Tag Archives: Time Magazine 100 Novels

Review of To the Lighthouse (1929) by Virginia Woolf

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 92: To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf (1929)

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

To the Lighthouse is like a well painted still life, to utilize an image from the book. More accurately it is two moments in life, each carefully cataloged and described. Virginia Woolf has an artistic flair in her use of the English language as her palette to describe the Ramsay household and the extended number of close guests that occupy the action around the house. This is stream of consciousness writing informed by the sensibilities of a highly educated English family. There is a Freudian Oedipus Complex that emerges between father and son in the story, particularly visible in the second act, and there are times where the language and attitudes of the characters become pretentious to a point that it is distracting. It is a world where communication, especially between men and women, seems nearly impossible and much of the drama of the book is the characters waiting for someone of the opposite sex to intuit what the speaker in that moment of the book needs and relieve the anxiety of the moment.  To utilize another image from the book it looks at the image of a perfectly balanced tray of fruit whose appearance is ruined by someone taking one of the pieces away from the platter. The two visions in the story are separated by the death of several key characters during the ten years that separate the interactions. This dramatically change the balance for each character.

Every book is not for every reader, and when a story fails for me, I often wonder what it is that makes me not the best reader of the book, particularly a book other intelligent readers have enjoyed. I appreciate Virginia Woolf’s utilization of the English language and the flow of her words on the page. Stream of consciousness writing has always been a struggle for me. To utilize the image above of a well painted still life, I can admire the artistry the artist puts into the individual brushstrokes but I only want to look at it for so long. Reading is a subjective experience and both the subject matter and the lack of movement of any type of plot made this a less enjoyable read for me. There have been several novels on the Time Magazine Top 100 novels that are set within a highly educated or very well off-English household in the early 20th Century and this time-period seems a sterile environment for both relationships and life with so much effort being placed into maintaining appearances. I can appreciate the artistry of the book and why so many people consider it one of the great English language novels but maybe I am just not a patient enough reader for the stream of consciousness novels that were popular among the elite of the early 20th Century.

A Review of Call it Sleep by Henry Roth (1934)

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 18: Call it Sleep by Henry Roth

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

Call it Sleep follows a young Jewish boy, David Schearl who immigrates to the United States with his mother Genya. Upon arriving he is introduced to his emotionally unstable and unloving father Albert Schearl. Young David struggles to engage with other children and adults and Henry Roth does a good job of writing a story from the perspective of an early elementary age boy. David is an innocent in a rough world, and he fears both the world outside and of his violent father. The place of an innocent in a fallen and rough world seems to animate the narration as David continually finds himself in situations he is unprepared for. From a neighbor girl who wants to play ‘bad’ to an older Gentile boy who takes advantage of David’s desire for attention to put himself in a position to take advantage of one of David’s cousins. Central to the story is a secret his mother tells her sister, which David overhears, about being in love with a Christian organ player to the disgrace of her family. The one place where David fits in is in chedar, a one room Hebrew school for young boys. David has a talent for Hebrew recitation and it also curious about the little bit of insight into God he receives from Reb Pankower, but this is also where David allows his interpretation of his mother’s secret to slip out to disastrous effects. When a rabbi who hears David’s confession brings it to his mother and father it creates an explosive crisis in the home.

Every book is not for every reader, and when a story fails for me, I often wonder what it is that makes me not the best reader of the book, particularly a book other intelligent readers have enjoyed. Part of my struggle was the language of dialogue between the young people in the narrative in broken English which made it more difficult to follow. The lines spoken in Yiddish are translated into easily read English, but Henry Roth attempts to copy the slang and accent of English spoken in the Jewish ghettos of the early 1900s. I can also appreciate Henry Roth’s ability to convey the mental state of a young boy, but young David is an unreliable interpreter of the world around him. I can understand why young David is fearful, and I appreciate the way his perspective sheds light on the immigrant experience, but it also made for a dull read. Call it Sleep was ultimately a book I could appreciate but not one I enjoyed.

Review of Go Tell It On The Mountain by James Baldwin (1953)

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 35: Go Tell It On The Mountain by James Baldwin (1953)

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

Go Tell It On The Mountain starts on the birthday of John Grimes who is the central character in this book of religion and hypocrisy, love desired and rarely returned, a family of secrets and hurt, and the first arousals of sexuality in a young man who realizes he is attracted to other men. Gabriel, his father but not his biological father, Elizabeth, John’s mother, and Florence, John’s aunt and Gabriel’s sister, all contribute to the tension in this household as well as the younger son Roy, biological son of Gabriel, and the unclaimed memory of Royal, an out of wedlock son of Gabriel who died before this moment in the story. The event of John’s birthday, which his mother belatedly remembers, is pushed into the background when his belligerent younger brother storms out of the house only to return wounded by a knife. Even though it is his birthday and he had taken his mother’s belated gift of a little money to the theater, his father lashes out at him, his mother, and his aunt in exasperation about Roy’s wild ways. John eventually escapes to the storefront church where his father is a deacon and the theme of sexuality emerges as he wrestles with Elisha, an older boy in the church, as they set up for evening services.

