I suspect that I would never have finished The Man Who Loved Children by Christina Stead if I had followed that rule. As a matter of fact, page 120 might not have sufficed. It stopped me once, in my 20s, but when I picked it up in my 50s and pushed on, I was very glad I did.

I agree that life is too short to read crummy books through. I do now and then for a neighborhood book club, with gritted teeth.