50 Life-Changing Books (or are they?) Part One

[littlerdog.livejournal.com]

Young people and adults nominated the books that have rocked their worlds, to help us create the ultimate list of 50 BOOKS that will change YOUR life and keep you reading.

So, how many of these have I read, and what effect did they have on my life, if any? Is it even possible to know?

(I might note here that books are more likely to stop me reading than keep me reading; reading is my default.)

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.

I studied this for 'O' Level English Literature way back in the day. I have a huge affection for this much-misunderstood and much-maligned book. It. Is. Not. A. Romance. Mmmkay?

I was living in Yorkshire at the time I studied this book, and in fact both my parents are from Yorkshire, so I was already immersed in the culture, so to speak. And it is a very honest representation of Yorkshire people and Yorkshire life. Take that how you will. I remember we even tramped through the rain one day to look at a ruined farmhouse that might or might not have been the inspiration for Wuthering Heights itself. I've also been round the museum at Haworth, in the old parsonage where the Brontes lived. There's at least one dress on display that's just tiny. It's impossible to believe it was worn by an adult woman.

Changed my life? Not sure. If I'd had any doubts that women could write books, it might have dispelled them, but as far as I can recall I never had such doubts. Not consciously, anyway. And the unconscious ones aren't got rid of that easily.

WarHorse by Michael Morpurgo.

I chanced upon a copy of this book at the tail-end of all the fuss about it, and decided to give it a read. Didn't think much of it, tbh. Also, how come this horse understands both English and German? That's a pretty big achievement for a horse. Definitely did not change my life. I'm left with the usual feeling that public acclaim of a book gives a more than 90% likelihood that I won't like it. I'd've liked to have seen the play with the puppet horses, though.

Seriously, the horse understands English and German? And nobody but me is remotely bothered by that?

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee.

So much has been said about this book that it seems pointless to heap on it more praise. It is so beautifully written, so evocative. I still remember the anger I felt on Scout's behalf that she'd have to leave her childhood behind to enter the vapid world of the ladies who bathe several times a day, bake and gossip. Poor kid.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon.

Another well-received book that left me feeling meh. I was irritated by having explained to me in such great detail why you should swap one box for the other. Given I already knew that and had seen it explained much more concisely already, there was a strong sense of 'Why are you telling me this?' Also, the lack of room for growth of the character left me feeling depressed. Yes, that fault's definitely in me. It's also why I dislike the tv programme Monk. Yep, mea culpa. I'm sure it's a worthy book but it didn't change my life. Sorry.

The Rats by James Herbert.

Life-changing? Mmmm. No. Mildly entertaining? Definitely. I actually thought Domain was the better read. But silly silly books, all of them.

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

I remember reading someone criticising this book on the basis that Jane won't have Rochester until he's beaten down and crippled, ie less of a man. Methinks that person didn't read the book too closely.

It's probably difficult not to be affected by this book. The marvellous scene where Jane first meets the acerbic Rochester. Her quiet yet spirited attitude to life. Jane is probably one of the best female characters in literature. And yes, this one is a Romance.

Women can be people too. It's useful to be reminded of that occasionally.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Again, a book about which much has been said. Discovering Austen is one of the joys of a reader's life. My father and I are at eternal loggerheads about which is Austen's best book. It's not this one. I say it's Persuasion; he holds out for Emma. But Elizabeth from P&P will always have a place in my heart. Even Andrew Davies couldn't destroy that, although he tried hard enough. Clue for Mr Davies: the book is not about teh menz.

The Time-Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger.

Apparently this book was turned down by SF publishers and had to be published as women's fiction or chicklit or something. Good. It's a really bad book; I don't see why SF should take the blame for it.

I think my favourite part was about halfway through where there's a section about punk and how dreadfully important it is to all the characters, a fundamental part of their lives, deeply, vitally threaded throughout their entire existence. Punk has never been alluded to before. It is never alluded to again. And really, how romantic is a man who grooms a child into eventually becoming his wife? I found Henry creepy to the max. Plus we keep being told what a good man he is, yet I can't remember a single act of goodness on his part from the entire book. WF/CL can have it.

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger.

It's curious how divisive this book is. Time and again I've seen people dismiss Holden as a whiner. Yet I found the book to be a rich and disturbing portrait of a young person sliding into mental illness. Very sad. If you can't whine when your beloved brother has committed suicide, when can you? Never, according to some people.

Life-changing? Possibly not, but certainly affecting. A book that stays with you, that haunts, that you're driven to defend time and again.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

I read this relatively recently--was it last year?--because I got tired of not having read it. It's not a bad book but it was one with which I found it hard to identify. Gatsby is admired for reasons that don't seem admirable to me. The best part of the book is probably its last line. It didn't change my life, except insofar as I no longer think, must read that book some day.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.

Again, a much-hyped book that didn't live up to the hype for me. It's okay, I guess. Didn't change my life. I still think with some irritation that the daughter of a mother with clinical depression would be different, but maybe that's imposing my own experience unfairly. If it got people thinking that female characters don't have to be wimps who break a heel, turn their ankles, and have to be saved by men, that's a good thing. Maybe if I'd read it earlier in my life I'd have liked it more.

Northern Lights by Philip Pullman.

And again, a book that's massively over-rated. Maybe I'm seeing a trend here; if you have a female character with agency it puts your book at an advantage because the readership is starving for them. I feel there's two major flaws with this book. Firstly, the second chapter, which is one huge info-dump that stalls the whole story and has you thinking GET ON WITH IT GET ON WITH IT and secondly the irritating way the plan at the end is repeated and repeated then goes down exactly as planned. The last thing you want to do in your exciting denouement is bore the reader to death with repetition. And a twist or two is also nice.

Continued on next rock, because this is entering tl;dr territory.