#66. "Fetch-22" by Dav Pilkey

After eight entries over three years, the "Dog Man" series is no young pup anymore. In fact, the world that the average book inhabits continues to grow both in the scope of absurdity and deeply rooted emotional catharsis. Dav Pilkey has kept his gift for making stories presented through the lens of childlike wonder, presenting worlds that both satirize the more serious trends of modern culture (in this case police procedurals and superhero comics) and find the humanity within them. In recent entries, Pilkey has had the gift of making every story ends with a crescendo of heartwarming sadness that is surprisingly effective in use. While "Fetch-22" is largely the series' silliest book in some time, it continues the trend of finding adventure on every page, filling the reader's imagination with a world of nonsense that all seem to matter by the end. This may be one of the more overwhelming entries, but it still delivers when it needs to. 

#65. "Saturday" by Ian McEwan

A lot can happen in a day. For Ian McEwan, he took it as a challenge to explore the importance of living in a post-War on Terror world, where endless war has become the backbone of history and protagonist Henry Perowne's perfect life is about to be uplifted and changed. All it takes is a stroll through the park, one protest, surgery, and the news of a family pregnancy to fill his life with a lot to think about. While this sounds like it would make for a decent novel about the little things in life filling our hearts with meaning, McEwan isn't capable of making it into an essential novel. Instead, it's a meandering one that never gets to the big revelations that it thinks it should. It's fine as far as a day in the life stories goes, but those wanting something profound need look elsewhere.

My Wishlist of 100 Books (2019 Update)

Now that Thanksgiving is over, it's time to celebrate the start of the Christmas season. For those who are looking to this blog and wondering "Thomas, what can we get you?" It only makes sense that Willett Reads would be dedicated to sharing all things that interest me in literature. Well, if you're one of those kind people who want to send me a book, here is a recommendation list of 100 books ranging from different genres and centuries. I am not too picky on quality of the book, save for my desire that the book not be filled with personal annotations. Beyond that, I hope that this list will help you prepare gifts that I not only want, but can often be found at a reasonable price. Click on to discover the list and where to send any comments regarding this list.

#64. "Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close" by Jonathan Safran Foer

 

The world of literature has been grappling with a way to discuss September 11, 2001 (The World Trade Center Attacks) for close to 20 years. While there have been certain takes that have resonated more, there has not been a definitive text yet that has rocked the zeitgeist. The closest has likely been the one with the least likely protagonist: a young boy with presumed Aspebergers searching through the five boroughs of New York for the answer to a question his deceased father left behind in the symbol of a key. What is discovered isn't so much the exploration of one child's personal grief, but an entire community coming to terms with the past both recent and long gone. The issue with Jonathan Safran Foer's text isn't its emotional ambition, but that it throws readers into the head of people both likable and downright annoying. As much as it's the story of how grief impacts us all, it also does so with an occasional cloying sense of endearment.

#63. "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" by Mark Haddon

The world of detective fiction has been crowded for centuries now with authors who try to make sense of this crazy world. The greats often have an easy time making every tale into a bestseller, finding ways to tap into our shared psyche of a good reveal. However, there have been few stories that have quite the turns of "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" by Mark Haddon, which starts with the murder of a dog and slowly comes to be an exploration of protagonist Christopher's personal life. It isn't just a story about crime, but one that Haddon seeks to make about understanding what goes on inside Christopher; an autistic in everything but actual wording. Few books convey the inner struggle of autism with as much clarity and empathetic wording than this, and it makes for one of the more entertaining crime books of the young century so far.

#62. "The Phantom of the Opera" by Gaston Leroux

The Phantom of the past 30 years isn't the one that Gaston Leroux intended when he first wrote the novel in 1911. Nowadays The Phantom is sexy, wearing a fractured opera mask to hide an acid burn. The rest of him has a swagger, embodying the physique of an attractive man with one unfortunate disability. On one hand, it works because of how tiresome applying make-up that makes him look like a demonic skull would be for every night in a big stage musical. Still, it's interesting to see how the horror has given way to camp, choosing to focus on the empathetic side of a character once revulsed because of his ugly appearance. To visit the novel a century later is to see how pop culture has (faithfully) taken the lavishness and hidden the ugliness - an irony given how the book explores and sympathizes with a man everyone sees as an ugly monster.

"The Phantom of the Opera," as a novel has a great premise in large part because it has a basis in reality. The mythology stems from a real theater (Palais Garnier in France) and a real event (a chandelier crash), creating something akin to contemporary mythology. Much like how people make up stories for why certain houses are haunted, Leroux sought to make a story about why the chandelier fell, exploring the looming presence of the "Opera Ghost" (O.G.) and how he may or may not exist. With a love story involving talented ingenue Christine Daae, the story attempts to mix historical documentation with pulp and find a way to horrify as well as sympathize with The Phantom. The results are fascinating if just because of how they differ from later adaptations. On its own, it's the myth that has the power to change public perception of Palais Garnier. It's a work of art, even if it's a bit of a silly text. 

#61. "Little Women" by Louisa May Alcott

On its surface, there's nothing exceptional about Louisa May Alcott's masterpiece "Little Women." From the opening chapter, the four March girls are stuck in middle-class life celebrating a Christmas that isn't all that frivolous. To some, it would be a moment to cry. For others, it's where the magic of the book begins to take hold. Together, the girls get together and find a way to make the most of this familial holiday. With an exploration of core common values, the story is an exploration of growing up and discovering the person that you're meant to be. With each of the four girls embodying a different archetype, the story shows how one grows and changes while finding ways to cohabitate with others. While some see it as a radical take on the feminism of the 19th century, it's easier to see it as the ultimate story of growing up, reflecting the childlike creativity that blooms into more mature themes. It's a simple story, but it only helps every reader to find themselves somewhere in the text. We are all young once, and few books embrace it with such joyful earnestness as this.