The remainder of the book occurs in flashbacks and visions during the evening church service where first his aunt Florence remembers her life and reluctantly surrenders to prayer. Then his father’s life is revealed in his wild teenage years, his marriage, his affair which produces Royal who he never claims and eventually dies a violent death, and his marriage to Elizabeth, John’s mother. Then Elizabeth has her own vision of her weak mother and the father who she loved. After her mother’s death who she was taken from by her father by her aunt because of the work her father does. She grows up in a loveless childhood but finds love in a young man named Richard. Before she can tell Richard about her pregnancy he commits suicide after a wrongful arrest by the police. Finally, is John’s dark night of the soul before his vision and acceptance of Christ.

The book does a good job of showing both the brokenness and the strength of faith. The Pentecostal tradition has a strong emphasis on holiness and yet the book is open about the hypocrisy and closely held secrets of the men who lead the church. It is a story of several intertwined people who never experienced the love they desired from the fathers, mothers, and siblings in their lives and who continue to hand on their broken lives to the next generation. The visions in part two do a good job of telling the backstory of the characters but even among the revelations of the visions the brokenness between the family members remains entrenched to the end. Even as there should be celebration over the salvation of John, his father Gabriel remains closed off from him. The shattered relationship between Gabriel and Florence over Gabriel’s wild past and his unforgiving nature is never resolved even though Florence feels she is near the end of her life, and she holds a letter with the secret of Gabriel’s out of wedlock child which she threatens to release to the congregation. Apparently, the story is semi-autobiographical, and I can appreciate the way the author works through his broken home and broken heart through the pages of the book.

Review of the Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner (1929)

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 85: The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner (1929)

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

The Sound and the Fury is the second William Faulkner book I have read and reviewed, and it was even less enjoyable than A Light in August. Both books tell ugly stories using ugly language with occasional moments of poetic prose. I listened to an audiobook of this which was even more disturbing than reading this book full of unlikeable characters continually arguing with one another. Especially in the initial chapter when you are hearing through the ears of ‘Benjy’ and it switches back and forth from his memories as a young child to his confusion as a thirty-three-year-old man with childlike emotions, I found myself wondering what I was listening to. The novel is historically situated in a time where the views on race, sex, religion, and society are very different from our current era. In Faulkner’s other work I reviewed there were times I could fall into Faulkner’s poetic use of prose, but in the Sound and the Fury the only scene where the transcendent language overcame the harsh, ugly, argumentative language was in the final chapter during the Easter service. The story is tragic as the family at the heart of the story disintegrates in its dysfunction, but I had a difficult time having any empathy for any of the Compson family.

If William Faulkner’s intent in the Sound and the Fury was to induce disgust, then he was successful. The language of the American South from the 1910s and 1920s is jarring to an educated ear a century later and I often found this ugly language resonating in my head long after I removed my headphones. This book made me viscerally angry, and I was sorely tempted to not finish it. Perhaps it, like Flannery O’Connor’s work, presents an uncomfortable mirror to the world of my grandparents whose prejudices echo in both spoken and unspoken ways in our own but there was none of the artistry of Flannery O’Connor. I am glad that there are no other works by William Faulkner on this list, because I have no interest in reading anything by him in the future. I have never been as happy to reach the conclusion of a book.

Review of Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 27: Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather (1927)

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

This was a well written and very enjoyable historical fiction book set in late 1800s New Mexico and Arizona. Bishop Jean Marie Latour travels with his friend and fellow priest Joseph Valliant from Ohio to assume responsibility for the parish of New Mexico now that New Mexico and Arizona have been incorporated into the United States. The author does a great job describing the environment that the two men inhabit, and I appreciate her sympathetic handling of both the two main characters, the Mexican and the Native People who inhabit this world. The story includes several historical characters including Kit Carson and Pope Gregory XVI and both the main characters and their parishioners are well developed and interesting. As a pastor I found the devotion of both Bishop Latour and Father Valliant to their flock inspiring.

The descriptions of the land are breathtaking, and Willa Cather obviously has a great deal of affection for both the land and the characters in the story. As a person who enjoys the history of the American West and is a religious leader this was a story that appealed to me strongly. I quickly found myself journeying with the characters through New Mexico, Mexico, Arizona, and eventually Colorado. It was a story of life, faith, and relationships. This was a beautifully written work of historical fiction portraying the faithful life of two religious leaders encountering faith in the people they are called to shepherd is the type of novel I hoped to discover in this reading list.

