Good morning,
Last week, I covered my choices of the “best books” from the Forties. This week, it’s the Fifties (spoiler alert: next Tuesday will be the Sixties!). My choices include both my favorite books and cultural bell weathers.
The literature of the Fifties includes novels that spoke to the McCarthy era, provided perspective on the post-World War II era, dealt with the emerging sexual equality and racial justice movements, and a zeitgeist of coming to grips with the atomic age, the seemingly limitless potential of Pax Americana, the early days of Cold War paranoia and the fear of nuclear annihilation.
THE FIFTIES
Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger. A classic; adolescence in all its confusion, self-absorption and alienation; although I think Franny and Zooey and Raise High the Roofbeams, Carpenters may be even better.
Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison. This line few lines are enough to recommend it: "I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids – and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me…”
Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury. Continuing the warnings of other dystopias from the 40s. How does a government control the minds of the people? Simple. Get rid of the books. The story and the message seem particularly prescient and relevant today.
On the Road, by Jack Kerouac. The “beat generation,” whose alienation, dis-connectedness and frustration seemed like ancient history from the perspective of the 70s, but it was only just a little while earlier. “It changed my life as it changed everyone else’s,” noted Bob Dylan
Notes of a Native Son, by James Baldwin. A series of essays by Baldwin, originally published in periodicals, covering a variety of subjects from rents in Harlem, to an analysis of Uncle Tom’s Cabin, jazz and Blacks in France.
The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemmingway. He considered it his greatest writing saying it is “the best I can write for all my life.”
The Cat in the Hat, by Theodore Geisel (Dr. Seuss). While enjoyed by most of us in the 60s, it comes from the 50s. The clever phrases, the doggerel, the absurdity of it, One Fish, Two Fish, Go Dog Go!, Green Eggs and Ham and their ilk were the “literature” of 60s and 70s childhoods. I can still hear my mother’s voice reading these “classics.”
The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien. It brought fantasy fiction and allegory into the mainstream, creating a strange world that animates everything from Game of Thrones to Harry Potter to The Avengers and more.
Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger. A classic; adolescence in all its confusion, self-absorption and alienation; although I wonder whether Franny and Zooey and Raise High the Roofbeams, Carpenters are even better.
Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison. This line is enough to recommend it: "I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids – and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me…”
Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury. Continuing the warnings of other dystopias from the 40s. It seems particularly prescient and relevant today. The Martian Chronicles and The Illustrated Man probably also belong.
On the Road, by Jack Kerouac. The “beat generation,” whose alienation, dis-connectedness and frustration seemed like ancient history from the perspective of the 70s, but it was only just a little while earlier. “It changed my life as it changed everyone else’s,” noted Bob Dylan
Notes of a Native Son, by James Baldwin. A collection of James Baldwin’s essays on racism and the Black experience in America and Europe. Travels in the Jim Crow South, comparisons to being Black in France, taking Harriet Beecher Stowe to account.
The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemingway. He considered it his greatest writing saying it is “the best I can write for all my life.”
The Cat in the Hat, by Theodore Geisel (Dr. Seuss). While enjoyed by most of us in the 60s, it comes from the 50s. The clever phrases, the doggerel, the absurdity of it, One Fish, Two Fish, Go Dog Go!, Green Eggs and Ham and their ilk were the “literature” of 60s and 70s childhoods. I can still hear my mother’s voice reading these “classics.”
The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien. It brought fantasy fiction and allegory into the mainstream and its creation of a society and heroes animates everything from Game of Thrones to The Avengers and so much more.
Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand. Spawned a whole generation of libertarians with little regard for the greater good of society. Sounded good for about a week; then proved to be too harsh and simplistic a philosophy to work. Sadly, it seems like the robber barons of Silicon Valley may have read this a few too many times. Rand can be cited by any self-centered narcissist as providing justification for almost any predatory action.
Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov. Never read it. Creepy idea. But it’s a seminal work, I suppose…
Hawaii, by James Michener. I remember seeing my mother reading this. Michener made a career of the deep history and generations-long history of families and towns in particular areas, including Alaska, The Covenant, and Texas. The best was Centennial, the story of the “Centennial State” of Colorado, beginning with early in geological time (as is Michener’s signature start) through the modern day. It was made into one of the earliest of successful mini-series.
The Caine Mutiny, by Herman Wouk. Great. A play and movie gave life to this remarkable book. Wouk wrote the definitive novels of men in combat in WWII, including Winds of War and War and Remembrance.
The Joy of Cooking, by Erma S. Rombauer. Yes, its first edition came out in the 30s and it has gone through multiple editions. But for some reason, I think the move from a basic cooking style primarily for sustenance (with nods to personal ethnic specialties) being expanded to include cooking and eating as experiential really fits in the 1950s and 1960s. Plus it was not until the editions of the 1950s and 1960s that the book began to embrace healthy eating, whole grains and fresh ingredients.
Have a great day,
Glenn
Lolita is an outstanding book, amazing that English was not Nabokov’s first language. Best to read with annotations, or secondary sources. It’s been over 40 years for me, time for another go.
Truman Capote said that Jack Kerouac was an excellent typist.
I recall thinking that On the Road was not a great book, it was an excellent bellwether.