My Foundational Texts
One of the long time blogs I follow is Jason Kottke's kottke.org. Every day it brings me things that are at least interesting, if not entertaining and informative. A few days ago, it brought me one that made me think.
If you've known me for any length of time, it's likely that you heard me talk about whatever book I've recently read. It's just kind of my jam to talk about what I'm reading right now. It's how I destress. It's how I learn. It's how I laugh. Some people watch TV, others exercise, some eat, but I consume books.
What made this particular blog post so interesting was the concept of 'personal foundational texts' and wow, does this idea hit home. Yes, there are a countless number of books that I enjoyed, many more that I loved, but there are a small number which really mean something to me. Books that had if not a personal transformation moment to me, then at least were there to influence or see me thru some new phase of my life. So I decided to do what Jason did and think through what books really made a difference to me. Without further introduction, here is my list and why for each of them.
The works of fiction
The Bible. I grew up in a Christian household, where we went to church three times a week, and we believed what we were told. No, it wasn't one of the crazy churches, but it was a place I now regard as one of fantasy, where we tell each other that these made up stories actually mean something.
And sometimes they do mean something! We're humans after all, and giving meaning to meaningless things is simply part of what it means to be human. This was the book that gave a pre-made meaning to my young and impressionable self. By far this was the first book which made an impression on me. It contained characters I learned life lessons from, some good and most definitely not. For many years, the characters in these stories were ones, usually the better ones, for whom I would try to emulate with my life. Its hard to not look at a list of influential books from my life and not start with the one that came to me first.
Homeland by R.A. Salvatore. At the age of 16, a friend of mine handed me this book, and from then on, my world was forever changed. Prior to that moment, reading was a boring task which I would do anything to avoid. Never in my life did I believe that works of fiction could unlock complete other worlds for my mind. The story isn't anything amazing to today's readers, but at the time it came out, it was an early entrant in the wold of modern high fantasy. There are currently 33 books in the series, and I've read them all, several many times over. This was the book which exposed me to a genre I did not know existed, and kicked off my reading habit.
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. Where the last one opened my eyes to the idea of other worlds, this one hooked me. There was just something about Adams' writing, the way in which you never quite knew where this sentence was going, that draws a reader in and keeps them there. He just knew how to give characters a real voice, one that resonated with the reader, making absurd situations feel like they could be real. This was also my first exploration into the worlds of farce and the absurd, which I promptly lost myself in for many years. This series is likely one of the ones I've reread the most in my life, with only one series I've read more...
The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan. ...and this is that series. The first 5 books in the series I have easily read 15 times each, with even the worst book in the series, Winter's Heart, is one I have read 3 times. No, Jordan did not create the epic fantasy, but he did bring it to a new level with these 13 books. I hate that he did not live long enough to write every word in the series, as he deserved to see it done. What this series taught me was that even if something isn't counted as a literary masterpiece, it can still leaving a lasting impression and be beloved by readers all over the world. To many my age, this is the work that defined building the impossible, as with well over 1,000 named characters and books that needed new binding techniques created just to print them, it seemed as if the impossible was made possible by this series.
The Black Company by Glen Cook. Until my mid-20s, pretty much everything I read was either funny or heroic, until Glen Cook came along to smear everything with a liberal coating of dirt and grease. Other series had evil characters, maybe even ones you still kind of liked, but this was the first series I read where nearly every character was just... gross. Yet somehow, you can't help but liking them all and wanting to go hang out just to watch their antics. By the end, you really want them to win, even though you know that is the wrong outcome. Here the lesson was, not everyone is good, but that doesn't mean that someone's story can't be good.
Old Man's War by John Scalzi. Despite the last pick and this one, military fantasy isn't something which I read much of. The glorification of guns and violence, which many authors take to absurd, performative levels, is a turn off to me. What draws me in to fiction is to escape the mundane and depressing world around me, so when the place depicted is one that is worse than the one being escaped from, that is a serious turn-off. Yet this one was something different; it was a story that was about a military, but one that had heart and lightness woven within all the pain and brokenness. It also had an underlying sense of not taking itself too seriously, because come on, this is a work of fiction. Scalzi has proven to be an author who has honed a style of being able to discuss heavy situations, yet do so with a light touch that makes the reader want to keep going. Not everything that is sad must be depressing; it can be painted on a backdrop of warmth and light.
The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. Much of science fiction and fantasy is caught up with world-building, where the author has an interesting concept for a world, then they write a basic story as a framework to tell the reader about the cool world they thought up. What draws me in though is the story that is being told, especially if that story is as this one, where it is written beautifully. Rothfuss is an author who created a unique world, populated it with characters of depth, but then used the most beautiful words to tell about everything he dreamed up. Critics rightly call out fiction writers for churning out slop, but never Rothfuss. This book should be in literary fiction, not sci-fi/fantasy.
