Books · Thoughts

A Personal Canon

Taking a cue from this post and several others that have been popping up on Twitter today . . .

The Tempest, William Shakespeare
Gilead, Marilynne Robinson
Ulysses, James Joyce
Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?, Jeannette Winterson
Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin
Station Eleven, Emily St. John Mandel
Zone, Mathias Énard
The Iliad, Homer
Inferno, Dante
Wittgenstein’s Mistress, Daniel Markson
Gravity’s Rainbow, Thomas Pynchon
“The Death of Ivan Ilyich,” Leo Tolstoy
Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace
The Collected Stories of Flannery O’Connor, Flannery O’Connor
A Naked Singularity, Sergio De La Pava
Moby-Dick, Herman Melville
A Little Life, Hanya Yanagihara
Leaves of Grass (1855 Edition), Walt Whitman
The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky
Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut
Absalom, Absalom!, William Faulkner
Our Town, Thornton Wilder
Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte
Just Kids
, Patti Smith
A New Selected Poems, Galway Kinnell
The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison
Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, 
Haruki Murakami
Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
JR, William Gaddis
Omensetter’s Luck, William H. Gass
The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis, Lydia Davis
I could go on and on about why each one of these is on here, but that seems like the sort of thing that would be better face-to-face, cup of coffee (or something else) in hand.

Doing lists like these always makes me think I need to read more, broaden the range – a consistent and compelling project that never seems to go away.



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