I’m a sucker for a “Greatest [Anything] of All Time” list, even more so when it’s about books.
I’m not going to lie, I’ve always been fascinated by compilations of the greatest anything: greatest footballer, greatest military generals, greatest rock bands, and so on. As a kid, I even remember having books that listed the most infamous serial killers, though I am far too squeamish and sensitive to get any enjoyment out of those anymore.
Needless to say, I know these lists are wildly subjective, ordered according to arcane algorithms known to only the select cabal of decision makers, and generated purely to spark debate and engagement (and purchases of whatever periodical they are compiled in). BUT, there is still something I find strangely satisfying about reading through such a list and going, ‘uh huh, yeah, I definitely agree that Pet Sounds is one of the top 10 best albums of all time’ (my wife doesn’t!), or ‘what do you mean, Rio Ferdinand is behind John Terry as the best centre back in Premier League history?”
And I can say that The Guardian’s recent list of the 100 greatest novels of all time list, certainly caught my interest. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve not long joined a book club, which was founded by a few of us dads from my children’s school, so this list came at the most opportune time to generate debate, spark ideas for which novel to read next (our choice was Moby Dick), and, of course, time to get out that pen and tick off what books I’ve read to make me feel all pretentiously good about myself.
Well, I soon started feeling much less pretentious and well-read when I realised I had read only 15 books off the list. Though, I hastened to console–and then chastise–myself because I had started but not finished another 10 (and 1 was bought for me as a gift for my birthday last month). 1 in 4 would have made me feel a bit too smug, perhaps, and it reminded me that my age old problem of quitting when things got tough kicked in again. Thankfully, I was able to argue for one of the books on the list that I quit so that I can (hopefully) read it until the end: Moby Dick, which featured at #15 on that list.
If you’re interested, the books in that top 100 list that I’ve (currently read) are:
- The Road, Cormac McCarthy (#98)
- Catch-22, Joseph Heller (#97)
- The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin (#89)
- A Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway (#83)
- Dracula, Bram Stoker (#76)
- Blood Meridian, Cormac McCarthy (#68)
- The Color Purple, Alice Walker (#65)
- Half of a Yellow Sun, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (#62)
- Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro (#59)
- Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel (#34)
- Frankenstein, Mary Shelley (#30)
- Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov (#25)
- Midnight’s Children, Salman Rushdie (#23)
- Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell (#16)
- Emma, Jane Austen (#13)
I won’t say what 10 books I started and didn’t finish, other than to say 6 of them are in the top 20. As I said, these lists are wildly subjective. That, or I am an incorrigible philistine.
As with any such list, there will be arguments over placing etc. and omissions, but for the life of me I do not know why there was no place for The Lord of the Rings, given (if nothing else), its profound impact on fantasy literature and modern culture. There are a number of speculative fiction novels on the list, so I don’t think it is an inherent anti-spec-fic snobbery from The Guardian so I wonder if it might be because it is considered a trilogy and not an individual novel (The Fellowship of the Ring The Two Towers and The Return of the King were originally released individually, but I can’t say I’ve ever since seen them sold as anything but as a complete set). Who knows?
Anyway, that’s my gripe with the list and, let’s be honest, commenting on a list of 100 best anything would not be complete without a moan about what missed the cut, would it?
What books did you read? And, what books made your list / what’s your gripe with the list?