"The Assistant"
Bernard Malamud, 1957.
I initially wanted to write down all books as I started reading them and as I finished, and this is probably the place to do it with a text file kept elsewhere of simple dates. I also lately picked up and read The Assistant, thanks to the local library.
I'm noticing a great deal that books I choose are being chosen because I believe it will be a fun read, or easy to get. I had to send away from my univerisity (UWS) to another to get this book, and read it quick enough to return without getting a late fee. "THE ASSISTANT" as a title said to me that there was double-crossing, very complicated Office shinanigans, goings on and some female James Bond action going to happen.
When I found out it was about Frank, the assisstant, and his attempts to help w poor Jewish family with their down-in-the-dumps grocery store I was once again completely sideswiped (much as when I bought a copy of "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret." While the expectations never match the real book, they give plenty of ideas for stories I could write later on, I mean doesn't a sexy stealthy pro-self female James Bond who's saving the Office sound kinda fun?
Regardless, The Assistant was an easy, pleasant read, filled with the want to keep reading and see how this pathetic lot did. They're jewish, their poor, and the grocer himself is relentlessly forgiving of everyone for everything. He gets mugged one night and Frank shows up, willing to work for the shop while the grocer recovers.
As the story goes along we see more and more ups and downs that swell the hopes of the grocer and his family, and drown our their spirits entirely. Frank's own hopes keep wavering between doing good, stopping himself from doing bad and wanting redemption but not being able to face the hurt of those he must face up to.
It's a lose-lose situation, it seems, yet the human spirit of mere existance, and the happiness garnered from the simple existance, keeps the story moving, and all characters inside it. Much like Winstan Smith and the Inner Party, against all hope the reader wants the best and wants to see if the characters get it or not, whether our heroes win in the end.
They do and they don't. It raises discussion between like minded readers and always ALWAYS points a finger at some aspect of social living that deserves more attention. The Assistant is a good read because you feel quite akin to Frank and the grocer and his family, as they're regular people with every day troubles. Not that I've ever run a shop, but I've run the same gambit of hopes and broken dreams that these characters do.
I could see myself rereading the book in several years, or perhaps when I purchase my own copy. This is different from, say, Naked Lunch, which I will most certainly buy and with a passion, but don't imagine I'll be in any savage hurry to reread. The concept is naked, and truthful, and I can see why there are so many barriers up to stop the world from being "just so".
I also enjoy the thought process that goes into "Will I read this again or not?" once done with a book. You make up your mind, tell your co-readers what you will wont do and why, and then share. Maybe you'll encourage them to read again, maybe they'll show you a different light in which to take the book.
The best example of argument for this is Clockwork Orange, or any book that challenges the language of every day life. Nadsat was hell the first time through the book, but being a brash young boyo like myself I was determined to master it, so read it a second time. Got it down. Third time though I knew the language, and the story, so was much better able to enjoy Alex and his intelligence despite such beastly behavior. And thanks to all these thoughts when I suggest Clockwork Orange to anyone I tell them "It's short, but you'll likely read it three times."
The best book for rereading however has to be Lewic Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I've read it twice this year already and picked it up again yesterday. I've also seen Tim Burton's movie (a good fleshing out of characters but it's genre changes from literary nonsense to adventure, a discouraging move) and found an old copy of Jan Svankmajer's 1988 stop motion "Alice."
Neuromancer
I've only just started Neuromancer, but it's sat on my brothers bookcase for years now. The name and cover warned me that this was yet another sci-fi book, and wasn't I beyond all attempts at serious sci-fi, saving myself for only silly nonsense and fun sci-fi, ala Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?
Of course that warning turned into a delight when I found Neuromancer on the List, and already found by a matter of years. Reading the first few pages I'm reminded of, of course, Bladerunner, and every other sci-fi "good book" that I've read. They've got conviction in their new-age devices, mentioning their exciting names and detailing them very proficiently with minimal effort, then continuing on their way. I love a good sci-fi with enhanced human abilities, but the riverlet that started became an ocean and now is an entire world of it's own, all continents on this water-world calling out "Yeah, we're the best."
Starting as an idle glance, then reading far more than I had expected to, I've got high expectations of Neuromancer, but will ultimately leave happily if I just get a good amount of fun action from it.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Rabbit, Run
"Rabbit, Run"
John Updike, 1960.
