I used the word “inconceivable” in my post yesterday, which inspired me to write this post. You see, inconceivable is kind of a big deal for me. It’s one of my favorite words and it reminds me of one of my favorite books and movies.
First of all, you should know that I’m not at all kidding about inconceivable being one of my favorite words. I love it. I try use it as much as possible, which leads to me using the double negative construction of “not inconceivable” when normal people would say “conceivable.” But how can I pass up a perfectly good chance to use inconceivable? See, I don’t have any affection for conceivable, just inconceivable.
And that affection, of course, is courtesy of The Princess Bride. (Was there any doubt?) Like I said, it’s one of my favorite movies of all time and probably my favorite 80s movies. But I didn’t see it until I was a senior in high school. I actually read the book first. (Betcha didn’t even know it was a book, didja?) And I didn’t read the book until the summer before my senior year in high school. And, let me tell you, reading the book cleared up some things for me. Like why my friend Randy spent a week walking around our school saying “hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”
I don’t know why I didn’t see The Princess Bride when I was younger. (At least I saw it before I saw The Goonies, which I didn’t see until I was in my mid-twenties. But I digress.) I know my parents have no real interest in it, no matter how many times I beg them to watch it or point out that it’s on AMC. I’m really glad I saw it before I went to college, though, because The Princess Bride was pretty much the official favorite movie of the Robert E. Cook Honors College at Indiana University of Pennsylvania. (Or at least it was when I was a student. It makes me sad to think that it might be some other movie now.)
Hmm, I’m done reading books for my YA Lit class. I wonder where my paperback copy of The Princess Bride is.