After years of feeling intimidated by this book, I finally felt I was in a place where I wanted to pick up this book and give it a try. My grandmother loved this book and toward the end of her life, we connected a bit through books. I regret not picking up Don Quixote in her lifetime, but I’m glad I didn’t just say ‘oh well’ and move on. 

 

His mind having been taken over by the many worlds of literature, Don Quixote deems himself knight-errant and sets off in search of quests of his own. Sancho Panza, his loyal squire, accompanies him. The two of them embark on many adventures. 

 

I realized very quickly that Don Quixote is not the dueling epic I assumed it to be. What I found, I enjoyed far more. It’s a story of madness, shall we say, and disillusion, but there is something very relatable in that in the modern day. Haven’t most of us picked up a book as a form of escapism? Don’t readers at some point wish they could get lost in a literary world? In that regard, I found Cervantes to be ahead of his time. That said, it’s also very much a classic, and a wordy one at that. 

 

Though I took my time with this book, I often felt that the scenes were dragging on much longer than they needed to, but I suppose that’s the curse of being used to modern books. Still, I thoroughly enjoyed this book and soaked in so many of the passages. I also cherished getting to experience a piece of my grandmother in a way.