it doesn’t have to be your favorite book or anything. It can be any book that you find yourself thinking of with a sense of pride for having read it.
Personally, I am really proud of myself for not DNFing A Little Life and pushing forward. I read a very good chunk of that book with tears running down my face–mind you, I was reading it on my phone during lectures for the entirety of my first semester last year–and I was always on the verge of putting it down just because of the horrible content. Also, it was pretty long; too long, actually. So when I was done, I was simultaneously Heartbroken, broken (just like in general), and relieved. It was truly a feat.
An honorable mention is A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, because I swear to God I did not understand a single thing about it even 10 chapters in. Charles Dickens is too much.
Came here to say this. I did skim through some of the socioeconomic ramblings if I’m honest, that was just too tedious.
The majority of that book is tedious to be honest, especially the ball scenes and the hunting portion (way too much explanation on species and how to hunt and it just felt like unnecessary filler). I think I read it because my mom really wanted me to and thought I would like it because of the romance (which barely exists from what I remember even though it is the main plots).