“Moby-Dick,” by Herman Melville
“Moby-Dick” was written in a cozy study with original fixtures in a beautiful house in the Berkshires—which is just spectacular at this time of year—by a talented writer and devoted husband and father named Herman Melville (who might have been gay, and that’s O.K.!). “Moby-Dick” is about a whale. This is good news because the ocean, a whale’s habitat, is majestic and powerful, and as we stand at its edge we are able to experience both transcendence and humility, which is such a gift.
The characters are as rollicking and fun as the ocean setting. The narrator, Ishmael, is just a really good guy, while Ahab, a ship’s captain, allows us to remember that anger happens when we don’t process our sadness, which is every bit as precious as our joy. Ultimately, “Moby-Dick” is a gripping story about a diverse group of men putting aside their differences to create lifelong friendships on a hand-crafted sailboat.
“Fifty Shades of Grey,” by E. L. James
At first it seemed like the prose in this book would not allow me to give it the sort of positive review I am forever hankering to write. But then I noticed something. I noticed that when you see a woman reading this book and you’re kind of wondering if she’s looking at you, or if she might want to go to coffee or even for dinner—or even more!—you can stop wondering, because the answer to all is a resounding yes. If she’s holding this book you just automatically know that she is someone who is “down for anything,” or, as my more literary friends across the pond might say, “a right goer.” So this book is not only a fun read but also a great time-saver.
“Crime and Punishment,” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
“Crime and Punishment” takes place in St. Petersburg. Right off the bat, having the novel set here makes you feel like you can do anything, because, in 1919, St. Petersburg was re-named Leningrad, but in 1991 it was re-named St. Petersburg, which was really a glorious comeback.
If St. Petersburg is the Little Engine That Could of city names, then the main character, Raskolnikov, is the Little Engine That Could of elderly pawnbroker murderers. No one can deny that he is a good example of both what you can achieve when you put your mind to something and, conversely, what happens when someone else puts their mind to punishing you for putting your mind to something.
Dostoyevsky wrote the book to get out of debt, and it sold millions and millions of copies, so in addition to being a good book it was very useful to the writer. What kind of person would not say “kudos” to that?
“Killing Lincoln,” by Bill O’Reilly and Martin Dugard
Bill O’Reilly taught high-school history back in the seventies, when high-school history was in its heyday, so, right away, I was optimistic. The first sentence, a “Note to Readers,” is very attention-getting: “The story you are about to read is true and truly shocking.” After that, I started to get a little lost, and was then distracted by a fly, which I managed to swat at and kill with the book. Then I killed another fly with it. What a great book!
The same authors have written a new book, “Killing Jesus,” and I can’t wait to get my hands on a copy.
“The First Phone Call From Heaven,” by Mitch Albom
I don’t know if I can describe the disappointment and betrayal I wrestled with when, halfway through Albom’s riveting account of people receiving phone calls from Heaven, it dawned on me that I was reading fiction. These feelings gave way to fury and then to despair, which, as you can imagine, was compounded by the realization that, having suddenly ceased to enjoy this book, I would not be able to review it.
Then the strangest thing happened. My phone rang. I answered it. It was God, and He said to me, “Hello. I want to tell you that your work, writing positive book reviews? Well. It is not only your work. It is My work. By the way, this is probably the fourth or fifth phone call from Heaven.” I woke up with my head resting on my advance copy of “The First Phone Call From Heaven.” A thin stream of drool underlined the word “heaven.” Sure, it was only a dream. But it was a dream that let me know that what I was doing mattered, a dream that I never would have had without reading (half of) this book, which, naturally, I can now endorse without reservation.
Photograph by Kurt Hutton/Picture Post/Getty.
