Charles Dickens has a permanent place in my head and heart. His stories make me laugh like none other, move and surprise me, and are so engrossing that they feel like time travel is possible. I have all of his novels and short stories (in several editions even), but have purposely set a couple aside, so that I still have some unknown to me to read over the next years.
Grey Seas Under (Farley Mowat, 1958). This book sat on my shelf for 20 years before I took it down to read. Sometimes you just know that if given time you will get around to a book, so why rush the experience? This is the story of an Atlantic salvage tug and the men who operated her off the coast of Canada from 1930 to 1948. It’s the absolutely riveting history of a ship masquerading as an edge-of-the-seat thriller. These sailors and their vessel had more of what it takes than any group of men you are ever likely to meet: daredevil rescues amid towering seas in icy waters day after day (and even more often, night after night), year after year — everyday heroics by uncommon people that make you proud to be of the same species.
I will have to read the Aviator! I really enjoyed Laurus.
One book that I come back to frequently in nonfiction is Steven Mintz's book "Huck's Raft." I often recommend it to friends who are looking for accessible nonfiction about history; it's basically a really readable and fascinating history of American childhood that challenges our widely-held concepts about what it has been like to be a kid in America over time.
Mintz also has a book on the history of adulthood "The Prime of Life" in America that is equally fascinating. One absolutely fascinating thing he explains is that the age that we consider to be the prime of life has shifted in American cultural opinion over the centuries, helping to explain our current obsession with youth through contrast to the way youth and middle age and agedness have been viewed over time.
Dostoevsky and Tom Wolfe have been mainstays for several years, and I will bore anyone to tears talking about how much I love the former's social vision and the latter's prose style; but in the past two years or so I 've really developed a deep love for John McPhee's writing. Haven't gotten to the "can't stop talking about" stage with him yet but I'm very close . . .
Ever since I first read Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy’s bleak, twisted visions have stayed with me. I reference him a lot. Too much, according to my wife.
Three women writers who have captivated me with their stories are Rebecca West, Rumer Godden, and Elizabeth von Arnim. There again, just reading several novels of each makes me extremely curious about the authors. I discovered the interesting fact that two of them were lovers/wife of H.G. Wells.
Rebecca West's Aubrey Trilogy is the kind of story that makes you sad when you get to the end, because you love the characters and want to stay with them. Some people say that West put her best self into her fictional characters, and was not herself an easy person to like. I would love to read her Black Lamb and Grey Falcon, just to hear her voice, but it is huge, and I am running out of time.
Kingsolver's THE POISONWOOD BIBLE (should be required reading for all people preparing to be overseas missionaries); A GENTLEMAN IN MOSCOW by Towles; CUTTING FOR STONE by Verghese. OH! and KRISTIN LAVRANSDATTER, by Undset (a Norwegian writer -- won the Nobel?) -- incredible book about a woman during the time of medieval knights. She struggles to follow what (she perceives) God wants or follow her heart. I think about it often.
I've loved Pat Conroy over the years. "Prince of Tides" is nothing short of magnificent, and I never meet anyone traveling to Charleston that I don't recommend "South of Broad" to, although the critics were mixed on that one. For reasons I can't fathom :)
Different seasons of life have brought different books and authors that I couldn't stop talking about. In the past few years, I have been sampling the works of Canadian novelist Michael D. O'Brien. His finest work is 'The Island of the World', the most beautiful novel I have ever read.
I more often can't start talking about books than can't stop - due to a lack of literary companions which is why I'm here. I just loved Laurus by Vodalazkin. I immensely identified with the long sufferig but finally triumphant hero and found the resolution so perfect.
I similarly identified with the inner adventures of Anodos, the hero of George Macdonald's Phantastes. CS Lewis said that Macdonald baptized his imagination. I'd say he confirmed mine. The last line has Anodos, in a liminal state, imagining one of the characters he met on his journey saying to him, "A great good is coming to you, Anodos." I have it on a little chalk board in my room
Streams of Living Water by Richard Foster has shaped and expanded my thinking of what spiritual formation looks like, and I recommend it often. In a different vein, Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez changed my default assumptions about whether women have been adequately accounted for in design, and that new perspective is now permanently stuck in my mind.
I've read both Laurus and The Aviator more than once, and they are both among my favorite books. I'm Eastern Orthodox, and appreciate the author's portrayal of the Christian worldview, that of his characters or of the historical era of the novels.
I don't talk a lot about the books that affect me most deeply, because I hardly know how to articulate those things that are full of mystery. But I much appreciate hearing from anyone else who appreciates those same books, because I know we share a bond, however inscrutable it might be.
I go by publishers more than authors now. If an author has a volume published by the Library of America, Everyman's Library, Penguin Classics or the Modern Library I'm very inclined to take them seriously.
Charles Dickens has a permanent place in my head and heart. His stories make me laugh like none other, move and surprise me, and are so engrossing that they feel like time travel is possible. I have all of his novels and short stories (in several editions even), but have purposely set a couple aside, so that I still have some unknown to me to read over the next years.
Never recovered from Joyce’s ‘The Dead’. It may yet finally see me off.
