W. E. B. Griffin
Recently, I’ve started re-reading my books. From time to time, I walk up to the bookshelf and I’m tempted to take a book off the shelf that I’ve already read.
I should say that, in general, I’m a fan of re-reading: A story that can engage you twice is at least ten times as good as a story that can engage you only once. And, hey, you begin picking up on details and connections that you might have missed in your first reading. I’ve even made it a priority to begin buying books that I’ve already read, but feel belong in my library.
When I get to feeling like re-reading, one of the first things I think about is The Princess Bride. W. E. B. Griffin didn’t write The Princess Bride. But he did write the other books I always re-read (when I say ‘always,’ I mean at least once every two years), in various series: The Brotherhood Of War Series, The Corps Series, the Honor Bound Series. . . (and there are more!)
And here’s the thing: I both love his books, and hate his style. I love the characters–in fact, if pressed, I’d have to say that I keep re-reading the books (I think this is my fourth time through the books) just to spend more time with the old friends of mine–and even, in a strange way, look up to them. It was Craig Lowell of the Brotherhood of War series who first got me drinking whiskey, and I’m thinking of taking up cigars, too.
What’s more, I love that his characters seem to always be smarter than–and, consequently, fighting against–the establishment. I think that’s an overlooked point when you hear about his novels: yes, he’s in love with the aristocratic rich and, yes, he seems to think that money solves every problem. . . But, he also knows how it feels to be trapped in a system that is, at once, calcified and counter-productive. And I know how that feels, too.
On the other hand, he embodies some of the things that really, really drive me crazy: it’s because of my prolonged (and repeated) experience with Mr. Griffin that I really, really hate internal monologue. He writes it poorly, but honesty compels me to admit that it’s not possible to write internal monologue well. Even worse, he repeats himself! That means that, the further you get into a series, the more you’re required to read the same information again.
It makes me crazy, but not enough that I can promise that this is my last time through the books.


