I thought I’d do
something different for a change (mainly because, much as I’ve been enjoying
reading all these twenty-first century novels, I do miss talking about
Dickens). So today you can have a rundown of my top twenty-three favourite
books. I did try to get it down to twenty, but this proved difficult. Today I’ll
do number twenty-three to eleven, and next week I’ll give my top ten. I promise
that out of twenty-three books, only twelve of them were published in the nineteenth
century, and only four of them are Dickens novels. And yes, that did seem like
less before I wrote it down.
But anyway, let’s
begin:
23.
Vile Bodies, by Evelyn Waugh (1930)
As I dedicated a
whole module of my undergrad to Evelyn Waugh, I feel he ought to make it into
my favourites somewhere. I’m divided on him as a writer on the whole; the
language of Brideshead Revisited is a
bit rich for my taste, and I couldn’t get into Scoop really – but I absolutely love Vile Bodies. I like the sparseness of the language and the sheer
oddity of the plot and characters. It follows a sort of love story between Adam
and Nina, a couple on the outskirts of the London high society scene, flitting
in and out of the strange parties of the Bright Young Things. I love the
obsessive desperation with which these characters live out their lives. And,
you know, the 1920s are cool.
22.
The Casual Vacancy, by J. K. Rowling
(2012)
I almost forgot this
one, but it definitely belongs here somewhere. With Harry Potter being so significant to my
childhood/teenagerdom/university life, it’s nice to have J. K. Rowling here
somewhere. Besides, The Casual Vacancy is
a truly great book. It was so thoroughly lovely to read it and realise that
Rowling is not only great at creating worlds, but is just a brilliant writer. The Casual Vacancy is a brilliant social
criticism, in some ways the sort of book Dickens or Trollope (or maybe Hardy…)
might have written if they were alive today. Of all the books I’ve read in the
last couple of years, it’s probably made me re-evaluate the world the most.
21.
What a Carve Up!, by Jonathan Coe
(1994)
Now this is a very
strange book, and one I stand in great awe of. The form of it is incredible. I
can’t precisely explain it apart from by saying that it combines a first person
narrative of Michael Owen, the social hermit and biographer of the Winshaw
family, the third person narratives of each member of said Winshaw family, and
then, in the second half of the novel, a wonderful horror film pastiche. It’s a
book to go to with an open mind, firstly because it’s strange and fragmented
(in the best ways) and secondly because it’s an incredibly angry book. For that
reason I think I probably marvel at it more than I love it, if that makes sense
– and yet it still had to make it on to my favourites list somehow, simply
because it is so clever and original. It’s an amazing social critique as well
as a sort of cluedo game in novel form, a bizarre and brilliant mystery and
keeps you gripped to every page.
20.
Mansfield Park, by Jane Austen (1814)
Because Jane Austen
is pretty awesome. Mansfield Park always
seemed a bit underrated to me, and in fact the first time I read it I didn’t
like it at all and thought it was boring (yes I am now ashamed; sorry Jane
Austen). However, after studying it at uni it became one of my favourites. I
think what I like about it is that how rich in historical and cultural context
it is. It’s historically fascinating, if a bit less timeless than Pride and Prejudice or Sense and Sensibility. And while Fanny
Price isn’t quite as feisty as Emma Woodhouse, she is interesting, if in a
quiet way, and even if she isn’t sure of herself, she’s very sure of her own
morality. Plus this is the book that features Henry Crawford, and that’s no bad
thing.
19.
The Old Curiosity Shop, by Charles
Dickens (1840-1)
It was only a matter
of time before I got onto Dickens. Now The
Old Curiosity Shop is by no means by favourite Dickens novel on the whole,
but it earns its place here because it contains one of my absolute favourite
characters in Dickens and in general, the wondrous and hilarious (and
unfortunately named) Dick Swiveller. He just has such glorious character
progression and is such a thoroughly lovable character.. As I do sometimes find
in Dickens, for me it’s not the main plot of The Old Curiosity Shop but the subplot that I love. Nell and her
grandfather pale in comparison with Dick, The Marchioness, Kit and the bizarre
Brass siblings. Ah, good old Dickens and his massive array of eccentric
characters.
18.
