When I was a teenager, my mom bought me a, what seemed to me at the time, a massive two tome book. I gave it a shot, but eventually gave up. Figures it just wasn't for me

A few years later, I gave The Count of Monte Cristo another shot, and was enthralled. I adored it, and it was my first real foray into "the classics". Though I have read others since, probably only Anna Karenina has given me as good a feeling as finishing The Count of Monte Cristo for the first time did.