The Guardian’s 1000 books list, first instalment: Love. As usual, bold means I’ve read it, italic means I’ve started it, struck through means I hated it.

Henri Alain-Fournier, Le Grand Meaulnes (1913)
Layla al-Juhani, Jahiliyya (2006)
Latifa al-Zayyat, al-Bab al-Maftouh (1960)
Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis, Dom Casmurro (1899)
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey (1817)
Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility (1811)
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (1813)
Jane Austen, Mansfield Park (1814)
Jane Austen, Emma (1815)
Jane Austen, Persuasion (1817)
James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room (1957)
Djuna Barnes, Nightwood (1936)
Giorgio Bassani, The Garden of the Finzi-Continis (1962)
HE Bates, Love for Lydia (1952)
Rita Mae Brown, Rubyfruit Jungle (1973)
Saul Bellow, More Die of Heartbreak (1987)
RD Blackmore, Lorna Doone (1869)
Elizabeth Bowen, The Death of the Heart (1938)
Elizabeth Bowen, The Heat of the Day (1948)
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (1847)
Charlotte Brontë, Villette (1853)
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights (1847)
Anita Brookner, Look at Me (1983)
AS Byatt, Possession (1990)
Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1958)
Peter Carey, Oscar and Lucinda (1988)
JL Carr, A Month in the Country (1980)
Willa Cather, My Ántonia (1918)
Willa Cather, A Lost Lady (1923)
Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette, Claudine à l’école (1900)
Sidone-Gabrille Colette, Chéri (1920)
Joseph Conrad, Victory: An Island Tale (1915)
Madame de Lafayette, The Princess of Clèves (1678)
Daphne du Maurier, The Parasites (1949)
Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca (1938)
Marguerite Duras, The Lover (1984)
George Eliot, Adam Bede (1859)
George Eliot, Daniel Deronda (1876)
George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss (1860)
Enayat el-Zayyat, Al-Hubb w’al-Samt (1967)
Jeffrey Eugenides, The Virgin Suicides (1993)
F Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)
F Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night (1934)
Penelope Fitzgerald, The Blue Flower (1995)
Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary (1856)
Ford Madox Ford, The Good Soldier (1915)
EM Forster, A Room With a View (1908)
John Fowles, The French Lieutenant’s Woman (1969)
Paul Gallico, The Snow Goose (1941)
Elizabeth Gaskell, Ruth (1853)
André Gide, Strait Is the Gate (1909)
Lewis Grassic Gibbon, Sunset Song (1932)
Johann Wolfgang Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther (1774)
Henry Green, Living (1929)
Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (1951)
Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness (1928)
Thomas Hardy, Far from the Madding Crowd (1874)
Thomas Hardy, Jude the Obscure (1895)
Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D’Urbervilles (1891)
Thomas Hardy, The Woodlanders (1887)
LP Hartley, The Go-Between (1953)
Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter (1850)
Shirley Hazzard, The Transit of Venus (1980)
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (1929)
Georgette Heyer, The Infamous Army (1937)
Georgette Heyer, Regency Buck (1935)
Alan Hollinghurst, The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)
WH Hudson, Green Mansions: A Romance of the Tropical Forest (1904)
Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937)
Aldous Huxley, Crome Yellow (1921)
Kazuo Ishiguro, The Remains of the Day (1989)
Henry James, Portrait of a Lady (1881)
Henry James, The Wings of the Dove (1902)
Elfriede Jelinek, The Piano Teacher (1983)
Yasunari Kawabata, Beauty and Sadness (1964)
MM Kaye, The Far Pavilions (1978)
Nikos Kazantzakis, Zorba the Greek (1946)
Pamela Kent, Moon over Africa (1955)
Colette Khoury, Ayyam Ma’ah (1959)
Milan Kundera, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting (1978)
Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1982)
Pierre-Ambroise-François Choderlos de Laclos, Les Liaisons Dangereuses (1782)
DH Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover (1960)
DH Lawrence, The Rainbow (1915)
DH Lawrence, Women in Love (1920)
Rosamond Lehmann, The Echoing Grove (1953)
Rosamond Lehmann, The Weather in the Streets (1936)
Anita Loos, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1925)
Audre Lorde, Zami (1982)
Alison Lurie, Foreign Affairs (1984)
Amin Maalouf, Samarkand (1989)
Naguib Mahfouz, Cairo trilogy (1956-57)
Thomas Mann, Death in Venice (1912)
Dacia Maraini, The Silent Duchess (1990)
Javier Marías, A Heart So White (1992)
Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera (1985)
Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage (1915)
William Maxwell, So Long, See You Tomorrow (1980)
Carson McCullers, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (1940)
Ian McEwan, Atonement (2001)
Ian McEwan, The Child in Time (1987)
George Meredith, The Egoist (1879)
Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer (1934)
Isabel Miller, Patience and Sarah (1969)
Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind (1936)
Nancy Mitford, The Pursuit of Love (1945)
Nancy Mitford, Love in a Cold Climate (1949)
Elsa Morante, Arturo’s Island: A Novel (1957)
Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (1987)
Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (1955)
RK Narayan, The Painter of Signs (1976)
Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus (1978)
Cees Nooteboom, All Souls Day (1999)
Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient (1992)
Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago (1957)
Abbé Prévost, Manon Lescaut (1731)
Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea (1966)
Henry Handel Richardson, Maurice Guest (1908)
Samuel Richardson, Pamela (1740)
Samuel Richardson, Clarissa (1748)
Marilynne Robinson, Gilead (2004)
Françoise Sagan, Bonjour Tristesse (1954)
Kurban Said, Ali and Nino (1928)
James Salter, A Sport and a Pastime (1967)
Bernhard Schlink, The Reader (1995)
Aara Seale, The Reluctant Orphan (1947)
Erich Segal, Love Story (1970)
Isaac Bashevis Singer, Enemies, a Love Story (1972)
Elizabeth Smart, At Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept (1945)
Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle (1948)
Ahdaf Soueif, The Map of Love (1999)
Jacqueline Susann, Valley of the Dolls (1966)
Graham Swift, Waterland (1983)
Junichiro Tanizaki, Diary of a Mad Old Man (1961)
Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (1877)
Rose Tremain, Music and Silence (1999)
Ivan Turgenev, First Love (1860)
Anne Tyler, Breathing Lessons (1988)
Anne Tyler, The Accidental Tourist (1985)
Sarah Waters, The Night Watch (2006)
Charles Webb, The Graduate (1963)
Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence (1920)
Jeanette Winterson, The Passion (1987)
Mrs Henry Wood, East Lynne (1861)
Richard Yates, Revolutionary Road (1961)

My total: 25 out of 145, and another two started but not finished.

I’ve linked to my reviews where I have written them. The great book on the list that none of you has read is Ali and Nino by Kurban Said, the amazing (and mercifully succinct) love story of the southern Caucasus during the first world war.

I see that the Guardian has launched a new 1000 great novels series. Irritatingly, the full list isn’t yet on-line, but I take this opportunity to go through the list of 1001 books you must read before you die, at least according to Peter Boxall. As usual, bold means I’ve read it (with link to review if there is on), italic means started but didn’t finish, struck through means I hated it. The canonical version of this list does the books in chronological order of publication, but I have listed them here alphabetically by author. (As far as I can; got a bit confused with some of the compound surnames.)

