At the moment of typing this, I realize that I’m spending my last couple of hours as a twenty-something hacking at my book shelves and sorting through my memory for my greatest books. I haven’t read a lot yet, but I already have my small personal canon.
There are the random books of my childhood, the limited choices in high school, the varied selections in college, and the hordes of them all in the last decade. And before I realize it, I’m already thirty. Actually, the realization has not yet hit me hard (should it?). I look at my shelves and wonder at the space that I could have emptied had I not been a reader. But no, I’m happy to be a reader.
I selected my list of greatest books based on my Goodreads ratings and on how important they are to me at multiple points in my life. If you are a keen reader of my blog, I think you will have a pretty good idea on what most of these books are. But there are surprise picks, which I put in my this list because they are an integral part of my reading development.
I wish I could rank them, but this is so hard. This is because my literary taste is continuously evolving and expanding, and everyday is different. I may like Novel A now more than Novel B, but next week could be a different story. So I decided to list the books alphabetically.
Without further ado, here are my thirty greatest books:
- Atonement by Ian McEwan – Recently reread, I must say that it’s still as stupendous as the first time.
- Children Around the World by Various Authors – I found this at the book shelf of my aunt. When I grew up, I never found it again.
- Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell – When you thought that there’s nothing new that emerging writers could do, my favorite living author comes out with this extraordinary feat.
- Death at Intervals by José Saramago – My paternal love for my favorite Nobel laureate started with this novel: Death’s love affair with an ordinary cellist.
- Fatelessness by Imre Kertész – Read this and you’ll thank your provider for the cheap instant food on your plate.
- Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot – Possibly the best poetry collection on life, time, and everything in between.
- Gilead by Marilynne Robinson – The follow-up novel after twenty years of waiting is graceful with its lilting spirituality.
- The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers – I find the title too endearing to ignore. After reading the book, I realize the truth in the title’s spaces.
- The Hours by Michael Cunningham – Reading this as a bumbling college student amazed me at the writer’s mastery of the novel’s form.
- Hunger by Knut Hamsun – Still my greatest book, so far.
- Independent People by Halldór Laxness – Still my second greatest book, so far.
- Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri – At some point, it made me want to buy every copy that I see in book stores.
- Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë – Because Jane Eyre is badass. I wish I have read this sooner.
- The Known World by Edward P. Jones – an immensely under-read and important contemporary novel.
- Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov – Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.
- Malice by Danielle Steel – I can still remember when me and my friends gushed at the sex scenes while restraining ourselves in a corner of the school library.
- Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem – Possibly the funniest book in this list.
- The Piano Teacher by Elfriede Jelinek – It’s not the literariness of it but the intensity of reading it.
- Play It As It Lays by Joan Didion – Short, terse, and devastating. Read only when emotionally stable.
- The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro – The first book that you discuss with a group of bookish friends is certainly unforgettable. And that’s the least of the reasons.
- Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates – This came at a low point in my life. Thus, it felt like a book that was written for me.
- The Road by Cormac McCarthy – The man and the boy’s journey to the sea in a post-apocalyptic world will grip you, not without shedding a tear.
- The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes – A book that I feel I will always reread. I haven’t scheduled a reread yet for this year.
- The Stories of John Cheever by John Cheever – New York stories from the masterful writer. The pieces are varied. There’s something for every reader out there.
- This Is Water by David Foster Wallace – Something that I read when the jagged teeth of realities are snapping at me.
- To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee – The first novel that you read is always in the heart.
- Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair by Pablo Neruda – Possibly the most romantic poetry collection.
- Twisted by Jessica Zafra – Years ago, I was only following her Twisted series. Now, I’m writing a novel that she would possibly publish.
- The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides – Beautifully haunting, those Lisbon girls.
- Where I’m Calling From by Raymond Carver – What more could you ask for when pieces from the writer’s three major collections are collected here?
Some of these are not in the photo above either because they are borrowed or they are elsewhere. Now, I am reminded that for the past years, I celebrated my birthday with a bookish giveaway. However, I have to break that tradition now because first, I somehow forgot it (blame it on the lack of activities on this blog) and second, I’m saving money for something more important and more selfless. What could be more important and more selfless than giving away a book?
If you answer this question correctly before April 25, 11:59 PM, you win a prize. Yes, the tradition goes on, although you will have to wait for your prize (a book not more than Php1000) some time in June to be delivered to you. For now, #HappyBirthdayAngus. Thank you. :)