The tale of a young man, determined to break free of his oppresive life. He abandons his family and takes up a girlfriend and the novel chases him around, through his many mental loops, thoughts and considerations and circles of fearful logic.
Every person feels trapped about certain things. Friend groups. Studies or work. Relationships. When it gets too much you've got options, and one of them is the run. This is Rabbit's such story, and we find him being a man against the world, as many novels in the List tend to be. Reading about his many nights running from person to person from his past remind me of my own night's when it's all felt like too much, and I've simply got up and moved anywhere to get the feeling of being trapped out of me, and to be rid of stagnation.
He's a fun character and not without benefits. He's quite a loner, as the only people he can play basketball with are much younger, and find he ruins the game. A highschool champ in his time, even his original passtimes are against him. His family, including a wife and child, is the same dreary drudge every day, and with another child on the way he baulks. He could have been a bigger man and stayed around, but he doesn't stray too far.
His girlfriend, Ruth, feels the fear of falling in love with someone when you're the person on the side. The stoic refusal slowly depreciates into daydream wonderings of what if? and then turn into Oh please yes! She's as much a character as Rabbit is, working nights to make enough money to pay rent and feed herself despite not having a job. She's as blunt and simple as Rabbit is at times, so compliments him in his run, and becomes a place away from everything.
The local holyman also takes Rabbit under his wing, hoping to somehow redeem the lost soul. He seems on Rabbit's side of things, agreeing with the pressures of life while not actively condoning the running from your problems. The relationship they share is one of beared annoyance, as Rabbit wont be swayed from his way, but the priest feels accomplished and endeared to his waylaid child all the same.
His wife is a poorly figure who features as the main pull back to his old life, despite things not really changing, or having changed, at any particular point. To look at the book and it's main event without emotion we see a human's who burst a valve and decided they can't take the pressure--but for how long? The question doesn't become whether everyone blames Rabbit or not, loyalties are indeed called into question and everyone just about places their opinion on the table, but that makes for a simple and boring story without the What next? His pregnant wife allows the story to swing back into itself when it comes time for her to begin giving birth, calling Rabbit back into the joy of his family, the reason he's wound up in the mess he can't currently take.
Whether he will return isn't the question, so much as WHEN he will. Ruth fears it, and knows that he's run away before from someone more dear then she herself is. His wife patiently expects and hates it and needs it at the same time. His parents and his wife's parents are split on it, knowing how very hard he was pushed by his wife in the first place.
It's a complicated and serious look at the central figure of many people's lives, that of the white boy extraordinare, the one man who's forced into a situation (or they see themself as forced into it) and then after breaking the initial accepted mold of their life, continue to tread down as many walls, fences and social boundaries as they see fit. As the book tells us, "If you have the guts to be yourself...other people'll pay your price". I agree with this sentiment entirely.
Rabbit is a jerk but not without being pushed to it. He repents and he sins again, like everyone. He does everything and isn't evil and isn't good. He's man, as man is sometimes to be, scared and small, with headlights turning away your nighttime vision. When you see a car headed for you, what do you do but run?
The best thing about the book is it's ending, of which I can only say that John Updike deserves a pat on the back and his choice of beverage at the bar of his choosing. I'm a big fan of thematic matches, and seeing Scene 1 lead into Scene 3 with an odd item that winds up being a critical plotpoint.
I imagine this book will gain a lot of "me too" moments from readers, as Rabbit isn't meant to gain sympathy so much as exemplify a tormented soul, which we all feel like at one time or another. Whether you agree with what he did, he's relatable, and tells a very good story or "guy running away from things." This sounds like a boring concept, but it's thrilling in his mild successfuls, sweet in his concessions and small returns to his old way of life, but mostly it's about how we all deal with these great human events that constantly occur around, drama.
Man versus the World
A theme I've noticed amongst the List's book is that of a single man, versus the world. Either in a bid against all that is wrong (Winston Smith from 1984) or in naughty boy terms (Alex D'Large from Clockwork Orange) or for the right of human dignity (McMurphy in One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest) we see a lot of men fighting for what they believe in.
