Alright, time for my second 50-book challenge! Might be harder this year, given that half my books last year were relatively short Shakespeare plays. But I'll go for it anyway. Wish me luck!

1) The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini. Wow, what a story. I haven't wept openly that much while reading a book in a long time. He writes with a masterful sparseness imbued with immense compassion, empathy, and insight into his culture. The payoff at the end almost didn't make up for the horrors that preceded it, but I suppose that makes it even more real. He is definitely one of the best novelists of our time.

Message edited by its author, Jan 5, 2009, 4:50pm.

yea I'm trying that this year too. I'm reading Love in a Time of Cholera

Oh that is such a good book! Just luxuriate in the poetry of the words, and don't worry if it seems slow at times. Latin writers see fiction in such a different way than Americans do, and it's really refreshing at times. I want to read his One Hundred Years of Solitude soon.

Message edited by its author, Jan 13, 2009, 3:27pm.

2) When You Are Engulfed In Flames, by David Sedaris. This might be my favorite collection of his since Me Talk Pretty One Day. It's just as hilariously perverse and sometimes deeply moving. Yet it has a more mature tone, as if he's learned to relax more, admit his faults, and acknowledge just how insane and funny his life really is. The epic quitting-smoking/Japan chapter at the end is worth the price of admission alone.

3) The Cockroaches of Stay-More, by Donald Harrington. This one was funny, and I give him credit for creating a whole "roosterroach" world and language, but I didn't think it quite went as far as it could have gone. The plot was both fragmented and rushed, and most of the time he sounds like a white guy trying to be Marquez. There are worse role models one could have, though...

I like your reviews!
--BJ

If you enjoyed Love in the Time of Cholera, you will probably really like One Hundred Years of Solitude, bigj. I personally enjoyed One Hundred Years...more than Love in the Time of Cholera.

Message edited by its author, Feb 6, 2009, 8:33am.

Thanks, billiejean! It is fun, I will say...
spacepotatoes, I expect I'll say the same thing when I get to it...

4) Howl and Other Poems, by Allen Ginsberg. Ok, it's a short book of poetry, but that medium takes a lot of intellectual effort, so I'm gonna count poetry during this challenge...

"Howl," the poem itself, kind of scares me, and not just because it's brilliant. I realize that it's been influencing me enormously for a long time, even before I read it all the way through. The other poems in here have their great moments as well.

Hi bigj5683, If you liked "Howl," try "Wichita Vortex Sutra." Ginsburg wrote it ten years after "Howl" and he had lost none of his edge. It's equally as brilliant and best read aloud. You're ahead of me on Marquez. I can't believe that I've never read anything by him. Looks like you're having a great second year!

I'm new to this site. I'm excited about the 50 book challenge. Just finished James Patterson "You've been warned" and prior to Patterson, read Robert Parkers "Rough Weather". Presently, 1/2 way through James Patterson "Cross"
I enjoy a good challenge, so the 50 book challenge will keep me busy.

Hi, Bigj5683!
I agree with you on the poetry. I read several books of poetry last year, and, although they weren't the longest books I read, they did require a little more concentration (or for me at least). I will say that some of them were extremely rewarding and favorites of the year.

#11 Looking forward to following your challenge, Judith!
--BJ

Message edited by its author, Feb 13, 2009, 12:50am.

>4, I can't wait until David Sedaris's book comes out in paperback, but I'm going to try to as I felt like a fool (turning red from going into fits of hysterical giggling) when I started reading Naked at Barnes and Noble.

theaelizabet: I'll definitely check that one out. Ginsberg is the man. Thanks!
Judith: Welcome to the site! It's a helluva lot of fun. I think it's cool to look back on everything you've read or own and share it with others. I've never read any Patterson, but there's just so much literary stuff I want to read first...
billiejean: I'm glad you agree about poetry. I feel validated now! :)
bonniebooks: I can't tell you how many times I've had that same experience at bookstores, ect. I took the new one to the DMV with me, and am sure I looked pretty ridiculous as well. It made everything better, though!

5) Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, by Pablo Neruda. Quite simply, some of the greatest love poetry ever written. Every line and word combination and image is perfectly crafted and many-layered, full of equal measures of devotion and melancholy. And he published these when he was twenty...I mean, holy hell. It's pretty much the literary equivalent to Al Green and red wine. Take note, men, and use it well.

Message edited by its author, Feb 25, 2009, 6:00pm.

6) Cosmicomics by Italo Calvino. This collection of stories is unlike anything I've ever read before. Really beautiful writing and genuinely filled with a sense of awe about all life, not just fairy-tale whimsy. He brings an emotional aspect to the creation of the universe that makes you think about both science and religion in a whole different way. "The Dinosaurs" and "The Spiral" are probably my favorite stories here.

Loved your Neruda review!
--BJ

7) A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens. Quite simply, one of the most epic and excellent novels ever written. Dickens is pretty difficult at times: his little rhetorical puzzles are mind-boggling, and if he were writing today, his editor would be having an apoplectic fit, cutting half the thing in a frenzy. But the story itself justifies the writing style, a perfect blend of both the personal and historical narratives. Sydney Carton is one of the greatest anti-heroes ever created. Also has some of the best opening and closing lines ever. Stick with this one, and you won't ever regret it.

I loved that book, too. I remember reading it in high school and just being amazed. I guess it is almost time for a reread since high school was quite a long time ago. Thanks for the review!
--BJ

8) Watchmen by Alan Moore. An entirely unique and impeccably crafted work (albeit a few moments of cliche and melodrama), unlike anything I've ever read. It ends up being a totally ambiguous story, which is unsettling at first, but really just makes you think more deeply than you ever thought you would with a "comic book." I can see how this one changed everything for graphic novels, and for modern literature in general. Now, how the hell are they going to make even a coherent movie out of this? :)

Message edited by its author, Mar 4, 2009, 6:51pm.

Watchmen, also on my tbr! Are you going to see the movie? I would love to hear what you think of it.
--BJ

I saw Watchmen at midnight when it opened, at an IMAX theater, so it looked fantastic, regardless of anything else. I thought the movie was entertaining, and tastefully adapted from the graphic novel, though it didn't compare to the original work's brilliance. The movie was very schitzophrenic, as if it couldn't decide wether it wanted to be a film noir, a horror movie, or a dystopian-future drama. It seemed fragmented and sort of constrictingly earnest, like it didn't want to make any of the fanboys mad. So I guess it didn't stick with me in and of itself, but it was enjoyable nonetheless, if a bit long. Definitely read the book before you go see the movie!

9) Candide, by Voltaire. A very odd, quirky, rambling, and funny book, a little philosophical treatise disguised as a novel. I liked the ultimate sentiment, that all of our philosophizing and talking and bullshitting can't compare to simply hunkering down and doing our work, doing something real. I totally agree with that, even if the book took kind of an disjointed, insubstantial approach to get there. I'd like to read some critical text on it, to maybe catch some more of the meanings and references. And hey, it's one of those classic books that you can read in two days, so why not?

Message edited by its author, Mar 8, 2009, 1:48am.

>23 It's been waiting for me to read it for years... poor thing! Maybe I'll get to it this year? Thanks for the review!

>24 It doesn't ask for much, really, 140 pages counting the introduction, and a lot of it is absurdly funny. Just knock it out and put one more notch in yer belt. :)

Glad to hear that the movie of Watchmen came out in IMAX. I love to see movies with that gigantic screen. My daughter and her boyfriend are coming here for Spring Break, so maybe we can all go see the movie. I guess I better read the book, though. I know it is around here somewhere. :D Have a super day!
--BJ

10) For Whom The Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway. A truly epic novel, using a stunning degree of detail to describe three days in nearly 500 pages. It is relentlessly hard-hitting and undeniable; sometimes it's too much, and the lack of dynamics is tiring. Yet it brings us a sense of the interconnectedness of all humanity and the effects of war with unprecedented power, and creates truly "alive" characters for us, most notably the brave matron Pilar. It is perfectly constructed, honest, and full of compassion and empathy. A real gift to literature and to humanity.

