Literary B-Sides: 5 of the Most Under-Rated Books from Famous Authors
5: Maurice by E. M. Forster
Maurice Hall dreams that one day, the perfect counterpoint to his soul will appear, and a voice will proclaim, “This is your friend.” While studying at Cambridge together, Maurice and Clive Dunham become more than friends, but the magic doesn’t last. Published posthumously, Maurice is E. M. Foster’s only novel about a gay relationship. In typical Forster style, delicate layers of feeling accumulate around a single era in a person’s life. The scenes in which Maurice and Clive experience their most happy day together are exquisitely sweet and painful, with the longing for that tender moment when first love and youth seem like they will last forever. Maurice is what gay literature should be: filled with sincere humanity and insight, not bitterness or political polemic.
Experts claim that in the original version of A Room with a View, E. M. Forster intended to write Lucy Honeychurch as a male character conflicted about a budding gay romance with George Emerson. I’m relieved he didn’t do that, as A Room with a View has a surprisingly subtle understanding of the relationships between men and women. On a more personal level, I identified with Lucy Honeychurch at a time in my life when I felt lost and confused in the same way she did, which is why, years later, I based my first novel, Queens of All the Earth, on the story of A Room with a View. But Forster’s other works, which are sometimes the fodder of high school reading lists, are considerably more pessimistic, thematically ambiguous, and generally a pain to read. A Passage to India and Howard’s End might be rewarding after a few stretches and some warming-up, but try to sprint through them cold and you’ll pull a muscle. Maurice, like A Room with a View, is a gentler novel, untinged by the bitterness that creeps into Forster’s more famous works. And it’s a refreshing break from the paradigm of current gay books and movies, which shout, “You have to accept me because I’m different from you and differences make us special.” Maurice is a quiet, simple statement: “I have a heart; I feel; I long for love and a stable life, like you.”
4: Billy Budd by Herman Melville
Foretopman Billy Budd is so handsome and well-loved on H.M.S. Bellipotent that the ship’s master-at-arms, John Claggart, absolutely must destroy him. This compact tale of envy, resentment, and injustice has inspired an eclectic array of adaptations, including an operetta by Benjamin Britten and E. M. Forster, and a film by French director Claire Denis. Melville’s thick vernacular style becomes suddenly more comprehensible when read aloud, like a sailor telling a story. And then, through the heavy ornate tangles of the prose, a seething spellbinding tale emerges that will grip readers to the very end. Sadly you won’t be able to use your copy of Billy Budd as a blunt instrument for effective self-defense in the same way you could wield virtually any hardback copy of Moby Dick, but its brevity has other advantages: when I say it will “grip you to the very end,” I mean it – you can actually get to the end of this one.
Next: The Ayn Rand Novel Ayn Rand Doesn’t Want You to Read
Everybody around me has been telling me I absolutely have to read We the living because is great but under-rated. Hope to find some time to start it soon
Compared to rands other bricks, it is a very short book, and probably her best novel.
Actually, although “We, the Living” is an outstanding book, I would instead recommend Rand’s short, powerful novel “Anthem” as containing almost all the philosophy found in “Atlas,” “Fountainhead,” or “We, the Living,” AND, by golly, it’s concise, something Rand had difficulty with.
Ron Pittenger, Heretic
Actually, I would recommend Anthem. I strikes directly to the heart of her philosophy, and it’s an hour read, tops.
I agree about The Awakening; it was a wonderful novel. My choice for Ayn Rand would be Anthem, and Seymour: An Introduction and Raise High The Roof Beam, Carpenter are as unduly neglected as is Franny And Zooey, IMO. And although Billy Budd is a fine novel, I might choose The Confidence Man.
I found The Eden Express by Mark Vonnegut to be as gripping as anything his much more famous father wrote. And Grendel by John Gardner was a marvel.
Other excellent novels are Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, one black man’s hallucinatory journey to existential self-awareness, and Ringolevio by Emmett Grogan, a counterculture novel by the ultimate insider.
Amazed and gratified to see these appreciations of We The Living. I wrote three blogs about Rand’s novels and her ideology, and I think that her first novel is by far the best one. See http://clarespark.com/2011/04/16/index-to-ayn-rand-blogs/.
If we are looking into neglected Melville novels, Pierre is also a great read and a key to Moby-Dick. The Confidence Man is very dark and was only picked up after the second world war. For my entire take on Melville’s politics, see http://clarespark.com/2010/06/12/preface-to-second-edition-of-hunting-captain-ahab/. There is material on Billy Budd there. All of his books are controversial, but of all of them, Billy Budd is the key to the Melville Revival. If you think his execution was justified, you will be in synch with the ultra-conservative Melville revivers.
Thanks. I’m listening to an audio version of “Bartleby the Scrivener” and love it. I will check out Pierre.
Billy Budd is a very misunderstood novel. It places the main charectors in impossible dilemas because of the sadistic actions of one person, The Master at Arms. Was the hanging of Billy Budd justified, no it was not but it was necessary. Billy Budd understood it himself as he was a sailor even before being impressed into the British Navy. We know Billy Budd understood it was necessary because his last words were, “God Bless the Captain”. He said it without malice and to help ease the minds of his mates who would have to haul him up to his death.