The old days of simple cowboys ver indians shows, or comic book days when Batman killed a bad guy because he was labeled as such, are long gone and worth nothing more than a comical glance back. These days fights aren't acceptable without being about something real. Spiderman fights for the people who can't defend themselves, not because decking the Green Goblin is cool. Batman serves to keep the law and order of a depraved city, not because Poison Ivy is scantilly clad. A reason needs to exist for fighting, any kind, to be OK and acceptable for the readerage.
How you actually write that up and tie it into your story is up to you. Without a proper reasoning though we get basically an "action" story/movie, such as 2012. It's wide spread destruction because the Earth's collapsing. OK, city's blow up. That's the point. It's a thrill ride, an "Imagine that!" scenario, and afterwards not very nourishing, mentally.
The books on the List I've read so far fit fantastically into the man versus the world genre, but with amazingly relevant points. The most harrowing may be Lord of the Flies, as Ralph defends sense and law and being civilised to each other, while Jack wants none of it and resorts very easily to his hunter instincts. There is blood and guts and death, but Ralph is fighting for perhaps the most valuable thing to a human -- civility. Without rules and governing, there's nothing to stop your food from being stolen and your house overrun by sitters. The world we live in needs these rules for basic living, traffic lights for driving and Rights of Way and so on.
As well as needing a valid reason to fight, it doesn't hurt that all of these characters are likeable, despite certain evils or large gaps in their own gusto/balls/courage. Alex D'Large, despite all the ultra violence and rape, is still a sympathetic character as we see how he's treated in his mental reconditioning. We know what he's done but some how still care, as he caringly calls us his "dear readers" and "my only friends in this great big world." Despite the crime, their charisma keeps us reading. We don't cheer for him, perhaps, but we keep reading his story to see further points he makes.
I can relate to all such characters in one way or another, and seeing I get an in-book avatar of sorts, and that "I" am fighting for a deep and true human quality, I'm drawn well and truly into a book and hope I come out good in the end. Alright!
That's what the story is meant to do, right? Get me into the book, into the characters, and accepting of the point being made, whatever it is. Government over-control is bad. Super-sluethes are amazing. Dignity is worth a damn.
All these books make points and do it well, though I do have to see a story yet that does as well with a female protagonist. Really. Off the top of my head I can't think of any right now, as even someone as "girl power" as Charlie's Angels falls way off the "done properly" scale, seeing they're relegated to just action, looking 'hot' (it makes the boys drool) and not being taken seriously. For further examples, Cat Woman and Elektra the movie were among the first comic book hero failures. This isn't aimed at the Time's list so much as all medias, and it's quite laughable that the only unsexualised "girl power" group I can name is the Powerpuff Girls.
Rabbit, Run is a good story for anyone you know who's not old enough to get married yet, who's in the exact same position, or has done the same thing themselves. Also of course everyone who wants a good read that's into writing themselves. In fact I'll take this small moment to say that that should be a given, I do suggest all these books and I've only read about 20 myself.
I think the man versus the world stories work best, because they represent the start of something, not just the fighting for a worthwhile idea. If they can fight, AND WIN, then surely they've pathed the way for others, and more should follow and finish the job our hero started. None more so then Winston Smith, I feel.
John Updike, 1960.
The tale of a young man, determined to break free of his oppresive life. He abandons his family and takes up a girlfriend and the novel chases him around, through his many mental loops, thoughts and considerations and circles of fearful logic.
Every person feels trapped about certain things. Friend groups. Studies or work. Relationships. When it gets too much you've got options, and one of them is the run. This is Rabbit's such story, and we find him being a man against the world, as many novels in the List tend to be. Reading about his many nights running from person to person from his past remind me of my own night's when it's all felt like too much, and I've simply got up and moved anywhere to get the feeling of being trapped out of me, and to be rid of stagnation.
He's a fun character and not without benefits. He's quite a loner, as the only people he can play basketball with are much younger, and find he ruins the game. A highschool champ in his time, even his original passtimes are against him. His family, including a wife and child, is the same dreary drudge every day, and with another child on the way he baulks. He could have been a bigger man and stayed around, but he doesn't stray too far.
His girlfriend, Ruth, feels the fear of falling in love with someone when you're the person on the side. The stoic refusal slowly depreciates into daydream wonderings of what if? and then turn into Oh please yes! She's as much a character as Rabbit is, working nights to make enough money to pay rent and feed herself despite not having a job. She's as blunt and simple as Rabbit is at times, so compliments him in his run, and becomes a place away from everything.