The Life of Lazarillo de Tormes
The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter
The Thousand and One Nights
Arrow of God, by Chinua Achebe
Things Fall Apart, by Chinua Achebe
Blood and Guts in High School, by Kathy Acker
Hawksmoor, by Peter Ackroyd
Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, by Douglas Adams
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams
Half of a Yellow Sun, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
In The Heart of the Seas, by Shmuel Yosef Agnon
The Regent’s Wife, by Leopoldo Alas
Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott
Broad and Alien is the World, by Ciro Alegria
The Man With the Golden Arm, by Nelson Algren
Fantômas, by Marcel Allain
Of Love and Shadows, by Isabel Allende
The House of the Spirits, by Isabel Allende
Gabriela, Clove and Cinnamon, by Jorge Amado
Tent of Miracles, by Jorge Amado
Cause for Alarm, by Eric Ambler
Lucky Jim, by Kingsley Amis
The Old Devils, by Kingsley Amis
London Fields, by Martin Amis
Money: A Suicide Note, by Martin Amis
I’m Not Scared, by Niccolo Ammaniti
Untouchable, by Mulk Raj Anand
The Commandant, by Jessica Anderson
Bosnian Chronicle, by Ivo Andrić
The Bridge on the Drina, by Ivo Andrić
Ashes and Diamonds, by Jerzy Andrzejewski
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou
Fado Alexandrino, by Antonio Lobo Antunes
The Golden Ass, by Lucius Apuleius
The Bells of Basel, by Louis Aragon
Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus, by John Arbuthnot
Before Night Falls, by Reinaldo Arenas
Deep Rivers, by Jose Maria Arguedas
The Twilight Years, by Sawako Ariyoshi
The Green Hat, by Michael Arlen
Foundation, by Isaac Asimov
I, Robot, by Isaac Asimov
Alias Grace, by Margaret Atwood
Surfacing, by Margaret Atwood
The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood
Obabakoak, by Bernardo Atxaga
Emma, by Jane Austen
Mansfield Park, by Jane Austen
Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen
Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen
Moon Palace, by Paul Auster
The Music of Chance, by Paul Auster
The New York Trilogy, by Paul Auster
The Underdogs, by Mariano Azuela
So Long a Letter, by Mariama Ba
Giovanni’s Room, by James Baldwin
Go Tell It on the Mountain, by James Baldwin
Crash, by J.G. Ballard
Empire of the Sun, by J.G. Ballard
The Crow Road, by Iain Banks
The Wasp Factory, by Iain Banks
The Sea, by John Banville
The Inferno, by Henri Barbusse
Under Fire, by Henri Barbusse
Silk, by Alessandro Baricco
Regeneration, by Pat Barker
The Ghost Road, by Pat Barker
Nightwood, by Djuna Barnes
Flaubert’s Parrot, by Julian Barnes
Giles Goat-Boy, by John Barth
The Floating Opera, by John Barth
The Dead Father, by Donald Barthelme
Alamut, by Vladimir Bartol
The Garden of the Finzi-Continis, by Giorgio Bassani
Blue of Noon, by Georges Bataille
Story of the Eye, by Georges Bataille
The Abbot C, by Georges Bataille
The Manors of Ulloa, by Emilia Pardo Bazan
Jacob the Liar, by Jurek Becker
Malone Dies, by Samuel Beckett
Molloy, by Samuel Beckett
Murphy, by Samuel Beckett
Vathek, by William Thomas Beckford
Borstal Boy, by Brendan Behan
Oroonoko, by Aphra Behn
Dangling Man, by Saul Bellow
Herzog, by Saul Bellow
Humboldt’s Gift, by Saul Bellow
The Old Wives’ Tale, by Arnold Bennett
G, by John Berger
Under Satan’s Sun, by Georges Bernanos
Correction, by Thomas Bernhard
Extinction, by Thomas Bernhard
Wittgenstein’s Nephew, by Thomas Bernhard
Death Sentence, by Maurice Blanchot
2666, by Roberto Bolano
Savage Detectives, by Roberto Bolano
Billiards at Half-Past Nine, by Heinrich Böll
Group Portrait With Lady, by Heinrich Böll
The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum, by Heinrich Böll
Labyrinths, by Jorge Luis Borges
This Way for the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen, by Tadeusz Borowski
Eva Trout, by Elizabeth Bowen
The Heat of the Day, by Elizabeth Bowen
To the North, by Elizabeth Bowen
World’s End, by T. Coraghessan Boyle
In Watermelon Sugar, by Richard Brautigan
Willard and His Bowling Trophies, by Richard Brautigan
Arcanum 17, by André Breton
Nadja, by André Breton
A Dry White Season, by Andre Brink
Testament of Youth, by Vera Brittain
The Death of Virgil, by Hermann Broch
The Guiltless, by Hermann Broch
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, by Anne Brontë
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë
Wuthering Heights, by Emily Brontë
The Thirty-Nine Steps, by John Buchan
The Master and Margarita, by Mikhail Bulgakov
A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess
Inside Mr. Enderby, by Anthony Burgess
Camilla, by Fanny Burney
Evelina, by Fanny Burney
Junkie, by William Burroughs
Naked Lunch, by William Burroughs
Erewhon, by Samuel Butler
The Way of All Flesh, by Samuel Butler
The Tartar Steppe, by Dino Buzzati
The Virgin in the Garden, by A.S. Byatt
The Postman Always Rings Twice, by James M. Cain
House in the Uplands, by Erskine Caldwell
If On a Winter’s Night a Traveler, by Italo Calvino
Invisible Cities, by Italo Calvino
The Castle of Crossed Destinies, by Italo Calvino
The Path to the Nest of Spiders, by Italo Calvino
The Outsider, by Albert Camus
The Plague, by Albert Camus
The Rebel, by Albert Camus
Auto-da-Fé, by Elias Canetti
War with the Newts, by Karel Capek
Breakfast at Tiffany’s, by Truman Capote
In Cold Blood, by Truman Capote
Jack Maggs, by Peter Carey
Oscar and Lucinda, by Peter Carey
Them, by Joyce Carol Oates
Kingdom of This World, by Alejo Carpentier
The Lost Steps, by Alejo Carpentier
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll
Through the Looking Glass, by Lewis Carroll
Nights at the Circus, by Angela Carter
Bebo’s Girl, by Carlo Cassola
Solitude, by Victor Catala
The Professor’s House, by Willa Cather
Journey to the Alcarria, by Camilo Jose Cela
The Hive, by Camilo Jose Cela
Journey to the End of the Night, by Louis-Ferdinand Céline
Soldiers of Salamis, by Javier Cercas
Don Quixote, by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
The Travels of Persiles and Sigismunda, by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, by Michael Chabon
The Big Sleep, by Raymond Chandler
The Long Goodbye, by Raymond Chandler
Wild Swans, by Jung Chang
On the Black Hill, by Bruce Chatwin
Monkey: Journey to the West, by Wu Cheng’en
The Riddle of the Sands, by Erskine Childers
The Taebaek Mountains, by Jung Rae Cho
Dangerous Liaisons, by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos
The Awakening, by Kate Chopin
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, by Agatha Christie
On the Heights of Despair, by Emil Cioran
2001: A Space Odyssey, by Arthur C. Clarke
The Sorrow of Belgium, by Hugo Claus
Fanny Hill, by John Cleland
Les Enfants Terribles, by Jean Cocteau
What a Carve Up!, by Jonathan Coe
The Devil and Miss Prym, by Paulo Coelho
Veronika Decides to Die, by Paulo Coelho
Disgrace, by J.M. Coetzee
Dusklands, by J.M. Coetzee
In the Heart of the Country, by J.M. Coetzee
The Life and Times of Michael K, by J.M. Coetzee
Waiting for the Barbarians, by J.M. Coetzee
Belle du Seigneur, by Albert Cohen
Claudine’s House, by Colette
The Moonstone, by Wilkie Collins
The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins
Heart of Darkness, by Joseph Conrad
Nostromo, by Joseph Conrad
The Secret Agent, by Joseph Conrad
The Lion of Flanders, by Hendrik Conscience
Pricksongs and Descants, by Robert Coover
Eline Vere, by Louis Couperus
Arcadia, by Jim Crace
The Enormous Room, by E.E. Cummings
The Hours, by Michael Cunningham
Disappearance, by David Dabydeen
Nervous Conditions, by Tsitsi Dangarembga
The Child of Pleasure, by Gabriele D’Annunzio
Fifth Business, by Robertson Davies
The End of the Story, by Lydia Davis
Dom Casmurro, by Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis
The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas, by Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis
Eugénie Grandet, by Honoré de Balzac
Le Père Goriot, by Honoré de Balzac
Lost Illusions, by Honoré de Balzac
The Mandarins, by Simone de Beauvoir
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, by Louis de Bernieres
On Love, by Alain de Botton
The Princess of Clèves, by Madame de La Fayette
Maldoror, by Comte de Lautréaumont
The Twins, by Tessa de Loo
A Woman’s Life, by Guy de Maupassant
Bel-Ami, by Guy de Maupassant
Pierre and Jean, by Guy de Maupassant
Amadis of Gaul, by Garci Rodriguez de Montalvo
The Crime of Father Amaro, by Jose Maria Eca de Queiros
The Viceroys, by Federico De Roberto
La Celestina, by Fernando de Rojas
Justine, by Marquis de Sade
The 120 Days of Sodom, by Marquis de Sade
The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Moll Flanders, by Daniel Defoe
Robinson Crusoe, by Daniel Defoe
The Heretic, by Miguel Delibes
Falling Man, by Don DeLillo
Mao II, by Don DeLillo
Underworld, by Don DeLillo
White Noise, by Don DeLillo
Thomas of Reading, by Thomas Deloney
Clear Light of Day, by Anita Desai
The Inheritance of Loss, by Kiran Desai
All About H. Hatterr, by G.V. Desani
Small Remedies, by Shashi Deshpande
The Conquest of New Spain, by Bernal Diaz del Castillo
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, by Philip K. Dick
Bleak House, by Charles Dickens
David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens
Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens
Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens
Jacques the Fatalist, by Denis Diderot
The Nun, by Denis Diderot
Rameau’s Nephew, by Denis Diderot
Democracy, by Joan Didion
Play It As It Lays, by Joan Didion
The Bitter Glass, by Eilís Dillon
Out of Africa, by Isak Dinesen
Berlin Alexanderplatz, by Alfred Döblin
Ragtime, by E.L. Doctorow
The Book of Daniel, by E.L. Doctorow
Stone Junction, by Jim Dodge
Asphodel, by Hilda Doolittle
U.S.A., by John Dos Passos
Crime and Punishment, by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Notes from the Underground, by Fyodor Dostoevsky
The Devils, by Fyodor Dostoevsky
The Idiot, by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Fool’s Gold, by Maro Douka
Uncle Petros and Goldbach’s Conjecture, by Apostolos Doxiadis
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, by Arthur Conan Doyle
The Hound of the Baskervilles, by Arthur Conan Doyle
The Radiant Way, by Margaret Drabble
As If I Am Not There, by Slavenka Drakulic
Sister Carrie, by Theodore Dreiser
Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier
The Count of Monte-Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas
The Three Musketeers, by Alexandre Dumas
Hallucinating Foucault, by Patricia Duncker
The Lover, by Marguerite Duras
The Ravishing of Lol V. Stein, by Marguerite Duras
The Vice-Consul, by Marguerite Duras
Justine, by Lawrence Durrell
The Judge and His Hangman, by Friedrich Dürrenmatt
A World for Julius, by Alfredo Bryce Echenique
Foucault’s Pendulum, by Umberto Eco
The Name of the Rose, by Umberto Eco
Castle Rackrent, by Maria Edgeworth
Woman at Point Zero, by Nawal El Saadawi
Adam Bede, by George Eliot
Middlemarch, by George Eliot
Silas Marner, by George Eliot
The Mill on the Floss, by George Eliot
American Psycho, by Bret Easton Ellis
Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison
The Black Dahlia, by James Ellroy
Cheese, by Willem Elsschot
Deep River, by Shusaku Endo
Silence, by Shusaku Endo
The Book about Blanche and Marie, by Per Olov Enquist
The Interesting Narrative, by Olaudah Equiano
Love Medicine, by Louise Erdrich
Moscow Stations, by Venedikt Erofeyev
Like Water for Chocolate, by Laura Esquivel
Celestial Harmonies, by Péter Esterházy
The Virgin Suicides, by Jeffrey Eugenides
Under the Skin, by Michel Faber
Astradeni, by Eugenia Fakinou
The Siege of Krishnapur, by J.G. Farrell
The Singapore Grip, by J.G. Farrell
Absalom, Absalom!, by William Faulkner
Birdsong, by Sebastian Faulks
Last of the Mohicans, by James Fenimore Cooper
Troubling Love, by Elena Ferrante
Joseph Andrews, by Henry Fielding
Tom Jones, by Henry Fielding
The Wars, by Timothy Findley
Tender is the Night, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Bouvard and Pécuchet, by Gustave Flaubert
Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert
Sentimental Education, by Gustave Flaubert
Casino Royale, by Ian Fleming
Everything is Illuminated, by Jonathan Safran Foer
Effi Briest, by Theodor Fontane
The Stechlin, by Theodor Fontane
Parade’s End, by Ford Madox Ford
The Good Soldier, by Ford Madox Ford
A Passage to India, by E.M. Forster – seen the film!
A Room With a View, by E.M. Forster – seen the film!
Howards End, by E.M. Forster – seen the film!
The French Lieutenant’s Woman, by John Fowles
The Magus, by John Fowles
Faces in the Water, by Janet Frame
Thais, by Anatole France
The Corrections, by Jonathan Franzen
Simon and the Oaks, by Marianne Fredriksson
Hideous Kinky, by Esther Freud
Homo Faber, by Max Frisch
I’m Not Stiller, by Max Frisch
The Death of Artemio Cruz, by Carlos Fuentes
The Recognitions, by William Gaddis
The Back Room, by Carmen Martin Gaite
Memory of Fire, by Eduardo Galeano
The Trick is to Keep Breathing, by Janice Galloway
The Forsyte Saga, by John Galsworthy
Autumn of the Patriarch, by Gabriel García Márquez
