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I've just read all thirty-three pages of this thread. It's almost like I'm trying to avoid studying :P
A hotch-potch of books I didn't like that I've read or tried to read in the last few years:
1. The Crimson Petal and the White: I laughed, I wept. Mostly I laughed. I got about 150 pages in before I couldn't take any more and stopped. The descriptions of genitalia were hilarious. I will never, ever forget reading about "his swaddled penis". I genuinely thought the prose was verging on purple and the story didn't grab me, so I stopped.
2. A Visit from the Goon Squad: achingly self-aware, hipster-y, angsty nonsense. Totally self-indulgent. Again, I admit to not finishing this one (I made my New Year's resolution last year to not keep reading books when I don't like them ) but I just couldn't stand the characters, or the writing, or anything about it. I hear there's a powerpoint chapter. Pretty glad I missed that.
3. Atonement: the book that prompted me to make the above resolution. I hated it. I hated everything about it. I hated the writing, I hated the characters, I particularly hated the story. I read it all in one day and I seethed at it for hours afterwards. My poor boyfriend had to listen to it all. I actually preferred the film because of one tiny change they made (which I won't spoil for anyone).
4. The Almost Moon: this book made me feel sick and is the only book I've ever put in the bin. I genuinely believe that this is an intrinsically horrible book.
5. The Hunger Games: pretty much saw these as generic dross. Was surprised by how popular they are. Not much better than Twilight, for my money.
6. One Day: I found this annoying in a similar way to "A Visit from the Goon Squad", though I made it all the way through this one. It was pretty terrible. Two generic, boring people have angst. They angst without each other, then get together and angst together. WHAT FUN.
7. The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks: I loved E. Lockhart's Ruby Oliver series but have been mostly disappointed in her other works. This was the worst. There wasn't a single redeeming feature for any character and Frankie was the sort of person I would never get tired of slapping. Grrr.
8. The Girl Who Played With Fire: any book with a list of things the protagonist bought from Ikea is not for me. I found the first one compelling despite its glaring flaws. This was a slog to finish and I'm not going to bother with the third one - it's even longer.
9. Twilight: eugh. I know it's the standard thing to hate on, but seriously, what's not to hate?
10. I actually can't think of a tenth one.
I've been sort-of fortunate in that I was never forced to read anything too horrific at school. However, that's because we didn't read a single adult novel in school until I was 17. And prior to that, we only read two "young adult" novels which read at about a nine-year old's level. Fantastic education. To be fair to my country, that's pretty much an anomaly - my boyfriend was given an extensive amount of literature to read in his last four years of high school. I just went to a crap school. In fifth year I read Hamlet and the Great Gatsby - both of which I adored. My dad was an English teacher, and my mum's degree is also in English lit, though, so I didn't suffer at all from this. I've always been a particularly avid reader, but I really feel for the people who have missed out on the pleasures of reading purely because our school took absolutely no interest in teaching about literature at all.
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