I'm going halfway through reading
Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. Just a little background of my reason
for reading it.
When I was 14, and was in love with
Sherlock Holmes, I went to a friend's house, a fellow fonder of the
detective. She told me she made a review of SH's short stories for
her homework, and showed me her Sherlock Holmes book, a translation
in Bahasa. In the shelf, however, I saw a book, thin and small, with
a soft purple cover. That book was a English simplified version of
Ivanhoe.
Needless to say, I borrowed the book
right away. My friend consented, and I read it. My English
was not very good at that time, naturally, but was enough to
understand the brave and noble character of Robin Hood and King
Richard. Thanks to the book, I've been very fond of them ever since.
But simplified version is still a simplified version. I looked for
the original, and was frightened by the size of it, not mentioning
the difficulty of its language. So for the moment I gave up and
diverted my eyes to other books easier to comsume.
Yet it is destined that I must read the
book somehow. After Robert Lancelyn Greene's Robin Hood and Dumas'
Musketeers, I am hungry for more adventurous tales, and I remember my
old bold Ivanhoe. Now, my English permits me to peruse the book
without letting the language deprive me the joy of reading it.
Besides, the words unknown to me, whether in the old English or the
modern one, enrich my vocabulary after I search their meaning.
Anyway, I'm in the 21st chapter of it,
and very impatient to finish the story. Hope the end will be as happy
as related in the simplified one.
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