If you’ve had a chance to read the local Toronto papers recently, you might have found out that Toronto City Councillor Doug Ford doesn’t know who Margaret Atwood is. Say WHAT? Margaret ATWOOD? Egregious displays of ignorance aside, it took me back to my deep love for her famous book The Handmaid’s Tale. From there I swanned right on over to some Alice Munro, and before long I found myself revisiting long winter days when the messy and emotionally charged lives of D.H. Lawrence’s characters got me through many a dark spell in limbo. When I was living with my parents and feeling cut off from the world, books with richly drawn protagonists helped me to feel as if my own, swirling emotions weren’t so strange and kept me from sinking into depression on many occasions. Sometimes the stories ended well; sometimes they didn’t, but ‘happy’ or ‘sad’ wasn’t the point. The point was that I was able to emotionally connect to the characters, and in doing so, managed to alleviate some of the loneliness that I was going through. So, for those book-loving limbo dwellers out there, what are some books that you have really identified with? I’m no English lit major, so bear with me, but here are a few of mine....
The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood. This book came to mean more to me as I became more of a feminist, but even my initial reading of it had me in tears.
House of Spirits, by Isabel Allende. For the longest time, I couldn’t understand why my mother’s hispanic family was the way they were. Reading this book, as well as books by other Latin authors such as Gabriel García Márquez and Junot Diaz shed a lot of light onto that subject.
Anything in the gothic horror section. A lot of gothic horror relied not upon guts and gore, but psychological paranoia and terrifying suspense. As a result, it delved far more deeply into emotional turmoil. Go for the classics, such as Poe and Lovecraft.
The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri. Having moved countries in my childhood (even if it was from one Western nation to another) has meant a little bit of culture shock. Reading about characters that were torn between the expectations of their families and norms of the culture around them felt as if I was reading about myself.
The Mayor of Casterbridge, by Thomas Hardy. Remember those downward spirals we’ve talked about before? Yeah, the titular character goes on one. Big time.
The Sickness unto Death, by Søren Kierkegaard. I had to read this for a class on early existentialism. No, I do not normally pick up books like this on my own, although after reading it, I wish I had, and much sooner! Kierkegaard talks about the different kinds of despair so accurately that nearly every page of my copy is covered with notes to the effect of ‘So that’s what I’ve been feeling!’.
Any more? Tell in the comments!
The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood. This book came to mean more to me as I became more of a feminist, but even my initial reading of it had me in tears.
House of Spirits, by Isabel Allende. For the longest time, I couldn’t understand why my mother’s hispanic family was the way they were. Reading this book, as well as books by other Latin authors such as Gabriel García Márquez and Junot Diaz shed a lot of light onto that subject.
Anything in the gothic horror section. A lot of gothic horror relied not upon guts and gore, but psychological paranoia and terrifying suspense. As a result, it delved far more deeply into emotional turmoil. Go for the classics, such as Poe and Lovecraft.
The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri. Having moved countries in my childhood (even if it was from one Western nation to another) has meant a little bit of culture shock. Reading about characters that were torn between the expectations of their families and norms of the culture around them felt as if I was reading about myself.
The Mayor of Casterbridge, by Thomas Hardy. Remember those downward spirals we’ve talked about before? Yeah, the titular character goes on one. Big time.
The Sickness unto Death, by Søren Kierkegaard. I had to read this for a class on early existentialism. No, I do not normally pick up books like this on my own, although after reading it, I wish I had, and much sooner! Kierkegaard talks about the different kinds of despair so accurately that nearly every page of my copy is covered with notes to the effect of ‘So that’s what I’ve been feeling!’.
Any more? Tell in the comments!
Though my list isn’t as varied or textured as yours, you inspired me to look back at my favorite reading experiences. In no particular order:
ReplyDeleteThe Fourth Protocol by Frederick Forsythe – Right now a book about a British secret agent trying to stop a nuclear terrorist attack might seem almost quaint, but when I read this in high school it was a thrilling proposition. Add to that the fact that Forsythe is one of the kings of plot twists. Over 400 pages of reveal after reveal, right down to the very last paragraph. My first truly mind-blowing reading experience. It would be the first of many.
The Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe – My favorite fiction book of all time. The story of a high-flying Wall Street broker who takes a wrong turn in the Bronx is the ultimate examination of class, race, politics and culture, with an absolutely jaw-dropping ending. Wolfe uses a journalistic approach to telling this fiction story (almost the opposite of Ben Mezerich’s novelistic approach to the true story of facebook in The Accidental Billionaires) that creates a fascinating cross section of voices in a vividly realized 1980’s New York City.
Jurassic Park, The Lost World, Rising Sun, Disclosure, Sphere, Congo, Timeline and Airframe by Michael Crichton – Absolutely un-put-down-able writing. Crichton wrote just amazing books and sort of created the ‘techno-thriller’ genre of action-packed books with a lot of technical detail. And that detail was what really grabbed me. While I was being entertained I was also learning about genetics, chaos theory, global business, employment law, quantum physics, 18th century political-economic theory, and modern avionics. For the record Dan Brown is a pauper’s Crichton.
Almost anything by Scott Turrow, but particularly Pleading Guilty – John Grisham is probably the most popular legal thriller writer of his generation, but Turrow is the best legal thriller writer. Presumed Innocent, The Burden of Proof, The Laws of Our Fathers, Personal Injuries, Reversible Errors and Limitations, all revolving around a series of interrelated characters, used the law as a metaphor for the anxieties and crises of growing out of the hopefulness of young adulthood to the inevitable disappointments of middle age. His best by far is Pleading Guilty, a mystery involving missing money, murdered lawyers, crooked cops, and a fading attorney trying to prove he’s worth something in the twilight of his career by solving the whole mess.
A Prayer for Owen Meany, The World According to Garp, and The Fourth Hand by John Irving – I started reading Irving because he was the favorite author of a woman I was interested in. Turned out her choice of books was better than my choice of women at the time. The thing I loved about Irving’s books was the almost hyper-reality of them, the quirky characters, the almost casual commingling of the comic and the tragic, and the almost mythical sweep of the character arcs.
The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand – Amazingly original books that combined incredibly compelling characters and plots with Rand’s objectivist philosophy. The refusal of the protagonists to compromise what they knew was right for commercial or populist considerations really appealed to me at the time because I was searching for a clear career direction for myself. Both books talk about an individual’s contribution of passions, gifts and efforts as a duty to society. There was almost a sense that you have no right to back down from your convictions, that society needs you to be committed to being the true you—that’s what you owe for the privilege of life and your gifts—or else the fate of the whole world might be at stake.
Oh, and those are my favorite fiction reading experiences. I have a list of non-fiction favorites just as long (though I’m quite certain Rob and Doug Ford wouldn’t be interested in them at all).