I took online quizzes in college, and not so much since. But someone on the Detroit Tigers forum made me do this one called, "Which book are you?". And, for some reason, I'm getting home at 11pm on a Tuesday night and deciding I needed to do it. And, for some reason, I'm totally mystified that I could answer six or seven questions and a website could spit out a response to me that was this dead-on. I'm not talking the book - Save for "A Rose for Emily," I've never read Faulkner, though I've always wanted to - but the description. Right now.
You're The Sound and the Fury!
by William Faulkner
Strong-willed but deeply confused, you are trying to come to grips
with a major crisis in your life. You can see many different perspectives on the issue,
but you're mostly overwhelmed with despair at what you've lost. People often have a hard
time understanding you, but they have some vague sense that you must be brilliant
anyway. Ultimately, you signify nothing.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
In other news, I'm frustrated and tired. Not really news, I know.
4 comments:
I'm Ulysees by James Joyce. Funny - I don't WANT to be a Greek hero, actually ...
I'm sorry you're still/again feeling frustrated and tired.
And those quizzes while only asking 6 or 7 questions, give seemingly more accurate results than many, because the answer to each question determines the next question. Maybe focus on the part where it says you must be brilliant? :)
I'm the dictionary...Is that a good thing or bad thing?
SEYTON
The queen, my lord, is dead.
MACBETH
She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Macbeth, Act V, Scene V
Sometimes I think I'm the poor player, sometimes the idiot, sometimes Macbeth, sometimes Hamlet, always signifying nothing.
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