The Casual Ten tag is possibly my favorite book tag ever, because you basically just talk about ten books without any underlying theme or requirement (or, in my case, you can choose what the theme is). Today I decided to do a little spin and instead talk about ten authors I adore.
Whimsical yet profound, Smith's style is the best mix of linguistic playfulness and erudite intertextuality. She is definitely an acquired taste (one that plenty of people indeed never acquire); her books are thin on plot and thick on existential and interpersonal musings, but if you're a lover of slice-of-life and all things bookish, I think you should give her a go. If you're intrigued, I'd recommend you start with Public Library and Other Stories. The short story format is a good way to immerse yourself in her writing without having to follow a barely-there plot (though if you do want to, I recommend How to be both).
2) Joan Didion
As a fan of pretentious American literary pop culture, Didion had been in the back of my mind for a few years when I came across Slouching Towards Bethlehem at Ocelot bookstore in Berlin. I started it almost right away, specifically on a train from Berlin to Cologne... and it transformed my thoughts on essay writing (and writing in general). I always describe Didion's narrative as "she takes you by the hand and sits you right beside her; you and her are both there, both passive yet involved onlookers". Even when she is the main character, everything feels analytical and distant, yet sharp and raw. If you don't like essays, you might start with The Year of Magical thinking, her most celebrated memoir about loss and grief. (She does write fiction, but I sincerely hope you start off with her non-fiction).
3) Yukio Mishima
As a writer, Mishima is the epitome of East-West syncretism. Even though his writing is a deep and convoluted exploration of traditional Japanese aesthetics, experience, history, and how they have been impacted by the West, his work drips of decadent/Greco-Roman/Uranian/modernist Western literature. I began by reading Confessions of a Mask (a wonderfully gory auto-fictional bildungsroman), and, as a recent Wilde convert, my mind was blown. I have to admit I do struggle with his politics, which were pro Japanese imperialism, and his misogyny, rooted in intellectualism and his (un)repressed homosexuality, but his work is endlessly fascinating to me. If you're unsure this is your brand of obsessive self-examination, I recommend you begin by picking up Death in Midsummer and Other Stories, a collection that showcases his range as an author. My absolute favorite is "Onnagata".
4) Gabriel García Márquez
I've been unfair to good ol' Gabo these last few years, reading mostly Northern hemisphere literature, but I plan to rectify this in 2020. One of the few true masters of magical realism, García Márquez was also a gifted essayist and journalist. Yes, One Hundred Years of Solitude is as good as they make it, but I wouldn't start there—too long, too many names, too much magic. I'd nudge you towards Strange Pilgrims (short story collection) or Chronicle of a Death Foretold (a masterful and underrated short novel) instead. I don't know how good the English translations are, but I have yet to read anyone who did or does employ Spanish quite as masterfully as he did.
5) Dorothy Parker
Q u e e n. Manic-depressive, alcoholic, witty, suicidal, observant, brilliant, sad, unstable... Dorothy Parker is everything I might've become if I hadn't started therapy at a young age. Her biting irony is received with cynicism these days, but her rhymes are morbidly amazing precisely because they are well-crafted yet unassuming. Plus, her poignant short stories can give any of the canonized men of the twenties and thirties a run for their money (and win!) It's a big commitment, but you truly cannot go wrong with The Portable Dorothy Parker in this beautiful Penguin Deluxe Edition (which includes the original Portable, crafted by Parker herself and some extra writings selected by Marion Meade).
6) Christopher Isherwood
As it often happens in the contemporary world, I got to Isherwood through film. After being extremely moved by Colin Firth in A Single Man, I just had to read the book. I've been craving more and more Isherwood ever since. I don't know if it's a good way to start as I have not read that much of his work yet, but I highly recommend two of Isherwood's most well-known works: A Single Man (if you want heart-wrenching musings on grief and homosexuality) and Goodbye to Berlin (if you're into sketches of daily working/middle class life, especially as a foreigner), which, by the way, is highly recommended by awesome author Olivia Laing. Isherwood's writing is simple yet evocative, self-referential yet profound. On my recent stay in Dublin I got a book of his letters, which is ready to be devoured!
7) Virginia Woolf
Loving her as much as I do, it is a travesty I have not read more of Virginia Woolf. Having read Mrs. Dalloway twice, a handful of her short stories, and a few of her essays (including Three Guineas), it's time I get serious about tackling her bibliography. Either way, I really recommend Death of the Moth, an essay which I think gives you a sense of who she is as both an essayist, thinker, and writer of fiction.
8) F. Scott Fitzgerald
I firmly believe it is safe to claim, without a hint of snark, that The Great Gatsby is one of the best novels ever written in the history of existence. Compact and beautifully written, entertaining and full of layers, it is a novel of its times as much as it is relevant nowadays (and not in the ambiguous hero-quest way, but a real this-is-happening-today sense). I will never recommend it enough. If you're looking to read more by him and don't feel like reading Tender is the Night or The Beautiful and Damned yet, you should definitely check out his short story The Curious Case of Benjamin Button—especially if you've seen the movie, you'll be absolutely surprised.
9) Jane Austen
What a shook! A young woman fawning over Austen's wit—but hey, the gal could write. No matter how many people focus on the romance or the social commentary, the brilliance of her books is that she could do both and merge them seamlessly. That said, throw that Pride and Prejudice copy away (not really, it's too good) and go read Emma (totally underrated). I read Emma for the first time when I was around 10, a Spanish translation in a beautiful naked hardback, and was exposed for the first time to the concept of irony and unlikeable protagonists that can still resonate with you (and how a controlling, self-centered, only child who loves her dad resonated with me!) 2020 is the year of Emma!
10) Oscar Wilde
Of course I had to include my dude Wilde on this list. I had been deeply moved by Wilde's fairy tales as a child, not understanding who he had been or the extent of his cultural impact. When I finally read The Picture of Dorian Gray in High School (though fortunately not for High School) I was so impressed and shaken by the aestheticism and the complexity of the tension between morality and decadence that I needed more. Fast forward almost ten years later and I'm a complete Wilde-phile: I accumulate biographies, essay collections, editions of Dorian Gray, and general bookish junk. If decadence and symbolism are not necessarily your thing, do not despair! His Society Plays and Essays are full of his amazing wit and sharp observations. Two of my faves are "Lady Windermere's Fan" and "The Soul of Man Under Socialism", respectively.
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