knew what the hell I kept going on about.