The local holyman also takes Rabbit under his wing, hoping to somehow redeem the lost soul. He seems on Rabbit's side of things, agreeing with the pressures of life while not actively condoning the running from your problems. The relationship they share is one of beared annoyance, as Rabbit wont be swayed from his way, but the priest feels accomplished and endeared to his waylaid child all the same.
His wife is a poorly figure who features as the main pull back to his old life, despite things not really changing, or having changed, at any particular point. To look at the book and it's main event without emotion we see a human's who burst a valve and decided they can't take the pressure--but for how long? The question doesn't become whether everyone blames Rabbit or not, loyalties are indeed called into question and everyone just about places their opinion on the table, but that makes for a simple and boring story without the What next? His pregnant wife allows the story to swing back into itself when it comes time for her to begin giving birth, calling Rabbit back into the joy of his family, the reason he's wound up in the mess he can't currently take.
Whether he will return isn't the question, so much as WHEN he will. Ruth fears it, and knows that he's run away before from someone more dear then she herself is. His wife patiently expects and hates it and needs it at the same time. His parents and his wife's parents are split on it, knowing how very hard he was pushed by his wife in the first place.
It's a complicated and serious look at the central figure of many people's lives, that of the white boy extraordinare, the one man who's forced into a situation (or they see themself as forced into it) and then after breaking the initial accepted mold of their life, continue to tread down as many walls, fences and social boundaries as they see fit. As the book tells us, "If you have the guts to be yourself...other people'll pay your price". I agree with this sentiment entirely.
Rabbit is a jerk but not without being pushed to it. He repents and he sins again, like everyone. He does everything and isn't evil and isn't good. He's man, as man is sometimes to be, scared and small, with headlights turning away your nighttime vision. When you see a car headed for you, what do you do but run?
The best thing about the book is it's ending, of which I can only say that John Updike deserves a pat on the back and his choice of beverage at the bar of his choosing. I'm a big fan of thematic matches, and seeing Scene 1 lead into Scene 3 with an odd item that winds up being a critical plotpoint.
I imagine this book will gain a lot of "me too" moments from readers, as Rabbit isn't meant to gain sympathy so much as exemplify a tormented soul, which we all feel like at one time or another. Whether you agree with what he did, he's relatable, and tells a very good story or "guy running away from things." This sounds like a boring concept, but it's thrilling in his mild successfuls, sweet in his concessions and small returns to his old way of life, but mostly it's about how we all deal with these great human events that constantly occur around, drama.
Man versus the World
A theme I've noticed amongst the List's book is that of a single man, versus the world. Either in a bid against all that is wrong (Winston Smith from 1984) or in naughty boy terms (Alex D'Large from Clockwork Orange) or for the right of human dignity (McMurphy in One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest) we see a lot of men fighting for what they believe in.
The old days of simple cowboys ver indians shows, or comic book days when Batman killed a bad guy because he was labeled as such, are long gone and worth nothing more than a comical glance back. These days fights aren't acceptable without being about something real. Spiderman fights for the people who can't defend themselves, not because decking the Green Goblin is cool. Batman serves to keep the law and order of a depraved city, not because Poison Ivy is scantilly clad. A reason needs to exist for fighting, any kind, to be OK and acceptable for the readerage.
How you actually write that up and tie it into your story is up to you. Without a proper reasoning though we get basically an "action" story/movie, such as 2012. It's wide spread destruction because the Earth's collapsing. OK, city's blow up. That's the point. It's a thrill ride, an "Imagine that!" scenario, and afterwards not very nourishing, mentally.
The books on the List I've read so far fit fantastically into the man versus the world genre, but with amazingly relevant points. The most harrowing may be Lord of the Flies, as Ralph defends sense and law and being civilised to each other, while Jack wants none of it and resorts very easily to his hunter instincts. There is blood and guts and death, but Ralph is fighting for perhaps the most valuable thing to a human -- civility. Without rules and governing, there's nothing to stop your food from being stolen and your house overrun by sitters. The world we live in needs these rules for basic living, traffic lights for driving and Rights of Way and so on.
