I saw where someone was asked to list 10 books that "had stuck with them." It went on to explain that these should be books that they had found significant in some fashion, not books that haunted their dreams because of the horribly bad writing. (In other words, you can leave "50 Shades of Cliché" off of your list.)
“Did you give him our address?”
“No, but stalking is one of his specialties,” I muse matter-of-factly.
Kate’s brow knits further.
“No, but stalking is one of his specialties,” I muse matter-of-factly.
Kate’s brow knits further.
I am told that this is actual text from "50 Shades of Bad" but I have not bothered verifying that fact. I have been too busy trying to teach my brow to knit--what with winter coming and all, I can always use some extra pairs of socks.
Nonetheless, the idea of a list of 10 books intrigued me. I immediately sat down and opened my computer to find a translation of that word "books" into American English. Sadly, it turns out that there is no such word in American. The nearest translation was "tweet." Luckily, I was able to find a really old man--a guy who was a freshman at my high school when I was a senior--who told me this tale about trees being transmuted into collections of words that you can read. Very "sorcerer's apprentice" stuff.
.png)
Anyway, I asked this old man if he could give me his list of 10 of these "books" and he replied that he would give me TWO lists: one list of books that were actually memorable and significant; and one list of books that a moron like me might actually read. Here they are:
TEN MEMORABLE BOOKS
100 Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez (in which a character levitates after consuming chocolate; if this has never happened to you, then you need to be eating better chocolate . . . or smoking better weed. I've been told. I'm looking at you, John Stacklyn.)
Absalom's Sound and Fury in August, William Faulkner (a nitpicker might argue that Absalom! Absalom!, The Sound and the Fury, and Light in August are not, in fact, a single book. To which I say, "Horsefeathers!" Those three names are merely chapter titles for one book: I Don't Hate the South! I Don't! [The preceding is a clever and hilarious joke--if you are one of the seven Americans who actually have read William Faulkner. Which--unless your name is Linda Girard--I am confident that you are not.])
Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf (to quote the man who gave me this list, "If I had to give an aspiring writer one book as an example of what she or he should aspire to, it would be this book.") This book has that amazing quality that there is not one thing that could be removed without making it less wonderful, nor one more thing that could be added. Unlike, say, Little Women, where more cattle-rustling and certainly more gunfights would have greatly improved the story. "That's my rag doll, Jo. Slap leather!"
100 Selected Poems, e e cummings (admittedly, this book is being kept in print by college guys trying to get laid, but nonetheless the poems are remarkably beautiful and subversive.) "listen: there's a hell of a good universe next door--let's go"
The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver (besides being wonderfully written from multiple perspectives, this book says all there is to say about fundamentalist religion, patriarchal family structures, and the follies of arrogance. Or is that completely redundant?)
Justice, Michael J. Sandel (this book shows in a compelling fashion that "justice" as an ideal inevitably requires a subjective and irrational choice of rewards and punishments. More importantly, this book reminds us that the body of utilitarian philosopher Jeremy Bentham, in accordance with his instructions, is kept on public display at the University College London and attends College Councils, where it is shown in the minutes as "present but not voting.")
A Mind of Its Own, Cordelia Fine (an explanation, among other things, of how the human brain, once its owner has decided on an opinion, actually will distort perceptions to keep from having to acknowledge any facts that undercut that opinion. Or, in other words, if you have been counting on US policy on, say, climate change or education or taxation or discrimination being determined by scientific fact and rational debate . . . that's hilarious! "You just keep thinkin', Butch. That's what you're good at.")
If on a Winters Night a Traveler, Italo Calvino (if you wonder why some authors write in the first person ["I thrashed all the men in the town singlehandedly and all the women fell in love with me."] and some write in the third person ["Lance Flint thrashed all the men in the town singlehandedly and all the women fell in love with him. And he was a dead ringer for this author."], but no one ever writes in the second person ["You watched me thrash all the men in the town singlehandedly and you saw that all the women fell in love with me. And you felt mighty attracted to me yourself."], then you need to read this book, as it is told in the second person. Plus it is amazingly creative and fun.)
Guns, Germs, and Steel and Collapse, Jerad Diamond (these books answer the question "What differentiates the human species from all others?" Not surprisingly, it is the ability and willingness of humans to put short-term goals ahead of long-term sustainable practices. Thereby destroying its own environment and assuring that future generations will inherit a hot mess. Hmm, there are things in these books that resonate with The Poisonwood Bible and A Mind of Its Own. Could I be heading toward a coherent observation? Yeah, right. Like that's ever going to happen.)
If This Is a Man (title in US: Survival in Auschwitz), Primo Levi (this book answers the question "How was it possible for ordinary people to engage in such unthinkable horrors as happened at Auschwitz?" The answer is "Quite easily." And it answers the question "How was it possible for other ordinary people to endure those horrors?" And that answer is "By making it through the next hour." It is the most remarkable book I have ever read in terms of making the unthinkable--the lives of the guards, the prisoners, and the trustees that were both--become imaginable.)
TEN BOOKS/SERIES YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY READ
The Flashman series, George MacDonald Fraser. A cad and bounder and sometime British officer seduces, cheats, lies and wheedles his way through the British Empire and beyond during the 1800's. If only history had been taught like this in school.
The Travis McGee series, John D. MacDonald. Before The Sting, before Leverage, when you had been wronged by someone too powerful or too devious for the police to help you, there was Travis McGee. For those of you that know Nick Myers, just think of Travis McGee as being a fictionalized version of Nick. Only with a moral compass. So, not like Nick Myers at all.