Love in the Time of Cholera, by Gabriel García Márquez
No One Writes to the Colonel, by Gabriel García Márquez
One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel García Márquez
Eclipse of the Crescent Moon, by Geza Gardonyi
Promise at Dawn, by Romain Gary
The Roots of Heaven, by Romain Gary
Cranford, by Elizabeth Gaskell
North and South, by Elizabeth Gaskell
Legend, by David Gemmell
The Triple Mirror of the Self, by Zulfikar Ghose
The Shadow Lines, by Amitav Ghosh
Cold Comfort Farm, by Stella Gibbons
Neuromancer, by William Gibson
Fruits of the Earth, by André Gide
Strait is the Gate, by André Gide
The Counterfeiters, by André Gide
The Immoralist, by André Gide
New Grub Street, by George Gissing
The Adventures of Caleb Williams, by William Godwin
Elective Affinities, by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
The Sorrows of Young Werther, by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship, by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Dead Souls, by Nikolay Gogol
The Nose, by Nikolay Gogol
Lord of the Flies, by William Golding
The Vicar of Wakefield, by Oliver Goldsmith
Ferdydurke, by Witold Gombrowicz
Oblomov, by Ivan Goncharov
Burger’s Daughter, by Nadine Gordimer
July’s People, by Nadine Gordimer
Mother, by Maxim Gorky
The Artamonov Business, by Maxim Gorky
Marks of Identity, by Juan Goytisolo
The Opposing Shore, by Julien Gracq
Dog Years, by Gunter Grass
Cat and Mouse, by Günter Grass
The Tin Drum, by Günter Grass
Lanark: A Life in Four Books, by Alasdair Gray
Back, by Henry Green
Blindness, by Henry Green
Living, by Henry Green
Loving, by Henry Green
Brighton Rock, by Graham Greene
The End of the Affair, by Graham Greene
The Honorary Consul, by Graham Greene
The Power and the Glory, by Graham Greene
The Quiet American, by Graham Greene
Diary of a Nobody, by George Grossmith
Romance of the Three Kingdoms, by Luo Guanzhong
Memoirs of Rain, by Sunetra Gupta
Dirty Havana Trilogy, by Pedro Juan Gutierrez
Forever a Stranger, by Hella Haasse
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, by Mark Haddon
The Well of Loneliness, by Radclyffe Hall
The Reluctant Fundamentalist, by Mohsin Hamid
The Maltese Falcon, by Dashiell Hammett
The Thin Man, by Dashiell Hammett
Growth of the Soil, by Knut Hamsun
Hunger, by Knut Hamsun
The Afternoon of a Writer, by Peter Handke
The Left-Handed Woman, by Peter Handke
Far from the Madding Crowd, by Thomas Hardy
Jude the Obscure, by Thomas Hardy
Tess of the D’Urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy
The Go-Between, by L.P. Hartley
The Good Soldier Švejk, by Jaroslav Hašek
The House of the Seven Gables, by Nathaniel Hawthorne
The Scarlet Letter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Love in Excess, by Eliza Haywood
A Question of Power, by Bessie Head
The Blind Owl, by Sadegh Hedayat
Stranger in a Strange Land, by Robert Heinlein
Catch-22, by Joseph Heller
A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway
For Whom the Bell Tolls, by Ernest Hemingway
The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemingway
The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest Hemingway
Margot and the Angels, by Kristien Hemmerechts
Nowhere Man, by Aleksandar Hemon
Reasons to Live, by Amy Hempel
The First Garden, by Anne Herbert
Martin Fierro, by Jose Hernandez
Dispatches, by Michael Herr
Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse
Steppenwolf, by Herman Hesse
The Glass Bead Game, by Herman Hesse
The Talented Mr. Ripley, by Patricia Highsmith
Camera Obscura, by Hildebrand
Blind Man With a Pistol, by Chester Himes
A Kestrel for a Knave, by Barry Hines
The House on the Borderland, by William Hope Hodgson
Smilla’s Sense of Snow, by Peter Høeg
The Life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr, by E.T.A. Hoffman
The Parable of the Blind, by Gert Hofmann
The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner, by James Hogg
Hyperion, by Friedrich Hölderlin
The Line of Beauty, by Alan Hollinghurst
The Swimming Pool Library, by Alan Hollinghurst
The Cathedral, by Oles Honchar
Elementary Particles, by Michel Houellebecq
Platform, by Michel Houellebecq
Whatever, by Michel Houellebecq
Closely Watched Trains, by Bohumil Hrabal
Les Misérables, by Victor Hugo
The Hunchback of Notre Dame, by Victor Hugo
Paradise of the Blind, by Duong Thu Huong
What I Loved, by Siri Hustvedt
Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley
Crome Yellow, by Aldous Huxley
Eyeless in Gaza, by Aldous Huxley
Against the Grain, by Joris-Karl Huysmans
Down There, by Joris-Karl Huysmans
Carry Me Down, by M.J. Hyland
Three Trapped Tigers, by Guillermo Cabrera Infante
A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving
The Cider House Rules, by John Irving
Goodbye to Berlin, by Christopher Isherwood
The Last of Mr. Norris, by Christopher Isherwood
A Pale View of Hills, by Kazuo Ishiguro
An Artist of the Floating World, by Kazuo Ishiguro
Remains of the Day, by Kazuo Ishiguro
The Unconsoled, by Kazuo Ishiguro
The Ambassadors, by Henry James
The Portrait of a Lady, by Henry James
The Wings of the Dove, by Henry James
What Maisie Knew, by Henry James
A Day Off, by Storm Jameson
The Summer Book, by Tove Jansson
The Piano Teacher, by Elfriede Jelinek
Leaden Wings, by Zhang Jie
Platero and I, by Juan Ramon Jimenez
House Mother Normal, by B.S. Johnson
Rasselas, by Samuel Johnson
Jahrestage, by Uwe Johnson
In Parenthesis, by David Jones
Fear of Flying, by Erica Jong
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, by James Joyce
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
Ulysses, by James Joyce
The Glass Bees, by Ernst Junger
The Storm of Steel, by Ernst Junger
Broken April, by Ismail Kadare
Spring Flowers, Spring Frost, by Ismail Kadare
The Successor, by Ismail Kadare
Amerika, by Franz Kafka
The Castle, by Franz Kafka
The Trial, by Franz Kafka
A Thousand Cranes, by Yasunari Kawabata
The Last Temptation of Christ, by Nikos Kazantzákis
Zorba the Greek, by Nikos Kazantzákis
Measuring the World, by Daniel Kehlmann
Green Henry, by Gottfried Keller
How Late It Was, How Late, by James Kelman
The Busconductor Hines, by James Kelman
Schindler’s Ark, by Thomas Keneally
Looking for the Possible Dance, by A.L. Kennedy
Confederacy of Dunces, by John Kennedy Toole
On the Road, by Jack Kerouac
Fateless, by Imre Kertész
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, by Ken Kesey
Sometimes a Great Notion, by Ken Kesey
Annie John, by Jamaica Kincaid
The Shining, by Stephen King
The Water-Babies, by Charles Kingsley
The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver
Kim, by Rudyard Kipling
Garden, Ashes, by Danilo Kis
Waiting for the Dark, Waiting for the Light, by Ivan Klima
Death in Rome, by Wolfgang Koeppen
The Hothouse, by Wolfgang Koeppen
The Case Worker, by Gyorgy Konrad
A Day in Spring, by Ciril Kosmac
Smell of Sadness, by Alfred Kossmann
The Fan Man, by William Kotzwinkle
The Midnight Examiner, by William Kotzwinkle
The Melancholy of Resistance, by László Krasznahorkai
On the Edge of Reason, by Miroslav Krleza
The Return of Philip Latinowicz, by Miroslav Krleza
Professor Martens’ Departure, by Jaan Kross
The Book of Laughter and Forgetting, by Milan Kundera
The Unbearable Lightness of Being, by Milan Kundera
The Buddha of Suburbia, by Hanif Kureishi
Land, by Park Kyung-ni
Andrea, by Carmen Laforet
Barabbas, by Par Lagerkvist
Gösta Berling’s Saga, by Selma Lagerlöf
The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri
Passing, by Nella Larsen
Quicksand, by Nella Larsen
The Diviners, by Margaret Laurence
Lady Chatterley’s Lover, by D.H. Lawrence
Sons and Lovers, by D.H. Lawrence
The Rainbow, by D.H. Lawrence
Women in Love, by D.H. Lawrence
Independent People, by Halldór Laxness
The Dark Child, by Camara Laye
Smiley’s People, by John Le Carré
The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, by John Le Carré
In a Glass Darkly, by Sheridan Le Fanu
Uncle Silas, by Sheridan Le Fanu
The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. Le Guin
Lost Language of Cranes, by David Leavitt
To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
Cider With Rosie, by Laurie Lee
Solaris, by Stanislaw Lem
The Female Quixote, by Charlotte Lennox
The German Lesson, by Siegfried Lenz
Get Shorty, by Elmore Leonard
La Brava, by Elmore Leonard
A Hero of Our Times, by Mikhail Yurevich Lermontov
The Enchanted Wanderer, by Nikolai Leskov
The Golden Notebook, by Doris Lessing
The Grass is Singing, by Doris Lessing
Christ Stopped at Eboli, by Carlo Levi
If Not Now, When?, by Primo Levi
If This Is a Man, by Primo Levi
The Drowned and the Saved, by Primo Levi
Small Island, by Andrea Levy
The Monk, by M.G. Lewis
Monica, by Saunders Lewis
Babbitt, by Sinclair Lewis
Main Street, by Sinclair Lewis
Tarr, by Wyndham Lewis
The Apes of God, by Wyndham Lewis
A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian, by Marina Lewycka
Pippi Longstocking, by Astrid Lindgren
The Unknown Soldier, by Vaino Linna
The Hour of the Star, by Clarice Lispector
The Passion According to G.H., by Clarice Lispector
The Kindly Ones, by Jonathan Littell
The Feast of the Goat, by Mario Vargas Llosa
The Time of the Hero, by Mario Vargas Llosa
The War of the End of the World, by Mario Vargas Llosa
The Call of the Wild, by Jack London
At the Mountains of Madness, by H.P. Lovecraft
Under the Volcano, by Malcolm Lowry
Fall on Your Knees, by Ann-Marie MacDonald
Absolute Beginners, by Colin MacInnes
The Man of Feeling, by Henry Mackenzie
Midaq Alley, by Naguib Mahfouz
Miramar, by Naguib Mahfouz
Remembering Babylon, by David Malouf
Man’s Fate, by André Malraux
Faceless Killers, by Henning Mankell
Professor Unrat, by Heinrich Mann
Buddenbrooks, by Thomas Mann
Death in Venice, by Thomas Mann
Doctor Faustus, by Thomas Mann
Joseph and His Brothers, by Thomas Mann
The Magic Mountain, by Thomas Mann
Her Privates We, by Frederic Manning
The Betrothed, by Alessandro Manzoni
Embers, by Sandor Marai
All Souls , by Javier Marias
Your Face Tomorrow, by Javier Marias
The Late-Night News, by Petros Markaris
Wittgenstein’s Mistress, by David Markson
Life of Pi, by Yann Martel
Time of Silence, by Luis Martin Santos
Santa Evita, by Tomas Eloy Martinez
Tirant lo Blanc, by Joanot Martorell
The Daughter, by Pavlos Matesis
Cigarettes, by Harry Mathews
Melmoth the Wanderer, by Charles Robert Maturin
Of Human Bondage, by W. Somerset Maugham
The Razor’s Edge, by W. Somerset Maugham
Vipers’ Tangle, by Francois Mauriac
The Butcher Boy, by Patrick McCabe
All the Pretty Horses, by Cormac McCarthy
Blood Meridian, by Cormac McCarthy
They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?, by Horace McCoy
Atonement, by Ian McEwan
Enduring Love, by Ian McEwan
The Cement Garden, by Ian McEwan
Amongst Women, by John McGahern
The Heart of Redness, by Zakes Mda
Moby-Dick, by Herman Melville
A Light Comedy, by Eduardo Mendoza
The Manila Rope, by Veijo Meri
Day of the Dolphin, by Robert Merle
Fugitive Pieces, by Anne Michaels
Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller
The Sea of Fertility, by Yukio Mishima
The Sound of Waves, by Yukio Mishima
A Fine Balance, by Rohinton Mistry
Cloud Atlas, by David Mitchell
Gone With the Wind, by Margaret Mitchell
Love in a Cold Climate, by Nancy Mitford
Crossfire, by Miyuki Miyabe
Chaka the Zulu, by Thomas Mofolo
Southern Seas, by Manuel Vazquez Montalban
Watchmen, by Alan Moore
Anagrams, by Lorrie Moore
Like Life, by Lorrie Moore
A Ghost at Noon, by Alberto Moravia
Disobedience, by Alberto Moravia
The Time of Indifference, by Alberto Moravia
Anton Reiser, by Karl Philipp Moritz
Pavel’s Letters, by Monika Moron
News from Nowhere, by William Morris
Beloved, by Toni Morrison
Song of Solomon, by Toni Morrison
The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison
Down Second Avenue, by Es’kia Mphahlele
The Holder of the World, by Bharati Mukherjee
The Discovery of Heaven, by Harry Mulisch
Max Havelaar, by Multatuli
Lives of Girls and Women, by Alice Munro
The Beggar Maid, by Alice Munro
Kafka on the Shore, by Haruki Murakami
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, by Haruki Murakami
Almost Transparent Blue, by Ryu Murakami
A Severed Head, by Iris Murdoch
The Bell, by Iris Murdoch
The Sea, The Sea, by Iris Murdoch
Under the Net, by Iris Murdoch
Inland, by Gerald Murnane
The Man Without Qualities, by Robert Musil
Young Törless, by Robert Musil
The Adventures and Misadventures of Maqroll, by Alvaro Mutis
Ada, by Vladimir Nabokov
Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov
Pale Fire, by Vladimir Nabokov
Pnin, by Vladimir Nabokov
The Water Margin, by Shi Nai’an
A Bend in the River, by V.S. Naipaul
Enigma of Arrival, by V.S. Naipaul
In A Free State, by V.S. Naipaul
The Guide, by R.K. Narayan
The Unfortunate Traveller, by Thomas Nashe
Their Eyes Were Watching God, by Zora Neale Hurston
Suite Francaise, by Irene Nemirovsky
Delta of Venus, by Anaïs Nin
All Souls Day, by Cees Nooteboom
Rituals, by Cees Nooteboom
Fear and Trembling, by Amélie Nothomb
Henry of Ofterdingen, by Novalis
Girl With Green Eyes, by Edna O’Brien
The Country Girls, by Edna O’Brien
At Swim-Two-Birds, by Flann O’Brien