As well as needing a valid reason to fight, it doesn't hurt that all of these characters are likeable, despite certain evils or large gaps in their own gusto/balls/courage. Alex D'Large, despite all the ultra violence and rape, is still a sympathetic character as we see how he's treated in his mental reconditioning. We know what he's done but some how still care, as he caringly calls us his "dear readers" and "my only friends in this great big world." Despite the crime, their charisma keeps us reading. We don't cheer for him, perhaps, but we keep reading his story to see further points he makes.
I can relate to all such characters in one way or another, and seeing I get an in-book avatar of sorts, and that "I" am fighting for a deep and true human quality, I'm drawn well and truly into a book and hope I come out good in the end. Alright!
That's what the story is meant to do, right? Get me into the book, into the characters, and accepting of the point being made, whatever it is. Government over-control is bad. Super-sluethes are amazing. Dignity is worth a damn.
All these books make points and do it well, though I do have to see a story yet that does as well with a female protagonist. Really. Off the top of my head I can't think of any right now, as even someone as "girl power" as Charlie's Angels falls way off the "done properly" scale, seeing they're relegated to just action, looking 'hot' (it makes the boys drool) and not being taken seriously. For further examples, Cat Woman and Elektra the movie were among the first comic book hero failures. This isn't aimed at the Time's list so much as all medias, and it's quite laughable that the only unsexualised "girl power" group I can name is the Powerpuff Girls.
Rabbit, Run is a good story for anyone you know who's not old enough to get married yet, who's in the exact same position, or has done the same thing themselves. Also of course everyone who wants a good read that's into writing themselves. In fact I'll take this small moment to say that that should be a given, I do suggest all these books and I've only read about 20 myself.
I think the man versus the world stories work best, because they represent the start of something, not just the fighting for a worthwhile idea. If they can fight, AND WIN, then surely they've pathed the way for others, and more should follow and finish the job our hero started. None more so then Winston Smith, I feel.
Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret.
Posts may serve a double purpose, both a review and further topic. If such is the case, it will feature the review first, then the extra topic.
"Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret."
Judy Blume, 1970.
The most contraversial book on the first for myself, I remember walking into Dymocks and asking the clerk where I could find "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret." When she began walking I pictured a gray covered book with a distraught mexican migrant, the tale being her woe and grit and determination to make it in a world that didn't care about.
When we headed to the children's section I began having my doubts. When were standing before a shelf of pink books and she handed me one with a white training bra and pink love hearts on it, I knew I'd grossly mistaken what the book would be about. I guess that's another +1 for the old saying Don't judge a book by it's cover, or in this case, title.
Are you there, God? is written by Judie Blume, who also wrote the famous Fudge/Super Fudge series and Tales of a Fourth Grade nothing. My year four class was read this in year four, and I remember even then being ashamed at my classmates for being so blatantly bored by an interesting reading.
Margaret is a girl going through puberty. The book is barely over 100 pages long and deals with amazingly common, deep personal problems. It's written for little girls. The contraversy here was with the book being published in 1970s, when things were a lot more hush hush then they are today, as well as having little girls talk openly about things like boobs, getting your period and pretty much the nauseating adventure through puberty. I remember my own, you can no doubt remember yours. There was nothing better than finding someone with whom I could sit down and discuss things with on a level playing field, and this book is pretty much that same thing, only in ink and paper.
The main crux of the book is Margaret's prayers to God, asking for several things related to fitting in, but focusing on which religion she should take on, her mother's or her father's, being Catholic and Jewish.
Are you there, God? It's me, Contraversy.
Apart from feeling a little weird about listening in on a little girl's thoughts, the book is a very touching experience for a white male who's in his mid twenties. Growing up, developing, I quickly delegated all thoughts about "Developing wrong" to "I don't care, I'm pretty much me no matter what I do" and forgetting about them. To read the other side of the story is a unique look into a world I've often wondered and dreamt about, that of the female.
Aside from being embarassed at the grose misunderstanding of the book, I'm glad to see Time putting the book on their top 100 novels list, it confirmed that I would be reading books I'd never heard about before, and not just the books all your friends are raving about and telling you are "Must reads". Nothing turns my ears off quicker then someone saying "You gotta X, it'll change your life."
