Skip to main content

Listless

I am a sucker for lists. Ten best this, ten worst that, just give me an article with a list in it and I'm almost guaranteed to read it.

I'm particularly fond of lists of books. I check the various New York Times bestseller lists - fiction, nonfiction, paperback, trade paperback, etc. - at least once a week. Then there are those lists of "1001 books you MUST read before you die" and similar lists.

Today, while tooling around the Internet, I came upon one of those lists. It is the Modern Library's 100 best novels. It is not just one list but two. The first list is the Modern Library board's list of the best 100 and the second list is a reader's list, apparently compiled from a survey. I went through both lists to see how many I had read. I found that on the board's list I had read 27 of their favorites, while on the reader's list, I had read 22.

It's interesting to compare the two lists. They have some titles in common but overall they are quite different. For example, the first three titles on the board's list are Ulysses by James Joyce, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. I had read the first two of those, not the third. The first three titles on the reader's list were Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, and Battlefield Earth by L. Ron Hubbard. I've not read a single one of those and I don't expect I ever will, but the fourth book on the reader's favorites list is Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, and that one I have read multiple times.

Ulysses, The Great Gatsby and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man do actually make the reader's list as well. They are number 11, number 13, and number 57 respectively. But Atlas Shrugged, The Fountainhead, and Battlefield Earth do not appear at all on the board's list of favorites, probably with good reason. Neither, however, does Lord of the Rings, which just seems a gross oversight to me - but then, that's just me.

The bias of these lists is obvious. Books written in English only comprise both lists. There are whole libraries full of wonderful books that were not written in English. I've read at least four this year - Eva Luna by Isabel Allende and the three Stieg Larsson books. Surely some of them should make the "100 best" list.

I guess this just points to the futility of such lists. Sure, they are interesting to look at, but in the end, how can you really know what are the 100 best unless you have read and evaluated every single one in the world? Which, of course, is an impossible task, so I guess I will remain...listless.

Comments

  1. I guess if you're a real fan of lists, you're aware of the 1001 Books spreadsheet and have a copy of the new v4 edition, right?

    If not, head over to the spreadsheet page on Arukiyomi.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hey, thanks, Arukiyomi! I'll check it out.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...