Again, just like I did in "Part I" of this retrospective, these are ten more of the twenty books that changed me. Put more dramatically - they imprinted themselves onto my soul. REMINDER: these don't have to be my "favorite" books, nor is this list about literature that I see as "the best." Instead, this is a look back at a few books that profoundly influenced my reading, writing, and thinking.
ANOTHER REMINDER: the following list is broken down into four segments: Elementary School (ages 5-10), Middle School (ages 10-13), High School (ages 13-17), and College (ages 17-22). I will include five books for each of these sections. This post being "Part II," I'll detail the second ten books of this series, which ranges from High School to College.
High School (ages 13-17)
- Hearts in Atlantis by Stephen King: After reading The Shining back in seventh grade, I was totally hooked on Stephen King. I read a few more of his books throughout middle school (I recall Cujo and Carrie both keeping me up at night), but it wasn't until my freshman year in high school that I read another that left me completely entranced. This, of course, was Hearts in Atlantis. Some consider it a novella collection, others say it's a single narrative told through different characters, but whatever you decide, it's absolutely brilliant. On the outside, it's a well-told tale about kids and how they grow up. Beneath the surface, it's not-so-subtle (and not-so-nice) commentary on the Baby Boomers and how they interact with the world. As a 13-year-old, I didn't notice much of either. King gave me a great book - that was all. I loved the characters, but even more, I loved the ideas (reading "Blind Willie" is life changing). The first section in particular, entitled "Low Men in Yellow Coats," is terrific entertainment. I remember reading it as I maneuvered through hallways stuffed with students, holding it up like a shield. Eleven years later, it is still one of my absolute favorite books.
- Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut: Vonnegut is one of those writers you simply must read as a teenager. There's something imperceptibly taboo about the prose, something tinged with sarcasm and wit that begs to be read in a school cafeteria or park bench or shopping mall (someplace where you'll be seen, right? So everyone can be impressed by what you're reading?). Yeah, at the age of 15, I thought I was the coolest kid in town with an iced coffee in one hand and a copy of Cat's Cradle in the other. But teen snobbishness aside, the novel took a sledgehammer to my traditional literary taste. I'd never read anything that was so funny, yet so scary. I didn't know when to laugh or cringe, so I learned a lot about myself before the book's ludicrous conclusion. Great stuff.
- My Losing Season by Pat Conroy: Never has a book about basketball been so poetic, so infused with whimsy and wonder, as in this stunning autobiography. Conroy, responsible for another of my favorite novels The Lords of Discipline, describes basketball with such grand elegance that it hardly feels like a sport at all. It becomes life. His life. With every pass, every layup, every squeaking sneaker, the novel hurls you from one memory to the next, spinning a story that is graceful but urgent. As a writer, I often find myself crawling back to Conroy, hat in hand, marveling at how the man structures sentences. I hate to be cliche, but here it is: This book is a slam dunk.
- Watchmen by Alan Moore, Dave Gibbons, and John Higgins: Here it is - the graphic novel, the one that keeps you reading page after page, frame after frame, craving the next piece of the puzzle, the next glorious moment of redemption or retribution. Before this, my high school nose still wrinkled at the thought of reading a 200-page comic book. Yup - this was high school pretension at its finest. But once I opened the front cover and started the adventure, I couldn't stop. I read the entire novel in one night - my eyes glued to the artwork, my brain riveted by the plot. By the time I finished reading, a moon-sized chunk of my elitist literary taste had been shattered. Thank God. This book saved me. It expanded my horizons, revealing my conceitedness in the process. I've changed a lot in the last 10ish years, but one of my most cherished personal lessons is to not be a stuck-up jerk. This novel helped me see that. Thanks again, Watchmen. I mean it.
- Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller: Good God, what a play. As a 17-year-old, I'd never read anything like it. Arthur Miller's vivid writing barely needs actors to bring the characters to life. They simply are. This is an absolutely astonishing play. I've always been a fan of theater (I was a speech minor in college, which meant I took classes like "Acting," "Directing," and so on), but up until that point I'd only experienced the silly stuff. Grease and The Music Man come to mind. Death of a Salesman was my first glimpse into the tacit horror, the latent sorrow, that the stage can capture. Miller tells the tragedy of Willy Loman with such realism, such purity, that it's barely endurable. It's an essential piece of American art, and showed me that the stage isn't all bright lights and pratfalls. It's misty tears and deflated dreams. It's bravery and cowardice and everything in between. It's life and death.
