I have never, ever enjoyed reading Charles Dickens. As someone who started out as a Literature major in college, this often put me at odds with the required coursework and reading expected of young book nerds. I simply cannot find a way to rally my brain cells into proper enough order to get through more than a chapter at a time. And retaining that info? Fuhgeddaboudit. Sparknotes saved my attention-deficient brain on multiple occasions when Dickens brought his moor-meditating ass to the table.
I labored through Great Expectations. I spent countless minutes that felt like hours that felt like months mired in the tiresome diegesis of Oliver Twist.