Watership Down by Richard Adams, 1972

Alas, I couldn't get into it.

Cute as rabbits are, my mother is in a constant battle with the little buggers over her flower garden. Perhaps it was why I could not remain neutral while reading this story. I just couldn't see the vermin as protagonists. They're rabbits, for heaven's sake, not a band of warriors nor a nomadic tribe in the Amazon jungle! The plot plodded and the dialogue was excruciating. My mother nearly had to shoot me to put me out of my misery as I forced my eyes to scan page by page, constantly reminding myself that this was a children's literature classic and a Carnegie medal winner. I welcome anyone to lecture me on the merits of this book.