Nice review. I loved that book as well. Have a super day!
--BJ

11) Where I'm Calling From by Raymond Carver. A really comprehensive (if sometimes uneven) collection from one of the greatest American short story writers of all time. The chronological order is interesting to observe; he really did get better as he wrote more. Besides the obvious perfect stories ("Cathedral" "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love," ect...), I also loved "Are These Actual Miles?" "Why Don't You Dance?" and "Menudo." Some of these definitely deserve to be read at least a dozen more times. He does relationships and "small moments" like no one else.

12) Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson. In another author's hands, this novel would have been drab and folksy to a fault. But Robinson is arguably one of our best living writers stylistically: her prose is flowing, poetic, and impeccably crafted; very "underline-able." John Ames is one of the most developed and real characters I have ever encountered: quiet, thoughtful, and full of love for his young son whom he is writing to. Though it's difficult to get into at first, anyone who takes the time to read it slowly will be surprised and rewarded tremendously. Easy to see why it got the Pulitzer.

Another great review. I am adding this to my wishlist!
--BJ

13) The Cassowary's Revenge, by Donald Tuzin. I read this for my Anthropology of Witchcraft and Religion class. Though Tuzin's account of the villager's transformation is fascinating, and though his language can be rich and lyrical sometimes, I couldn't help getting bogged down in the heavy analysis of ethnographic patterns and statistical information. The mythological study was the best part. Overall, not a bad book to be forced to read ( :) ), though I'm not really wired for science writing, anyway...

14) Harry, A History, by Melissa Anelli. This book was like nonfictional literary candy for me, as a hardcore Harry Potter fan. Melissa gives us an inside view into the fandom and the entire phenomenon, showing us how J. K. Rowling's books not only changed literature and publishing, but also the way people connect on the Internet and in real life. She makes me feel both glad that I was around for all of it (I started reading them when I was 11, the same age as Harry), and also sad that it's over and that I wasn't even more involved.
I simply don't give a shit what anyone else says: those books are amazing and extremely powerful. Melissa shares this unabashed enthusiasm, which makes her book such a pleasure to read. Informative, tightly-written, and brimming with excitement, I give it my full recommendation as required reading for any HP fan.

I was thinking about suggesting Gilead for my book group. Does it seem like the kind of book that would spark conversation?

Well, you didn't ask me, but it did in my book group! :-)

Yeah, Gilead has so many layers to unravel, as it's basically a kind of summation of this man's entire life and what he's learned. It asks so many questions about how we relate to each other as well as to whatever gods we believe in, and even what place un-belief has in our world. And it's conveyed in some of the most achingly beautiful prose written in the last 50 years. My mom read the sequel, Home, and said it was also good, so that's something to consider as well.

15) Our Story Begins, by Tobias Wolff. A wonderful summation of his career as one of america's short story masters. In some ways, I think he's better than Carver; more varied in tone and in the different kinds of characters he can inhabit (even though nothing in here reaches quite the same level as something like "Cathedral"). He's not afraid to use a lot of exposition, and to get philosophical about his caracters' dillemmas, even if it slows the story down. Among my personal favorites were "Next Door," "That Room" (both examples of powerful short-short stories), "The Chain," and "Deep Kiss." Definitely one to revisit, study, and revel in.

Have you read This Boy's Life? One of my favorite books!

No, I haven't read any of his nonfiction before, though I remember the film version of that one very well. I'll definitely check it out at some point!

I didn't see the movie because I heard it wasn't as good as the book, and not funny like the book, so don't let the movie keep you from reading this funny (as in real-life funny) memoir.

