An English Major's Bookshelf

Let’s face it; everyone has had that moment in class where the professor referenced Prometheus or the important symbolic value of snakes or Jung or Freud or something else outside the realm of literature that went straight over his or her head. Here, for every student who has felt like a complete moron in one English class or another, is a list of several books that, when all else fails, will at least make you sound smarter when you cite them:

Mythology
by Edith Hamilton
My friend Corey has been after me to read this book since fifth grade, so that’s a good 12, almost 13, years. I even tried to buy it on Amazon once, only to have my college’s mailroom lose it. Finally, Corey simply gave me one of her twelve copies, for which I am really, truly grateful. It covers Greek and Roman mythology almost comprehensively, with a smattering of Norse mythology at the end. Perfect for looking up all those crazy mythological references in Fitzgerald.

The Hero with A Thousand Faces or The Power of Myth
by Joseph Campbell
If you steer clear of his self-help books and concentrate on what Campbell has done with his examination of the common themes in world myths, stories and folklore, you’ll be amazed at how easily you’re able to find patterns that connect the themes in almost all literature. Also, it gives you the chance to raise your hand in class and say things like, “Well, the way I see it, Huck is really on a modified and somewhat ironic hero’s journey…”

Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious
by Carl Gustav Jung
Campbell owes a lot more to Jung than he admits, and also this is a great way to get ideas for paper topics like “Shadow Figures in Children's Literature” or “Who Is That Masked Woman? The Nature of the Modern Anima as Seen in John Cheever’s Short Works.” Or something.

The Interpretation of Dreams
by Sigmund Freud
Haven’t read it, but I plan to as soon as I can wrap my head around the whole notion of sitting down with Freud on my summer vacation. Heh. Anyway, Freud is kind of another perspective from Jung, and I’m willing to bet that anything Jung didn’t cover, or didn’t cover in a way that would help you, Freud did.

The Origin of Species
by Charles Darwin
Obviously, Darwin’s work had an incredible impact on the scientific, social, and literary realms. Seriously, he started a whole movement of literature called “naturalism” which was all about biological forces and natural selection and the like. So it’s probably good to have.

The Encyclopedia Britannica
Yes, the whole thing. And no, I don’t own it. But even though Wikipedia is faster and much cheaper, professors won’t take Wikipedia as a reliable source. No one is willing to mess with the old EB, though, so use it at will. Also makes for a great conversation starter, as you’ll know facts like that coffee is the second most traded product in the world after petroleum.

Other Works You Might Want:

A good Latin-to-English dictionary
Older works and even some new ones use Latin a whole lot. So you’re going to want this, especially if you’re reading Thomas De Quincey or something.

A good French-to-English dictionary
Same as above; I’ve always found mine useful. Then again, I was also taking French, so it came in handy in other ways.

The MLA Stylebook, Eats, Shoots and Leaves or The Chicago Manual of Style
Anything that will help you with grammatical questions while writing papers. You might be the most brilliant literary mind in several hundred years, but no one will take you seriously if you don’t know the difference between their, they’re and there.

Mercy by Jodi Picoult

Dear Jodi,

Oh, Jodi, Jodi, Jodi. What were you thinking here? I mean, I loved Plain Truth. I even referenced it in another post because I liked it so much. It felt so real, and so researched, and so amazing that I lauded you as the girl who graduated Princeton and became a fantastic writer.

Apparently it didn’t happen that fast. Or you messed up along the way somewhere. Because somehow, you managed to produce Mercy, a book that, while it has some wonderful imagery and ideas, was possessed with the kind of absurdity I would never have expected from you.

Number one, how is it possible for everyone in the town to be related if the protagonist married a woman from his hometown? If he married his cousin, just say so. But it seems like everyone in the town is related except for her, and that gets confusing. It’s a little like asking where Cain found his wife, you know?

Number two, I find it hard to believe that you can so easily translate a Scottish clan leader from the 1700s to a modern-day police chief in a small town. I mean, maybe. But I really think you pushed the Scottish thing too far. These people are American. Their ancestors might have been Scottish, they may have Scottish heritage, but none of them should be breaking out into brogues. Which, unfortunately, the main character does more than once. This being a man who lived in Scotland only briefly, twenty years ago.

Number three, the affair? Ugh. What in God’s name were you trying to do there? The main character’s affair was everything the relationship in Plain Truth was not – overblown and characterized with a passion that I am pretty sure you stole out of that month’s Harlequin Romance. The flowers were a nice touch, but not enough to rescue it.

Finally, and I hate to say this, but you managed to make me hate almost every character in this book. The main character was a jerk and a cheat and a fake, his wife needed to grow a pair, his lover needed to get over herself and stop being so bloody free-spirited, his cousin needed to come to terms with the fact that even though he killed his wife out of love, it’s still a murder, and his cousin’s wife needed to realize that perhaps asking her husband to kill her might have some unpleasant consequences for him. Like jail time.

That’s not to say that they were badly drawn, I’m just saying, I wanted someone to root for. I did like the lawyer, though, so well done there. (Side note: All your lawyers are sympathetic, and at least one is really heart-wrenchingly hot. Are you perchance married to a lawyer?)

I’m glad you’ve changed and grown since this, Jodi. I can only hope that My Sister’s Keeper is better, proving that Plain Truth is a true representation of your work, and not just a fluke.

Eat Pray Love By Elizabeth Gilbert

So Sofie and I have come to Pizzeria da Michele, and these pies we have just ordered—one for each of us—are making us lose our minds. I love my pizza so much, in fact, that I have come to believe in my delirium that my pizza might actually love me, in return…

Like all great philosophical ideas, this one is simple to understand but virtually impossible to imbibe. OK—so we are all one, and divinity abides within us equally. No problem. Understood. But now try living from that place…

But I was always coming here. I thought about one of my favorite Sufi poems, which says that God long ago drew a circle in the sand exactly around the spot where you are standing right now. I was never not coming here. This was never not going to happen.

See, this is why I love Penguin Books: because they print books like this. There are so many reasons to love this book that I can’t even think where to start. Elizabeth Gilbert in an Italian café, wishing an Italian friend would kiss her. This is as good a place as any, since at its heart, this book is basically about a woman who has a passion for travel and an infatuation with life—or is it the other way around?

In the introduction, Gilbert explains that her book is made of 108 short episodes, divided into three sections containing 36 stories each, all of which were written in her 36^th year. The quotes above include one quote from each section, starting with Italy, the next from India, and the next from Indonesia.

Now, I don’t consider myself an excessively superstitious person, or even overly obsessive-compulsive, but I have to admit there is something reassuring about a logical structure based on a number that is held to be sacred (or at least very important) by at least two world religions. And it's my favorite number, so that counts (har har) for something, I guess.

So I was already sold by page two. But then Gilbert talks about how she got to Italy—the divorce, the depression, the affair, the yearning to speak a language that makes her feel sexy again. And, in addition, how she has chosen three countries (Italy, India, and Indonesia) to help her regain her sense of who she is and how she should be living her life.

It’s clear that Gilbert has found out who she is—her voice is not only strong and clear throughout, but amazingly likeable. Even though she obviously has some extensive financial resources, judging by her ability to take a year off and travel, she never name-drops about her employment or gives off the tiniest air or superiority.

The book reads like your friend Liz invited you over for a cup of coffee and you two had a conversation about some amazing things she did. Never preachy, always enjoyable, and often life-altering, this is one of the few books I know will go with me wherever I end up.