1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die

These are the ones I have Read:

1800s:
1. The Red and the Black by: Stendhal
2. The Fall of the House of Usher by: Edgar Allan Poe
3. The Pit and the Pendulum by: Edgar Allan Poe
4. The Purloined Letter by: Edgar Allan Poe
5. Jane Eyre by: Charlotte Bronte
6. Wuthering Heights by: Emily Bronte
7. Moby-Dick by: Herman Melville
8. Great Expectations by: Charles Dickens
9. The Idiot by: Fyodor Dostoevsky
10. Anna Karenina by: Leo Tolstoy

1900-1920s:

11. Heart of Darkness by: Joseph Conrad
12. Howard's End by: E.M. Forster

20s:

13. Siddhartha by: Hermann Hesse
14. The Great Gatsby by: F. Scott Fitzgerald
15. The Sound and the Fury by: William Faulkner

30s:

16. Brave New World by: Aldous Huxley
17. Of Mice and Men by: John Steinbeck
18. The Grapes of Wrath by: John Steinbeck


40s:

19. Embers by: Sandor Marai
20. The Little Prince by: Antoine de Saint-Exupery
21. Cannery Row by: John Steinbeck
22. Nineteen Eighty-Four by: George Orwell


50s:

23. The 13 Clocks by: James Thurber
24. The Catcher in the Rye by: J.D. Salinger
25. Invisible Man by: Ralph Ellison
26. Lord of the Flies by: William Golding
27. Lolita by: Vladimir Nabokov
28. On the Road by: Jack Kerouac
29. The Tin Drum by: Gunter Grass

60s:

30. To Kill a Mockingbird by: Harper Lee
31. A Clockwork Orange by: Anthony Burgess
32. The Bell Jar by: Sylvia Plath
33. Cat's Cradle by: Kurt Vonnegut
34. Everything that Rises Must Converge by: Flanner O'Connor
35. The Joke by: Milan Kundera
36. One Hundred Years of Solitude by: Gabriel Garcia Marquez


70s:

37. ear and Loathing in Las Vegas by: Hunter S. Thompson
38. The Summer Book by: Tove Jansson
39. Invisible Cities by: Italo Calvino
40. Fateless by: Imre Kertesz
41. if on a winter's night a traveler by: Italo Calvino
42. The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by: Milan Kundera

80s:

43. Midnight's Children by: Salman Rushdie
44. The Names by: Don Delillo
45. The Color Purple by: Alice Walker
46. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by: Milan Kundera
47. White Noise by: Don Delillo
48. The Cider House Rules by: John Irving
49. Love in the Time of Cholera by: Gabriel Garcia Marquez
50. Reasons to Live by: Amy Hempel
51. The Satanic Verses by: Salman Rushdie
52. A Prayer for Owen Meany by: John Irving
53. The Temple of My Familiar by: Alice Walker
54. Remains of the Day by: Kazuo Ishiguro

90s:

55. Possessing the Secret of Joy by: Alice Walker
56. The Virgin Suicides by: Jeffrey Eugenides
57. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by: Haruki Murakami
58. Underworld by:Don Delillo
59. The Poisonwood Bible by: Barbara Kingsolver
60. Elementary Particles by: Michel Houellebecq
61. Sputnik Sweetheart by: Haruki Murakami
62. The Ground Beneath her Feet by: Salman Rushdie


2000s:

63. House of Leaves by: Mark Z. Danielewski
64. After the Quake by: Haruki Murakami
65. White Teeth by: Zadie Smith
66. Life of Pi by: Yann Martel
67. Choke by: Chuck Palahniuk
68. Antonement by: Ian McEwan
69. Kafka on the Shore by: Haruki Murakami
70. Everything is Illuminated by: Jonathan Safran Foer
71. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by: Mark Haddon
72. Cloud Atlas by: David Mitchell
73. On Beauty by: Zadie Smith
74. Never Let Me Go by: Kazuo Ishiguro

74/1001

I have a LOT of reading to do!

From In This Sense, Beyond

"Better to think, the descent before me is a stranger's.
Its ache routing a body I do not know. Its nos
formed by lips never parted. Better to let
the mind feel the best it can and shatter
the heart, its recycling machinery.
Better to have all that gray matter act,
to have it call up coherence
out of some lobe in the left brain. Compassion again
sends my hand to the heat and sweat of this forehead,
again bends my torso over this torso, keeping it
nameless, refusing. For above all, I know to desire


sweetness:


Let the mouth be fitted to earth, concede gracefully,
the inevitable incorporating compelled. Disentangle
from all brooding, sidestep this wilderness preceding Amen."
-Claudia Rankine

"Girl Sailor"
The gutter may profess its love,Then follow it with hesitation,But there are just so many ofYou out there for rent

A stronger girl would shake this off in flight,And never give it more than a frowning hour,But you have let your heart decide,Loss has conquered you,

You've won one too many fights,Wearing many hats every time,But you wont win here tonight,
You've made it through the direst of straits alright,Can you help it if plain love now seems less interesting?You haven't changed an ounce in my eyes,And I cannot lecture you,

And does anything I say seem relevant at all?You've been at the helm since you were just five,While I cannot claim to be more than a passenger,

But, you've won one too many fights,Wearing all of your clothes at the same time,Let the good times end tonight,Oh girl, sail her, don't sink her,This time,

Just a moment or two from now,Not a mind will retain even a trace,Of the thoughts that I struggled to tellAnd how our stack of cards just fell,

So settle this once and for all,The light no longer shows the cracks around my door,And I have no lantern to light your way home tonight,

You are not some saint who's above,Giving someone a stroll through the flowers,You've got so much more to dream of,Oh girl, sail her, don't sink her,This time,This time,This time.


