Ever since I saw a debate where Ronald Reagan was asked what book he would bring to a desert island, I have wondered the same question, from time to time (ironically often while putting off readings for school that I should be doing). I actually think it’s a good question, one that reveals a striking amount about the person it’s asked to.
Now for my part, I don’t agree with Ronald Reagan’s answer, which was the Bible. Personally, although scripture is fun and all, on a desert island I really would prefer lighter reading material. Although, having said that, would I? being alone, possibly without the hope of rescue, might put me in a more philosophical mood than I have previously possessed. Perhaps I will find it the perfect time to contemplate Foucault’s Power/Knowledge, the work of those French existentialists, or maybe even something by this Kirkegaard fellow I’ve been hearing so much about.
Of course, I might then want to critique those authors, and without paper and a pen, all of my observations would come to naught. And even if I did, without someone to critique my own work, what would it accomplish? So, no, I don’t believe it will be the philosophy books for me.
Honestly, I think my best bet would be fiction. It couldn’t be fantasy of course. I would require a three book minimum in order to bring anything fantasy related, and, at that point, the question loses any of its power. It also couldn’t be science fiction, because…well apart from Dune, cyberpunk, and Philip K. Dick, most of it is fairly unreadable.
In terms of general fiction, I’m also a little stumped. While there are plenty of novels here that would fill the time and be presumably entertaining time and again, such as War and Peace, Infinite Jest, Blood Meridian, and the often overlooked and underrated With Fire and Sword, a challenge immediately arises when I try to pick a favorite. I have several favorites, but if I picked any one of those, I feel that I would immediately regret taking one over the other. For instance, how am I to compare Tolstoy to Sienkiewicz without both novels? Alright, maybe you’d be more worried about food and shelter, but I’m weird like this. In face, I would probably die of inadequate precautions mere moments after I finished my book of choice, so this might as well be, “what would you read before you die?”
But, I think I’ve narrowed it down, though. There are probably six books I would have an incredibly hard time choosing between. The first is Michael Chabon’s Wonder Boys, a book that I have quoted before and will likely return to, so I’ll leave it there.
The next is the Essential Ellison, a collection of short fiction by, perhaps, my favorite author, which includes the exquisite piece, Jefty is Five, a speculative fiction. It was this story that I once, very lamely, attempted to adapt into a play for a one-act for my school. I’m actually quite glad it failed, because I fear even a brief mention of it would have the litigious author battering down my door to demand compensation. And while that seems narcissistic, I should point out this is the same man who sued James Cameron because of fairly unsubstantiated rumors about Terminator being inspired by two of his teleplays. Oh, and he sent a copy of every award he every won to a professor who told him, his writing sucked. Not really, someone whose bad side I’d like to be on. Or on their radar.
There would then be, for me, the obligatory Stephen King book, in this case Bag of Bones. I consider to be his best, a terrific combination of that small new England town setting, with a dark history that hides in plain view, the by turns terrifying and wondrous in its events. Of course, to those of you that have never read a Stephen King book, this description might seem strange. After all, isn’t the only thing they’re good for is making movies that range from abysmal (Silver Bullet) to terrific (The Shinning, Shawshank Redemption, Stand by Me, and Misery, depending on who you ask, of course)? No, they’re not. They’re also for terrible, terrible, mini-series. And don’t you forget it. Oh, and quite a few of them are excellent, underrated books.
Then, there would be The Corrections, a novel I am sometimes ashamed to have read, especially when someone says “oh, yeah, wasn’t that Oprah book club book?” Well for your information, it was. It was also a PEN award and Pulitzer Prize finalist AND a national book award winner. It doesn’t just have one honor to its credit. Okay, so that seems like overreaction and…it probably is, but that’s never stopped me before. The reason I’d bring it, is simple, it reminds me of family. Warm, thanksgivings spent, bickering and arguing and bringing up tons of nasty old and festering wounds. Ah, family. What? Your family isn’t like that? You don’t have uncles who cuss you out while playing cards cause you were beating him? Weirdos.
And now we’re in the home stretch, thank god. Number two on this non-sequential count down is The Insanity Defense, the collected prose of Woody Allen. (By the way, If you want a nice drinking game, with a highly caffeinated substance, try taking a shot whenever I mention Woody Allen. This will result in you being wired and actually able to make it through more than one of my posts). I don’t really think I need to explain this one. Hilarious non sequitur stories that always knock me out. This results in a fair few black eyes and bruises, but I try to keep that on the down low.
Now, drum roll please, I give you L.A. Confidential. It is not only the best noir novel that I’ve ever read, and I have read far more than I would care to admit. It is also the only noir book that I’ve ever read multiple times and enjoyed it the same amount each go around. It’s a slick, well-constructed thriller that always entertains me. And that is something I will undoubtedly be talking to me therapist about in twenty years. It’s also proably the book I would most like to be stranded with, if only for its sheer entertainment value.
Well, this was certainly an overly long and indulgent post. But don’t worry. I hear they’re giving refunds on time now.
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