I wrote a “book report” in eleventh grade sympathetic to Claggard and justifying his hatred of Budd. For brevity, raw power, and contemporary import and relevance, none of Melville’s longer works compare to Benito Cereno.
David — I’m glad to see someone else cite “Benito Cereno” To me, it is the complete counter-example to those who find the Melville of “Moby Dick” flaccid and diffuse or the Melville of “Billy Budd” preachy and obvious. It was years before I knew that “Benito Cereno” was based on the Amistad incident (having first been introduced to Benito Cereno as a high school junior). A meditation on the nature of evil, a prophecy of the coming American Civil War, take it any way you like. But, 40+ years after having done a series of papers on it as a college junior, I find that the vein of Benito Cereno has yet to be played out for me.
OK, not a novel, but if you had to suffer through Ulysses (or worse, Finnegans Wake), try:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dubliners
Good call
I *loved* Dubliners! One of the best story collections ever. Somerset Maugham’s short stories are also very engaging.
It’s hard for me to understand the comments here about A Passage to India. The implication seems to be that it’s a difficult book. I think it’s extremely accessible. The first chapter is one of the most beautiful passages ever written in the English language, a few pages of descriptive writing that could stand alone as a prose poem. It delivers a world-class set of metaphors on a silver platter. The second chapter jumps immediately into compelling and amusing dialog, while clearly signaling the themes to be explored. No stretching required, or sprinting, either.
maybe if you had read past the sentence that you disagreed with and finished the article before jumping to your keyboard….just maybe….. ah, never mind
Forster’s essay on tolerance spoke to me, but as for Melville and most any other 19th century writer, style kills content. Lincoln had it right-brevity. Somerset Maugham is sadly neglected, here and in school books, which is just a tragedy. Truly the finest writer of the 20th century.
Cris, you are right about brevity and Melville, though he could write concisely when he was less conflicted. He had his own problem with democracy, but also he was dependent on his father-in-law, the conservative Whig, Lemuel Shaw, Chief Justice of Massachusetts. So between the hiding and the ambivalence on many subjects of the day, he wrote too much and too obscurely at times.
I recently read “The Magician” by Somerset Maugham which is in the public domain (i.e., free). It was excellent.
I’m with you Cris. Maybe not the best but certainly way up there. Made it a project when I was young enough to go about things in such a way to read everything Maugham wrote. Ashenden is core reading for anyone interested in espionage literature. My hands-down-favorite Maugham character is Ginger Ted in “The Vessel of Wrath” which I’ve always believed inspired Forester’s “The African Queen.”
I’m not fond of your choices, but I’m impressed with your analysis. Besides, I don’t place much faith in mine, so maybe it’s time to give these another look. Great article!
Erich Remarque, All Quiet On The Western Front, fits your assumption and remains one of my favorite all time after college reads.
I had forgotten that book, read it over 20 years ago, but still remember it as one of my favorites
Well, I hated Catcher in the Rye with the deepest of hates. And I read it on my own when I was 16 and supposedly just the right age to empathize with that whiny, spoiled little oik, Holden Caulfield. But I didn’t and I don’t.
When I read classics, my go to author is Charles Dickens. Character, plot and style – he had it all and for me no one comes close.
I found David Copperfield much to whiny and much preferred Huckleberry Finn and also prefer Huck to Holden by a lot.
er, “too whiny”
Named my dog Zooey. The bit towards the end when Zooey explains the meaning of the Jesus Prayer to Franny is some of the most beautiful writing. Gets me every time.
As far as Maurice goes, Forster’s friends — who read the “daring” book in manuscript — warned him it was a failure and an especially disappointing one from the pen of such a well-considered novelist. The original ending, where the gay lovers go live in the woods as lumberjacks or something, was cut.
To Salamantis: Grogan published Ringolevio as an autobiography, not a novel. And you, my bookish friend, are the only reader I ever encountered who claimed to have enjoyed The Confidence Man. Good. We bibliomaniacs respect what Melville called the true American type, like you: the isolatoes.
yup — we the living.
Truly; “Billy Budd” is a gripping story.
“The Lightening Rod Man” is another good short story for Melville fans.
Melville, most assuredly, had a firm grip on dark poetry. How can anyone not want to reread “Moby Dick”?
Stephen B. Oates’ “With Malice Toward None” seems to never grow out of date.
And if I may add another book I like to caress; “Anthology of Poetry”.
Reading is like a love affair with your inner most intellect; A love affair that always turns out right.
I thought “The Catcher in the Rye” was a truly great work when I first read it, in eighth grade. For a number of reasons I had to read it twice again as an adult and I came to understand that Jean Kerr was correct–Holden’s problem isn’t that he’s misunderstood, it’s that he’s understood all too well. Whatever our current generation needs, it’s not a book that tells them that all adults are phonies and the what is needed to understand the world is inexperience and ignorance.
I’ve read “We the Living.” People say how wonderful it is; I may well be missing something.