The Inspector Gamache series, Louise Penny. Primarily involving the captivating village of Three Pines, Canada and its odd collection of inhabitants, this series is as much a study of human emotions, compulsions and choices as it is a detective series. If it doesn't leave you thinking more deeply about people you know, then you are hanging around a much too wholesome crowd.
The Inspector Rutledge series, Charles Todd. England in the aftermath of World War I.
The Jackson Brodie series, Kate Atkinson. Beautiful writing. And stories that tell us what horrible things people are capable of. A strange and captivating balance.
Poetic Gems, William McGonegall. William McGonegall has been labeled the worst poet to ever work in the English language. Deservedly. If someone could intentionally write this awfully, he would be a genius.
Chronicles of Bustos Domecq, Jorge Luis Borges. This book proves my prior point--Borges (a genius) has written with a straight face a satire of literary pretention beyond description.
Catch 22, Joseph Heller. Nothing need be said.
Welcome to the Monkeyhouse, Kurt Vonnegut. Same.
The Foundation trilogy, Isaac Asimov. Science fiction with believable science! Gotta love that.
100 Selected Poems, e e cummings (admittedly, this book is being kept in print by college guys trying to get laid, but nonetheless the poems are remarkably beautiful and subversive.) "listen: there's a hell of a good universe next door--let's go"
The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver (besides being wonderfully written from multiple perspectives, this book says all there is to say about fundamentalist religion, patriarchal family structures, and the follies of arrogance. Or is that completely redundant?)
Justice, Michael J. Sandel (this book shows in a compelling fashion that "justice" as an ideal inevitably requires a subjective and irrational choice of rewards and punishments. More importantly, this book reminds us that the body of utilitarian philosopher Jeremy Bentham, in accordance with his instructions, is kept on public display at the University College London and attends College Councils, where it is shown in the minutes as "present but not voting.")
A Mind of Its Own, Cordelia Fine (an explanation, among other things, of how the human brain, once its owner has decided on an opinion, actually will distort perceptions to keep from having to acknowledge any facts that undercut that opinion. Or, in other words, if you have been counting on US policy on, say, climate change or education or taxation or discrimination being determined by scientific fact and rational debate . . . that's hilarious! "You just keep thinkin', Butch. That's what you're good at.")
If on a Winters Night a Traveler, Italo Calvino (if you wonder why some authors write in the first person ["I thrashed all the men in the town singlehandedly and all the women fell in love with me."] and some write in the third person ["Lance Flint thrashed all the men in the town singlehandedly and all the women fell in love with him. And he was a dead ringer for this author."], but no one ever writes in the second person ["You watched me thrash all the men in the town singlehandedly and you saw that all the women fell in love with me. And you felt mighty attracted to me yourself."], then you need to read this book, as it is told in the second person. Plus it is amazingly creative and fun.)
Guns, Germs, and Steel and Collapse, Jerad Diamond (these books answer the question "What differentiates the human species from all others?" Not surprisingly, it is the ability and willingness of humans to put short-term goals ahead of long-term sustainable practices. Thereby destroying its own environment and assuring that future generations will inherit a hot mess. Hmm, there are things in these books that resonate with The Poisonwood Bible and A Mind of Its Own. Could I be heading toward a coherent observation? Yeah, right. Like that's ever going to happen.)
If This Is a Man (title in US: Survival in Auschwitz), Primo Levi (this book answers the question "How was it possible for ordinary people to engage in such unthinkable horrors as happened at Auschwitz?" The answer is "Quite easily." And it answers the question "How was it possible for other ordinary people to endure those horrors?" And that answer is "By making it through the next hour." It is the most remarkable book I have ever read in terms of making the unthinkable--the lives of the guards, the prisoners, and the trustees that were both--become imaginable.)
TEN BOOKS/SERIES YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY READ
The Flashman series, George MacDonald Fraser. A cad and bounder and sometime British officer seduces, cheats, lies and wheedles his way through the British Empire and beyond during the 1800's. If only history had been taught like this in school.
The Travis McGee series, John D. MacDonald. Before The Sting, before Leverage, when you had been wronged by someone too powerful or too devious for the police to help you, there was Travis McGee. For those of you that know Nick Myers, just think of Travis McGee as being a fictionalized version of Nick. Only with a moral compass. So, not like Nick Myers at all.
The Inspector Gamache series, Louise Penny. Primarily involving the captivating village of Three Pines, Canada and its odd collection of inhabitants, this series is as much a study of human emotions, compulsions and choices as it is a detective series. If it doesn't leave you thinking more deeply about people you know, then you are hanging around a much too wholesome crowd.
The Inspector Rutledge series, Charles Todd. England in the aftermath of World War I.
The Jackson Brodie series, Kate Atkinson. Beautiful writing. And stories that tell us what horrible things people are capable of. A strange and captivating balance.
Poetic Gems, William McGonegall. William McGonegall has been labeled the worst poet to ever work in the English language. Deservedly. If someone could intentionally write this awfully, he would be a genius.
Chronicles of Bustos Domecq, Jorge Luis Borges. This book proves my prior point--Borges (a genius) has written with a straight face a satire of literary pretention beyond description.
Catch 22, Joseph Heller. Nothing need be said.
Welcome to the Monkeyhouse, Kurt Vonnegut. Same.
The Foundation trilogy, Isaac Asimov. Science fiction with believable science! Gotta love that.
No comments:
Post a Comment