On a different note, Hello to Becky out there in flight attendant school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We miss you here in Athens. I hope everything is going well if you are reading this. I love you.

I have so much to read before school starts. Right now, I am working on Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto. If you like Murkami you would love Yoshimoto. Very interesting stuff. Well, I am gathering up a list so long I might as well just stop communicating with the outside world altogether.

bye for now,
jessica

Poems that I Like that were Written by Adam Zagajewski

Sunrise Over Cassis

"In the semi-darkness white buildings loom, not fully
formulated, and beside them, the gray vineyards, the quiet before
dawn;
Judas counts his silver coins, but olive trees contorted
in wild prayer enter the earth ever more deeply.
Where is the sun! But it's still cold
and a humble landscape spreads around us;
the stars have gone and priests sleep tight, birds aren't allowed
to sing in August and only now and then one
stammers like a lazy boy in high school Latin.
It's four a.m. and despair lives in so many houses.
This is the time when sad philosophers with narrow faces
compose their jaded aphorisms and worn conductors,
who'd brought Bruckner and Mahler back to life that evening,
drift off to sleep unwilling, unapplauded, and whores go home
to their shabby apartments.
We ask that the vineyards,
gray as if coated with volcanic ash, be given life,
and that the great, distant cities awaken from their apathy
and I ask not to confuse freedom with chaos
and to regain the faith that unites
things seen and unseen but doesn't lull the heart.
Beneath us the sea turns blue and the horizon's line
grows ever finer, like a slender fillet
that embraces, lovingly and firmly, our turning planet,
and we see fishing boats rock trustfully like gulls
upon the deep, blue waters and a moment later
the sun's crimson disc emerges from a half circle of hills
and returns the gift of light."



There are more but I am tired.

This was one of my most interesting experiences on the Western Europe tour. The gypsy festival at Les Saintes Maries de la Mere in France. I am somewhere in that crowd. After about 3 hours in the Mediterranean, swimming about, the patron saint of the gypsies, a statue portraying a black madonna was carried into the sea. Benedek and others were on the rocks to the right, watching and taking pictures. We were a little excited after all the waiting in the water, it was freezing! There were gypsies, hippies, naked babies, photographers, and about a dozen American kids trying not to get trampled by horses.

Even if you are not religious in any way, something like this with so many people affects you. It was truly amazing.

"Every year on May 25th gypsies from all around Europe gather at Les Saintes Maries de la Mer to celebrate the anniversary of Magdalene’s arrival there. The crypt of the local chapel houses a "Black Madonna" known as Sara, a small statue representing a Hindu-type girl of olive complexion with gentle, consoling brown eyes. Sara is traditionally the name of the daughter of Jesus and Mary Magdelene."

She was brought in alongside 6 giant horses. Everyone went nuts, taking pictures and trying to touch her because of her healing powers. The horses all crapped at once, but there really was a sense of urgency and electricity. It was strange to be around all those people who really had a belief in this idol. I didn't get to touch the statue, but we followed it back to the church and then...

there were the Gypsy Kings.

I wish I remember more of the history of this particular idol, but of course the details escape me. Does anyone remember the story of how the 2 Mary's arrived there in France??

It was a very beautiful ritual and there was really great music and partying afterward. It happens every year, so someday I'll go back. I would like to tell more stories about my trip, because I really did have some awesome experiences, I just need to record them.
love,

jessica

Just some notes....

I have just figured out this entire book from one chapter. I love how this happened. Normally I would just say that this is a book about a boy who decides to live in the trees. He lives there, has adventures, and never sets foot on earth again.

But, all of a sudden, Calvino writes this: "And nothing any longer gave him full contentment, neither hunting, fleeting affairs nor books. He himself did not know what he wanted; taken by one of these moods, he would clamber quickly over the tenderest and most fragile boughs as if searching for other trees growing still hgihter, so as to climb those too."

The Baron sometimes questions whether or not he wants to stay in the trees. Is he stubborn? I don't think so, I think it's the same as questioning your own place in life: wondering whether everything that gives your life meaning is worth the sacrifices you make in order to continue holding on to that identity. The baron still has connections with the earth. He still has connections with others on the ground. He writes a treatise on arboreal living. It is also interesting that we learn about the Baron through the eyes of his brother, who doesn't seem to be jealous and doesn't want to join Cosimo in the trees, but is happy to report without any judgement. I don't know, I want to do some research of critics of Calvino... plus this novel is from 1959. Calvino is a master.

I really recommend everything he has ever written...especially if on a winter's night a traveler.

Many Things I Want

I wonder what kind of mood one has to be in to start wanting to read a lot of poetry all of a sudden without a whole lot of previous interest. Maybe because I want to also read so many novels all at once and aside from combusting, i'm just automatically scaling it down so my brain will keep pumping. that's right, my brain pumps. my heart just kind of hangs out.
the above image and the below image are from this url: http://kimbooktu.wordpress.com/
it's a way cool website with booky things. or: what I spend ALL my time looking at.

Isn't this the coolest? It is over 5,000 Euro. So I can't have one. But I want to sit in my bookshelf!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Excuse me, I am going to go sit in my bookshelf.
Andrew keeps saying I can make my own. Can anyone out there make one for me?????????????????????????

Lastly, here is an example of the puppy I want...
this is the money shot...
when i am wayrich, i am going to get a puppy just like this.
you know how there are libraries for people like me who cannot go out and buy books whenever I want? I use the library all the time.
there needs to be a place where I can check out a puppy. or at least go hug one for a while.
thats all for now
love, jessica