I’ve always thought that among Conrad’s works “An Outcast of the Islands” deserved more attention.
Good call on Joseph Conrad. His “The African-American of the Narcissus” was also an excellent novel. Good luck trying to find it, though….
James Wait wasn’t American, therefore the title should be “The Person-of-Color of the Narcissus”
To read a book today is, for many of those I know, a matter of scheduling, an hour before sleep, a bit of time on the weekend, maybe a day at the beach on vacation. for some few it’s a professional duty, paid employment, what one does as ones career. Seldom is reading for those I know a leisurely activity in pursuit of truth and beauty and the caress of the divine. I find in some works, those long and languid pieces living in harmony with Mark Steyn’s work (as he describes it) propping up a table leg at the discount bin at the major chain store, a careful and considered mind quietly contemplating and personably relating universal insights to the gentle reader, one such author, thinker, speaker being Matthew Arnold, who, in “Preface,” _Culture and Anarchy_ (1869), takes much time and space, more than one would dedicate ones beach time to,to meander along the byways of clear and calm reflection on the human condition and our responses to it. Early in the book he writes::
The whole scope of the essay is to recommend culture as the great help out of our present difficulties; culture being a pursuit of our total perfection by means of getting to know, on all the matters which most concern us, the best which has been thought and said in the world, and, through this knowledge, turning a stream of fresh and free thought upon our stock notions and habits, which we now follow staunchly but mechanically, vainly imagining that there is a virtue in following them staunchly which makes up for the mischief of following them mechanically.
The man is in no hurry to finish a sentence; nor am I in any rush to finish and get on to the next work, some business report or detailed summary of accounts to tend to. Slowly, slowly, one thinks of beauty and truth and, not least, charm. Arnold, others, and time to sit and listen in peace and harmony.
I agree with “We The Living”, Ayn Rand’s most readable novel.
I’d also like to put in a plug for “Better Times Than These”, by Winston Groom. Groom is justly famous for having written “Forrest Gump” (and almost as famous for having been screwed out of any moolah from the movie), but people should also look into BTTT — a terrific, (and un-lefty), novel about the Vietnam War.
Heartily agree on Rand’s “We the Living”. The characterizations are multi-layered and complex, and beautifully integrated into the plot/theme, which is: how socialism inevitably destroys its best individuals. Readers will be surprised at Rand’s largely sympathetic portrayal of Andre, the idealistic communist – his destruction is almost a poignant as that of Kira. The story moves beautifully and logically – I read it in a weekend.
Two books I read in highschool were fine: Willa Cather, My Antonia; Rolvaag, Giants In the Earth. I also discovered O. Henry stories somewhere.
Willa Cather’s “My Antonia” should be the #1 required reading in high school. I did not read it until I was 50-something and consider it the best-written-ever novel, and also the best ‘coming-of-age’ novel.
As I was trying to start a new career as a social studies teacher in The Bronx at the time, I was appalled that the 10th-graders were forced to read “To Kill a Mockingbird”, which is a very long read for a six-week study unit. When I suggested Forster’s 1909 seminal 12,300 word short story “The Machine Stops” as being more relevant than Huxley’s “Brave New World” (bound to elicit many complaints from parents) and Melville’s “Bartleby the Scrivener” in addition to Cather’s “My Antonia”, I was almost tarred and feathered by the Columbia Teacher’s College elitists running that Bloombergian-Gates showcase small school.
sorry, just think that high school students, especially in places where teaching literacy continues to be ignored, would learn to love to read with great writing and long short stories that have relevance to their lives.
my story ended badly – the elitists actually fired me from student teaching because I cared more about the students than liberal ideology. and I was over-50.
K2K,
Well, there’s the problem. You were over 50 (me too), which means you actually GOT an education before DOE elitist group-think took over. It used to be that every 8th grader in the country studied their state history, so I read “My Antonia” at 14. I then had it assigned as a college freshman; it’s one of the best books ever, imho. During this freshman experience (diff. class), I also had to read “Billy Budd” and “Bartleby”.
I will admit I’ve always loved reading; the family joke is upon coming home my first day of school, when asked how I liked it I replied, “I’m NEVER going back.” How come? “They didn’t teach me how to read today!” So when a teacher friend of my mom’s (who’d been a teacher) was asked for a college prep “reading list”, she gave it to me at 8th grade graduation. I dove into that list every summer without thinking how awful I have to read these things, but with the attitude that every book would give me something. As a bonus, wow, did *I* have a leg up when I needed it.
My ONLY complaint was being forced to read, “The Old Man and the Sea”, which I absolutely loathed (still do). I never saw the point — the man v. nature existential struggle could be much better defined by any number of books, w/o the tedium of the reading equivalent of a boring TV fishing show.
my mother was always trying to get me to read “My Antonia” and I never would. finally, at the age of 55, with my mother dead several years, I read it, and loved it. but I don’t think I would have so much if I’d read it when I was a teenager.
btw, if you like Cather, read her novella “The Bohemian Girl.” it’s just gorgeous.
another B-side novel I recommend is “Gringos,” by Charles Portis, who’s better known for “True Grit.” it’s a wonderful enjoyable book about ex-pats in Mexico: grifters, poets, college kids, hippies, archaeologists, and cultists. read it in one sitting.
