BAN Books
My Bookshelf
This is essentially my literary Hall of Fame. It's a place where I'll display my favorite books and give brief explanations as to why. Not surprisingly, I'm starting it with my 10 essentials, which are not necessarily my 10 favorite books of all time, but certainly 10 of my favorites.
1.
I'm gonna get all my cheating out of the way (the biggest cheat is #3), so I'll
just tell you right now. My first entry is the Lord of the Rings trilogy by JRR
Tolkien. Each of the novels is split into two books, but Fellowship is
told mostly chronologically. The other two devote one book to Frodo, Sam,
and Gollum, and one book to the rest of the Fellowship. Tolkien's style
pays off for readers who want to know as much as possible about Middle-Earth,
because in this trilogy alone we learn much of the history and civilizations
there, not to mention the hints at stuff fleshed out in the Silmarillion.
The battles here are enjoyable, but not nearly as exciting as their cinematic
counterparts (especially Helm's Deep), but what kept me intrigued, as with all
great stories, was the journey. I just couldn't get enough of the
Fellowship's quests and the towers they'd encounter (about 6 in the Two Towers
alone) and the politics of Rohan or Gondor. My favorite aspect to these
books is that the world felt lived-in, probably more than any other books I've
read. Everything had a past, and all historical events build up to this
climactic battle. And these particular versions are the ones I own and
adore thanks to the cover art by Alan Lee.

2.
Secondly, and cheating still further, I'm including the fabulously controversial His
Dark Materials trilogy. To be honest, I didn't find them that blasphemous.
Yes, they take down The Authority, but the system was corrupt. Was their
quest not noble? Did Lyra not learn the value of independent thought?
Did Will not find love? I was captivated by these books from about the
second chapter (I'll admit the opening passages in alt-Oxford were a little
tiresome), largely due to Pullman's clear sense of style. His world is not
one of dragons or elves, and that is clear from the start. But talking
bears and old Texan balloonists fit right in. Even the dragonfly
chevaliers seemed to me perfect additions. I also loved that the mystery
continues until the end, and every time we learn a bit more of the answer, we
see how wrong we'd been. Lyra taking Roger to the Gobblers, for instance,
or Lyra trusting, then fearing, then trusting either of her parents.
Loyalties are constantly shifting and never absolute. And in the end, Lyra
helps destroy "God," and re-commits original sin, but knowingly. Amidst
the tapestry of Lyra's and Will's journey through worlds and underworlds fly the
angels, the witches, the great daemons (Pantalaimon and Hester being my
favorites), and the fabulously careless Mary Malone, scientist-nun
extraordinaire.