Non-fiction
While the majority of my reading is done for pleasure, I do tend to read a significant number of non-fiction works as well. Many of these are ones that I read during graduate school, but that have stuck with me thru the years, teaching me things I could not learn in the classroom alone.
Good to Great by Jim Collins. Likely the one book you have heard of on this list, it has become a classic business book. Maybe the classic business book. Despite having two business degrees, I've never been a great traditional business person, having kept myself on the technology side of the house as that interests me far more. Yet this book still had a lot to teach me about how and why I should think about building technology. The lessons taught in this book, while taken from a business world, are largely applicable to anything you want to build, in any realm of your life. Here is where I learned what principles go into making something great, but more importantly, it showed me that it's ok to want to build something great. Until this book, building something, much less something great, was not something that was even under consideration.
The Elusive Quest for Growth by William R. Easterly. My college years were spent in eastern Kentucky, in a relatively impoverished area. My childhood years were spent in a mostly rural county, where many of my fellow classmates were living below the poverty line. Despite that proximity to the one part of the US that was closest to a third world country, my sheltered upbringing didn't give me the context to really think about that in a systemic way. This was the book that taught me poverty was a systemic problem, one that we did not have to endure, if we decided we as a society decided we did not want it. It was also the book that opened my eyes to the United States' reprehensible history of forcing others into poverty to enrich ourselves.
The Kingdom of God is a Party by Tony Campolo. Despite growing up going to church so often, most of the time, it was a drag. The services were boring, but it was the sense of shared purpose that excited me. What if there was a different model for church, one that made it a party and not a funeral? Even organizations which are lacking in hope and joy, can be reformed into ones that are vibrant and encouraging, and this book gave me a blueprint for what that could be. While I don't believe in the theological underpinnings of the book, the concepts of a dynamic group of people brought together to celebrate, are ones that I still believe could change the world.
Talking from 9 to 5 by Deborah Tannen. What was likely my most transformational graduate school class was Men and Women in Management. Not because of anything that was taught, but because it led me to choose this book for an essay assignment. I grew up in a family of strong women, and in a rare church which not just allowed but encouraged women to be in positions of leadership. For me, I didn't understand why anyone would have a problem with a woman in a position of leadership, even though I knew it was a rare thing to see one in most parts of society. This book more than any other gave me the language and the insights of why our society has failed half its members, and things I could do personally to help change that.
Mindsight by Daniel J. Siegel. This one I saved for last, not only because it is the most recent one to make this list, but also, because it is the one that was most personally transformational to me. From the time I was a teenager into my early 40s, I lived with constant anxiety and recurring depression. Despite knowing that these were real disorders, I did not understand what they were nor that I was someone who had them. When that diagnosis came, this is the book that, more than anything else, taught me that change was possible, and how to become a new person. It outlined what was going on inside my head, at a biological level, and explained in simple terms what to change in order to become a healthy person. No, it never goes away, it will always be part of who I am, yet these things no longer determine who I am as they once did. This book truly remade me, after a whole lot of work on my part to implement its lessons. I do not know where I would be today without this book.
Wrong Paths Taken
Not every book resonates with every person, and in my life, there have been a lot that I just could not read. Most of my books now come from trusted sources, where they know me and what I like, so finding myself reading a book that I do not click with is a rare moment in my life. Yet, that was not always the case. None of these are bad books, most are great, but they were not great for me.
White Fang by Jack London. My mother was a middle school English teacher, so she felt it was only right that I get my start reading the classics. Wow, was that ever a bad idea. It is the one thing that turned me off from wanting to read, and this book was the poster child for books I hated growing up. This isn't a bad book; it's an absolute classic. Its setting and story were also entirely foreign to a suburban kid living a sheltered life in a rural town. The gulf between what you need to know for this to grab you and where I was as a human at this point, was simply too great.
Thomas Hardy. High school English class was absolute torture to me, and only became worse as a junior, when I found books that I would enjoy. My evenings and weekends were spent immersed in stories that were gripping, when everything I was forced to consume during the weekdays was misery. It was again the context situation, where had I been encouraged to read something for which I had an affinity, I likely would have felt quite different about reading as a skill. Nothing more exhibited this disconnect than my attempt to read Thomas Hardy for an assignment. I to this day do not know how I finished that book report, because I most definitely did not read that book. Which book it was I cannot remember, as it was so bad, I blocked it out. Despite our sharing a family name, we do not share anything else.
Pamela by Samuel Richardson. There are some things which are so bad you block them out, but others which are so bad, you cannot forget even then. The word 'shame' is forever branded in my mind by this book, and the countless number of times that the titular character made use of it. I am entirely aware that its use in that way was a good part of the point, yet that point felt as if it was being driven thru my eyeballs and out the backside of my skull, like a hot knife.
Your turn
So what's on your list?