My favorite Charles Portis novel is Masters of Atlantis. It is one of the most deadpanly funny novels ever written.
Also The Girls of Slender Means is a less well-known masterpiece by Muriel Spark, mostly known for The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.
If you think of Robert Louis Stevenson as a children’s book writer, you might be surprised by the psychological complexity of Weir of Hermiston, although it unfortunately stops abruptly in the middle of a scene because Stevenson dropped dead of a stroke while writing it.
@michiganruth
I should’ve said that I’m from Nebraska, so reading “My Antonia” in 8th grade WAS part of studying state history. The other thing, prob. more important, was my mom was raised very close to Red Cloud, so I personally knew all the towns, descriptions, etc., which made it more real to me. Even into the late 1920s-mid 30s, almost everyone with large farms had “hired girls”. Mom had many stories about them, several she liked and a couple she wished as a little girl would just disappear.
I also should’ve said “college freshman” was in my early 40s, when I returned to finish my degree. However, I enjoyed Cather so much I read almost everything of hers when I was younger (let’s be frank, there weren’t many celebrated Nebr. authors I could read for state pride).
Thank you for the recommendation of “Gringos” — I’ll certainly put that on my “must read” list!
See, when I was in school, they had us reading “Lord of the Flies” and “The Pigman”.
Lord of the Flies I could respect as a warning about the ease at which people slip into barbarism. Unfortunately, it’s not very useful when you’ve gotten to see that happening already, so it was mostly depressing.
All The Pigman seemed to be was a dose of “life sucks and then you die.”
Thanks. agree that there was definitely a focus on the basics, including script-writing for those of us over-50. However, while I do remember my English teachers in Miami, we never read anything by Willa Cather. I just happened to stumble on “My Antonia” while browsing a Border’s.
One of the worst aspects of my trying to become a NYC teacher 2002-2005 was when I tried to take an Education Dep’t. course in Teaching Literacy. One of my profs asked “Why do you want to learn how to teach Literacy? I thought you wanted to teach Social Studies” I might have mumbled that I was observing students who could not read, and that Social Studies was considered a very effective way to improve literacy, much more so than literature.
And, it took many rounds of repeated appointments to get approval for that Literacy class. And then the class was changed at the last minute to English Teaching Methods for all the youngsters getting a free ride in NYC’s Teaching Fellows program, which was mostly about how to find contemporary media that might be relevant to mostly-minority classes.
sigh. America is doomed. I wish I had known what had happened to public education – I would have saved more and certainly never wasted $30,000 and three years trying to retrain to be a teacher after 50. I did have early clues – NYC has History Day, and a friend nominated me to be a judge. I judged Senior essays 2002-2006, and the only credible entries were from private schools. The entries from the elite, competitive admission public schools were awful – badly written and am still recovering from the essay that tried to turn Jane Austen into a proto-feminist.
And then I was told that the public schools actively discourage competition such as NYC History Day.
America is doomed. Two generations already lost. They should ALL be forced to read Forster’s 1909 “The Machine Stops” (easy to find online) because that is still where humanity is headed: total isolation from human communication.
I’m right with you about that boring old man and the sea, DD. Steinbeck sucks.
Hemingway. Maybe you are thinking of The Pearl?
As for writers who were homosexual: Oscar Wilde is perhaps the most famous, although he didn’t write about it. He did write The Ballad of Reading Jail while in prison, which was autobiographical, about his affair with Bosey. I am uninterested in either whether an author is homosexual or in literature about homosexuality. Oscar Wilde was a good writer, whom we can enjoy for his play, The Importance of Being Earnest, and the play Salome which was turned into an opera by Richard Strauss. He was witty and wrote well.
What about whathisname, uh, Shakespeare? Willy, I think, was his first name. Now there was one talented fag.
Herman Melville’s mid-19th century novel “The Confidence Man,” is a portrait of a swindler. Historian Walter McDougall puts forth the case in “Freedom; Just Around the Corner,” that Melville’s con man is the quintessential American.
“Malone Dies, Molloy, The Unnameable.” A novel trilogy of sorts written by an Irishman in French, but then translated into English by himself. Most people think of the play “Waiting for Godot” when they think of Samuel Beckett, but IMO these books should be read by anyone who takes literature seriously. I recommend starting with “Molloy”, because it is the most novelistic, and finishing with “The Unnameable” because it is the least. This is also the chronological order of publication, as I recall.
I guess I went to a weird high school during the 70′s.
I was never assigned any of those books. And the books I was assigned I found BORING to the max.
In fact, I thought I hated reading.
It was later I discovered I didn’t hate reading, I hated what they were giving me to read.
God, there’s a scene in We the Living where the two lovers stare up at the night sky and know that the other is out there full of love, even though one is in a concentration camp that just brought me to tears. It’s been 35 years since I’ve read that novel. Time to read it again.
Thanks for reminding me of it.
