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Age 26: My Ten Favorite BooksFeb 22 '06 (Updated Jun 05 '06) Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line The ten best books I've ever read...probably.
I won’t be pretentious. I’ll try not to be naïve. And, I won’t make simplistic bullet-points. They’re too neat. Paragraphs seem more appropriate. You see, I’m attempting a list of my favorite books. And, in my 26 years of book reading (not all being official “book-reading” years) there are some holes. I’ve skipped all books of Russian origin. I’ve started Dickens and heartlessly hit the road soon after Oliver goes soupless…and, I admit with some embarrassment that I’ve made three failed attempts to finish The Fellowship of the Rings. So, realistically I’m in no place to present a neat buffet of ten of the best books ever penned. I’m not even assuming that I can recall the enjoyment-meter as I plowed through Koontz, Clancy, Mr. King, and Grisham in high school. If I could I would be able to point to something tangible and say “Ah, The Tommyknockers gets a 2 and The Firm works its way through to an 8….on the enjoyment-meter”. No, things are too cloudy for that. The enjoyment-meter is too relative. Perhaps there is a better way to go about putting a rating to these hours and hours of commitment. I can’t prove it, but maybe the best books I’ve read are the ones that won’t leave me alone, the ones who are somewhat haunting. They’re the stories and characters that push their way to the window of my memory with every opportunity presented to them. A cold gust of wind. A feeling of insecurity. We’ll start very anti-climatically at the top with number one. And, maybe it sounds cliched. And, maybe it’s annoying to some or not enough of a surprise to others. But, I’ve got to go with The Bible for the number one spot. My whole life is based on the belief that what it says is true. So, Jesus, His death, His return to life…the Trinity….all that stuff, I’ve signed up for. Any serious list of this sort for me has to start with The Bible. Where do we go from there? Well, understand that the gap between the previous paragraph the current one is bigger than the slight double space…at least in my mind. Number two is The Worst Journey in the World. It’s rare that I make the walk across the parking lot on a below-freezing day without thinking of Apsley Cherry-Garrard and the rest of Robert Scott’s crew in Antarctica. The reason why is that after spending 600-ish pages inside of Cherry-Garrard journal style writing…with all of its monotony and understatement…it honestly feels like I was part of the trip. And, with the memories of the book come reminders that “if they can do that, I can do this”. …sometimes it’s not being a sissy because of how far away I have to park from the electric Walmart doors (don’t these people have better things to do?). …Other times it’s just a reminder that it is possible to get out of the bed this early. And then Owen Meany comes along. That guy got stuck in my head about 10 or 15 pages into A Prayer For Owen Meany and he hasn’t worked his way out yet. He always seems to be peaking out around the corners saying “I’m God’s instrument” and trying to be optimistic about life. I mean what reason does he have to be optimistic about things? He’s short, has a “wrecked voice”, and has a bad family life. But, Owen is frequently my reminder to think positively about life. And, while Owen is telling me to think positively, the Stamper family is reminding me that half my problems are in my head. With a little more communication and a little more give-‘em-the-benefit-of-the-doubt life might ride a little smoother for you. Sometimes A Great Notion plops us down in the life of the logging family of Hank and Henry Stamper. They’re good guys, brothers as a matter of fact, but they seem doomed to a life of bitterness and hatred because they just won’t open up and say what’s going on. Instead their assumptions ruin their lives. This book is haunting in that it reminds me to learn my lessons from other people’s hardships, even if they are fictional. Ken Kesey is also haunting in that the end of this book has about 50 㫣 pages of the best fiction written in the last 50 years…I could be bolder and say ever…but I won’t. But, since I’m dishing out “best-of” awards. The most gripping 50-75 pages of non-fiction that I’ve read, well, that award goes to Jon Krakauer for Into Thin Air. I really hate knowingly using cliches, but…after the storm hits on Everest…well, I can’t remember ever reading a book that was harder to put down than this one was. And, while I’m freely allowing the cliches, I’ll drop this one off….the stuff that happens at the end of this book would never be believable in a fiction book. This book is a good reminder that not everything possible needs to be attempted, but, realistically, I think it pops into my brain frequently because it’s such an amazing story. Speaking of crazy stories, Tarzan of the Apes shows up as a bit of a surprise at number six. It has a truly horrible ending, the whole thing is unbelievable, but to me it’s probably the most fun book I’ve read. I’ve been through it several times and each time I read it Edgar Rice Burroughs makes me believe for three-quarters of the book that a boy can be raised by apes. It’s a great adventure and an interesting character…and, I guess it shows I can have introverted tendencies, because it just sounds cool to be all by myself everyday (although, a Jane character wouldn’t hurt things) with all of the respect my king-of-the-jungle position requires. So, Angela’s Ashes comes next as I work my way to number 10. (I apologize if my -1 to 10- style kills all the tension and excitement for you.) It’s a sad book in that it’s about Frank McCourt’s ridiculously impoverished childhood. But, it doesn’t leave you feeling too depressed (at least for me) because of the innocence that squeezes its way through the cracks. It makes me wonder what could spill through the cracks in my world of bills and busyness if I wasn’t so intent on filling the cracks with adult maturity. Now may be where my free-verse form of creating a list has a flaw. Because I’m trying to use the books that “won’t leave me alone” as a judge of my “best” or “favorite”. But, if I’m going to be honest, a little unknown book by a first time author called My Faith So Far is in my top ten list. It’s a book about keeping your faith real. To be honest, I expect this one to move off the top ten list over time. And, again with the honesty theme, I’m a little embarrassed putting it on the list. I would feel more hip if it was something like C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity or maybe something by John Piper. But, I’m constantly in a world of Christianity. I’m not complaining, but it seems like I’m always wondering. How can a person….? What is going through their mind…? People don’t naturally…? Should that be a part of my life? Would I be more spiritual if I canceled my Backstreets subscription (Springsteen fanzine)? And, when those thoughts appear in my head, Patton Dodd’s My Faith So Far frequently chases them away saying: “Be real”. On this spiritual note, I really like Lord of the Flies. It’s number nine; and I’m almost done, thanks for your attention to my indulgence. When I was growing up I had someone tell me that Lord of the Flies was a bad book. And…”didn’t I know that? The title is a name for Satan, Beelzebub – Lord of the Flies.” So, maybe I was rebelling when I first read it, I don’t remember. But, I am pretty sure that no piece of fiction that I’ve read does a better job of creating a picture of man’s inherent evil nature than Lord of the Flies. Of course, it’s good on a lot of different levels; you don’t have to believe in doctrines of man’s depravity to appreciate it…but, seriously, I wonder where William Golding was at spiritually/religiously. And, number ten….A River Runs Through It. I know it’s actually a novella or short story (whatever the difference is, I don’t know). But, it can fall into the book category for a few moments for my list. It’s a perfect story, by the way. And, myself…I love it because I can fit right into the life of its characters: my Dad’s a pastor, I have one brother…we have many memories surrounding fishing. I love it for the symbolism. I love it for it’s honesty. And, I love it, because it leaves things unsettled. …because, life sometimes is unsettled. Not all the pieces fit together and not everything ends up as you’d like it to. This list is an example. But, that’s life. I can look at my list and infer what message it sends about who I am and what makes up a 26-year old guy like me. And, I guess it would offer some good clues. But, like I said, I won’t be pretentious. I’ll try not to be naïve. And, I won’t make simplistic bullet-points. They’re too neat. Paragraphs seem more appropriate.  |
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