Review of the Moviegoer by Walker Percy

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 54: The Moviegoer by Walker Percy (1961)

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

The Moviegoer is a book where the prose is lyrical set in the late 1950s New Orleans region. Binx Bolling (full name John Bickerson Bolling) is a stock trader who lives in a middle-class suburb called Gentilly, but who frequently goes into New Orleans to see his aunt (Emily Cutrer, who raised him) and his cousin Kate Cutrer. Binx is torn between his existential quest to avoid everydayness and his enjoyment of movies and the women he hires as his secretaries. He holds one moment ba

ck in the war after he had been shot as a moment when life had meaning but he also seems to revel in his own listless approach to life. His cousin Kate avoids committing herself to life as much as Binx and seems only held to life by the possibility of suicide. Between his aunt, who is the center of gravity in the family, Kate with her non-commitance to life, and Binx caught in his own unmoving existentialism the characters and the story conspire to remain stuck.

This was a book where I could see how the language could attract the attention of Lev Grossman and Richa

rd Lacayo, and perhaps the appeal of the existential crisis of people who in their own way rebelled against the conformity of the 1950s. As a reader I found the book incredibly frustrating. It was an example of spending pages describing something in a refined stream of consciousness which allowed the story and characters to remain stuck. I understand that Binx and the rest of the family are antiheroes in their own way, and I have also lived in Louisiana, although this is not unique to Louisiana or the south, and have met people who used similar tactics to remain stuck in their malaise. These experiences may have enhanced my frustration with the characters in the story. Others may love this short book, but it was not for me.

A Review of A Passage to India by E. M. Foster

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 70: A Passage to India by E. M. Foster (1924)

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

A Passage to India is an uncomfortable read. It is a story set in India under British colonial rule and is a story of multiple cultures that do not communicate effectively with each other. There is the British citizens who view themselves as people bringing civilization to the people of India and view the Indian people as inferior and dangerous. Even among the Indians there are the divisions between Muslim and Hindu Indians. Two women come to India, Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Adela Quested, to visit Mrs. Moore’s son, Ronny who is the magistrate for the fictional city of Chandrapore. Both women hope to experience India while they are there, but the English citizens in India, especially the women, keep to the safety of their compounds. Mrs. Quested is also trying to decide if she will marry Ronny Moore, and initially she is inclined to break off the engagement, but in a stressful situation she agrees to marry Ronny. Later the two women go on an outing to the Marabar Hills with Doctor Aziz, a Muslim Indian doctor who attempts to meet the expectations of these English women. Yet, Adela Quested in a moment of being overwhelmed in the cave first, unknowingly, insults Doctor Aziz and then later accuses him of assaulting her.

The English, except for Cyril Fielding the headmaster of a small government run college for Indians, are convinced of Doctor Aziz’ guilt, and the Indians rally around the Doctor. Eventually in the trial Mrs. Quested withdraws her accusation and Doctor Aziz is freed, but animosity remains between all the characters until almost the end of the story. It is a story of miscommunication and varied expectations between cultures. English, Muslims, and Hindus in the story often have no interest in understanding one another.

I cannot say I enjoyed this book. I understand why it is an important book, especially when it was published in 1924. Even though E. M. Foster attempts to be sympathetic to the Indian characters in the story, there are times that I cringe at the way he portrays them. Part of this may be that I live in an area with a large Indian population and although their level of education and their exposure to western society is different that what colonial India would have experienced in the 1920s, there are times when the colonial attitudes the book is attempting to critique still come through.

Review of Rabbit, Run by John Updike

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 76: Rabbit, Run by John Updike (1960)

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

Rabbit, Run is the story of Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom a former basketball star who now feels trapped in a meaningless job and an unsatisfying marriage. Coming home after a brief experience on the basketball court with some younger boys he looks at his life with his wife Janice as a trap and he initially makes a run in his car planning to leave for the south, but then returns to the area and seeks out his old basketball coach. His former coach lost his job in a scandal and soon connects “Rabbit” with Ruth Leonard who was a prostitute at the time. Harry moves in with Ruth for several months and starts a new job as a gardener which he enjoys. Harry has developed a relationship with the Episcopal priest in town who gave him the connection for the new job but is also attempting to reunite Harry with his wife. Harry leaves the now pregnant Ruth when he learns that his wife Janice is having their second child and attempts to restart his life with his wife and a job at his father-in-law’s auto dealership. Harry’s newfound devotion is short lived and his harsh words for his wife and departure cause her to return to drinking and leads to the accidental death of their newborn daughter by drowning. During the funeral “Rabbit” runs again attempting to find some feeling that he seems incapable of holding on to.