I named MYSELF Franny, because of Franny and Zooey, during my freshman year of college. I put it on my nametag outside my door, and everyone in my dorm thought that was my name, and called me by it. I didn’t disabuse them of that notion until the school year was over.
Good lord, why don’t we officially make literature, the arts, music, and everything else culture related a GAY/FEMALE ONLY ghetto.
You want to know why guys reject literature? It is filled with gay stuff (which is guaranteed 100% repellent to guys like a Bud Light beer commercial with catfighting bikini models is repellent to women). And also boring, trivial, and irretrievably girly stuff that has about as much interest to men as a rerun of “Monster Garage” has to your NYC Fashion Week attendee.
There’s not a single book there I’d care to read. They are boring, gay, girly, and speak nothing to me of things related to my own condition as a straight White guy. Why would I read that? Its JUNK.
I’d recommend, instead, in no particular order, “Two Years Before the Mast” by Richard Henry Dana, a real adventure story of California before the Mexican-American war; “Roughing It” by Mark Twain (the old West was weirder than you think); “the Dain Curse” by Dashiell Hammett (featuring his best creation, the Continental Op); “the Care of Time” by Eric Ambler, and “the Levanter,” two masterpieces of innocents caught in espionage that have unexpected depths. Also, “the Last Confederate General of Big Sur,” and “the Abortion 1966: A Historical Romance” by Richard Brautigan and “the Lost World” by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. There is enough action, adventure, suspense, and astonishment to keep the reader amused, while serious matters are discussed. They are stories rather than a PC driven lecture by Al Gore and the Gay Rights brigrade.
Not going to comment on the gay/female ghetto thing, but based on the works you recommend, I’d suggest to you that you check out John Buchan if you are unfamiliar with his work. Also, the Library of America collection of Hammett’s novels is one of the best bargains I’ve ever laid hands on. I prefer Red Harvest to Dain Curse myself, but it does lack the Continental Op.
A minor warning is necessary re: John Buchan. He was a typical English anti-Semite of his time, and had a hatred for the Irish that’s almost scary. Given that, the man could plot with the best of them.
Buchan also wrote “The 39 Steps,” which Hitchcock adapted to film rather amusingly in the early part of his career. It’s a great, kitchy film if you ever have the time. The film was then parodied in a stage rendition that recently found success in London and New York. Buchan certainly knows how to spin an entertaining tale, but as another commenter pointed out, the bigotry evident in his characterizations is pretty appalling by today’s standards.
“…two masterpieces of innocents caught in espionage…”
Innocents caught up in espionage was Ambler’s stock in trade. Ambler was amazingly prolific and seemed to produce a novel a year into his nineties. Most of them involved innocents caught up in espionage and but for a few clinkers, most were a terrific read.
Graham Greene borrowed freely from Ambler but strove for greater depth. Oddly, Greene had great success seeing his novels translated into film while Ambler, who was a screenwriter, saw his books reduced to crap in celluloid.
Someone ought to do a study on why certain writers–Greene, McMurtry–consistently translate well into film while others–Ambler, Wolfe–get screwed. Content? Luck of the Hollywood draw?
You need to read Hubert Selby Jr’s Last Exit to Brooklyn. Very masculine. Very gay. Truly a masterpiece that tosses literary and typographic conventions out the window like confetti. Better literature and better reading than any of the books you mention.
Also Christopher Isherwood’s Berlin Stories. Likewise Somerset Maugham’s Ashenden the Spy stories. Lighten up whiskey. Not all gay writers are mainly concerned with promoting gay culture. Romeo and Juliet ain’t Angels in America.
You could also go further back or pick less slice-of-life topics. How about Bram Stoker’s Dracula, the original Frankenstein, or anything by Edgar Allan Poe? HP Lovecraft? Or even earlier, Tennyson’s Idylls of a King, Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe? I’ve heard that Rudyard Kipling’s Kim was good, though I haven’t read it.
“The love triangle between Kira, a cynical aristocrat, and an idealistic Communist Party member explores realms of moral ambiguity that Rand later rejects in her black-and-white worldview.”
Wow. If one believes there was any “moral ambiguity” in “We The Living”, one *really* didn’t understand the book at all.
I agree. I don’t see how a reader misses the moral clarity, at least in Kira and Andre.
Thank you for a most enjoyable article.
Here’s my nomination for underrated books by famous authors. All of Willa Cather’s later novels are wonderful; but I think the best is her last, “Sapphira and the Slave Girl”. Like so many late works by great artists, it depends for its power not on narrative so much as on atmosphere and suggestion; and like so many late works by true humanists, it is a story of understanding and forgiveness and reconciliation. It’s hard to find, and I’ve only seen it in the Library of America collection of her later novels; but it’s worth seeking out. A masterpiece.
“Foretopman Billy Budd is so handsome and well-loved on H.M.S. Bellipotent that the ship’s master-at-arms, John Claggart, absolutely must destroy him.”
Sounds like the Obama administration’s reaction to the Tea Parties. The Tea Parties are so well-liked by Americans, the Obama administration and all their toadies feel that they have to destroy them. I wonder if Melville was a Tea Party member?
