Because I’m a nerd, I had a lot of fun putting together my Part 1 list last week. This week? More difficult. Somehow Part 2 felt more serious, more final — when I’d decided on one book, another leapt off the shelf and cried, “BUT HOW COULD YOU FORGET ME??”
To which I say — chill out, book. This isn’t the be all, end all. There are other books I enjoy, other books I love. These ones just make the cut today. (And shout out to the entire Harry Potter series, it’s getting the honorable mention of the day.)
My college pal and fellow creative writer Val guessed that this would be on the list. Maybe I’m transparent, or maybe it’s just a really good book.
If you’ve read one of those “Best quotes of all timez!!” lists, you’ve read a sentence by oh-so-witty Maugham. His books are more somber than his one-line quips, though. The Razor’s Edge is difficult, too, because it’s not a super direct storyline. In fact, the heart-and-soul of the novel is set-up by this:
I feel it right to warn the reader that he can very well skip this chapter without losing the thread of the story
I mean, who does that?? That tells you what you’re in for with this book. Rather meandering, not much action, a large cast of characters, spanning decades and continents… and so worth it. Beyond the fact that the book is beautifully written, it dives into moral grey area and ponders the meaning of happiness. No, it’s not a light read, but if you’re looking to sink your teeth into something, I can’t recommend this one enough.
As you can probably tell from the tattered copy, this is another book that I a) stole, and b) return to time and again.
I loved this book SO much that for a long time, I wanted to be a vet. (That changed after a day volunteering in a vet clinic.) But guys, James Herriot makes it sound like so much FUN! Cute animals! Heartwarming tales! You want to know Herriot’s friends, you want to meet the farmers, you want to drive through pastoral England. And you know what else? Reading this, Herriot just seems like a good guy. You can’t say that about a lot of authors, so it’s rather refreshing. And speaking of, well, not the greatest of guys….
Oh look — ANOTHER prick on the list! Not only a contemporary of Hemingway’s, but a fascist to boot! I really know how to pick ’em.
So, yeah, Pound may have been a TOTAL nutcase, but in spite of that (or maybe because of it) his poetry sticks. I was in Rome the first time I read this collection, roaming Italian graveyards and studying expatriates, so that undoubtedly colored my reading of it. But over the years it’s still the poetry I pick up most often. Plus, it contains what is probably my favorite poem ever, “Erat Hora”:
‘Thank you, whatever comes.’ And then she turned
And, as the ray of sun on hanging flowers
Fades when the wind hath lifted them aside,
Went swiftly from me. Nay, whatever comes
One hour was sunlit and the most high gods
May not make boast of any better thing
Than to have watched that hour as it passed.
Let me just give you a brief overview of the physical places covered by this book. Nazi-invaded Prague. Brooklyn. The Empire State Building. Antarctica.
I mean, guys, the hero travels to Antarctica during World War II. If that’s not enough to sell this book… oh, it’s not? But wait, there’s more! This book is fantastical. Surreal. Like a portrait of New York City dipped in technicolor and redrawn a bit. Its protagonists are comic-book artists, larger-than-life men (and women!) who become superheros of their own reality. There’s adventure and heartbreak and did I mention a battle in Antarctica? Many would argue this is Chabon’s best, and I can’t disagree.
This book… you know, it’s fine. I see the merit of it. I see why people always bring it up. But a favorite? Nope. I honestly had a hard time getting through it. But there’s a very specific reason why it’s on this list.
The night I met my husband, he asked what my favorite book was. I said I wasn’t sure, too many to name, yadda yadda. What was his? Without hesitation: “1984.” He was flabbergasted that I hadn’t read it. Told me I HAD to read it. He was even more flabbergasted (and yeah, a bit annoyed) when, on our first date, I admitted I hadn’t purchased a copy yet. So this is the copy he brought to my door on our third date. Yes, my husband’s first gift to me was an Orwell book. I slogged through it, and it’s been on our bookshelf ever since.
If you didn’t chime in last week — DON’T MISS YOUR CHANCE AT GLORY! What are some of your favorite books? Why? Let’s swap tales.