The Third Policeman, by Flann O’Brien
The Things They Carried, by Tim O’Brien
Everything That Rises Must Converge, by Flannery O’Connor
Wise Blood, by Flannery O’Connor
The Talk of the Town, by Ardal O’Hanlon
Pluck the Bud and Destroy the Offspring, by Kenzaburo Oe
The English Patient, by Michael Ondaatje
The Shipyard, by Juan Carlos Onetti
Animal Farm, by George Orwell
Keep the Aspidistra Flying, by George Orwell
Nineteen Eighty-Four, by George Orwell
Cataract, by Mykhailo Osadchyi
A Tale of Love and Darkness, by Amos Oz
Black Box, by Amos Oz
Life is a Caravanserai, by Emine Özdamar
The Year of the Hare, by Arto Paasilinna
Manon des Sources, by Marcel Pagnol
The Laws, by Connie Palmen
Snow, by Orhan Pamuk
Life of Christ, by Giovanni Papini
Ballad for Georg Henig, by Viktor Paskov
The Ragazzi, by Pier Paulo Pasolini
Doctor Zhivago, by Boris Pasternak
Marius the Epicurean, by Walter Pater
Cry, the Beloved Country, by Alan Paton
The Harvesters, by Cesare Pavese
The Moon and the Bonfires, by Cesare Pavese
Dictionary of the Khazars, by Milorad Pavic
The Labyrinth of Solitude, by Octavio Paz
Gormenghast, by Mervyn Peake
Titus Groan, by Mervyn Peake
The Clay Machine-Gun, by Victor Pelevin
The Life of Insects, by Victor Pelevin
A Void, by Georges Perec
Life: A User’s Manual, by Georges Perec
Things: A Story of the Sixties, by Georges Perec
W, or the Memory of Childhood, by Georges Perec
Compassion, by Benito Perez Galdos
The Dumas Club, by Arturo Perez-Reverte
The Book of Disquiet, by Fernando Pessoa
Vernon God Little, by DBC Pierre
Money to Burn, by Ricardo Piglia
One, No One and One Hundred Thousand, by Luigi Pirandello
The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath
The Trusting and the Maimed, by James Plunkett
The Fall of the House of Usher, by Edgar Allan Poe
The Pit and the Pendulum, by Edgar Allan Poe
Here’s to You, Jesusa, by Elena Poniatowska
A Dance to the Music of Time, by Anthony Powell
Typical, by Padgett Powell
The Shipping News, by E. Annie Proulx
Remembrance of Things Past, by Marcel Proust [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]
Pharoah, by Boleslaw Prus
Heartbreak Tango, by Manuel Puig
Kiss of the Spider Woman, by Manuel Puig
Eugene Onegin, by Alexander Pushkin
The Godfather, by Mario Puzo
Excellent Women, by Barbara Pym
Quartet in Autumn, by Barbara Pym
Gravity’s Rainbow, by Thomas Pynchon
The Crying of Lot 49, by Thomas Pynchon
V., by Thomas Pynchon
Against the Day, by Thomas Pynchon
Exercises in Style, by Raymond Queneau
Gargantua and Pantagruel, by Françoise Rabelais
The Mysteries of Udolpho, by Ann Radcliffe
The Devil in the Flesh, by Raymond Radiguet
The Last World, by Christoph Ransmayr
The Story of O, by Pauline Réage
The Forest of the Hanged, by Liviu Rebreanu
All Quiet on the Western Front, by Erich Maria Remarque
Good Morning, Midnight, by Jean Rhys
Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys
Interview With the Vampire, by Anne Rice
Tarzan of the Apes, by Edgar Rice Burroughs
Pilgrimage, by Dorothy Richardson
Clarissa, by Samuel Richardson
Pamela, by Samuel Richardson
King Solomon’s Mines, by H. Rider Haggard
The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, by Rainer Maria Rilke
Larva: Midsummer Night’s Babel, by Julian Rios
Jealousy, by Alain Robbe-Grillet
Hadrian the Seventh, by Frederick Rolfe
The Devil to Pay in the Backlands, by Joao Guimaraes Rosa
Love’s Work, by Gillian Rose
Call it Sleep, by Henry Roth
The Radetzky March, by Joseph Roth
Portnoy’s Complaint, by Philip Roth
The Human Stain, by Philip Roth
The Plot Against America, by Philip Roth
Confessions, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Émile; or, On Education, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Julie; or, the New Eloise, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Reveries of a Solitary Walker, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Impressions of Africa, by Raymond Roussel
Locus Solus, by Raymond Roussel
The God of Small Things, by Arundhati Roy
The Tin Flute, by Gabrielle Roy
The Burning Plain, by Juan Rulfo
Midnight’s Children, by Salman Rushdie
Shame, by Salman Rushdie
The Satanic Verses, by Salman Rushdie
The Deadbeats, by Ward Ruyslinck
Rashomon, by Akutagawa Ryunosuke
The Witness, by Juan Jose Saer
Contact, by Carl Sagan
Bonjour Tristesse, by Françoise Sagan
Sandokan: The Tigers of Mompracem, by Emilio Salgari
Season of Migration to the North, by Tayeb Salih
Franny and Zooey, by J.D. Salinger
The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
The Devil’s Pool, by George Sand
Alberta and Jacob, by Cora Sandel
The History of the Siege of Lisbon, by José Saramago
The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis, by José Saramago
Baltasar and Blimunda, by Jose Saramago
Facundo, by Domingo Faustino Sarmiento
Nausea, by Jean-Paul Sartre
Murder Must Advertise, by Dorothy L. Sayers
The Nine Tailors, by Dorothy L. Sayers
The Swarm, by Frank Schatzing
The Reader, by Bernhard Schlink
None but the Brave, by Arthur Schnitzler
Memoirs of my Nervous Illness, by Daniel Paul Schreber
The Street of Crocodiles, by Bruno Schulz
To Each His Own, by Leonardo Sciascia
Ivanhoe, by Sir Walter Scott
Rob Roy, by Sir Walter Scott
Austerlitz, by W.G. Sebald
Vertigo, by W.G. Sebald
Transit, by Anna Seghers
Requiem for a Dream, by Hubert Selby Jr.
Death and the Dervish, by Mesa Selimovic
The Lonely Londoners, by Sam Selvon
God’s Bits of Wood, by Ousmane Sembene
The Case of Comrade Tulayev, by Victor Serge
A Suitable Boy, by Vikram Seth
Retreat Without Song, by Shahan Shahnur
Rickshaw Boy, by Lao She
Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley
The Stone Diaries, by Carol Shields
The Tale of Genji, by Murasaki Shikibu
A Town Like Alice, by Nevil Shute
Quo Vadis, by Henryk Sienkiewicz
Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, by Alan Sillitoe
Life and Death of Harriett Frean, by May Sinclair
The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair
The Magician of Lublin, by Isaac Bashevis Singer
The Manor, by Isaac Bashevis Singer
Animal’s People, by Indra Sinha
The Engineer of Human Souls, by Josef Skvorecky
The Forbidden Realm, by J. Slauerhoff
Islands, by Dan Sleigh
The Accidental, by Ali Smith
White Teeth, by Zadie Smith
Humphry Clinker, by Tobias George Smollett
Peregrine Pickle, by Tobias George Smollett
The Port, by Antun Šoljan
Cancer Ward, by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
The First Circle, by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
Some Experiences of an Irish R.M., by Somerville and Ross
Lady Number Thirteen, by Jose Carlos Somoza
Kokoro, by Natsume Soseki
The Girls of Slender Means, by Muriel Spark
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, by Muriel Spark
Mother’s Milk, by Edward St Aubyn
The Man Who Loved Children, by Christina Stead
The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, by Gertrude Stein
The Making of Americans, by Gertrude Stein
Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck
The Grapes of Wrath, by John Steinbeck
The Charterhouse of Parma, by Stendhal
The Red and the Black, by Stendhal
The Charwoman’s Daughter, by James Stephens
A Sentimental Journey, by Laurence Sterne
Tristram Shandy, by Laurence Sterne
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson
Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson
Indian Summer, by Adalbert Stifter
Dracula, by Bram Stoker
Uncle Tom’s Cabin, by Harriet Beecher Stowe
Couples, Passerby, by Botho Strauss
The Young Man, by Botho Strauss
By the Open Sea, by August Strindberg
The People of Hemsö, by August Strindberg
The Red Room, by August Strindberg
Perfume, by Patrick Süskind
The Pigeon, by Patrick Süskind
As a Man Grows Older, by Italo Svevo
Zeno’s Conscience, by Italo Svevo
Waterland, by Graham Swift
A Modest Proposal, by Jonathan Swift
Gulliver’s Travels, by Jonathan Swift
The Beautiful Mrs Seidenman, by Andrzej Szczypiorski
Pereira Declares: A Testimony, by Antonio Tabucchi
The Home and the World, by Rabindranath Tagore
The Third Wedding, by Costas Taktsis
Some Prefer Nettles, by Junichiro Tanizaki
The Secret History, by Donna Tartt
Blaming, by Elizabeth Taylor
Vanity Fair, by William Makepeace Thackeray
The Great Indian Novel, by Shashi Tharoor
Matigari, by Ngugi wa Thiong’o
The River Between, by Ngugi wa Thiong’o
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, by Hunter S. Thompson
Walden, by Henry David Thoreau
Cutter and Bone, by Newton Thornburg
The 13 Clocks, by James Thurber
The Invention of Curried Sausage, by Uwe Timm
Pallieter, by Felix Timmermans
The Master, by Colm Tóibín
The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien
The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien
Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy
The Death of Ivan Ilyich, by Leo Tolstoy
The Kreutzer Sonata, by Leo Tolstoy
War and Peace, by Leo Tolstoy
The Leopard, by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa
City Sister Silver, by Jáchym Topol
Summer Will Show, by Sylvia Townsend Warner
The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, by Robert Tressell
Felicia’s Journey, by William Trevor
Phineas Finn, by Anthony Trollope
The Last Chronicle of Barset, by Anthony Trollope
Summer in Baden-Baden, by Leonid Tsypkin
The Christmas Oratorio, by Goran Tunstrom
Fathers and Sons, by Ivan Turgenev
King Lear of the Steppes, by Ivan Turgenev
Spring Torrents, by Ivan Turgenev
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
The Museum of Unconditional Surrender, by Dubravka Ugresic
Kristin Lavransdatter, by Sigrid Undset
Rabbit is Rich, by John Updike
Rabbit Redux, by John Updike
Rabbit, Run, by John Updike
Pepita Jimenez, by Juan Valera
Our Lady of Assassins, by Fernando Vallejo
The Quest, by Frederik van Eeden
Ancestral Voices, by Etienne van Heerden
Z, by Vassilis Vassilikos
The Lusiad, by Luis Vaz de Camoes
Under the Yoke, by Ivan Vazov
The House by the Medlar Tree, by Giovanni Verga
Around the World in Eighty Days, by Jules Verne
Journey to the Centre of the Earth, by Jules Verne
The Birds, by Tarjei Vesaas
The Garden Where the Brass Band Played, by Simon Vestdijk
Froth on the Daydream, by Boris Vian
Myra Breckinridge, by Gore Vidal
Bartleby and Co., by Enrique Vila-Matas
Memoirs of a Peasant Boy, by Xose Neira Vilas
Conversations In Sicily, by Elio Vittorini
In Search of Klingsor, by Jorge Volpi
Candide, by Voltaire
The Life of a Good-for-Nothing, by Joseph von Eichendorff
The Adventurous Simplicissimus, by Hans von Grimmelshausen
Michael Kohlhaas, by Heinrich von Kleist
Cat’s Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut
Slaughterhouse Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
The New World, by Henry Walda-Sellasse
Possessing the Secret of Joy, by Alice Walker
The Color Purple, by Alice Walker
Infinite Jest, by David Foster Wallace
Ben-Hur, by Lew Wallace
The Castle of Otranto, by Horace Walpole
Halftime, by Martin Walser
Morvern Callar, by Alan Warner
Indigo, by Marina Warner
The House with the Blind Glass Windows, by Herbjorg Wassmo
Billy Liar, by Keith Waterhouse
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, by Winifred Watson
Brideshead Revisited, by Evelyn Waugh
Decline and Fall, by Evelyn Waugh
The Graduate, by Charles Webb
The Island of Dr. Moreau, by H.G. Wells
The Time Machine, by H.G. Wells
The War of the Worlds, by H.G. Wells
The Optimist’s Daughter, by Eudora Welty
Miss Lonelyhearts, by Nathanael West
The Return of the Soldier, by Rebecca West
The Thinking Reed, by Rebecca West
Ethan Frome, by Edith Wharton
The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton
The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton
A Boy’s Own Story, by Edmund White
The Living and the Dead, by Patrick White
The Tree of Man, by Patrick White
Voss, by Patrick White
The Once and Future King, by T.H. White
The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde
Tarka the Otter, by Henry Williamson
No Laughing Matter, by Angus Wilson
I Thought of Daisy, by Edmund Wilson
Sexing the Cherry, by Jeanette Winterson
Written on the Body, by Jeanette Winterson
Insatiability, by Stanislaw Ignacy Witkiewicz
Thank You, Jeeves, by P.G. Wodehouse
Patterns of Childhood, by Christa Wolf
The Quest for Christa T., by Christa Wolf
Look Homeward, Angel, by Thomas Wolfe
The Bonfire of the Vanities, by Tom Wolfe
The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, by Tom Wolfe
Back to Oegstgeest, by Jan Wolkers
Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf
Orlando, by Virginia Woolf
The Waves, by Virginia Woolf
To The Lighthouse, by Virginia Woolf
Native Son, by Richard Wright
Day of the Triffids, by John Wyndham
The Midwich Cuckoos, by John Wyndham
Half of Man is Woman, by Zhang Xianliang
A Dream of Red Mansions, by Cao Xueqin
Kitchen, by Banana Yoshimoto
Memoirs of Hadrian, by Marguerite Yourcenar
We, by Yevgeny Zamyatin
Drunkard, by Émile Zola
Germinal, by Émile Zola
La Bête Humaine, by Émile Zola
Nana, by Émile Zola
Thérèse Raquin, by Émile Zola
Gimmick!, by Joost Zwagerman
The Case of Sergeant Grischa, by Arnold Zweig
Amok, by Stefan Zweig
Chess Story, by Stefan Zweig