Another reason women should not be allowed to teach. Bad taste in literature. I would rather put pins in my eyes, than read any of those books. I read the Rand. I guess its ok if you are a randite.
You’re out of synch with the times, Walt. Every publisher has at least one editor concentrating exclusively on novels by and for women. Chick lit is all the rage. And urban literature (cute publishing euphemism) ain’t far behind, bro.
I’m a chick not into chick lit either. I found Washington Irving’s Legend of Sleepy Hollow really great and have always been a fan of Edgar Allan Poe and Tennyson. My comment above disappeared, but I’ll repeat myself. How about Lovecraft’s work or Scott’s Ivanhoe for the guys. No pins required for those I would hope.
I went one better in high school. I did book reports on books I made up. By regurgitating what I thought the teacher wanted to hear, I always got a good greade – for books that did not exist. Never get away with it today.
Wow — I had the exact same experience in high school lit. The first half of the term, I read every book, participated in class discussions and, as the teacher requested, offered my own thoughts on the exams. I got a C. I thought, I’m working way too hard for this. So in the second half, I didn’t even open any of the books; I didn’t say a word in class; and I took copious notes. As the teacher was handing out the final, he announced, “Don’t just write what you heard me say in class; show me your own thoughts.” I remember my essay on To Kill a Mockingbird began, “As you said in class…”. I got an A.
This experience utterly turned me off to fiction; I read maybe one novel a decade. Life is too short to waste reading about things that didn’t happen. It did, however, set me up for college. All four years, I followed the same pattern: I sat in the back on the first day and tried to figure out what the teacher wanted. I then spent the rest of the semester sitting in the front row, doing it. Even when it was contradictory. I recall one semester my Tuesday night teacher wanted us to write short, punchy sentences without regard to rules of grammar, while my Wednesday morning teacher instructed us to write long elegant sentences that adhered to all the rules. So I wrote short punchy sentences on Tuesdays and long elegant sentences on Wednesdays and aced both classes.
I finally read Catcher in my late 20s and HATED it! Worst. Book. Ever! The first third was a parade of characters who interact briefly but don’t do much of anything. OK, I thought, he’s laying the groundwork. The plot will emerge any page now. The middle third was a parade of characters who interact briefly but don’t do much of anything. OK, I thought, he’s building to some kind of climax that ties everything together. The final third of the book was a parade of characters who interact briefly but don’t do much of anything. OK, I thought, where do I go to get those hours of my life back?
A girlfriend in college had cats named Franny and Zooey. She insisted Catcher was symbolic. “Symbolic of what?” I asked. “Just symbolic,” she said. OK. I was not at that time a cat person.
A tasty funky fast-moving gem (forgive the mixed metaphors please) is Kurt Vonnegut’s “The Sirens of Titan.” He wrote it as he was moving from sci-fi to “literature” and he was full of power but not yet full of himself as a “writer.” It’s a satire, and a space cowboy kind of book, but much much more, but very American, brilliant, funny and full of pathos. I have taught it to college freshmen for years, and they love it. After more than 40 years, it still rings like a bell. “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” amounts to a water-down knockoff of “Sirens” and I think its author has admitted it. Mark Twain, had he lived to 1959, when the book was published, would have loved it. You see quotes around from people who say “Sirens” is actually Vonnegut’s masterpiece, and I think they are right. It’s a knockout.
On that note, how about Frank Herbert’s Dune series, which is very interesting on a number of levels. Kind of like the sci fi Lord of the Rings in complexity and writing.
I absolutely agree that the context of your enviroment can effect you joy or memory of a particular. When I was reading “cathcer in the Rye”, which I believe was on my own accord, my younger bother was killed. I was fighting the man for avariety of reasons: 1 undiagnosed depression etc. I love the book but it took me a year before I finished and I am not sure about ever reading it again. Franny and his other books, I have a fond memory of.
My baby is now 14, and I have been trying to figure out a way to ease her into the “classics.” I already screwed up because she hates “to Kill a Mockingbird.” I pushed her too early-she says she doesnt understand it. But it kills me because I am a student of southern history, race relations and a criminal defense atty. Its tough to turn on kids on good reading (this is not an indictment on the “modern educated youth” it was the same with me when I was in grade and high school. I just remember my real introduction to fiction was in the 9th grade in the 70′s with Kurt Vonnegut. Prior to that I always read non-fiction.
You forgot “V” by Thomas Pynchon.
V is indeed an absorbing read, but The Crying of Lot 49 only snaps into focus once you realize it’s an indictment of America (which is where Pynchon lost me). I couldn’t begin Gravity’s Rainbow, let alone finish it…
There was plenty of information available in the US about the horrors of communism in the Soviet Union. Nobody wanted to know.
Here’s a “B-side” book that I loved. “The Confessions of Felix Krull, Confidence Man,” by Thomas Mann. The chapter in which Felix and his father go to the theater is a profound description of the reality of illusion.
