A Brief Look At My Reading List: In Response to Paul Sand

I was recently tagged by blogging friend Paul Sand (aka Pun Salad) and I could not have been more flattered by his kind gesture. Unfortunately I have been quite busy; too busy, really, for any general blogging, and surely too busy for any blogging that requires me to think. But I finally have a moment to apply myself to Paul’s interesting quiz (so to speak). Of course, I have modified the questions a little bit. I can’t help myself, you know. So here it goes:

1. Could you name one book that changed your life?

Is it bad form of me to split this question? I hope not. You see, I have too many books that have changed my life. I have no idea which one to pick. No doubt the Bible changed my life; even one verse changed my life. But that is not what is being asked here, I know.

The book that changed my life as a young reader would have to be Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer. I wanted to be Tom, all mischief and adventure, with a good heart and an incurable romantic streak. I wanted to get lost in a cave with my own Becky Thatcher; I wanted to love and protect her, and yet I did not want to have to worry about clean fingernails or wearing fancy shoes. I pretty much succeeded in following Tom, bounding with him through thickets and getting into a thicket of trouble along the way.

The book that changed me in my late teens would have to be The Hobbit and its glorious sequel, The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien's work is a gift of heaven (and there’s that adventure theme again).

The novel that most consumed me as a young man was Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov. One vignette in that novel (or most Russian novels), is more interesting than three whole modern novels.

But the book that has had the single biggest impact on me overall is G. K. Chesterton’s Orthodoxy. This book, along with his The Man Who Was Thursday and The Dumb Ox, helped me find my faith at a time when I had lost my way. And when I mean faith, I do not merely mean Christian faith. I mean my faith in human reason. I was despairing in a sort of dreary existentialism. I doubted doubt; I doubted logic. I stood on the threshold of unreason, and before I stepped on the Welcome mat, Chesterton, laughing, struck me on the side of the head with his cane. (Another book that helped me find my bearings was God In Search Of Man, by Abraham Joshua Heschel, the great Jewish religious philosopher. And then there's Thomas Howard's great but mistitled volume, Evangelical Is Not Enough.)

2. What book have you read more than once?

Well, I have read many books more than once. Brideshead Revisted is one book I wish I read more than once; as is The Count of Monte Cristo (the adventure, the romance, the sweet beauty of forgiveness). I have read Orthodoxy seemingly hundreds of times. But perhaps my favorite book, the only book of which I have a first edition, is Annie Dillard’s The Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. In a few words, the book is painfully beautiful. Her prose cannot be any better. If I could write like anyone, it would be Annie. I read her Pulitzer Prize-winning book every couple of years, just to be reminded ...

3. What one book would you want on a desert island?

This is a tough one, since the answer is really contingent on my length of stay. If I was to live out my days there, I might want something big, like the Encyclopedia Brittanica or the Oxford English Dictionary. Perhaps I could be happy with a King James Version of the Bible (I could speak the King’s English, since I would be my own lord); the Bible is full of enough diverse material (I think) that I could probably be content for a long time. The Count of Monte Cristo (not abridged) would be a good companion, as would be the Tolkien series. And Romano Guardini’s classic mindblower, The Lord, would not be a bad choice. And if it was a political island on which I was stranded, I might want The Closing of the American Mind, by Allan Bloom. (Shakespeare's complete works would not be a burden either.)

4. What book made you cry?

I know that I have cried several times while reading books, but for the life of me I cannot recall which books had this effect on me. I do recall crying while reading the most romantic book I ever read, A Severe Mercy, by Sheldon Vanauken. Yes, I sobbed after that one. Pure beauty. And I know tears flowed somewhere in a Dicken’s tale, perhaps in Oliver Twist. Oh, yes! Now I know: I bawled at parts of The Great Divorce, by C. S. Lewis.

5. What book made you laugh?

That’s easy: Lost in Place: Growing Up Absurd In Suburbia by Mark Salzman. It might be a generational thing, but this memoir, perfectly written, had me holding my sides. Those of you who remember the whole Kung Fu-thing will know what I mean. Notes From A Small Island, by Bill Bryson, is also great stuff.

6. What book do you wish had been written?

The book inside my head.

7. What book do you wish had not been written?

Whatever might come out of Luke Buckham’s head. OK. Cheap shot, and totally a joke. What book should not have been written? I don’t think there is one. Sorry. But it’s true. There are just a great number of books that should have never been read.

8. What book are you currently reading?

I never read one book at a time. I just finished a volume of George Bernard Shaw’s plays; I have Juan Williams’ newest book, Enough, on my nightstand, along with Alan Jacobs', The Narnian.

9. What book have you been meaning to read?

The hundreds of books my wife wants me to read. And then there's James Joyce's Ulysses.

Alas, there are so many important and wonderful books; it seems a sacrilege even to begin to make a list that might prioritize them.

Peace.

Gnade