So that’s 165 out of 1001 that I have read, with another four that I have started but not finished (two of which I disliked so much I doubt that I will ever finish them).

If you are passing by the EU Council Secretariat building, it is well worth popping inside to have a look at the controversial sculpture of David Černý which has been causing such controversy. Indeed, as Michelin would put it, it is worth a detour – and possibly worth making that detour sooner rather than later in case it gets removed!

For those of you who haven’t followed the story, my good friend Simon Taylor has a summary of it in today’s European voice, The Prague Monitor interviewed Černý, and The Guardian has pictures.

The rules for the Nebula Awards have been reformed (taking effect from next year’s awards, which will be for works published this year; this year’s awards still cover both last year and the year before).

I think this is excellent news. Indeed, I think I may have been the only person to raise this issue in an online public forum with Russell Davis when he was running for SFWA president; though in fairness had made a related point earlier in that thread. In his reply (which was positive but cautious) Davis reported that it had already been a topic of discussion elsewhere, and made it clear that he had been thinking about it himself.

See here for links to further discussion.

Sorry to hear it.

A soda with Radovan Karadžić (hat-tip to Doug Muir)

reviews Communist humour.

‘s Afghan marriage proposal.

Welcome to me old friend , who is dissatisfied with Orhan Pamuk’s Snow (which I have not read).

Andrew Rilstone on the media on Archbishop Williams on the Three Kings.

Cory Doctorow on writing in the age of online distractions.

Has anyone else noticed the subtle differences with Lexulous? Like the board is a different shape and you get eight letters in your tray instead of seven?

…I have set up the following reading lists on Librarything. First five books in each category under the cuts. (There are some overlaps.)

a: books I have already read and haven’t reviewed on-line, ranked by LT popularity.

1. Harry Potter and the philosopher’s stone
2. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
3. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
4. Harry Potter and the goblet of fire
5. The hobbit, or, There and back again

(I’ll probably have another look at Prisoner of Azkaban too, since it was my favourite first time round.)

b: books tagged “unread”, acquired in the last year, ranked by LT popularity.

1. Life Of Pi
2. The Odyssey
3. The Iliad
4. Sense and Sensibility
5. The Scarlet Letter

c: books tagged “unread”, acquired more than a year ago, ranked by LT popularity.

1. The Road from Coorain (Jill Ker Conway)
2. Resurrection (Leo Tolstoy)
3. The go-between (L.P. Hartley)
4. Music & silence (Rose Tremain)
5. King Solomon’s ring (Konrad Lorenz)

d: books tagged “unread” ranked by the number of times tagged unread by other LT users.

1. The Odyssey
2. The Road (Cormac McCarthy)
3. Life Of Pi
4. The Iliad
5. Sense and Sensibility

e: books tagged “unread”, in the order that they were added to my LT catalogue.

0. Fortunata and Jacinta (Benito Perez Galdos)
1. The go-between (L.P. Hartley)
2. Jennie (Paul Gallico)
3. Resurrection (Leo Tolstoy)
4. King Solomon’s ring (Konrad Lorenz)
5. On the place of Gilbert Chesterton in English letters (Hillaire Belloc)

f: books in order of reading popularity in this poll.

1. Sense and Sensibility
2. The Scarlet Letter
3. Tess of the d’Urbervilles
4. Elric
5. Stormbringer

g: books tagged as “unread” and “sf”, acquired in the last year, ranked by LT popularity.

1. Oryx and Crake (Atwood)
2. Making Money (Pratchett)
3. The Summer Tree (Kay)
4. The Wandering Fire (Kay)
5. Kindred (Butler)

h: books tagged as “unread” and “sf”, acquired more than a year ago, ranked by LT popularity.

1. Red Branch (Morgan Llywelyn)
2. Star Trek The Next Generation Companion (Larry Nemecek)
3. The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Second Annual Collection (ed. Gardner Dozois)
4. The Year’s Best Science Fiction Twenty-Fourth Annual Collection (ed. Gardner Dozois)
5. Misspent Youth (Peter F. Hamilton)

i: Hugo winning novels which I haven’t already reviewed on-line, in order of winning the award.

1. A Canticle for Leibowitz (Miller)
2. The Man in the High Castle (Dick)
3. This Immortal (Zelazny)
4. Lord of Light (Zelazny)
5. Stand on Zanzibar (Brunner)

j: books tagged “history” and “unread”, ranked by LT popularity.

1. Africa: A Biography of the Continent (John Reader)
2. Rocks of Ages (Stephen Jay Gould)
3. Elizabeth’s London: Everyday Life in Elizabethan London (Liza Picard)
4. The Portable Greek Historians: The Essence of Herodotus, Thucydides, Xenophon, Polybius
5. Queen Elizabeth I (J.E. Neale)

k: Big Finish Doctor Who audios, in order of release.

1. Exotron
2. Valhalla
3. The Wishing Beast
4. Frozen Time
5. Son of the Dragon

l: unread Doctor Who books, in order of internal continuity.

1. Twilight of the Gods
2. Foreign Devils
3. The Ghosts of N-Space
4. Shadow of Weng-Chiang
5. The Romance of Crime

m: unread New Series Doctor Who books, in order of LT popularity.

1. The Deviant Strain
2. Only Human
3. The Resurrection Casket
4. The Last Dodo
5. Wooden Heart

n: Shakespeare’s plays, in supposed chronological order

1. Hamlet
2. Twelfth Night
3. Troilus and Cressida
4. All’s Well That Ends Well
5. Othello

o: books owned only by me on LT, in order of entry into my catalogue.

1. Sarajevo Rose: A Balkan Jewish Notebook (Stephen Schwartz)
2. The Power of Speech: Leadership Speeches (Graham Watson)
3. The Case for Global Democracy: Advocating a United Nations Parliamentary Assembly (ed. Graham Watson)
4. Kushtetuta e UE: Rubikoni i Supranacionales / EU Constitution: The Rubicon of Suprenational (Blerim Reka)
5. The Cyprus Conflict: Looking Ahead (ed. Ahmet Sözen)

So that’s what you can expect to see in my 2009 bookblog.

Continuing my read of the Hugo winners – I thought I’d be doing Leibowitz, but this arrived via Bookmooch and is next in sequence.

Well, it’s a classic but very much of its time. It is a Bildungsroman about Juan Rico, who volunteers for the spaceborne infantry and grows up fighting for humanity against the alien Bugs. The writing is pacy and entertaining; the twist in the tail is that Rico, having learnt about life and been tested repeatedly in combat, ends up as his own father’s commanding officer.

There are two major problems with the book for today’s reader. The first and simpler one is sex: there basically isn’t any. Rico and his colleagues are all men except for the pilots who are all women. It is possible (and I think probably intended) to read all Rico’s encounters with the opposite sex as purely platonic, though in a gentlemanly desirous sort of way. The only lasting relationships are between comrades. One can read all sorts of possibilities into that, but I will spare you.

The other, this being Heinlein, is more complex: it is the politics. In this future world, only veterans of the armed forces are full citizens with the right to vote, and this is an additional motivation for enlisting. Heinlein certainly mainstreams his political culture throughout the novel more convincingly than some of his imitators, complete with jibes at today’s bleeding-heart liberals, but are we really meant to believe that this is his preferred alternative? One can read the evidence in various ways, but I think we can exclude the possibility that Heinlein actively thinks it is a bad idea, particularly given the uncritical admiration of the military way of life which permeates the narrative. Though perhaps it is at least in part a challenge to the reader to work it out for yourself.

My renewed enthusiasm for exercising in the mornings (plus my hatred of the jaunty Wii Fit music), combined with the awful commuting experiences due to the cold weather, helped me get through a fair few Big finish audios in the course of the week.

I leapt ahead of my usual order to participate in this week’s discussion of Grand Theft Cosmos. This may have been the first Eight/Lucie play I had listened to, and it would probably have made more sense in sequence: it features two returning villains, The Headhunter and Karen, who were of course completely new to me. It wasn’t bad – some decent sf ideas, and Christopher Benjamin appearing out of (almost) nowhere as the mysterious artist whose works are being collected by the King of Sweden, and a hilariously hypnotised guard. Sheridan Smith is fine as Lucie (apparently she wasn’t actually there for the recording but had to be patched in later), and there’s some nice sparkly dialogue. However the biggest problem for me is that the concept of Tardelli’s pocket universe is rather drastically underused – happens entirely off-stage, as indeed does Tardelli’s ultimate fate, so it’s a little disappointing as a drama.

In Circular Time, Paul Cornell and Mike Maddox take the Fifth Doctor and Nyssa through four separate half-hour adventures. While I couldn’t declare this to be the best ever Big Finish release, it is certainly among the very good ones. The first of the four, “Spring”, is the weakest, a story of renegade time-lords and bird people that gets a bit confused. But then we are into “Summer”, a confrontation with Sir Isaac Newton in the Tower of London due to the Doctor pulling out the wrong coins, which is rather fun. The best of the four is “Autumn”, which is a rather pastoral account of Nyssa’s romance while the Doctor enjoys playing cricket. And that then feeds into the last of the four, “Winter”, set long after the Doctor and Nyssa have parted company, but with Nyssa having these very strange dreams… Certainly the best of the BF audios I’ve listened to this week.

I can’t really remember much about Nocturne, I’m afraid. There was an authoritarian government with an improbably vibrant arts scene (the two tend not to go together). There was the usual running around. I didn’t absorb much of it.

Renaissance of the Daleks has all kinds of weirdness in it: historical soldiers from Rhodes, the Battle of the Crater and ‘Nam, plus also an attempt to prevent the Dalek Invasion of Earth from happening, plus (as ever in a Bidmead story) a place with a privileged location in the whole of space-time, plus Daleks of all sizes – the smaller they are, the nastier they get. It is an ambitious piece that didn’t quite reach what it was looking for (and Bidmead slightly dissociated himself from the final version) but worth listening to, apart from one absolutely terrible member of the guest cast.

I.D. was my second Eddie Robson play this week (and my fourth in the last month). It features Six-on-his-own getting involved with a computer salvage operation where there is more going on than first appears. It didn’t really sing to me, despite the presence of big name stars like Giles Brandreth and Helen Atkinson Wood (and Sara Griffiths from Old Who).

Urgent Calls, on the same CD set as I.D., is a different matter. It’s virtually a two-hander between Colin Baker, at the end of a phone line, and Kate Brown playing Lauren who keeps getting connected to him accidentally. In the space of thirty minutes we have two different alien manifestations and a certain exploration of what the Doctor is really doing. Very impressive.

Of all of these, Circular Time is most strongly recommended, especially the third segment.

A tale of Nemedian settlers arriving to settle a beautiful green island in ancient times, and their encounters with both natural and supernatural allies and enemies (names like Dagda, Balor, Lir, Diancecht, etc are all thrown around with great energy). The emphasis on the good settlers and bad indigenous population made it feel more like a Western (or pulp sf) than a fantasy novel, though that is less true of the fact that the means and motivation of the supernatural characters, both good and bad, was not at all clear. A curious lack of geography – we really have no idea how big this island is meant to be. I don’t think I’ll bother with the sequel.

Ann Shakespeare, née Hathaway, died in 1623, seven years after her husband, and was probably born in 1556, eight years before him. As Germaine Greer rightly points out, she tends to get short shrift from her husband’s admirers, most of whom see her as an inconvenient detail of the Bard’s early life, operating in a different universe to the London theatre world. Greer pulls apart this casual sexism, using the documentary evidence combined with her own instincts, and tells rather a good story firmly moored in the social history of Stratford-upon-Avon – the decaying Shakespeares and the more prosperous Hathaway clan; the struggles between the local council and the psychopathic landlord; the destruction of most of the town several times over by accidental fire. She points out that the oddest thing about the Shakespeares’ marriage is the fact that William was so young (not Ann’s pregnancy, which was par for the course), and then goes on to point out several romantic heroes in Shakespeare’s works who are explicitly younger than the women they love. She makes a good case that several of the sonnets (beyond 145, which is fairly obvious) are addressed to Ann – and asks, why should that be such an outrageous idea?