I understand that the book attempts to point to the emptiness of the middle-class life of the 1960s for husbands expected to be the provider for wife and children with little concern for their own happiness. Yet, Harry Angstrom was a vapid character for me. He seems completely unable to consider the consequences on anyone action and expects everyone to pick up the pieces as he walks away. Anytime things get difficult he runs and attempts to find someone new to take him in. Rather than the emptiness of the middle-class life of the 1960s I felt like John Updike left us with an empty man as his main character.

Every book is not for every reader, and when a story fails for me, I often wonder what it is that makes me not the best reader of the book, particularly a book other intelligent readers have enjoyed. For me the main character, Harry Angstrom, is an empty man-a person with very little dimension and depth who is driven by his instincts and who has no concern for the consequences of his actions on others. From the moment “Rabbit” runs and leaves his young son I lost my sympathy for him. I struggled to want to spend much time with any of the characters and the plot of a man who runs away rather than attempt to find a way through the struggles was also not appealing to me.  Others will enjoy John Updike’s writing or the way he pokes fun at religion, familial structure, and overall loss of meaning at the beginning of the 1960s. For me the primary emotion it evoked was disgust at the main character. That may be the intent as it looks at empty men like “Rabbit” but that makes for a difficult book to stomach.

Review of At Swim Two Birds by Flann O’Brien

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 9: At Swim Two Birds by Flann O’Brien (1938)

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

At Swim Two Birds was more a book to be read as a concept than as a story for me. There is a story being written within the story and we are introduced to the three characters in the story being composed: Pooka MacPhellimey a devil, John Furriskey a character who emerges from the writing of the fictional writer Dermot Trellis, and adaptations of Irish legends mainly Finn Mac Cool and Mad King Sweeney. Yet, there are significant breaks where the writer introduces the writer of this story as a college student living with his bachelor uncle, rarely attending class, drinking stout with his buddies, and laying in bed. There is a strange, disjointed nature to the novel because of this back and forth between observation of the writer/narrator reality, for example pausing to describe the color of a persons suit or attitude, and the occasional glimpses into the story of the characters. As a concept I can appreciate the attempt to transcend the boundaries of the literary genre and the walls between the artist and the art. As a story I found the narrator/writer hard to care about and I can acknowledge that has a lot to do with my own culture. I thought the poetry of Mad King Sweeney was the best part of the work, but the characters themselves felt cardboard and not well developed and the plot never held my interest.

I struggled to make it through this relatively short novel because neither the plot nor characters were compelling to me. When the book was first published it had a few very positive reviews by famous authors but generally received cool reviews in publications and sold less than 240 copies before the unsold copies were incinerated during the bombing raids of England in 1940. This is a book that the readers who loved the work kept pushing it into republication and recommending it, but it also seems to be something that many readers fail to appreciate. I obviously am in the later group as a reader. I can appreciate the concept but as a story it fails for me.

Every book is not for every reader, and when a story fails for me, I often wonder what it is that makes me not the best reader of the book, particularly a book other intelligent readers have enjoyed. As I mentioned above, the character of the writer/narrator as a lazy individual who appears to do the minimum (although he achieves good test scores at the end) rubs hard against the Texas rugged individualism, Protestant work ethic, and persistent American optimism of a child of the 1970s. There is a vast cultural gap between the depressed economy of the 1930s and the lack of opportunity of that time and the time of my youth and I know that shapes a person. I appreciate that in At Swim Two Birds the author can probably use the narrator to be self-deprecating without lapsing completely into cynicism or nihilism.

Review of Animal Farm by George Orwell

Time Magazine Top 100 Novels

Book 5: Animal Farm by George Orwell (1946)

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

Animal Farm is George Orwell’s allegorical parable that portrays the events of the Russian Revolution of 1917 by telling the story of a farm that the animals drive off their human masters and rule themselves. It is a clever little story with the crafty pig Napoleon consolidating power over the Animal Farm, and even changing the commandments of animalism as he and his pig and dog minions establish control. By the end of the story the pigs who control the Animal Farm, renamed Manor Farm by the end, are indistinguishable from the humans from the surrounding farm. It is a poignant story about the loss of history in a dictatorship that controls the narratives, and the way idyllic communities can be corrupted by their leaders.

This short novella has endured well as both a story and a political commentary. Even without a direct connection to the Russian Revolution the parable graphically illustrates the proverb that “power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” The use of animals who lack the literacy to critique the changes to the practice of animalism and the manipulation both the written records of the commandments and the revolutionary song the animals sing (the forbidding of the singing of the Beasts of England) continues to be a warning of the ability to manipulate the opinions of the population by controlling the media.