I was listening to the radio a few weeks back, and I came across an interview with a film critic and historian who'd recently published a book of 1000 movies everyone should see before they die. The host of the program asked about this film and that, how the book was compiled, what the author's favorite movies were, things of that nature. And then he asked him what he thought the most overrated film of all time was, to which the author immediately replied "Citizen Kane."

And of course he is quite correct. Citizen Kane is unquestionably the most overrated movie ever made. It may also be the best film ever made; the two are not mutually exclusive. The author explained that the problem with a movie like that-- with anything that has been universally accepted as a masterpiece-- is that you reach a point where you're not seeing the work itself, you're seeing the legend of the work, the reputation of it. Citizen Kane has been at the top of every list of great films (most notably the decennial Sight & Sound poll) since the 1960s. At this point, it almost wins automatically. His suggestion, which I wholeheartedly agree with, was that both the film and the medium as a whole might benefit if it were removed from consideration for a few decades. Give it more of an emeritus position and allow some other work to shine. And who knows, maybe in 30 or 40 years it can be "rediscovered" and seen for what it really is again.

I bring all this up, because I feel that in its own way, in its own field, 2001: A Space Odyssey has reached a similar status. The book (which was neither the source material nor an adaptation of the equally great movie, but was instead written in concert with it) is sort of universally hailed as a landmark of science fiction, a work that redefined the genre (or perhaps just opened up a whole new realm of possibilities). It's hard to see past the myth and appreciate it on its own merits.

I hadn't actually read 2001 since high school. I would like to say that it was for the aforementioned reason, but laziness and disinterest are more plausible culprits. It was strange, coming back to it, older, better-read, more educated. I saw things that I didn't remember seeing, and I was able to appreciate it in a way that I didn't at first, and wouldn't have been able to if I'd read it again and again the way I have some novels (perhaps I should retire Catch-22 for a few years). How refreshing to find that it absolutely lived up to its reputation and to my memories of it. Clarke's masterpiece is every bit as good as people say, and every bit as innovative and mind-expanding.

If you haven't read it (and really, this is advice for any classic work), please do. And if you have, may I suggest that you return to it, but not right away. Let it fade a bit in your memory, so that when you read it again, it will have some of the force of a new experience.