Of course, there isn’t a lot of documentary evidence to go on, but on the whole Greer resists the temptation of straying too far into fantasy, apart from one chapter on Ann’s totally fictional career making clothes, and a half chapter on her husband’s equally unproven slow lingering death from syphilis. She also casts, to my mind, unnecessary doubts on the authenticity of the most concrete single object relating to Shakespeare which survives, namely his monument. But the whole thing is done with Greer’s characteristic verve – her academic background, after all, is as a Shakespeare scholar, and in this book she combines passion and profundity.

I mistakenly started on this well-known novel under the false impression that it was a classic sf text; it isn’t – it is a novel of didactic philosophy, but entirely about architects in New York in the 1920s and 1930s, with no sfnal elements at all.

Rand’s Objectivist philosophy, as epitomised by her heroic architect Howard Roark, is frankly repulsive. Her viewpoint characters utter tedious tirades against the very concept of altruism; the two-dimensional bad guys use evil concepts like equality and collective action to repress the creativity of her heroes, which is their sole motivation. There is also a Mary Sue heroine whose determination to marry the wrong man several times over is rather creepy (as are her rather odd sexual preferences). On the whole I found this an unpleasant book, and one which I would not recommend to other readers. (Thanks for the warnings, and , it may be a while before I pick up either Anthem or Atlas Shrugged.) It is striking that none of Rand’s characters have or want to have children.

There are two mildly redeeming factors. The first (and lesser) is that, when she is concentrating on story-telling rather than polemic, Rand does have some good moments of characterisation that linger in the mind. The second, and more important, is that New York in the 1920s and 1930s seems to have been a particularly interesting and exciting time and place to be around. The Fountainhead is set in much the same time and place as, say, West Side Story, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Dorothy Parker, the Futurians, the early years of the New Yorker, at a slight remove The Great Gatsby. It’s a fascinating period which I should read more about, and apart from her peculiar political notions, Rand depicts it compellingly.

Anne picked up De Morgen this morning, and we have been discussing a peculiar article by one Luc Van Doorslaer about how evil the Francophone Belgians are. Van Doorslaer has two pieces of evidence for his thesis, one being an academic survey of Belgian media that demonstrates that Flemish journalists read more English-language sources than Francophone journalists do, the other being – get this, folks – Wikipedia.

…Wikipedia, zoals bekend veruit de meest gebruikte bron van informatie onder jongeren. Onder het trefwood ‘Belgique’ lees ik in verband met de talensituatie de volgende:	…Wikipedia, well known as the source of information most often used by younger people. If I look at the article on ‘Belgique’ I find the following commentary on the language situation:
D’un point de vue territorial, le français est en progression, en Flandre (près de Bruxelles, ou dans les environs de la frontière française à côté de Lille), mais également en zone germanophone. Cette tendance est une tendance naturelle constatée depuis des siècles avec l’augmentation des communications et de la facilité de voyager, qui exige de plus en plus une homogénéisation des langues, les langues importantes gagnant toujours progressivement sur les langues locales ou les patois.	Considered territorially, the French language is making progress, in Flanders (near Brussels, or around the French border near Lille) and also in the German-speaking area. This is a natural tendency, as demonstrated by centuries of improving communications and easier travel, in which important languages have consistently won out over local languages or patois (dialects).
Ik wrijf mij ogen uit en lees dit opnieuw: ‘le français est en progression‘, ‘une tendance naturelle‘, ‘les langues importantes gagnant toujours‘, ‘les patois‘. Dit is het discours dat ik in de 19de-eeuwse teksten vaker ben tegengekomen, maar het staat vandaag de dag in de meest gebruikte bron van informatie.	I rub my eyes and read it again: ‘the French language is making progress‘, ‘a natural tendency‘, ‘important languages consistently win out‘, ‘patois‘. This is the discourse I have often encountered in 19th-century textbooks, but it is to be found today in the most used source of information.

I fear that Van Doorslaer’s commentary reveals more about the intellectual weakness of the Flemish nationalists than the Walloons. He hasn’t really demonstrated that French-speakers in general take the French version of Wikipedia particularly seriously; and he hasn’t demonstrated at all that the offending article was even written by a Belgian, rather than, say, a Parisian or Quebecker to whom all dialects of Dutch are a mere patois. It would be more impressive if Flemish commentators like Van Doorslaer started reading the francophone press in Belgium directly, rather than relying on academic studies and Wikipedia articles, in order to get a better understanding of what their fellow citizens think – and in particular, to explain to the Flemings what the Walloons say about themselves and vice versa. Otherwise it is mere polemicism masquerading as analysis.

The trains are haywire again this evening; I waited for my connection in sub-zero temperatures for an hour and a half in the Brussels North station before I finally escaped. But I used my chilly wait profitably. Jeff Dudgeon has, once again, done me the favour of drawing my attention to the Dublin Review of Books, and I’ve been reading several of the essays in the latest issue.

My eye was immediately drawn to Martin McGarry’s piece on the future of Belgium, written before last month’s crisis which brought down Yves Leterme’s government, but very insightful as to how we got to where we are – in particular, he describes the infamous BHV problem perfectly adequately in a single sentence, and he enlightened me as to the peculiar dynamic between the N-VA and the CD&V. (A lot of Belgian politics revolves around acronyms.) McGarry is much more readable than Witte, Craeybeckx and Meynen, the authors of the only one of the books he is ostensibly reviewing which I have myself attempted. He’s pessimistic about the long term future of Belgium, but doesn’t quite explain why.

A little-remembered historical linkage between Belgium and Ireland is that Daniel O’Connell was given a vote in the choice of the first King of the Belgians (who, if his first wife had lived, would have been Prince Consort of the UK instead). Paul Bew and Patrick Maume review Patrick Geoghegan’s new biography of O’Connell, and achieve the task of both disagreeing with it and making you want to read it (though I may wait until the second volume comes out – the first takes us only to 1829). I had in fact read MacDonagh’s biography when it came out almost 20 years ago; it sounds like Geoghegan has found more humanity than sainthood in the man, with a more realistic assessment of his religious beliefs, his sex life, and his tendency to go over the top in his oratory. Bew and Maume ask, but don’t answer, the question of whether Parnell or O’Connell was the more significant figure. There’s no doubt in my own mind that it was O’Connell, and frankly I find his large-hearted liberal nationalism much more attractive than Parnell’s somewhat neurotic and narrow ideology.

Leaping forward a hundred years or so, the essay that is closest to my own work and experience is Eunan O’Halpin’s review of Paul McMahon’s book on British espionage in Ireland between 1916 and 1945. From the narrow Irish perspective, this books sounds like a useful corrective (and even in part an explanation) for the Sinn Féin obsession with “securocrats”. But it is also a good set of case studies of how intelligence services operate successfully (eg the collaboration between the RUC and the Garda Síochána on keeping a lid on Republican dissidents in the late 1930s and early 1940s, despite the fact that their respective governments were not on speaking terms) and unsuccessfully (the “German Plot” allegations of 1917-18, uncritically accepted by key British ministers despite the lack of actual evidence).

There’s a wider lesson as well: if, as a government, you keep open the official channels of communication with your neighbours and potential rivals, you are less dependent on the particular idiosyncracies of a small number of intelligence agents, at least when it comes to dealing with actual governments. It is rather extraordinary that there was no British diplomatic presence in Dublin until 1939! And I can think of a good dozen contemporary examples of this sort of short-sightedness. I will stop here.

Alarming news (though other reports say that it’s “only” 13 employees, ie just under half the total workforce).

LJ Archive has stopped working for me – I think my archive is too big – so I’m using this.

I blame Paul Cornell for my late arrival at home this evening.

Belgium was blessed with the miracle of snowfall yesterday (the first day back after the hols for most of us) and those of you who stalk me on Facebook and Twitter will have seen that my journey to work today was not quick: the bus failed to arrive, the train failed to arrive, and eventually my long-suffering spouse dropped me at the main line station in Leuven. Having left home at 0830, I arrived at the office roughly three hours later.

That wasn’t the bit that was Paul Cornell’s fault.

Coming home again this evening, the various main line trains were delayed by varying amounts. If you travel from Brussels North or Brussels South, you will generally be OK because your train tends to stick to the particular platform without being changed, there being enough platforms to go round. But in Brussels Central (which is much smaller) there are only six platforms, three in each direction, and then we find trains being switched rather arbitrarily between platforms at the last minute, especially if they are all running a bit late.

We are getting to the bit where it is Paul Cornell’s fault.

As it happened, my commuting listening today was the Big Finish audio play, Circular Time, which is actually four linked narratives featuring Peter Davison’s cricketing Doctor Who and his companion Nyssa, played by Sarah Sutton. The strongest of the four (which are all very good) is the third, “Autumn”, which has Davison’s Doctor exploring the relationship between male sexuality and cricket, and Sutton’s Nyssa tangling romantically with a local villager.

I was sufficiently glued to the MP3 player as I listened that I somehow misunderstood which train I was getting on at Brussels Central. When I looked up again, I had arrived in the airport, rather than in Leuven as planned. If I had been listening to a less good play, I would have been better able to concentrate on my surroundings, and would have got home in time to catch the start of University Challenge. Luckily the next couple of trains were just sufficiently late that I got home at five past the hour, just about twelve and a half hours after leaving in the morning. (And University Challenge was a close match, wasn’t it!)

I need hardly tell you who wrote Circular Time. As will be obvious from the above, it is All His Fault.

BTW I think I have managed to fix this so that it only appears on Facebook as a Note on my Wall, but is a full status update on Twitter. Howver, I’m going to sleep now, and shall check in the morning.

Now we are onto the Germans, who Gibbon likes much more than the Persians.

The most civilised nations of modern Europe issued from the woods of Germany, and in the rude institutions of those barbarians we may still distinguish the original principles of our present laws and manners.

Sadly his vies on the Germans are rather cliched – noble freedom-loving barbarians. I found much more interesting his guesses about climate change:

Some ingenious writers have suspected that Europe was much colder formerly than it is at present; and the most ancient descriptions of the climate of Germany tend exceedingly to confirm their theory. The general complaints of intense frost, and eternal winter, are perhaps little to be regarded, since we have no method of reducing to the accurate standard of the thermometer the feelings or the expressions of an orator, born in the happier regions of Greece or Asia. But I shall select two remarkable circumstances of a less equivocal nature. 1/. The great rivers which covered the Roman provinces, the Rhine and the Danube, were frequently frozen over, and capable of supporting the most enormous weights. The barbarians, who often chose that severe season for their inroads, transported, without apprehension or danger, their numerous armies, their cavalry, and their heavy wagons, over a vast and solid bridge of ice. Modern ages have not presented an instance of a like phenomenon. 2/. The reindeer, that useful animal, from whom the savage of the North derives the best comforts of his dreary life, is of a constitution that supports, and even requires, the most intense cold. He is found on the rock of Spitzberg, within ten degrees of the Pole; he seems to delight in the snows of Lapland and Siberia; but at present he cannot subsist, much less multiply, in any country to the south of the Baltic. In the time of Caesar, the reindeer, as well as the elk and the wild bull, was a native of the Hercynian forest, which then overshadowed a great part of Germany and Poland. The modern improvements sufficiently explain the causes of the diminution of the cold. These immense woods have been gradually cleared, which intercepted from the earth the rays of the sun. The morasses have been drained, and, in proportion as the soil has been cultivated, the air has become more temperate. Canada, at this day, is an exact picture of ancient Germany. Although situated in the same parallel with the finest provinces of France and England, that country experiences the most rigorous cold. The reindeer are very numerous, the ground is covered with deep and lasting snow, and the great river of St. Laurence is regularly frozen, in a season when the waters of the Seine and the Thames are usually free from ice.

It’s difficult to be very sure of any clinatological data; what little I could find suggested that Gibbon’s end of the 18th century was rather warm by (then) historical standards. He gets the relationship between fauna and forest cover backwards, but is probably right in the basic point that climate change is anthropogenic even at this stage of history.

He seems very taken with the manliness and general excellence of the Germans, and then suddenly takes a swipe at the long-forgotten Swedish scholar, Olaus Rudbeck. And it turns out that the ancient Germans weren’t so great either, because they were illiterate,

…and the use of letters is the principal circumstance that distinguishes a civilized people from a herd of savages incapable of knowledge or reflection. Without that artificial help, the human memory soon dissipates or corrupts the ideas intrusted to her charge; and the nobler faculties of the mind, no longer supplied with models or with materials, gradually forget their powers; the judgment becomes feeble and lethargic, the imagination languid or irregular.

