So when I embarked on my quest to read all of the Hugo Award winners, I was under the impression that they'd all be... How to put this... not crap. But of the four I've read I've already hit one bomb. Another was fantastic, and another was good not great. Yesterday I bought number four, got a few pages through it before finding out it was another misfire.
Though there is something appealing in finishing the list, I don't think it bears wading through the wheat, especially when there are better books out there. To that end, I picked up Grossman's translation of the Quijote.