#316 Musings Beyond the Bunker (Monday April 4)
Good morning,
GREAT BOOKS THROUGH THE DECADES
The other day I was reading a review of Chuck Klosterman’s new book, The Nineties: A Book. Its title, premise, structure and objective all are reminiscent of the David Halberstam classic The Fifties.
This got me thinking of whether there were particular books coming out of these decades that are particularly evocative of, or defining of, the era. Each week in April and May, I’ll share my choices of the best books of the decade. Sometime in the mix will choices for the best histories of these decades.
Some of the books paint pictures of dystopias that reflect the anxieties of the then-moment, others are indicative of movements of the time (feminism, sexuality, race). And some just “feel” like they are of that era. I confess to having consulted a few “best of” lists in compiling this list. The nearly inviolable rule is that I’ve read them all (which means that authors like Proust are not included and Gravity’s Rainbow is out, because I wasn’t smart enough or patient enough to make it through). An exception that is included, however, is Infinite Jest, because two of the people I respect most in the world have told me I must read it some day.
Here, then, are my choices, for the 1940s. It was a time of brutal genocide and warfare in Europe, followed by the victory of the democracies—yet a time of existential dread and fear of a dystopian future. It was a time when humanity and the meaning of life were questioned by philosophers and authors like Sartre and Camus and people like Viktor Frankl argued for hope.
THE FORTIES
Nineteen Eighty Four, by George Orwell. Positively “Orwellian,” the story of a post-modern world controlled by “big brother,” video screens, “new speak”—wait, maybe this belongs in the list of for the 2020s…
The Stranger, by Albert Camus. Disconnection, indifference, absurdity, and lack of agency. It begins, “Mother died today Or, maybe yesterday: I can’t be sure…” One of the few authors deserving of two places on this list…
For Whom the Bell Tolls, by Ernest Hemingway. Written when much of the world was at war. Violence in the Spanish Civil War, romance, and the eventual hatred of violence.
Animal Farm, by George Orwell. Some pigs are more equal than others. One of the greatest of the allegorical novels of anthropomorphism (just a little deeper than Charlotte’s Web and Stuart Little!).
All the King’s Men, by Robert Penn Warren. The Pulitzer Prize winner that imagines “Kingfish”—loosely based on Huey Long—and his hold on Depression era Southern politics. A warning for the ages on the dangers of populist leaders.
The Plague, by Albert Camus. To my mind, the greatest book of the war and post-war period, perhaps even of the century. The plague may be simply a plague or a metaphor for the Nazi occupation. The book is filled with powerful moments, exquisitely drawn sentences, and constant meditations on humanity. The Plague arrives, devastating and indiscriminate in its path of destruction. How people deal with it, both together and in isolation, is a story of survival in a world we can’t control.
Native Son, by Richard Wright. It doesn’t get more depressing than this. Hatred and violence laid bare. Yes, the crimes were unforgiveable, but the underlying causes are contributors. Not as indiscriminate in violende as Helter Skelter but no less jarring.
The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. The story of the alien and the little prince and a cogitation on the world—for children.
Goodnight Moon, by Margaret Wise Brown. It just feels like it was written in simpler times. I think I’ve read it aloud hundreds of times.
The Lottery and Other Stories, by Shirley Jackson. Hunger Games, Squid Games, The Giver—they all began here. Kantian ethics versus consequentialism. Can innocents be sacrificed for the common good?
The Diary of a Young Girl, by Anne Frank. Not fiction; but can’t be left out of a picture of the horrors of war, genocide, and a life stolen.
The Common Sense Book of Baby and Child Care, by Benjamin Spock. Long before What to Expect When You’re Expecting. I include this because of its ubiquity in the 40s through the 70s amongst those who raised us. Also because the good doctor’s prescriptions didn’t always resonate with Bill Sonnenberg, who threatened to write his own book: “a pox on Spock.”
Man’s Search for Meaning, by Viktor Frankl. Written by someone who survived the concentration camps with, against all odds, a positive outlook. You want to find meaning, against all odds? Read this.
Have a great day,
Glenn
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