The Guardian abets my Listmania
Today, D's roommate walks by and finds me gazing raptly at the computer screen.
"I thought you were going for a walk," she says.
"Um. I was. I should have," I reply. "Now I am doing something considerably less virtuous."
"What," she scoffs, "are you looking at porn?"
"Bibliophile porn," I reply.
I have been ensnared, you see, by the Guardian's 1000 Novels Everyone Must Read List.
Now, you all know how I feel about lists. I have a bit of an addiction, to be honest. I can't seem to resist them: they are just so filled with possibility. They seem to promise (always falsely) that there will be no disappointments here: these are vetted pantheons of greatness, just waiting to be wandered by me.
I have been deeply in the thrall of the 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die list and the 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die list for a number of years now, with the lasting effect that I now think about my own mortality in terms of how many books and films will remain unexperienced. Oh god, I thought the other day, someday there will be a book that I just ... never finish. This struck a distinctly tragic note with me.
The Guardian's list is considerably less historical in its orientation and notably more generic in its organization. The result is that there are a lot more mysteries, sci fi and fantasy works, and graphic novels than the 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die has room for. I am doing slightly better with the Guardian's list than with the other, but I have still only read about 17% of the list.
Let me repeat that: after twelve years of uninterrupted academic study of the field of literature, I have only read 17% of the list. And I am astonished at how few of the works from the lists I have read in recent, stressful years. Admittedly I have been focusing more narrowly on my field (drama) in these years, but still.
Tsk.
"I thought you were going for a walk," she says.
"Um. I was. I should have," I reply. "Now I am doing something considerably less virtuous."
"What," she scoffs, "are you looking at porn?"
"Bibliophile porn," I reply.
I have been ensnared, you see, by the Guardian's 1000 Novels Everyone Must Read List.
Now, you all know how I feel about lists. I have a bit of an addiction, to be honest. I can't seem to resist them: they are just so filled with possibility. They seem to promise (always falsely) that there will be no disappointments here: these are vetted pantheons of greatness, just waiting to be wandered by me.
I have been deeply in the thrall of the 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die list and the 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die list for a number of years now, with the lasting effect that I now think about my own mortality in terms of how many books and films will remain unexperienced. Oh god, I thought the other day, someday there will be a book that I just ... never finish. This struck a distinctly tragic note with me.
The Guardian's list is considerably less historical in its orientation and notably more generic in its organization. The result is that there are a lot more mysteries, sci fi and fantasy works, and graphic novels than the 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die has room for. I am doing slightly better with the Guardian's list than with the other, but I have still only read about 17% of the list.
Let me repeat that: after twelve years of uninterrupted academic study of the field of literature, I have only read 17% of the list. And I am astonished at how few of the works from the lists I have read in recent, stressful years. Admittedly I have been focusing more narrowly on my field (drama) in these years, but still.
Tsk.