And it turns out that the Germans had no cities, no metal, no desire to work hard, and too much fondness for liquor (that is Gibbon’s word). But then we are back into fantasy territory, as their tradition of freedom through popular choice of rulers and judges is recited. Also they were more sexually controlled due to not being corrupted by civilisation.

This is one of the sillier chapters so far.

Now we turn away from Rome to the neighbouring states, most especially Persia.

In the more early ages of the world, whilst the forest that covered Europe afforded a retreat to a few wandering savages, the inhabitants of Asia were already collected into populous cities, and reduced under extensive empires, the seat of the arts, of luxury, and of despotism.

Well, we’re into the origins of the Sassanids now, and the early career of Artaxerxes before he became an emperor:

…it appears that he was driven into exile and rebellion by royal ingratitude, the customary reward for superior merit.

Artaxerxes gains control of Persia. (Balkh is surprisingly far east for a capital.) He decides to reform the Zoroastrian religion, and Gibbon gives us a (probably inaccurate) thumbnail of Zoroastrian theology.

Every mode of religion, to make a deep and lasting impression on the human mind, must exercise our obedience, by enjoining practices of devotion; and must acquire our esteem, by inculcating moral duties analogous to the dictates of our own hearts. The religion of Zoroaster was abundantly provided with the former, and possessed a sufficient portion of the latter.

Gibbon is impressed with the ecological and practical teachings of the Zoroastrians, though not with their religious practice. He is also impressed by Artaxerxes style of government. The Romans have meantime annoyed the Persians by gratuitous sacking of Seleucia and Ctesiphon, and annexation of Osrhoene (which I knew as Edessa). The Persians declare war; the Romans under Alexander Severus invade (this sheds some light on the events of the previous chapter) but are kicked back, and Alexander is killed. Artaxerxes has been weakened too, though Gibbon still has a sneaking admiration for him:

Several of his sayings are preserved. One of them in particular discovers a deep insight into the constitution of government. “The authority of the prince,” said Artaxerxes, “must be defended by a military force; that force can only be maintained by taxes; all taxes must, at last, fall upon agriculture; and agriculture can never flourish except under the protection of justice and moderation.”

He concludes that the Persians, and the Sassanids in particular, may not have been very scientific in their waging of war but were very keen on the practice, and hostile to Rome.

A glorious start: the problem with he Roman Empire was that it wasn’t hereditary enough. (You would have thought that Commodus and Caracalla were fairly good counter-arguments, but there you go.)

Of the various forms of government which have prevailed in the world, an hereditary monarchy seems to present the fairest scope for ridicule. Is it possible to relate, without an indignant smile, that, on the father’s decease, the property of a nation, like that of a drove of oxen, descends to his infant son, as yet unknown to mankind and to himself; and that the bravest warriors and the wisest statesmen, relinquishing their natural right to empire, approach the royal cradle with bended knees and protestations of inviolable fidelity? Satire and declamation may paint these obvious topics in the most dazzling colours, but our more serious thoughts will respect a useful prejudice, that establishes a rule of succession, independent of the passions of mankind; and we shall cheerfully acquiesce in any expedient which deprives the multitude of the dangerous, and indeed the ideal, power of giving themselves a master.

In the cool shade of retirement, we may easily devise imaginary forms of government, in which the sceptre shall be constantly bestowed on the most worthy, by the free and incorrupt suffrage of the whole community. Experience overturns these airy fabrics, and teaches us that, in a large society, the election of a monarch can never devolve to the wisest, or to the most numerous, part of the people. The army is the only order of men sufficiently united to concur in the same sentiments, and powerful enough to impose them on the rest of their fellow-citizens: but the temper of soldiers, habituated at once to violence and to slavery, renders them very unfit guardians of a legal or even a civil, constitution. Justice, humanity, or political wisdom, are qualities they are too little acquainted with in themselves, to appreciate them in others. Valour will acquire their esteem, and liberality will purchase their suffrage; but the first of these merits is often lodged in the most savage breasts; the latter can only exert itself at the expense of the public; and both may be turned against the possessor of the throne, by the ambition of a daring rival.

The superior prerogative of birth, when it has obtained the sanction of time and popular opinion, is the plainest and least invidious of all distinctions among mankind. The acknowledged right extinguishes the hopes of faction, and the conscious security disarms the cruelty of the monarch. To the firm establishment of this idea, we owe the peaceful succession, and mild administration, of European monarchies. To the defect of it, we must attribute the frequent civil wars, through which an Asiatic despot is obliged to cut his way to the throne of his fathers. Yet, even in the East, the sphere of contention is usually limited to the princes of the reigning house, and as soon as the more fortunate competitor has removed his brethren, by the sword and the bowstring, he no longer entertains any jealousy of his meaner subjects. But the Roman empire, after the authority of the senate had sunk into contempt, was a vast scene of confusion. The royal, and even noble, families of the provinces, had long since been led in triumph before the car of the haughty republicans. The ancient families of Rome had successively fallen beneath the tyranny of the Caesars, and whilst those princes were shackled by the forms of a commonwealth, and disappointed by the repeated failure of their posterity, it was impossible that any idea of hereditary succession should have taken root in the minds of their subjects. The right to the throne, which none could claim from birth, every one assumed from merit. The daring hopes of ambition were set loose from the salutary restraints of law and prejudice; and the meanest of mankind might, without folly, entertain a hope of being raised by valour and fortune to a rank in the army, in which a single crime would enable him to wrest the sceptre of the world from his feeble and unpopular master. After the murder of Alexander Severus, and the elevation of Maximin, no emperor could think himself safe upon the throne and every barbarian peasant of the frontier might aspire to that august, but dangerous station.

Gloriously bigoted stuff. Note the way “prejudice” is presented as a positive thing.

Sadly we don’t get a very good idea of why Alexander was killed, though Maximin sounds like an impressive character, with a serious chip on his shoulder. He turns out to be greedy and incompetent, and it’s more surprising that the Empire survives his rule at all than that he gets overthrown.

A real laugh-out-loud moment when we get to the younger Gordian:

Twenty-two acknowledged concubines, and a library of sixty-two thousand volumes, attested the variety of his inclinations, and from the productions which he left behind him, it appears that the former as well as the latter were designed for use rather than ostentation.

Alas, he and his father get killed off pretty quickly. But by now Rome itself is in revolt, and we have Maximus and Balbinus as alternate emperors. Maximin is killed by his own troops, after much tension. Gibbon thinks he was a Bad Man because of his humble background.

But Maximus and Balbinus go the same way, leaving only the youngest Gordian as undisputed emperor. And he ends up by accident with a decent minister, Misitheus. This is OK until Misitheus dies, and his replacement, Philip, “was an Arab by birth, and consequently, in the earlier part of his life, a robber by profession.” Philip soon promotes himself to the top spot, and throws a big party for the people of Rome to make sure he stays there.

It’s been a dramatic chapter, with the Year of the Six Emperors (238 AD) central to the story. Gibbon concludes with more reflections on the overall problem:

The discipline of the legions, which alone, after the extinction of every other virtue, had propped the greatness of the state, was corrupted by the ambition, or relaxed by the weakness, of the emperors.

Which is all very well, except that he is arguing that the emperors were both too weak and too strong. Really the problem was that state institutions were not robust enough to cope with poor leadership.

Despite his negative assessment of Severus, sounds fairly sympathetic in the first para:

Distracted with the care, not of acquiring, but of preserving an empire, oppressed with age and infirmities, careless of fame, and satiated with power, all his prospects of life were closed. The desire of perpetuating the greatness of his family was the only remaining wish of his ambition and paternal tenderness.

Severus dies in Britain, leaving the empire divided between his two sons Caracalla and Geta, the former of whom kills the latter but does not last much longer himself, despite his aspiration to be a new Alexander the Great.

in no one action of his life did Caracalla express the faintest resemblance of the Macedonian hero, except in the murder of a great number of his own and of his father’s friends.

Macrinus takes power but doesn’t last long – is he the first emperor who doesn’t even make it to Rome in his reign? Gibbon seems to see him as a reformer but that appears to be code for “jumped-up bureaucrat”. Then we get Elagabalus, who introduces his own religion to Rome.

In a magnificent temple raised on the Palatine Mount, the sacrifices of the god of Elagabalus were celebrated with every circumstance of cost and solemnity. The richest wines, the most extraordinary victims, and the rarest aromatics, were profusely consumed on his altar. Around the altar a chorus of Syrian damsels performed their lascivious dances to the sound of barbarian music, whilst the gravest personages of the state and army, clothed in long Phoenician tunics, officiated in the meanest functions, with affected zeal and secret indignation.

I don’t know about the indignation, it sounds rather fun! Alas, Elagabalus turns out to be a Bad Emperor not so much because has sex with lots of women, which Gibbon doesn’t mind too much, but because he shags men as well. The end of his story is by now a familiar one. (Is he the second emperor to be killed by the Prætorian Guards?)

Gibbon is not a feminist.

In every age and country, the wiser, or at least the stronger, of the two sexes, has usurped the powers of the state, and confined the other to the cares and pleasures of domestic life. In hereditary monarchies, however, and especially in those of modern Europe, the gallant spirit of chivalry, and the law of succession, have accustomed us to allow a singular exception; and a woman is often acknowledged the absolute sovereign of a great kingdom, in which she would be deemed incapable of exercising the smallest employment; civil or military.

Indeed, what is striking is that after he condemns Mamæa just for being a woman, he goes on to explain just how good she was at running the empire through her son Alexander Antoninus.

The provinces, relieved from the oppressive taxes invented by Caracalla and his pretended son, flourished in peace and prosperity, under the administration of magistrates, who were convinced by experience, that to deserve the love of the subjects was their best and only method of obtaining the favour of their sovereign.

Much on Alexander’s efforts to reform the military, though I would have liked an assessment of how far he got. He also declared all free-born inhabitants to be citizens, which is surely worth more attention than Gibbon gives it.

Then a passage on the economics of the empire, which I found a bit lacking in substance; also I’m not an economist and the vocabulary here seems to have shifted quite a lot in the last 230 years. The explanation for the grant of universal citizenship is that it meant more money for the treasury; I really want to know more about the political currents leading up to it.

This chapter is about the rise of Severus, who Gibbon does not like, though he does not really explain why; Severus seems no more monstrous than, say, Vespasian.

Begins with a discussion of having a standing army, especially as an instrument of state authority:

THE power of the sword is more sensibly felt in an extensive monarchy than in a small community. It has been calculated by the ablest politicians, that no state, without being soon exhausted, can maintain above the hundredth part of its members in arms and idleness.

Then goes on to the Prætorian Guard, and their auctiionong the Empire (or more accurately the title of emperor). Then the revolt of the three regional commanders. Gibbon defends Clodius Albinus’ good relationship with Commodus:

The favour of a tyrant does not always suppose a want of merit in the object of it; he may, without intending it, reward a man of worth and ability, or he may find such a man useful to his own service.

On Pescenniis Niger:

the voluptuous Syrians were less delighted with the mild firmness of his administration, than with the affability of his manners, and the apparent pleasure with which he attended their frequent and pompous festivals… whilst he enjoyed the vain pomp of triumph, he neglected to secure the means of victory.

On Septimius Severus’ leadership skills:

During the whole expedition he scarcely allowed himself any moments for sleep or food; marching on foot, and in complete armour, at the head of his columns, he insinuated himself into the confidence and affection of his troops, pressed their diligence, revived their spirits, animated their hopes, and was well satisfied to share the hardships of the meanest soldier, whilst he kept in view the infinite superiority of this reward.

After Severus takes Rome:

The almost incredible expedition of Severus, who, in so short a space of time, conducted a numerous army from the banks of the Danube to those of the Tiber, proves at once the plenty of provisions produced by agriculture and commerce, the goodness of the roads, the discipline of the legions, and the indolent subdued temper of the provinces.

But Gibbon has to fit Severus’ success into his overall thesis that it’s downhill from here:

The uncommon abilities and fortune of Severus have induced an elegant historian to compare him with the first and greatest of the Caesars. The parallel is, at least, imperfect. Where shall we find, in the character of Severus, the commanding superiority of soul, the generous clemency, and the various genius, which could reconcile and unite the love of pleasure, the thirst of knowledge, and the fire of ambition?

He then goes on to criticise Severus’ use of deception to defeat Albinus and Niger, but doesn’t make a good case for the prosecution, IMHO.