3.
And as you can probably guess, my final cheat is for the Harry Potter septology.
How could you include just one? This is the series of my
generation, and the books are filled with such rich detail that you can't help
but fall in love with Rowling's whimsical style. It's like the wizarding
equivalent of Pushing Daisies. I don't know what to say that I haven't
already written at length about. The characters are fantastic, the
artifacts and spells are intriguing, and the gradual history we uncover of all
the characters is incredible. Again, it's the details and the rich,
consistent style of the world in this series that has me returning to it even
now that we know most of the secrets. And in case you haven't heard, at
the same Q&A where JK Rowling revealed Albus is gay, she also revealed that his
brother Aberforth's goat obsession was sexual in nature! No other
children's author has the balls to include bestiality references.
4.
From here on out, I promise it'll be one book per slot, so I must give this one
to America the Book. Distilling the best parts of the Daily Show into a
textbook on American government (complete with an introduction written by Thomas
Jefferson), this is a hilariously strident look at US history, current affairs,
and the flaws of our government in action. Probably the only book advising
kids to disenfranchise a black student as a class activity, this book is best
when it's doing semi-inflammatory satire. The naked justices of the
Supreme Court is just a bonus. It's no surprise that the book has won
various awards, including, most awesomely, the Grammy for Best Comedy Album (for
the audio-book version).
5.
For my dinosaur entry, I'm going with the obvious, Dinotopia. I know many
of you have probably not read Dinotopia, so I'll do my best to establish the
world, for the actual island of Dinotopia and its civilization are my biggest
reasons for loving it. Dinotopia is an island in the Atlantic where
dinosaurs (from the time of Pangaea, or if you don't believe in that, from lies
perpetrated by godless Sodomites) have survived untouched by man. The
island is surrounded by vicious coral reefs (and aquatic dinosaurs) that have
led to many shipwrecks, whose survivors are ferried by the kindly Dinotopian
dolphins to the coast. There, they developed a whole society of
human-dinosaur cooperation, and the books only require that as suspension of
disbelief. Aside from the idea of dinosaurs living here, no real fantasy
elements exist. The stories are written as Victorian travelogues (they are
technically excerpts from old-fashioned Arthur Denison's journal), and the first
one is thrown into the sea at the end--to be discovered by author James Gurney
and published. I love the story of Arthur and his son Will searching for a
way home, only to discover that Dinotopia is a perfect home for them, mostly
because I believe Dinotopia would be a perfect home for me. The art is
breath-taking, and each of the different cities (Waterfall City, Treetown, etc.)
have their own cultures reflected in their art, architecture, and social
customs. Further, Gurney has come up with several interesting uses for the
dinosaurs, such as taxis, a fire brigade, pterodactyl-riding messengers, and the
like, which helps ground the civilization. But really, it all comes down
to this: any book that makes me wish I lived in its pages has earned a
spot on my bookshelf.
6.
My first graphic novel on the shelf stars its seminal hero (don't say Superman),
Batman. Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns is, without a doubt, the
most trenchant criticism of the 1980s I've seen, and I think paired with The
Watchmen (which I'm almost done with), it proves the worth of comics and graphic
novels in the artistic world. By the time of the novel, citizens aren't as
naive as they once were and are split on whether Batman (and vigilantism) is
good or bad. It's like the credits footage from Boondock Saints; is it
acceptable for someone to operate outside the laws if they are fighting crime?
Aside from this, I'd rather not give away any plot points. Suffice to say
that it is devastatingly apocalyptic, which seems to reflect the zeitgeist of
1980s' America.
7.
I am not leaving much room for "classics," so let's throw in one of my favorites
right here: Wuthering Heights. I'm not sure this is my all-time
favorite "classic," but it certainly ranks up there for me. It helps that
the experience of reading it enhanced the subject matter; it was my summer
reading for senior English, and I read it over a few nights after everyone had
gone to bed during a rainy week--very Gothic. I'm not sure if I can
explain why I love this book so much, but there are certainly a lot of elements
with self-explanatory appeal: storms and ruins, betrayal and revenge, a
ghost in the attic. Everyone's mean to everyone else, and it all makes for
a wonderful generations-long soap opera affair between Heathcliff and Catherine
that extends its umbrella of devastation to encompass everyone in their lives.
Almost everyone dies, and as Shakespeare can attest, that means the story is
perfect.
8.
And from American literature, I gotta go with Catcher in the Rye, the
quintessential adolescent boy's book. I did my junior English paper on it,
and reading it felt nothing like work. Basically, Holden Caulfield gets
kicked out of yet another private school and, before going home to tell his
parents, leaves in the night and takes a couple days wandering around New York
citing everything phony he finds in society. He goes to Radio City Hall to
see the Rock-ettes, he skates at the rink at Rockefeller Center, and he hits up
several other New York hotspots, like bars, jazz clubs, and a hotel room with a
prostitute, endlessly pursuing sex. I especially enjoyed his conversation
with the nuns and of course the ending. Society is too fake, and it
deserves to be called out on it. So thank you, crazy JD Salinger.
9.
Chuck Klosterman IV is my philosophical pick. It's divided perfectly into
three sections, the first of which is a collection of previously published
interviews. The Bono interview is an incredible examination of his persona
that comes down to one question: Has the man who named himself Bono become
his persona, and is that even a bad thing? I also loved the Val Kilmer
interview of course, but every interview had me praising Klosterman's style and
the specific focus of his probing questions. Often, hour-long interviews
would give way to one specific area that was focused on in the article.
The next section is a collection of articles questioning why certain things
happen the way they do, and each begins with a great hypothetical question.
Klosterman distills all my thoughts about the Olympics in one brief chapter
quite eloquently. And at the end, we get the beginning of a book that he
would have written. Maybe. Klosterman can be wrong, and sometimes he
can be a bit arrogant, but I love hearing his thoughts on pretty much everything
relating to pop culture, and this was my first foray into Klosterman's
repertoire.
10.
And my first modern lit spot goes to Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones. I
gave a speech about this book to my Women's Lit class, so I want to try to avoid
regurgitating that here, but the basis was that this novel is incredible.
Susie Salmon gets raped and murdered in the first chapter, and what follows are
300 pages of her watching her loved ones from Heaven and flashing back to flesh
out the story. Everything is sad, but its not overwhelming. The
despair is certainly pervasive, and rightfully so, but it is never too heavy,
like Requiem for a Dream or something. And in the end, the characters grow
closer and learn to move on. The lovely bones, you see, are the bones that
make up your legacy on Earth. In other words, they're the relationships
you leave behind. And the ending is both happy and positive and inspiring
and incredibly poignant. I don't want to ruin it, but like the final four
words of 1984, I will always remember the final sentences of this book.
Brandon's Bookshelf










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