I was eleven years old when this book was released, and it felt like all of America was reading it. I saw it everywhere: at bus stops, swimming pools, by the Burger Chef works bar. That doesn’t really happen with books anymore, because we’re all reading on Kindles or tablets, and can’t see covers. It’s too bad, really.

The Spielberg-directed movie was great, of course. Until the very end, anyway, when they blew the shark up. That always bothered me, because it seemed so over-the-top and Hollywood-like. It was the only bum note in an otherwise fantastic flick.

The book is different than the movie. Not completely different, of course, but substantially so. I just read it for the first time a few months ago. It’s good. It holds up, and I enjoyed the ride.

I wonder if the publisher temporarily lowered the price on the Kindle version to $1.99 because of all the shark attacks in the news this summer? It’s a fairly cynical thought, therefore probably right on the money. In any case, if you’re looking for some old-school 1970s thrills, you can’t do much better than this classic.