I strongly agree with #30. Gene Dillenburg
“catcher in the rye” is Worst.Book.Ever to be on any required reading list. I too read it when I did not have to and after my college years. I do have a very close second – “Portrait of a Lady”
24. whiskey – wonder where you place “The Scarlet Letter”. The scene in the forest is the hottest literature I’ve ever read. My college professor insisted that we not ahead to that chapter but that we read it in class , to ourselves. Unforgettable experience of the whole class reading in class and everyone can hear the breathing rate of everyone else increasing.
The novels I would recommend to teenagers would be “Huck Finn” , if just for the ‘I am going to go to HELL then’ paragraphs and
“The Rise of Silas Lapham” which presents important life issues in a highly readable manner.
I nominate Chance, by Joseph Conrad. No one reads it anymore and it’s one of my very favorite Conrads, the only one where the protagonist is a female character. The cruelty in that, and the serendipity in it, and how the girl grows, is truly an amazing story. I’ve never forget that evil English governess (I don’t think Conrad ever came up with anyone viler except maybe in Victory) or the freakish Madoff-like father or the freakout climax in the captain’s quarters that will leave you screaming. Whoa! Wow!
I was condemned to read Billy Budd in college. The only part of that review I can identify with is that it has “heavy ornate tangles” of prose, which is to say it is a Melville work. Even assuming one can keep pace with his staggeringly archaic vocabulary (which is nonetheless impressive), the man could plod like no one before or since. The only redeeming thing was that it wasn’t as utterly pointless as the execrable Bartleby.
I remember being assigned Conrad’s ‘Heart of Darkness’ in high school. The paperback copy we were given had a bonus novella at the back called ‘The Secret Sharer’, that was just amazing. I never finished HoD, but I never turned the book back in, and have it to this day.
I also agree with those who mentioned Ellison’s ‘Invisible Man’ and the almost criminal overlooking of Somerset Maugham.
Animal Farm says it all about what the politicians have done to this country.
Ernest Hemingway and William Faulkner were the two giants whom the 20th century self-selected. Nobel Prizes meant something in those days; and they were awarded because the 1920s were when a true American literature finally arrived on the international scene.
Note to the Maugham readers: Also try Theater and Christmas Holiday. A bitterly miserable human being, who himself confessed to no “talent” as a writer, but remarkably durable as an artist. Check out his plays, too.
I am lovin’ this thread.
My favorites by Hemingway were his early Nick Adams stories. His novels are forgettable and forgotten.
Shelby Foote’s novels were Faulkneresque and made better reading than Faulkner. Robert Penn Warren was also a more satisfying read. Warren’s short story, Blackberry Winter chilled and haunted me in my youth.
Love of Vonnegut: the hallmark of the mediocre mind.
Right on, rispic. Never got through a Vonnegut novel and I tried several times.
I nominate Chance, by Joseph Conrad. No one reads it anymore and it’s one of my very favorite Conrads, the only one where the protagonist is a female character. The cruelty in that, and the serendipity in it, and how the girl grows, is truly an amazing story. I’ve never forget that evil English governess (I don’t think Conrad ever came up with anyone viler except maybe in Victory) or the freakish Madoff-like father or the freakout climax in the captain’s quarters that will leave you screaming. Whoa! Wow!
Why no mention of William Faulkner? Is he unread these days? “Intruder in the Dust”, though not one of Faulkner’s best, is certainly superior to “To Kill a Mockingbird” (and the movie version of it is also superior to the “Mockingbird” movie).
Another example of the dumbing down of our society. Disappointed to see it in this forum, though…
Might I suggest a work by a very great American Author – Annie Dillard
“Pilgrim at Tinker Creek” is to quote Amazon’ s Reviewer – “A passionate and poetic reflection on the mystery of creation.”
It is indeed. Absolutely spellbinding.
I first brought it in Blackwells in Oxford in 1976. I was with an American friend. Pointing to a pile of said book which were selling at a rate of knots, she simply said: buy it now. Nearly 40 years later and I’ve just now ordered my umpteenth copy from Amazon. All my previous copies have the disconcerting habit of wandering off – never to be seen again.
A work of consummate artistry. Nothing more to be said.
Jez @ Chichester UK.
review
If we can expand this discussion to include works in translation (unless you can read Spanish), Jorge Luis Borges was the greatest master of the short story in ANY language. He could do in five pages what the repulsively overrated Gabriel Garcia Marquez couldn’t do in fifty…
“…Jorge Luis Borges was the greatest master of the short story in ANY language…”
Only if you’re a permanent newbie.
I read WE THE LIVING when I was in high school, a sophomore probably, and ADORED it. Couldn’t tell you why right now…I’m sure I could never read anything that depressing as an adult. What does that say about teenaged me?
Really interesting, insightful post.
Just like the author said, the one thing I learned from the reading assignments in HS was how to copy exactly what the teacher said and turn it into an essay. I hated all the book assignments even though I’ve been an avid reader since early childhood. Somehow school (in virtually every class) managed to make me hate the books or the lesson so much that I only really read one of them, which was Animal Farm. If you can make a bookworm hate books you officially fail at teaching.
