My favorite books to reread
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. I know, I know. Frankenstein might not seem like a great comfort book, a book that someone would love oh-so-much that they just have to read it every year or every-other-year. But. For me, Frankenstein is one of those wonderfully, beautiful books that just gets better each and every time. I detail this a little in my first post about the book, How I Came To Love A Monster.
Susan Beth Pfeffer's Life As We Knew It. Can such a bleak book truly be a comfort book? I don't know that I call it a comfort book exactly. It's just that every year--since it was first released--I've found myself needing to pick it up again. I crave this book, the intensity of it. You can't not lose yourself in it. You can't help but feel cold and hungry and isolated. I suppose, if nothing else, the book shows you how much you have to be thankful for.
Margaret Mitchell's Gone With The Wind. I'm including this one not because it is my favorite-and-best novel to reread now. But. How can I ignore the seven or eight years of my life where I read this book
Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game. Another 'old friend' I'm including more for the past than the present. It's not that I've stopped liking (or even loving) Ender's Game. I even still have good intentions on rereading it again--rereading the whole series again. But I've just come to like (or love) other books a little more. Or in some cases a lot more!
Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South. A relatively new friend, I know. I've read this one only twice. BUT. If I'm being honest, this one has THE potential to become the chosen one, the one book that I read every year. The kind of book so satisfying it feeds your heart, mind, and soul.
L.M. Montgomery's Anne series. I could pretend that I mean just the first book in the series, Anne of Green Gables. But that wouldn't be the truth, would it? Because, for me, the series as a whole is so wonderful, so charming, so perfectly perfect that I wouldn't dream of stopping at one! No, Anne and I are kindred spirits. (I just hope she doesn't mind how I feel about Gilbert.)
Lois Lowry's The Giver. Was The Giver my first dystopia? It probably was. My memories of 1984 are way too fuzzy to know for sure. Though my memories for 1984 are a different kind of fuzzy from Great Expectations. With Great Expectations, I remember there is a crazy lady with the decaying wedding cake. I remember nothing at all from 1984. Anyway, The Giver was my first dystopia that I LOVED and adored. The one that I thought was the best book ever.
C.S. Lewis' The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I do have opinions on Narnia. How could I not? These are books I have read at least half a dozen times. Of course, my strongest opinion may just be that they should be read in the PROPER ORDER. With none of this nonsense about The Magician's Nephew being first. Really! Seriously! How could anyone think that order makes any sense at all? Anyway, this book is one of those oh-so-magical books for me!
Beverly Cleary's Ramona series. It wasn't a difficult decision to include this series on my list. It was a given. I don't know that I could ever, ever choose just one as my favorite-and-best, but the series as a whole, well, they are just so much FUN to read again and again and again.
Jane Austen. Okay. I can't pick one Jane Austen either. I could eliminate Emma if you'd like. But as for the others, well, I need them all. Persuasion probably is my favorite and best if I had to pick just one. But there is just something so happy-making, so satisfying, so pleasant, so right, about all of her books. And I've discovered that they only improve with rereads. Books that were only okay for me for first time, mean so much more the second time through!!!
© 2011 Becky Laney of Becky's Book Reviews