Right now I am quite tempted to say A Portrait of the Artist as a Yong Man, becasue this is my second time reading it, having to read it now for school. And the frist time I read it I did not particuarly enjoy it becasue I really did not care about the character of Steven at all, and I was not drawn into the story.
And now I am currently trying to get through Chapter 3, which is just absolutely painful, becasue it is basicaly just an entire sermon written word for word, of a priest rambling on and on and on about the same thing for a ridiculous amount of pages, when really I got the point in the first couple of paragrahs.
Of course the argument could be made that art isn't merely about "getting the point". Certainly we could have "got the point" of War and Peace or In Search of Lost Time in far fewer words than were expended by the writers... but art isn't about "getting the point"... its not something that can be reduced to a definition or a mere menu.