College (ages 17-22)
- The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen: This is certainly one of my favorite novels, and I've already written about it at length (see my "Top 10 Books of the 2000s" for details), so I'll keep this short. I read this novel for a class called "Contemporary American Prose" taught by the eternal Dr. William Holder, and it opened my eyes not only to the bustling (and horrifying?) world around me, but also exposed my soul, as optimistic and terrified as it was. It's hard not to see parts of yourself in many of the characters, notably the three Lambert children: depressed yet devoted Gary, frustrated yet fun-loving Denise, and cynical yet scholarly Chip. The characters are so universal, their experiences so finely tuned to the frequencies of human experience, that they're impossible to ignore. This is a great read, but a tough one to stomach. The revelation of the title's significance is particularly jarring. This one woke me up and wrung me out. What an experience.
- The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: By the time I read this book in college, I had already tried it once before. I was a high school freshmen, and thought I'd tackle it in a weekend. How wrong I was. My 14-year-old brain couldn't absorb Fitzgerald's prose, couldn't process all the rich characters and the environment they inhabit. As a 20-year-old, I soaked it all up like a sponge. To this day I spend every waking moment wishing I could write a novel like The Great Gatsby. The language is flowery and ornate, reminiscent of the art-deco design popular at the time. Honestly, I love and hate this book in equal measure. It's gorgeous, yes, but ultimately infuriating. No one will ever write like Fitzgerald could, so its beauty sits pristine and unreachable - isolated by its own decadence. I'll end with an excerpt from the novel: "For Daisy was young and her artificial world was redolent of orchids and pleasant, cheerful snobbery and orchestras which set the rhythm of the year, summing up the sadness and suggestiveness of life in new tunes. All night the saxophones wailed the hopeless comment of the Beale Street Blues while a hundred pairs of golden and silver slippers shuffled the shining dust. At the gray hour there were always rooms that throbbed incessantly with this low, sweet fever, while fresh faces drifted here and there like rose petals blown by the sad horns around the floor." Wow.
- Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? by Edward Albee: During my junior year of college, I became very intimate with this play by Edward Albee. It basically goes like this - two married couples, one young and one old, have a cocktail party. Throughout the night, it all goes horribly awry. While this is a relatively simple story, the character complexities and thematic nuances elevate it to a whole other level. You spend the entire play walking a tightrope, and when you fall (and you certainly will), it's a sickening plummet into a nightmarish abyss. I was foolhardy enough to direct the climax of this epic play for my directing class, and I think (and hope!) I pulled it off. This is not an easy play to direct, to read, or to watch. It's a piercing examination of tormented souls. It's a hideous concoction of fear, animosity, and rage. Take a drink, if you dare. Find out if you too are afraid of Virginia Woolf. I know I am.
- Richard III by William Shakespeare: Although I'm a voracious reader (and always have been), I'd harbored a deep rooted fear of Shakespeare ever since I was introduced to his work. From 9th grade English with Romeo and Juliet to 12th grade English with Othello and Hamlet, I was petrified. It always seemed so removed from my awareness - so far off and incomprehensible. The language went way over my head, and I couldn't identify with the characters. So, when I found out I had to take an entire class on Shakespeare's literature in order to get my college degree, I put it off as long as possible. Then, by the time my senior year rolled around, I couldn't procrastinate anymore. Our first text was Richard III and I had only a week to read it. I was mortified. Finally, when I gathered the courage to pick up the damn thing, I was amazed that I understood it! Don't get me wrong, I read very slowly and took copious notes (Wikipedia was quite handy, too), but I managed to get through it! Even better, I enjoyed it! With this play, I conquered my fears and moved on to other Shakespeare plays that I liked even more (I'm particularly fond of The Tempest and Othello).
- The Dark Tower series by Stephen King: "The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed." How can you not love a series that starts with a sentence like that? King's sprawling 8-book story (plus a short novella that precedes it all) is perhaps the richest, most imaginative, most entertaining series I've ever read. Really. Of all the books King has written over the decades, and there sure have been lots, the Dark Tower saga stands proudly in the center. Many of his most popular books inhabit this shared universe, like The Stand, It, Hearts in Atlantis, and even The Shining. I won't say too much about this again - I've already published a comprehensive "Dark Tower review" on this blog - but I will say that these books are phenomenal fun and you should dig in ASAP. With wonderful prose, outlandish plots, and (most importantly) memorable characters, these 8 novels are near-perfect. During the busiest summer of my life (graduating college, starting a new job, moving across the country, getting married, etc.) this series provided the perfect distraction, the perfect comfort. They are intimately woven into my life, echoing brightly alongside the many memories of that important summer.
...and that's what books are, right? Inherited memories, shared dreams. The good ones teach us to think, to empathize, to imagine. Reading electrifies the spirit and broadens the mind. It solidifies our humanity. It makes us who we are. These twenty books define me. Without them (or, perhaps, with twenty different books), I'd be someone else. Although I'm curious who that man would be, I'm relieved he doesn't exist. A profound love of literature teems in my veins, rests in my marrow. It's a major part of who I am. I'm thankful for that.
Thanks. Now go grab a book and get reading.
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