I'd site Are you there, God? as the most contraversial choice for the list, seeing it's probably the one and only book little girls could read (I'm imagining 8 year olds here). The list surely isn't for them, not at 8 atleast, so isn't it a waste of a slot? Surely Brave New World or another, more worthy and above ADULT book deserved the slot?
I say not at all. I'm proud to have read the book, have already sited how it's lengthens the depth of the 100 novels and kind of giggle everytime I see the book on my shelf, sitting between Clockwork Orange and Grapes of Wrath. The only other book that I found truly contraversial is Naked Lunch, which has the honour of being the only book I've read, ever, that made me honestly consider putting it down due to content, not for lack of brilliance.
If you've got a younger female relative, buy them this book as it'll be a voice they care share thoughts with and offers them a gasp of fresh relief, when they realise No, it's certainly not just them going through this. And get it for yourself, because it's a unique point of view.
And don't get this confused with Lolita. Both books are about little girls, yes, but from completely different ends of the spectrum.
"Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret."
Judy Blume, 1970.
The most contraversial book on the first for myself, I remember walking into Dymocks and asking the clerk where I could find "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret." When she began walking I pictured a gray covered book with a distraught mexican migrant, the tale being her woe and grit and determination to make it in a world that didn't care about.
When we headed to the children's section I began having my doubts. When were standing before a shelf of pink books and she handed me one with a white training bra and pink love hearts on it, I knew I'd grossly mistaken what the book would be about. I guess that's another +1 for the old saying Don't judge a book by it's cover, or in this case, title.
Are you there, God? is written by Judie Blume, who also wrote the famous Fudge/Super Fudge series and Tales of a Fourth Grade nothing. My year four class was read this in year four, and I remember even then being ashamed at my classmates for being so blatantly bored by an interesting reading.
Margaret is a girl going through puberty. The book is barely over 100 pages long and deals with amazingly common, deep personal problems. It's written for little girls. The contraversy here was with the book being published in 1970s, when things were a lot more hush hush then they are today, as well as having little girls talk openly about things like boobs, getting your period and pretty much the nauseating adventure through puberty. I remember my own, you can no doubt remember yours. There was nothing better than finding someone with whom I could sit down and discuss things with on a level playing field, and this book is pretty much that same thing, only in ink and paper.
The main crux of the book is Margaret's prayers to God, asking for several things related to fitting in, but focusing on which religion she should take on, her mother's or her father's, being Catholic and Jewish.
Are you there, God? It's me, Contraversy.
Apart from feeling a little weird about listening in on a little girl's thoughts, the book is a very touching experience for a white male who's in his mid twenties. Growing up, developing, I quickly delegated all thoughts about "Developing wrong" to "I don't care, I'm pretty much me no matter what I do" and forgetting about them. To read the other side of the story is a unique look into a world I've often wondered and dreamt about, that of the female.
Aside from being embarassed at the grose misunderstanding of the book, I'm glad to see Time putting the book on their top 100 novels list, it confirmed that I would be reading books I'd never heard about before, and not just the books all your friends are raving about and telling you are "Must reads". Nothing turns my ears off quicker then someone saying "You gotta X, it'll change your life."
I'd site Are you there, God? as the most contraversial choice for the list, seeing it's probably the one and only book little girls could read (I'm imagining 8 year olds here). The list surely isn't for them, not at 8 atleast, so isn't it a waste of a slot? Surely Brave New World or another, more worthy and above ADULT book deserved the slot?
I say not at all. I'm proud to have read the book, have already sited how it's lengthens the depth of the 100 novels and kind of giggle everytime I see the book on my shelf, sitting between Clockwork Orange and Grapes of Wrath. The only other book that I found truly contraversial is Naked Lunch, which has the honour of being the only book I've read, ever, that made me honestly consider putting it down due to content, not for lack of brilliance.
If you've got a younger female relative, buy them this book as it'll be a voice they care share thoughts with and offers them a gasp of fresh relief, when they realise No, it's certainly not just them going through this. And get it for yourself, because it's a unique point of view.
And don't get this confused with Lolita. Both books are about little girls, yes, but from completely different ends of the spectrum.
The starting 9
Nothing fancy now. I'm an australian student of the university of Western Sydney, and ever since I can't remember when I've read books, devoured books and otherwise found a book delicious to consume in every way.