16) Looking for Alaska, by John Green. A very funny, tragic, and meaningful story; I can see why this one picked up the Printz Honor. I love that Green is unafraid to confront big issues about sex, love, and existence with profound honesty, even in a form geared toward young adults. The pacing of the story is a little unbalanced, and Pudge's idolization of Alaska can be grating at times, yet he always seems to redeem himself with his intelligent humor and insight, without sounding like some cartoon of a teenager. Alaska herself is an intersting permutation of the "manic pixie dreamgirl," an archetype that sems to show up a lot in Green's work. The most important moments in the novel are written beautifully, and you really feel as if you're being invited to be a part of this world for a while. Definitely recommended (even for older people), and I look forward to reading his other work!

Yeah, I had my problems with the movie as well. He's normally pretty stoic in tone, but he can be wryly funny at times. I'm more on a fiction jag now than non-fiction, but I'll make space for him.

17) East of Eden, by John Steinbeck. This one took a while, but it was unimaginably worth it. It is one of the most powerful and inspiring books I have ever read. It re-translates an important myth into contemporary language and images, something I wish to do in my own writing, and does so using a poetic, linguistic vocabulary that I would kill to be able to imitate. Among the amazing cast of characters, Sam Hamilton and Lee Chong stand out as some of the most indelible and loveable figures in literature. Cathy/Kate Trask is like the hate-child of Lady Macbeth and Madame Defarge; she often seems to surpass them both in evil. Steinbeck connects the narrative to so many other things: history, philosophy, not to mention religion, and he wraps it all in a great love and real understanding for the land of the Sailinas Valley and of America in general. All of this is to say that the book was deeply personal and moving to me, and immediately makes my top 10 list of my favorite books of all time (usurping the position that "Cannery Row" once occupied; really, when it comes down to it, the tragedies matter more than the comedies).

18) Henry VIII, by William Shakespeare. Undoubtedly a propaganda play at heart (written to give props to Elizabeth and King James), but it's got some great characters, particularly Queen Katharine, truly one of the most duped women in hsitory, and Cardinal Wolsey to a lesser extent. The ending is muddled by lots of confusing political infighting, but it resolves in the birth and christening of Elizabeth. It's interesting to see how Shakespeare personalizes history and gives it a plot arc that is, for the most part, compelling.

Shakespeare personalizes history

That is interesting! I had never thought of that as a reason to read Shakespeare.

It's a great reason to read Shakespeare, as long as you don't get bent out of shape when he rearranges history to make the plot better :-)

I totally agree with your review of East of Eden - what an amazing book! I am not American so I don't know if I can say this but to me this feels one of the most quintessentially American books I've ever read. The way Steinbeck captures a particular place, landscape and era is amazing. Oh, and I loved your description of Cathy :)

I totally agree with you about East of Eden being a great American book; it's universally recognized, no matter what country you're from. What better cultural ambassador could we have than Steinbeck?

19) Indelible Acts by A. L. Kennedy. I had never heard of A. L. Kennedy before, and this collection came out of nowhere and really dug into me. Her writing style is shamelessly poetic and dense, albeit sometimes too obtuse. She has a deep understanding of the contradictions in romance and relationships, and draws the pain, disappointment, and humor out of her characters in a way that makes us understand them most when they're silent, or even after when they've left the scene. It's almost too much smart writing at times, but it ends up sticking with you like the scent of a absent lover (a favorite detail of hers). Highlights for me included "A Bad Son," "Touch Positive," and "A Little Like Light."

This discussion of East of Eden being the quintessential American book is a funny coincidence. I recently read The Time it Snowed in Puerto Rico and the 11 year old girl in it desperately wants to be more American. She starts reading books to forget her own life for awhile and the one she gets really attached to is East of Eden because to her, it's just SO perfectly American. When she eventually gets to take a trip to Washington, D.C., she wonders if it'll be just like California the way it is the book because D.C. is in America too. Talk about a rude awakening ;)

50: ooooh I'm salivating that sounds like such a lovely book!