Grey Seas Under (Farley Mowat, 1958). This book sat on my shelf for 20 years before I took it down to read. Sometimes you just know that if given time you will get around to a book, so why rush the experience? This is the story of an Atlantic salvage tug and the men who operated her off the coast of Canada from 1930 to 1948. It’s the absolutely riveting history of a ship masquerading as an edge-of-the-seat thriller. These sailors and their vessel had more of what it takes than any group of men you are ever likely to meet: daredevil rescues amid towering seas in icy waters day after day (and even more often, night after night), year after year — everyday heroics by uncommon people that make you proud to be of the same species.
I will have to read the Aviator! I really enjoyed Laurus.
One book that I come back to frequently in nonfiction is Steven Mintz's book "Huck's Raft." I often recommend it to friends who are looking for accessible nonfiction about history; it's basically a really readable and fascinating history of American childhood that challenges our widely-held concepts about what it has been like to be a kid in America over time.
Mintz also has a book on the history of adulthood "The Prime of Life" in America that is equally fascinating. One absolutely fascinating thing he explains is that the age that we consider to be the prime of life has shifted in American cultural opinion over the centuries, helping to explain our current obsession with youth through contrast to the way youth and middle age and agedness have been viewed over time.
Dostoevsky and Tom Wolfe have been mainstays for several years, and I will bore anyone to tears talking about how much I love the former's social vision and the latter's prose style; but in the past two years or so I 've really developed a deep love for John McPhee's writing. Haven't gotten to the "can't stop talking about" stage with him yet but I'm very close . . .
Ever since I first read Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy’s bleak, twisted visions have stayed with me. I reference him a lot. Too much, according to my wife.
Three women writers who have captivated me with their stories are Rebecca West, Rumer Godden, and Elizabeth von Arnim. There again, just reading several novels of each makes me extremely curious about the authors. I discovered the interesting fact that two of them were lovers/wife of H.G. Wells.
Rebecca West's Aubrey Trilogy is the kind of story that makes you sad when you get to the end, because you love the characters and want to stay with them. Some people say that West put her best self into her fictional characters, and was not herself an easy person to like. I would love to read her Black Lamb and Grey Falcon, just to hear her voice, but it is huge, and I am running out of time.
Kingsolver's THE POISONWOOD BIBLE (should be required reading for all people preparing to be overseas missionaries); A GENTLEMAN IN MOSCOW by Towles; CUTTING FOR STONE by Verghese. OH! and KRISTIN LAVRANSDATTER, by Undset (a Norwegian writer -- won the Nobel?) -- incredible book about a woman during the time of medieval knights. She struggles to follow what (she perceives) God wants or follow her heart. I think about it often.
I've loved Pat Conroy over the years. "Prince of Tides" is nothing short of magnificent, and I never meet anyone traveling to Charleston that I don't recommend "South of Broad" to, although the critics were mixed on that one. For reasons I can't fathom :)
Different seasons of life have brought different books and authors that I couldn't stop talking about. In the past few years, I have been sampling the works of Canadian novelist Michael D. O'Brien. His finest work is 'The Island of the World', the most beautiful novel I have ever read.
I more often can't start talking about books than can't stop - due to a lack of literary companions which is why I'm here. I just loved Laurus by Vodalazkin. I immensely identified with the long sufferig but finally triumphant hero and found the resolution so perfect.
I similarly identified with the inner adventures of Anodos, the hero of George Macdonald's Phantastes. CS Lewis said that Macdonald baptized his imagination. I'd say he confirmed mine. The last line has Anodos, in a liminal state, imagining one of the characters he met on his journey saying to him, "A great good is coming to you, Anodos." I have it on a little chalk board in my room
Streams of Living Water by Richard Foster has shaped and expanded my thinking of what spiritual formation looks like, and I recommend it often. In a different vein, Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez changed my default assumptions about whether women have been adequately accounted for in design, and that new perspective is now permanently stuck in my mind.
Lately, Rachel Cusk.
She’s brilliant.
Recently, also Joan Didion — and Benjamin Disraeli.
Earlier: Hemingway, Joseph Conrad, VS Naipaul, Joseph Roth.
Even earlier: Evelyn Waugh, George Orwell, Bruce Chatwin.
Way, way back: Robert A. Heinlein, Tolkien, Tolstoy.
TS Eliot, Jane Austen, Winston S Churchill,Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Homer, Qian Zhongshu, CS Lewis, Sylvia Plath
Vodolazkin is fascinating to me, too. Did you see him being interviewed by Jonathan Pageau? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fjupdHkSLcw&t=515s
I've read both Laurus and The Aviator more than once, and they are both among my favorite books. I'm Eastern Orthodox, and appreciate the author's portrayal of the Christian worldview, that of his characters or of the historical era of the novels.
I don't talk a lot about the books that affect me most deeply, because I hardly know how to articulate those things that are full of mystery. But I much appreciate hearing from anyone else who appreciates those same books, because I know we share a bond, however inscrutable it might be.
I go by publishers more than authors now. If an author has a volume published by the Library of America, Everyman's Library, Penguin Classics or the Modern Library I'm very inclined to take them seriously.