Some of the most famous books are the least worth reading. Their

Host:
The rain pattered gently against the window, the sound of droplets falling like soft whispers in the room. The evening light had almost faded completely, leaving the space shrouded in a cool, melancholic blue. Jack and Jeeny sat across from each other, the table between them littered with empty coffee cups and open books. Jack's eyes were dark, his expression distant, while Jeeny traced the edge of a page with her finger, lost in thought.

Finally, Jeeny broke the silence, her voice soft but carrying a weight that seemed to press the air between them.

Jeeny:
"I came across this quote today, Jack... ‘Some of the most famous books are the least worth reading. Their fame was due to their having done something that needed to be doing in their day. The work is done and the virtue of the book has expired.’ It’s by Molière. What do you think? Do you agree with him?"

Jack didn’t respond right away. His fingers tapped lightly against the side of his mug, and he stared at the words she had just read. After a moment, he leaned back in his chair, his voice carrying a trace of cynicism, as always.

Jack:
"I think Molière’s onto something. The most famous books, the ones everyone hypes about, often become famous for a reason that has nothing to do with their quality. They were important in their time, sure, but that doesn’t mean they hold up. Over time, they lose their relevance. What mattered then doesn’t necessarily matter now. Fame is often just a byproduct of timing, not actual merit."

Jeeny frowned slightly, her gaze searching his face. Her voice was gentler, tinged with something like sadness, as she replied.

Jeeny:
"Maybe... but don’t you think there’s something to be said for the fact that they were important in their time? The fact that they sparked something, started conversations, or even changed the way people saw the world? Just because something doesn’t age well, doesn’t mean it didn’t serve its purpose. The virtue of a book can still live on in what it represented, even if it’s not something we need today."

Jack let out a soft scoff, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He leaned forward, his tone a bit sharper now.

Jack:
"Purpose, sure. But you’re talking about historical relevance, not actual literary value. A book can be important for its time and still be bad. Let’s face it: there are plenty of classic books that we keep on pedestals simply because they were first. But when you look at them now, with modern eyes, you can see the flaws—the overwriting, the dated themes, the lack of true depth. We’re still holding on to them because they’ve earned their spot in the canon, not because they hold up as great literature. And maybe that’s a mistake."

Jeeny’s hands curled around her cup, her eyes lowering as she considered his words. Her voice was quiet, but there was a strength in it that couldn’t be ignored.

Jeeny:
"I get what you’re saying, but I still think there’s value in the history of a book, in what it contributed. Not everything needs to be perfect or timeless to have worth. Some books are like artifacts, relics of their time. They’re meant to tell us about the world as it was, to show us how far we’ve come or remind us of the mistakes we made. They don’t have to be perfect to be important. Their value isn’t necessarily in their longevity, but in their impact."

Jack shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though it was laced with sarcasm.

Jack:
"Impact? Sure, every book leaves an impact, whether we like it or not. But that doesn’t mean it should be preserved forever. The world doesn’t need more museum pieces. We don’t need to be holding onto books that are past their time, just because they once made a wave. The real question is: are we still learning from them? Or are we just collecting them, like trophies from a bygone era? It’s time to let go of the things that no longer serve a purpose. If the virtue of a book has expired, then why keep reading it?"

Jeeny’s voice remained steady, though there was a hint of something more emotional beneath her words.

Jeeny:
"Because sometimes, even the old books have a story to tell, not just through their words, but through their legacy. You can’t dismiss the value of something just because it doesn’t fit into the framework of what you think is worth reading now. Literature is a reflection of human experience, and those old books are part of that experience. They show us where we’ve been, even if we’ve moved beyond them. Maybe they’re not meant to be read the same way anymore, but that doesn’t make them less meaningful. It’s the context that matters."

Jack’s expression softened, just slightly, and he leaned back again, his tone less dismissive now, though still rooted in his realist mindset.

Jack:
"I get that, Jeeny. I do. But context can only go so far. A book’s value should come from the story it tells, not just the time it represents. And that’s what I mean about expiration. A book’s worth isn’t in what it once meant, but in how it still speaks to people today. If it doesn’t have anything to say anymore, if it doesn’t hold up to modern scrutiny, then maybe it’s time we stop pretending it’s still worth reading."

Jeeny sat for a moment, considering his words, before responding with a soft sigh. Her voice was still calm, but there was a quiet sadness in it now.

Jeeny:
"Maybe. But I think there’s room for both, Jack. For the books that stand the test of time, and the ones that were made for their moment, even if they don’t hold the same meaning now. Maybe it’s not about choosing one over the other, but understanding that both have their place. Some books will always be relevant, and others will only be relevant to the time they were written in. But in the end, they’re all part of the story we tell ourselves about who we are."

Jack didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he stared out the window, his eyes lost in thought. The rain outside had picked up, the sound growing louder as the world beyond them blurred into a wash of gray. For a moment, it felt like time itself had slowed.

Host:
And so, the conversation hung between them, not with the urgency of resolution, but with a quiet understanding. Both Jack and Jeeny saw the world differently — one looking at the past with skepticism, the other holding onto the legacy of what came before. But in their shared silence, there was the recognition that both views were valid, and perhaps the truth lay somewhere in the space between their two perspectives. As the rain continued to fall, it seemed as though the world was holding its breath, waiting for the answer that neither of them had yet found.