Hi Eliza! The Time it Snowed in Puerto Rico is pretty good, but it was not quite all I was hoping for. I reviewed it in my thread if you want to check it out...I didn't post the review on the book's LT page because I borrowed it from the public library. It wasn't from my own collection or from my TBR, just a random pick (what I can say, it had a pretty cover), so I don't usually add those.

Sorry bigj, don't mean to hijack your thread!

Message edited by its author, Sep 15, 2009, 2:33pm.

Hahaha, that's alright, spacepotatoes. Any discussion about what literature does to us is good discussion. :)

20) Equus by Peter Shaffer. I've always been fascinated with the premise of this play, and finally reading it was an even richer payoff. It's amazing what Shaffer makes happen with a handful of actors, a stark setting, and a simple news story of a disturbed young man he heard in passing conversation. Watching Alan Strang piecing together his unique religion throughout his life is totally captivating (even if it raises more questions about him than are ever answered). Dysart is wonderful and sad, and his many monologues almost never seem contrived or "device-like." We even feel compassion for Alan's parents by the end of the play, even after everything they did and did not do for their son. And, of course, the first re-enactment scene in Dysart's office is like nothing else I've ever read. I can only imagine how much more powerful it would all be acted in the flesh. Overall, a great modern play to learn from and to whet my theatrical appetite on.

21) Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen. Glad I finally got around to reading this. It really is entertaining, first and foremost, and gives us many distinct and vivid characters who rub up against each other and create sparks of both love and contempt. The classic pairing of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, whose hate for each other morphs wonerfully into mutual respect and admiration, is particularly satisfying to watch. Personally, I feel a great affection for Mr. Bennet, whose dry wit and desire to laugh at any situation made him very relatable to me. Even if it's the quintissential "chick lit" novel, the story is so inclusive and even a man like myself can enjoy it. It's essentially about the triumph of the individual over collectivisim, how one person's spirit allows her to defy public opinion and convention in pursuit of her own happiness. In that sense, it can read like an American novel in spirit and ideal; how even more remarkable it becomes for coming out of 18th century England! The story itself is of little consequence, but it is wrapped in such snarky irony that the writing itself becomes delightful to read. As a work of art, it yields great dividends of understanding about ourselves as individuals, lovers, and as players in "The Game" of relationships. It is worth anyone's attention.

22) Musicophilia, by Oliver Sacks. A really fascinating study of how music affects us in daily life, as well as of people with various extraordinary musical abilities and disabilities. I was particularly fascinated with the chapter on William's syndrome, as well as the one about people who attain sudden, savant-like musical abilities after traumatic events ("sudden musicophilia"). Sacks is a beautiful writer and compassionalte observer, and his own experiences as a musician add great depth and insight to his research. Overall, an extremely engrossing book, sometimes too pedantic and sluggish, but always captivating.

23) The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak. A tremendous novel, and a thick, juicy, moving, thumping-good yarn of a story. It seems sort of ludicrous to classify it as a yong-adult novel, as the only thing young adult thing about it is the main character, Liesel Meminger, a German girl who defies Hitler's regime during World War II in both direct and indirect ways, including helping to hide a Jew in her family's basement, stealing books, and arming herself with the power of words. "The Book Thief" is, in fact, written by her, narrated and interpreted to us by none other than Death himself, who is a fascinating and compassionate character in and of himself. The writing reminds me of a less-absurdist Jonathan Safran Foer; there's so many strange, wonderful descriptions that it's almost mind-dulling at times. In the end, though, Zusak does a remarkable job of blending history and fiction, tenderness and utter brutality, into a harrowing and surprising piece of art that I hope will continue to be read and talked about by both young people and those not so young. It may just change the way I read and appreciate books for the rest of my life.

It may just change the way I read and appreciate books for the rest of my life.

Wow! That's really saying something! I loved that the story was told by "death" itself. Talk about an omniscient narrator!