Thanks Public School! /sarc
You wouldn’t believe the drivel that high school students are reading now-a-days. I have a 15-yr-old book lover that has been assigned nothing since middle school but postapocalyptic novellas involving children and adults murdering each other for the greater good of the society–Hunger Games, The Giver, all of it. THe only books I’ve recognized on her reading lists were To Kill a Mockingbird, Huck Finn, and Romeo and Juliet.
I talk to my community college students about Hemingway, Chopin, Milton, Kafka, RObert Frost, Wilfred Owen, Lord Byron, etc. and they look at me as if I’m speaking in Urdu. Occasionally one will admit to having heard the name somewhere.
ANd don’t EVEN get me started on publishing today. . . !
I have a suggestion: Next time PJM Lifestyle gets into a discussion of books and films, how about focusing on books that vastly influence events.
Everyone knows that Uncle Tom’s Cabin deeply and significantly influenced attitudes toward slavery and its abolition. But I’ve never read comment on the influence of the novel and film The Ugly American on our aggressive anti-communist entanglement in southeast Asia.
I’m sure there are other examples of directly influential works of fiction and the subject merits attention.
I have always liked to read.
For what it’s worth, my Senior in high school AP class students would have read from among the following works (some were assigned summer reading): Walden, Civil Disobedience, An Essay Concerning John Brown, all by Thoreau, Orwell Essays, The Dubliners – James Joyce, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek – Dillard, Into the Wild – Jon Krakauer (to accompany Walden), All the King’s Men – RP Warren, The Old People, The Bear, Delta Autumn, The Sound and the Fury – William Faulkner Excerpts from the Bible and the Epic of Gilgamesh, King Lear – Shakespeare, In Our Time – Hemingway, To the Lighthouse – Woolf, Cat’s Eye – Atwood, Dispatches – Michael Herr Lots of classic poems from TS Eliot, Yeats, Whitman, Frost etc. These students were much smarter than your average English student, but still tending toward some of the same tima and labor-saving shortcuts.
The reading list and methods for my lower level sophomores were much different, but we did read A Tale of Two Cities – Dickens, The Epic of Gilgamesh and a lengthy Bible unit from both Testaments, A Night to Remember – Lord, A Midsummer Night’s Dream – Shakespeare plus other more accessible titles like Early Autumn – Parker, the Pete Hamill book with the Golem, whose name escapes me in this senior moment, The House on Mango Street – Cisneros.
Both classes also did substantial grammar units.
Teaching tough books always runs the risk of alienating kids from “liking” to read, but I knew that if I didn’t push them, it was unlikely that anyone else would. In general, I would agree that many teachers are now moving toward more accessible contemporary literature.
Now that I am retired I read mostly histories and primary source stuff from Guns Germs and Steel, to David McCullough to documents in our historical society.
HA! I love the picture, sorry; I know it’s not the point, but Ravenclaw for the win! I do agree. It seems to be the cause for a lot of people. My favorite author is a best seller, but Holly Black is vastly over shadows by the inventor of you articles pictures, and my cheese shout out. >_<….
Balderdash!!! 50%+ of what passes for “great literature” in English classes is crap. Pure, unadulterated crap. It was crap when I read it (and I did read all that was assigned in 4 years of Advanced English classes), it’s still crap.
Why? Because 50% of it is about people wallowing about in their own heads. Shakespeare works so well even 4 centuries later because it’s written for the stage. Theatergoers wouldn’t stand for the sort of narcissistic headfarting that marks most “great literature” as defined by people who would rather READ about other’s emotions than actually go out and LIVE. Even when they’re busy “emoting” and wrestling with their “inner demons”, The Bard’s characters did it and got on with their lives in short order, unlike the gawdawful, endless headfarting of The Invisible Man and so many others of the sort, most of which doesn’t even have the decency to relieve the eternal angst with some humour.
The “educators” seem to gravitate towards these books because, … well, hell if I know. Do the books suddenly reveal to the kids that other people struggle with situations and emotions? Kids aren’t that clueless, nor are many of them so shielded from the continuous drumbeat of “oh, you poor child, you’re not alone.”
Maybe the teachers gravitate to these titles because of the “great themes”. Me, I think maybe they do it because they’re sadists. They want to take their charges and force them to stew in more headfart, under the paradigm that misery loves company.
agreed …
talk about mostly navel gazing BS …
I’d cast Romola Garai as Franny.
Maggie Lawson.
Orwell fans should check out his “Coming Up For Air.” A great read and extremely funny, sad, and depressing. After you read it, you will agree!
I’m amazed that there is somebody else out there who actually thinks “Shirley” is a great read. I’ve always thought it was the best of Charlotte B’s novels – despite it being regularly dismissed by the cognoscenti. And you’re right: it’s way superior to “Villette” which is tedious by comparison. Of course, one of the most sheerly enjoyable Victorian novels is by the “other” Bronte, Anne. “The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall” is just a great read. It may not be “important” or “seminal” but somehow I read it a lot more than most of the Required Reading Novels.
The famous novelist with the best “lesser” novels, however, has to be Hardy.