#155. "Gulliver's Travels" by Jonathan Swift

A detail that may be lost to contemporary readers is how popular travelogue stories were in previous generations. There was a real artform to making foreign lands alluring on the page, creating something for those unable to visit them and inspire their imaginations. Nobody knew if they were being honest, but the writers with the purplest of prose could manipulate and turn their mentality into the embodiment of a culture that could not be refuted. There's been endless masterpieces in that genre, though it was also something bound to be held up to ridicule like "Don Quixote" with chivalrous knights in a former time. 

Alas, here comes Jonathan Swift. As one of the great satirists of early literature, his story "Gulliver's Travels" comes as forceful as a wrecking ball to the tropes. Unlike his other works, people have argued what his larger message is here and whether the satire is commenting on a certain text. Is this a commentary on Ireland's feelings towards England's colonization habits? Is this an attack on intellectualization as being useless? It sort of is all there, but so is a scatalogical undertone that makes the text simultaneously juvenile. Is Gulliver supposed to be aspirational or a complete buffoon? Nobody knows for sure, and it's arguably what makes it one of the defining satires of its era.

#154. "The Color Purple" by Alice Walker

There's are many reasons to praise Alice Walker's "The Color Purple" that aren't apparent on the first page. Because of its writing style, the reader is introduced to the protagonist's interiority more than her surroundings. Because of this, the initial passages where she's praying to god are a bit more vague and don't fully convey the complexities of her life. Within the first page is a recounting of a sexual assault for a man who never fully disappears from the story. In some ways, it's a story of moving beyond the trauma of the past and learning to embrace life. This is a story rooted very much in early 20th century America from a perspective not often celebrated. Walker's introspection may be sidelined by practices of a segregated south, but this isn't a story of imprisonment. It's one of hope. 

#153. "Pet Semetary" by Stephen King

When asked what he thinks is among his scariest books, Stephen King has often pointed to "Pet Semetary." It's an early work in his career, and yet it's one that seems to capture his curiosity. What is it about dead pets that speaks to the master of horror? Why is this the novel among the few dozen masterpieces that has stuck in his mind? 

From a reader's standpoint, the answer becomes very clear very quickly. Before King was forced to overcomplicate his premises to keep from repeatinng, he was able to turn the simplest concepts into nightmare fuel. For most people, losing a pet is a devastating experience. Nobody wants to lose an innocent animal that brings up a sense of joy and innocence in one's lives. However, the idea of seeing the rotting corpse of that points to a mortality that is horrifying, especially for those younger and less jaded by the torments of time. What King achieves over the course of the novel is elevate the kooky premise into something that aches at the very soul of the characters as well as the reader. It's a discussion of mortality and decay that not only happens beyond the afterlife, but also in the moment.

#152. "Anna Karenina" by Leo Tolstoy

 

How does one follow a masterpiece like "War and Peace"? For Leo Tolstoy, it involved making a story nonetheless large in scope but more intimate in characterization. As one of the great works of realism, "Anna Karenina" paints a picture of two couples who seem similar at first but whose lives greatly divert as time goes on. Even the fact that the titular Anna is, by 19th century standards, reckless and unlikable, subverts expectations of this being a conventional romance novel. Instead, it's a larger commentary on Russian culture during a time where the classes were at odds with each other. Do the lavish have it better, or do the farmers who spend hours tending the fields? 

Somewhere in the text, Tolstoy adds the most unexpected element to this realist drama: spiritualism. The paralleled narrative creates a discussion of predeterminism as a larger context. Are good people destined for good lives? Will they receive good fortune simply for just behavior? The larger answer is: no. Nothing is promised in this life. For as banal as that premise may sound, Tolstoy stacks the reader's experience with theoretical moments that finds his characters navigating an incredible world full of small epiphanies. The reader may be frustrated with the larger sense of ambiguity in its theme, but that's not to say that the road there is playful and even humorous at times. For an author known for lofty tomes, "Anna Karenina" ranks among the most human tales ever conceived, and one that feels relevant even centuries later.

#151. "The Ballad of Songbird and Snakes" by Suzanne Collins

On the surface, readers wouldn't think that there's a lot of space to expand on the world of Panem. After a trilogy of books, how could anyone make The Hunger Games exciting and new, especially without beloved protagonist Katniss centering the book? In a clever sidestep, Suzanne Collins has decided to do what anyone else would do in popular franchise culture: make a prequel. This one centers around antagonist Snow as a young man experiencing the bloodbath ritual for the first time. One has to ask how an unsympathetic lead makes a difference in this world and whether audiences would be willing to go along with it, but Collins knows what she's doing. 

For as much as this is a world that doesn't necessarily encourage expansion, the additions provide a cleverness and depth that push the story into a complicated dilemma. By attempting to push beyond the nefarious behavior readers know, Collins successfully creates a sympathetic story that finds Snow able to be seen as likable, even understandable in his poor decisions. It's the type of chess game perfect for the battlefield. Every move is about survival and while Snow maybe had more advantages than half the characters in "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes," he's left with questions of keeping his soul and integrity alive. The reader knows how things evolve. Knowing how it starts brings to light the preventable in ways that make the larger series more tragic and preventable. While it's part of a familiar tradition of prequel world building, it's enough to please fans of Hunger Games as a larger universe.