I one day found the Time magazine's Top 100 Novels from 1923 to present and after marking off all the books I'd read (9 to start, hense the title) swore to read every novel on the list. That decision was in the spring-warm second half of 2009 and I have just breeched the 20 mark.
My aim with this blog is to give a review, however amatuerish, of each and every book on the list, in no order inparticualr other than as they take my fancy to write about them. Length will vary but all 100 must be spoken of.
My reading started with childish horrors such as Goosebumps. A fine place to start, but not to dwell in once past an adult age. Then my brother turned me onto some other books, "Good one's I swear," such as George Orwell's 1984 and Fahrenheit 451 (not on the list). His guidance would prove critical in leading me to more relevant books (I say relevant in terms of a budding writer wanting to educate themselves) but his ideas were only so-so, garnered from his own reading as opposed to that of the world. Time magazine, which I have never read, presents enough of a pedigree to convince me that have the further readings that I crave.
I am working on several of my own novel ideas right now, none of which I'll discuss here. This is best thought of as an unrequested companion piece to the list, by an amatuer who is very much into a person and their own self education. Next a direct link to the list, and then the books I had read before ever setting eyes upon it:
http://205.188.238.181/time/2005/100books/the_complete_list.html
1984, George Orwell
Clockwork Orange, Anthony Burgess
One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, Ken Kesey
Lolita, Vladimir Nabakov
Animal Farm, George Orwell
Catcher in the Rye, J. D. Salinger
The Lord of the Rings, J. R. R. Tolkien
Tropic of Cancer, Henry Miller
Watchmen, Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons
All big books, with bigger ideas, and a constany theme among them all -- a lack of romantised concern for the every day worries. I find this a powerful writing tool and one that strikes the loudest when considering whether a novel is "worthy of success" or not. A writer who is careful with events or characters loves them too much to sacrifice them for the story. This goes triple for Henry Miller, as he's never apologised for anything and I'm glad he never did.
Next I aim to write about the books I have read since, how I go about deciding which will be read next (50% goes into how the title takes my fancy) and a bit of fun with the contravercial choices in the list.
Thank God there is no Harry Potter.
I one day found the Time magazine's Top 100 Novels from 1923 to present and after marking off all the books I'd read (9 to start, hense the title) swore to read every novel on the list. That decision was in the spring-warm second half of 2009 and I have just breeched the 20 mark.
My aim with this blog is to give a review, however amatuerish, of each and every book on the list, in no order inparticualr other than as they take my fancy to write about them. Length will vary but all 100 must be spoken of.
My reading started with childish horrors such as Goosebumps. A fine place to start, but not to dwell in once past an adult age. Then my brother turned me onto some other books, "Good one's I swear," such as George Orwell's 1984 and Fahrenheit 451 (not on the list). His guidance would prove critical in leading me to more relevant books (I say relevant in terms of a budding writer wanting to educate themselves) but his ideas were only so-so, garnered from his own reading as opposed to that of the world. Time magazine, which I have never read, presents enough of a pedigree to convince me that have the further readings that I crave.
I am working on several of my own novel ideas right now, none of which I'll discuss here. This is best thought of as an unrequested companion piece to the list, by an amatuer who is very much into a person and their own self education. Next a direct link to the list, and then the books I had read before ever setting eyes upon it:
http://205.188.238.181/time/2005/100books/the_complete_list.html
1984, George Orwell
Clockwork Orange, Anthony Burgess
One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, Ken Kesey
Lolita, Vladimir Nabakov
Animal Farm, George Orwell
Catcher in the Rye, J. D. Salinger
The Lord of the Rings, J. R. R. Tolkien
Tropic of Cancer, Henry Miller
Watchmen, Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons
All big books, with bigger ideas, and a constany theme among them all -- a lack of romantised concern for the every day worries. I find this a powerful writing tool and one that strikes the loudest when considering whether a novel is "worthy of success" or not. A writer who is careful with events or characters loves them too much to sacrifice them for the story. This goes triple for Henry Miller, as he's never apologised for anything and I'm glad he never did.
Next I aim to write about the books I have read since, how I go about deciding which will be read next (50% goes into how the title takes my fancy) and a bit of fun with the contravercial choices in the list.
Thank God there is no Harry Potter.
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