I admit that for many years I subscribed to the policy that a book, any book, was always better than no book. In recent years though, I have come to believe that it is the dirty little secret of the bookselling world that some books just suck.
I once slept with a man because he gave me a copy of Murakami's The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Before you judge me, read the book. It's lyrical and seductive and changes the way you think about reality, about life.