The Golden Notebook, Doris Lessing (1962)
I think I do like my
novels to be in weird forms. Lessing’s The
Golden Notebook comes in the form of four notebooks, all written and kept
by Anna Wulf, a writer living in London in the 1950s. In the Black Notebook she
records her writing career and her past in Rhodesia; in the Red Notebook she
writes about her experiences in the communist party; the Blue is her diary, and
in the Yellow Anna gives a fictionalised account of a previous love affair of
hers. These notebooks are interweaved with a third person narrative, seemingly
a novel called Free Women. I love
this strange and original structure for a novel. And it serves its purpose
wonderfully, for it brilliantly captures Anna’s struggle to organise herself
through the way she writes.
17.
Life After Life, Kate Atkinson (2013)
I only read this
novel this summer, but it’s a truly amazing one. I think I love it so much
partly because the writing’s just superb, partly because of the inter-war and
WWII historical setting, and partly just because the idea is so thoroughly
good. It tells the story of Ursula, a woman who begins her life over every time
she dies, with some vague sense in her mind of the life that went before. It’s
just a truly brilliant brilliant novel. Full review here.
16.
Never Let Me Go, Kauzo Ishiguro (2005)
I love this novel for
the sheer humanity in it. And of course it’s genius to have a novel exploring
what it means to be human from the perspective of people who have been
dehumanised – in this case clones bred for their organs. But I think my
favourite thing about Never Let Me Go is
that it’s so subtle. If you simply explain what it’s about – ie, clones – that
just doesn’t come anywhere near what it’s about really. At the centre of it
it’s more just a novel about human people coping, living and loving under awful
circumstances. And the characters are brilliant. And it’s brilliant. And I’ve
used the word ‘brilliant’ too many times in this blog post…
15. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë (1847)
It was actually Jane Eyre that got me into nineteenth
century literature to begin with. When I was thirteen, I watched the 2006 TV
adaptation with my mum one Sunday night, and was so gripped by the first
episode that I couldn’t wait until next week to see what happened and so
decided to read the book. From then on I discovered, Gaskell, Dickens, Austen,
Hardy, Trollope and all those other favourites of mine. So Jane Eyre has a lot to answer for. It is also a truly lovely and
great novel. What I particularly like is Jane and Rochester’s relationship.
They talk to each other like real people. They tease one another. It’s lovely.
“Am I hideous, Jane?”
“Very, sir: you
always were, you know.”
What a book.
14.
Midnight’s Children, Salman Rushdie (1981)
I think my favourite
thing about Midnight’s Children (besides my general enjoyment of semi-historical magical realism and the
fascinating cast of characters), is simply the language. Midnight’s Children is just so wonderfully brilliantly written.
Every sentence seems perfect without ever been overwritten. Every sentence –
even every chapter title – is crafted with such attention and effort that you
just can’t help but love it.
13.
Little Dorrit, by Charles Dickens (1855-7)
And we’re back to
Dickens. I did warn you. It would take me hours and hours to explain why I love
Dickens (some people have suffered through that in the past…), but I think the
main reasons I love his novels so much is because they have, to me, the perfect
balance between humour and emotion, between making you laugh, smile or cry. I
also love novels that have tons of characters. And I love that over the course
of Dickens’s fourteen novels you can watch him progress as a writer. As for Little Dorrit particularly, I think it
ranks as my third favourite Dickens novel because I love the characters so
much; this novel contains the gems of Edmund Sparkler, Fredrick Dorrit, Mr
Merdle, Jeremiah Flintwich and the lovely Daniel Doyce. I also love the
relationship between Arthur Clennam and Amy Dorrit. They’re one of the first
couples in Dickens that are friends before anything else, and one of the few
couples you can imagine actually existing and being happy beyond the pages of
the novel.
12.
Jude the Obscure, by Thomas Hardy (1895)
And another of my
Victorian favourites. What I love about Hardy is not so much his narrative
style as his dialogue and characters. Jude and Sue are just so real, and it’s
such a raw, passionate, awful and brilliant book. I reckon it’s one of the
books that makes me cry most – and another one of those novels that I’ve liked
even more through studying it. I recommend it to everyone, although it does
come with a warning: this is Hardy; expect some happiness, snatched from
despair, and a great deal of misery.
11.
if nobody speaks of remarkable things, by Jon McGregor (2002)
Next week: my top ten favourites...
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