24) The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, by Michael Chabon. An odd, sometimes awkward, but definitely interesting first novel from Chabon. While I don't think he's the best storyteller out there, his actual writing, his craftsmanship, is unbelievable, and in full bloom even this early. The sentences made me laugh, sigh, and pulled me right into that youthful world of heightened sensory experiences and emotions, where the most trivial actions seem like grand, mountain-moving feats. Art's internal conflicts regarding his sexuality were painfully vivid, yet sometimes seemed melodramatic and downright annoying. There seemed to be some character potholes, and sometimes a downright disregard of plot arc or meaning in the events of the story. But no matter what small squabbles I may have had, again and again Chabon's language and amusedly compassionate regard of his characters kept me charmed and immersed in his world. He is truly one of the great writers of our age.

25) The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz. This book broke my heart. A suprisingly tragic and epic tale about nerds, curses, Dominican history, violence, and hopeless love. Diaz is the perfect writer for our age; multilingual, equally well-versed in history and pop culture, in both the mainstream and the fringe areas of society. His writing is just a thrill, so unique and alive and savvy and rule-breaking and beautiful that it makes the fingers on my writing hand ache. Although I was never as much of a classic nerd as Oscar, I connected to his character so deeply that I hurt and triumphed right along with him. The book shows that, no matter who we are, we are all connected to our history, and are walking culminations of every who came before us. But we are also entrusted with the task of living our lives in a way worthy of the next generation, living like Oscar: grandly and full-heartedly, loving without pretense or shame. The book has so many layers and textures that I could never explain them all, which is why I can't recommend enough that you read it for yourself.

Wow! You've made me appreciate and like this book even more! You should officially review this.

Thanks, bonnie! I've always wanted to do reviews for some paper or website; maybe I should just post it on my blog or something. But yeah, I think a lot can be said about that book and how culturally relevant it is.

26) The Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan. I really just wanted to read this for the sake of studying one of the first extensive uses of metaphor and mythical adaptation in English literature. Also, Steinbeck idolized this book, and I wanted to make him proud. It had its interesting moments, but seems too transparent in out more sophisticated symbolic context. Not being a Christian, it's also a bit uninspiring. But it's still interesting to imagine how this changed people's lives at one point, and got them thinking in ways (wether about salvation or their resistance to it is not the point) that they never had before. It was a nice brain-exercise to plow through it, but not exactly a game changer for me.

Remember Huckleberry Finnʻs summary of
Pilgrimʻs Progress?

--"Itʻs about a man who left his wife and family. It didnʻt say why."

(Unfair, because of course it DOES "say why".)

Message edited by its author, Nov 28, 2009, 5:36pm.

it seems that Steinbeck was not the book's only admirer:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilgrim%27s...

27) The Making of A Poem, edited by Mark Strand and Eavan Boland. A great anthology of poems using a wide variety of forms that I've been working on for a while. I still find most of my favorite poems coming from the "Open Forms" section, which says a lot about how I write and how hopelessly modern I am. Though I did write a villanelle after reading the chapter on that form, which went on to win me my first writing contest, so I guess there's reasons not to totally give up on form. Interesting side-notes as well, balancing history and commentary.

28) Live For A Living, by Buddy Wakefield. An unconventional, raw, and powerful collection from one of my favorite modern poets. For being primarily a performance poet (memorizes his work, reads theatrically), his poems work surprisingly well on the page. He uses rather obscure language a lot of the time, a lot of combined metaphors and even words, which yield to close reading. "Gospelstitch" and "Human The Death Dance" (as well as it's follow up, "The Art of Die Smilingly") are probably my favorites of his. The book is also laced with journal entries, which really balance out the tone by letting you into his non-poetic mind and showing him to be a genuine, funny, and engaging person. Both the journal entires and the poems have this common theme of the search for healing, of trying to start again, and of helping others back from the brink of their own despair, things that take a lot of skill to put across in an artful, non-melodramatic way. Buddy does it like beathing, and for that I can only commend and love him as a poet and a person, even though I've never met him. Please, punch his name into YouTube and watch the above-mentioned poems performed by him; he takes them to a whole different level.