Audiobook Sample
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- Title: Benjamin Button
- Author: F. Scott Fitzgerald
- Narrator: Michael Scott
- Length: 0.046527778
- Version: Abridged
- Release Date: 30-Oct
- Publisher: Thought Audio
- Genre: Fiction & Literature, Classics
- ISBN13: SABTAXX978051
Hola, wanderers and story lovers,
It’s Marcus Rivera here, your fellow traveler through the wild landscapes of literature and life. Today, I’m diving into the audiobook experience of *The Curious Case of Benjamin Button* by F. Scott Fitzgerald, narrated by Michael Scott. You can almost hear the crackle of a campfire as this tale unfolds—a story that bends time like a desert mirage and leaves you pondering the strange, beautiful dance of existence. It’s a free audiobook gem from Thought Audio, and I’m here to take you along for the ride.
Picture this: I was winding through the Atacama Desert in Chile, the driest place on Earth, when I first lost myself in an audiobook—García Márquez’s *One Hundred Years of Solitude*. The narrator’s voice wove magic into the surreal landscape, and it felt like the story was alive, whispering secrets through the sand. Listening to *Benjamin Button* brought me back to that moment. Fitzgerald’s tale of a man born old and aging backward is a different kind of magic—less lush, more sharp-edged, like the glint of sunlight on Baltimore’s cobblestone streets. It’s a story that doesn’t just unfold; it unravels, pulling you into its odd, tender heart.
The premise is simple yet wild: Benjamin Button arrives in the world as a wrinkled, white-haired elder in 1860s Baltimore, only to grow younger with each passing year. It’s a fantastical inversion of life, and Fitzgerald uses it to poke at the absurdity of social norms, the fragility of love, and the relentless march of time—or, in this case, its backward stumble. The story unfolds like a well-worn map, tracing Benjamin’s journey through a society that doesn’t know what to make of him. He’s a misfit at every stage—too old to play as a child, too young to command respect as a man. You can almost feel the weight of his isolation, the way it presses against the polite chatter of the Jazz Age elite.
What struck me most is how Fitzgerald captures the human condition through this bizarre lens. Time, identity, love—they’re all here, warped and refracted. Benjamin’s marriage to Rosaline, for instance, is a quiet tragedy. As he grows younger and she ages forward, their paths diverge like two rivers splitting around a stone. It reminds me of a night in Oaxaca, sitting with a grandmother who spun tales of lost loves and fleeting joys. Her voice had this stillness, a pause before the punchline, that made every word land deeper. Fitzgerald does something similar with his prose—there’s a wry humor, a knowing wink, that keeps the story from sinking into melancholy.
Now, let’s talk about Michael Scott’s narration. No, not *The Office* Michael Scott—though I’ll admit, I half-expected a ‘That’s what she said’ to slip in. This Michael Scott brings a warm, steady tone to the audiobook, clocking in at just under 67 minutes. His voice is like a well-traveled road—smooth in places, rough with character in others. He leans into the satire, giving Benjamin’s father a flustered dignity that made me chuckle, and he softens for the tender moments, like when Benjamin first meets Rosaline. The audio quality is crisp, unadorned—no fancy sound effects, just the story and Scott’s voice carrying it along. It’s intimate, like someone reading to you over a cup of coffee—or, in my case, a mate cocido by a Patagonian campfire.
That said, the narration isn’t perfect. Scott’s pacing can feel a tad rushed in the quieter scenes, where I wanted to linger longer, to savor Fitzgerald’s bittersweet irony. And while his delivery suits the Roaring Twenties vibe—think speakeasies and flapper dresses—it doesn’t fully capture the existential weight of Benjamin’s plight. I kept thinking of that Oaxacan grandmother, how she’d pause just long enough to let the silence speak. A touch more of that, and this audiobook could’ve hit even harder.
The strengths of this listening experience lie in its brevity and bite. At under an hour, it’s a perfect companion for a short trip—say, a drive along the coast or a walk through a bustling market. Fitzgerald’s satire shines through, skewering the shallow values of wealth and status with a deft hand. The concept of aging backward feels timeless, too—it’s a lens that makes you rethink your own life, the way we’re all caught in time’s current, whether it flows forward or back. And did I mention it’s free? That’s a rare gift in a world where good stories often come with a price tag.
But it’s not without flaws. The story’s episodic nature—jumping from one stage of Benjamin’s life to the next—can feel disjointed, especially in audio form where you can’t flip back a page to connect the dots. Benjamin himself remains a bit distant, more a vessel for Fitzgerald’s ideas than a fully fleshed-out soul. I wanted to know him better, to feel his joys and sorrows more deeply, but he slips away like a shadow. It’s a limitation of the short story format, sure, but one that stands out when you’re immersed in the audiobook experience.
If you’ve read Oscar Wilde’s *The Picture of Dorian Gray*, you’ll catch echoes here—both stories wrestle with appearance, identity, and the cost of defying nature. Or think of H.G. Wells’ *The Time Machine*, with its fascination for bending time’s rules. *Benjamin Button* sits comfortably among these classics, though it’s lighter, more playful, with a Jazz Age swagger all its own.
Who’s this for? If you love Fiction & Literature classics with a twist, or if you’re new to audiobooks and want a quick, thought-provoking dip, this is your ticket. It’s ideal for listeners who enjoy a blend of humor and heart, who don’t mind a story that leaves as many questions as answers. Pair it with a rainy afternoon or a starry night—you’ll find it settles into your bones like a good tale should.
Reflecting on it now, *Benjamin Button* feels like a conversation with an old friend—one who’s seen the world turn upside down and still finds a way to laugh. It’s made me think about my own journey, the way travel has aged me backward in spirit, even as the years pile on. Listening to this audiobook free through Thought Audio was a small adventure, a reminder of why I chase stories across continents. It’s not Fitzgerald’s deepest work, but it’s one that lingers, like the taste of mezcal long after the glass is empty.
Until the next tale,
Marcus Rivera
