I read a lot of books. Not a ridiculous quantity, like my sister, but a lot. I also make a lot of spreadsheets. Not a ridiculous quantity, like my dad, but a lot. Putting those two aspects of my nature together, I can tell you things like:
- I read an average of 32.7 books a year.
- About a quarter of those will be fiction.
- I also give up on an average of 6.9 books every year.
- In the last 5 years, I have given 45 books a rating of 5 out of 5. That’s 27% of all the books I’ve read.
- Only 1 book in 202 has scored 1 out of 5. Most of the books in this category I don’t finish, and therefore don’t score. This one I finished, and it was irritatingly bad. It was by Jeffrey Archer.
Every now and again I read a book that defies my rating scheme. If I was a different sort of person, a more devil-may-care sort of person, then I’d break my 5-point rating for books like this.
This week I read such a book, after finding out that Alastair Humphreys reads it every year: Man’s Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl. Continue reading “Victor Frankl and Man’s Search for Meaning”