Interesting analysis of why wars last longer in the present day:

The civil wars of modern Europe have been distinguished, not only by the fierce animosity, but likewise by the obstinate perseverance, of the contending factions. They have generally been justified by some principle, or, at least coloured by some pretext, of religion, freedom, or loyalty. The leaders were nobles of independent property and hereditary influence. The troops fought like men interested in a decision of the quarrel; and as military spirit and party zeal were strongly diffused throughout the whole community, a vanquished chief was immediately supplied with new adherents, eager to shed their blood in the same cause. But the Romans, after the fall of the republic, combated only for the choice of masters.

On the wisdom and justice of Severus’ government:

The true interest of an absolute monarch generally coincides with that of his people. Their numbers, their wealth, their order, and their security, are the best and only foundations of his real greatness; and were he totally devoid of virtue, prudence might supply its place, and would dictate the same rule of conduct.

Criticises Severus for recruiting the reformed Prætorian guards from outside Italy, with the result that: “the Italian youth were diverted from the exercise of arms, and the capital was terrified by the strange aspect and manners of a multitude of barbarians.”

Concluding para:

The contemporaries of Severus, in the enjoyment of the peace and glory of his reign, forgave the cruelties by which it had been introduced. Posterity, who experienced the fatal effects of his maxims and example, justly considered him as the principal author of the decline of the Roman empire.

This chapter is about 70% Commodus and 30% Pertinax; the former reigned for 13 years and the latter less than three months. Though from what Gibbon says, Pertinax is much the more attractive of the two as characters.

Some serious misogyny here, as Gibbon condemns the loose morals of Faustina and Lucilla (and poor Lucilla is condemned for having tried something very sensible, the assassination of Commodus). Meanwhile Commodus is condemned by Gibbon not so much for shagging lots of women and boys, but more for fighting as a gladiator.

A lot about Commodus himself, but it is rather long on outrage and short on detail; compared to Caligula he seems fairly small beer. Just a nice turn of phrase at the end about Lucilla’s husband, “who lamented the cruel fate of his brother-in-law, and lamented still more that he had deserved it.”

But then the story of Pertinax is told succinctly and well. An old man, unexpectedly made emperor, trying to do his best to undo his predecessor’s mistakes and then move forward, but very quickly brought down by the military. Gibbon has been warning all through of the problems of the unaccountable power of the military, especially (as in this case) the Prætorian Guards, and this is an object lesson – in fact, I think the first time the Prætorians ended an Emperor’s reign, though they had previously been responsible for Claudius’ accession.

The details of the constitution. Here he goes back in time to get inside the mind of Augustus / Octavian setting up the new state. Lots of political theory, starting with the very first paragraph:

THE obvious definition of a monarchy seems to be that of a state, in which a single person, by whatsoever name he may be distinguished, is entrusted with the execution of the laws, the management of the revenue, and the command of the army. But, unless public liberty is protected by intrepid and vigilant guardians, the authority of so formidable a magistrate will soon degenerate into despotism. The influence of the clergy, in an age of superstition, might be usefully employed to assert the rights of mankind; but so intimate is the connection between the throne and the altar, that the banner of the church has very seldom been seen on the side of the people. A martial nobility and stubborn commons, possessed of arms, tenacious of property, and collected into constitutional assemblies, form the only balance capable of preserving a free constitution against enterprises of an aspiring prince.

On Augustus taking control of the Senate:

The principles of a free constitution are irrevocably lost, when the legislative power is nominated by the executive.

A pithy summary of how it all worked (and I have been to countries where this is still the case):

To resume, in a few words, the system of the Imperial government, as it was instituted by Augustus, and maintained by those princes who understood their own interest and that of the people, it may be defined an absolute monarchy disguised by the forms of a commonwealth. The masters of the Roman world surrounded their throne with darkness, concealed their irresistible strength, and humbly professed themselves the accountable ministers of the senate, whose supreme decrees they dictated and obeyed.

On the limited usefulness of declaring recently deceased emperors to be gods:

Even the character of Caesar or Augustus were far superior to those of the popular deities. But it was the misfortune of the former to live in an enlightened age, and their actions were too faithfully recorded to admit of such a mixture of fable and mystery, as the devotion of the vulgar requires. As soon as their divinity was established by law, it sunk into oblivion, without contributing either to their own fame, or to the dignity of succeeding princes.

On why Antoninus was a good emperor:

His reign is marked by the rare advantage of furnishing very few materials for history; which is, indeed, little more than the register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind.

Three other important themes in this chapter, which unfortunately I couldn’t find a pithy phrase to illustrate: 1) the power of the army in backing up the emperors’ power; 2) the importance and urgency of choosing a desigbated successor; 3) a rather unconvincing final passage about the difficulties of fleeing political repression in the Roman Empire (he doesn’t demonstrate that anyone actually cared about their lack of liberty, and totally discounts the neighbouring states where one could take refuge).

The Roman empire as an ideal society, guided by atheist philosophers who allow the populace to pursue their primitive beliefs in a spirit of toleration. Yet as soon as we get into specifics we learn that this is not so: the Druids are suppressed in Gaul, the Egyptian cults banned from Rome – though the latter did not work, as “the zeal of fanaticism prevailed over the cold and feeble efforts of policy.”

Rome succeeds by offering citizenship (eventually) to all its subjects, and by the universality of Latin, though this doesn’t quite work for the stuck-up Greeks or the lazy Arabs. Slavery is a bad thing, but it is difficult to emancipate them.

It is impossible to read this chapter in particular without wondering what Gibbon is telling us about British policies in North America, the Caribbean or India.

On the Roman empire’s population:

The total amount of this imperfect calculation would rise to about one hundred and twenty millions of persons; a degree of population which possibly exceeds that of modern Europe, and forms the most numerous society that has ever been united under the same system of government.

Is that still considered to be true? Surely China had a greater population, even in Gibbon’s time?

Herodes Atticus as exemplary private philanthropist, at least as far as funding buildings goes.

I hadn’t realised that Trajan’s column is the height of the original hill which was dug away to make the Forum! A hell of a lot of earth must have been moved; where did it go, I wonder?

Achievements of the Romans in the spread of agriculture.

Trade with India: I should not have been surprised by the extent of Roman seamanship as described in the previous chapter, since they were sailing to Ceylon at every monsoon.

But at the end of the chapter, after a para about the wonderfulness of the Roman empire, he castigates them for a lack of military courage and for failing to produce any great literature, allowing peace to produce indolence. So it’s not quite as perfect a picture as he appeared to be wanting us to believe at first.

This is essentially scene-setting, but very good scene-setting. I had not realised that Roman fleets circumnavigated Great Britain and went the whole way round the Arabian peninsula. Gibbon praises the Roman empire for its lack of military adventurism beyond its borders, though then takes some delight in describing the conquests of Britain (at some length) and Dacia (more briefly). There is then a lengthy description of the military – the army being concentrated on the European frontier, the Danube and Rhine – and then a gazetteer of the entire empire, which I found pretty clear even without a map (though I admit I know the geography fairly well).

Good quotes:

Why the Romans didn’t want to conquer Scotland:

The masters of the fairest and most wealthy climates of the globe turned with contempt from gloomy hills assailed by the winter tempest, from lakes concealed in a blue mist, and from cold and lonely heaths, over which the deer of the forest were chased by a troop of naked barbarians.

On Croatia and Bosnia in the present day:

the former obeys an Austrian governor, the latter a Turkish pasha; but the whole country is still infested by tribes of barbarians, whose savage independence irregularly marks the doubtful limit of the Christian and Mahometan power.

One of the many attractive features of Librarything is that you can compare your own library with the libraries of famous dead people, including the likes of Thomas Jefferson and Mary Queen of Scots. I score best in comparison with Ernest Hemingway, with whose bookshelves I have the following in common:

Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen
Pride and prejudice by Jane Austen
The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis
The consolation of philosophy by Boethius
The life of Samuel Johnson by James Boswell
The Martian chronicles by Ray Bradbury
The golden apples of the sun by Ray Bradbury
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
The flowering of New England, 1815-1865 by Van Wyck Brooks
Alice’s adventures in Wonderland and through the looking glass by Lewis Carroll
Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes
The riddle of the sands by Erskine Childers
The moonstone by Wilkie Collins
Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi
Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad
The red badge of courage by Stephen Crane (Hemingway: "Tolstoi made the writing of Stephen Crane on the Civil War seem like the brilliant imagining of a sick boy who had never seen war but had only read the battles and chronicles and seen the Brady photographs that I had read and seen at my grandparents’ house." I rather agree.)
The inferno by Dante Alighieri
Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe
Great expectations by Charles Dickens
A tale of two cities by Charles Dickens
David Copperfield by Charles Dickens
Crime & punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
Twenty years after by Alexandre Dumas
Bitter lemons by Lawrence Durrell
Esprit de corps by Lawrence Durrell
Murder in the cathedral by T. S. Eliot
As I lay dying by William Faulkner
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert (Hemingway: "Floubert is a great writer but he only wrote one great book– Bovary– one 1/2 great book L’Education, one damned lousy book Bouvard et Pecuchet.")
Lord of the flies by William Golding
The scarlet letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Notre-Dame de Paris by Victor Hugo
Main street by Sinclair Lewis (Hemingway: "Buddenbrooks is a pretty damned good book. If he were a great writer it would be swell. When you think a book like that was published in 1902 and unknown in English until last year it makes you have even less respect, if you ever had any, for people getting stirred up over Main Street, Babbit and all the books your boy friend Menken [H.L. Mencken] has gotten excited about just because they happen to deal with the much abused Am. Scene.")
Eastern approaches by Fitzroy Maclean
Moby Dick by Herman Melville (Hemingway: “… we have had, in America, skillful writers… It is skillful, marvelously constructed, and it is dead. We have had writers of rhetoric who had the good fortune to find a little, in a chronicle of another man and from voyaging, of how things, actual things, can be, whales for instance, and this knowledge is wrapped in the rhetoric like plums in a pudding. Occasionally it is there, alone unwrapped in pudding, and it is good. This is Melville. But the people who praise it, praise it for the rhetoric which is not important. They put a mystery in which is not there…”)
The seven storey mountain by Thomas Merton
When we were very young by A. A. Milne
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
Apologia pro vita sua by John Henry Newman
Nineteen eighty-four by George Orwell
Swann’s way by Marcel Proust
Within a Budding Grove by Marcel Proust
The Guermantes way by Marcel Proust
Cities of the plain by Marcel Proust
[The Captive appears to be missing, though he also had a complete set in two volumes.]
The sweet cheat gone by Marcel Proust
The catcher in the rye by J. D. Salinger
Memoirs of a fox-hunting man by Siegfried Sassoon
The complete dramatic and poetic works of William Shakespeare
The real Charlotte by E. ΠSomerville
Starling of the White House by Edmund W. Starling
The grapes of wrath by John Steinbeck
The elements of style by William Strunk
Vanity fair by William Makepeace Thackeray
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
War and peace by Leo Tolstoy (Hemingway: “I’ve been reading all the time down here. Turgenieff to me is the greatest writer there ever was. Didn’t write the greatest books, but was the greatest write. That’s only for me of course. Did you ever read short story of his called The Rattle of Wheels? It’s in the 2nd vol. of A Sportsman’s Sketches. War and Peace is the best book I know but imagine what a book it would have been if Turgenieff had written it. Chekov wrote about 6 good stories. But he was an amateur writer. Tolstoi was a prophet. Maupassant was a professional writer, Balzac was a professional writer, Turgenieff was an artist.” – "…Books should be about the people you know, that you know, that you love and hate, not about the poeple you study up about… Then when you have more time read another book called War and Peace by Tolstoi and see how you will have to skip the big Political Thought passages, that he undoubtedly thought were the best things in the book when he wrote it, because they are no longer either true or important, if they ever were more than topical, and see how true and lasting and important the people and the action are. Do not let them deceive you about what a book should be because of what is in the fashion now." – see also his note on The Red Badge of Courage.)
Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope
The adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Put out more flags by Evelyn Waugh
The once and future king by T. H. White
The master by T. H. White
William Heinemann, a memoir by Frederic Whyte
To the lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

A lot of these aren’t very surprising; you would expect Hemingway to be well grounded in the classics. But it’s rather charming to find him also a fan of Ray Bradbury, and also to find some more obscure books that we had in common.

I don’t think (embarrassingly) I’ve ever read a single word of Hemingway, but he features in one of my imminent self-imposed writing assignments, so perhaps I had better start.