I've recently finished some books.
Fahrenheit 451, which I found to be fantastic. This is definitely a cut above 1984 and Brave New World for me. For one, I think its pathos is fantastic. Whereas the former two works primarily concern themselves with building their world, this one populates it too. Guy is a great protagonist and not just a tool to "experience" the setting as an audience stand-in. I believe this one has aged a lot better than its counterparts, be it through the repressive system that was instated by the populace and not the state or the self-dumbing down through a constant influx of media to the point of becoming numb. Sure, we don't have any screen walls but instead screens on the go to constantly noise-humor us and the parasocial relationships that these characters have with their screen families aren't too different from YouTube and OnlyFans addicts. Plus, there is so much quotable stuff in this.
"It didn't come from the Government down. There was no dictum, no declaration, no censorship, to start with, no! Technology, mass exploitation, and minority pressure carried the trick... Today, thanks to them, you can stay happy all the time, you are allowed to read comics."
White Nights, by Dostojewsky. This one is a romance-esque novel about a young man in Petersburg finding the girl of his dreams in a moment when anyone could suffice. It's only 100 or so pages long and not particularly worth it or enlightening or interesting. There's a good part here or there but by large, the long monologues of corn don't substitute for the lack of engaging characters or plot. What is of note is that I say "romance-esque" because its cleverest part is that it's not so much a love story but rather a story of loneliness of two people who, not having anyone in their lives, will settle for the next best person in what they conceive to be love but they're more in love with being in love itself than each other. Clever premise that may be but I feel like a poem could have equally gotten that idea across without making me read 100 pages for that.
The Reader, which I found to be rather similar to No Longer Human, except we follow a German teenage boy who has sex with a woman in her 30s who is very clearly not society-compatible in terms of wiring of emotional intelligence. It is a pretty engrossing read for the most part that throws some hard-hitting curve balls at you but I found the chronicling of these two psychologically broken people to be a lot more engaging than the main point of the novel, which focuses more on their "romance" and the morality questions of the legal system. It's like someone took a rather hackneyed premise and wrote a rather good psychological breakdown around its characters, but at the end you're still left with the less-than-impressive premise question.
The Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde And Other Stories is a book I've had for years but never touched. It's also the only one I read in English rather than German ever since my book-reading mania started. I feel like I have a glimpse into Robert Louis Stevenson now, especially considering the religious undertones (or overtones?) of these stories but it's more entertainment than intellectual literature. Which is fine in its own and I did have some fun but I'll make sure to read German translations of books in the future as I found the 19th century English with Scottish loanwords to be hard to get through, one of these stories being entirely in Scottish and therefore quasi-unreadable. As for the stories themselves, I like that they're quite varied and the man had some interesting ideas although one can tell that the dime novel format has its influence on page-filling mechanisms like regularly dedicating more than half a page to scenery description.
And finally,
The Stranger. Interestingly, I get more out of the first person narrative of the quasi-psychopath protagonist who follows a very rational, emotionless world view through no fault of his own and more through happenstance, gets the short end of the stick as society now gets to evaluate him and doesn't get anything right than what the novel is supposedly about. The incompatability of the justice system with neurodivergent people or those who can't express themselves properly is something I've seen firsthand and this novel does a great job of giving society a mirror of not only the people it regularly treads over but also itself. Alas, the key takeaway here is supposed to be some existentialist philosophizing of the absurdism of life and that feels downright uninteresting to me.