The Tobacco Road Effect — Or, Can You Read Classics With Fresh Eyes?

As noted previously in this blog, my friend Carole and I have decided to read Weighty Books. After eight months of such reading, I have to wonder if I can read them with as fresh an eye as I would have in my undergraduate days.

I ask this question after finishing Tobacco Road, a relentless story of loss and more loss. Jeeter is beaten down by life and The Man. The last time he tried to farm his land, the rich folk of Augusta stole from him more than his entire profit: it took his desire for success. He would never win, no matter how hard he worked, so it made entire sense that he did not get up off the porch for much.

However, the characters of Tobacco Road were relentless sinners. Holy cow, by God and by Jesus, they were a wicked lot. I don't use those words lightly, but they fit in this case. Even characters who were supposed to be the most spiritually uplifted were fantastically immoral, even by Tobacco Road standards. The ending was as relentless and beaten-down as the rest of the story, and I felt dejected and depressed myself.

However, the more I read, the more it seemed I had read that story before. I had: in many other stories since. However, Tobacco Road was where it all started.

One of the decisions Carole and I made was to read related stories during the six months we focused on a book. For six months we read The Decameron, American Decameron and as much of The Heptameron as we could. (I took a break from the "-Ron Books" and will go back to The Heptameron soon enough.) I am glad, but I also may have to back off on that decision a little: I don't want to lose the magic of the seminal work because it's been hammered to death by other related books.

Along with Tobacco Road, Carole and I will read How Green is Our Valley and The Grapes of Wrath. Will stories be revealed with interesting perspective by three different authors, or will "The Man Gets You Down" theme be driven home with a level of relentlessness only Jeeter could appreciate? I'll keep you apprised.

A Century in Stories: American Decameron

Take a stroll through the twentieth century courtesy of Mark Dunn and his brilliant short story collection, American Decameron.

Based on Giovanni Boccaccio's The Decameron, Dunn tells a story for every year of the century. Every state is represented, as well as at least one location outside the country.

The author suggests only the first and last stories be read in order, and the rest could be read in any order.

I read the stories in chronological order, and I am glad I did. The stories progressed linguistically and tonally: the formality of the language and story tone evolved with the century, as did subjects, which also were very enjoyable.

On the whole, the stories were successful. Some were steeped in history, others were absolutely original. Many were rooted in fact (I plan to search for clues on the more obscure stories). Not all are stories in the traditional sense, and the imaginative approach to storytelling was revolutionary, entertaining and, at times, completely unexpected. A few of the stories seemed a little contrived and token (1982, I'm looking at you).

More than a few of the stories made me cry. A couple of them required me to compose myself after reading them, particularly the post-war stories. I read American Decameron with Carole, and we called each other to see which stories we had read. ("Have you gotten to 1930?" "Oh, my stars, 1948!")

And for the record, 1948 was one of the most moving stories I've ever read. 1903 was imaginative and touching, 1907 had the most delicious twist. 1916 was profoundly heartwarming, 1954 nearly broke my heart.  1926 actually did break my heart.

I also am slowly making my way through the original Decameron. In fact, I plan to re-read American Decameron while reading the Italian story collection. Then, I'll read American Decameron again and again. It's the kind of collection that gives readers something new at every reading. If you are like me, you'll gorge on the stories for as long as your eyes will stay open, then a little longer after that.

I strongly recommend this book, and I can't wait to find out what you think.

Ladies of Letters Take On Weighty Books

Carole and I have taken on Weighty Books, and I think it's going to be fun.

We are members of a book club whose members chat about books online and meets for brunch a few times a year. Each club member chooses a book in turn. This group has helped me read more than a few books I wouldn't otherwise have read, and I've also chosen some good books myself for the club. (I've also chosen a few less-than-successful books, too, but I'm okay with that. You never know until you try, right?)

At a book club conference Carole and I attended in September, Carole had a great idea: read Weighty Books. These are books we always intended to read but, for some reason or another, didn't. At a certain point in life (namely, after college), there are fewer reasons or opportunities to read such books. Don Quixote? Crime and Punishment? Not always at the top of the must-read pile in our everyday world — and yet they are valuable reads.

Weighty books deserve time and attention, so how does a reader squeeze them in with so many other important, valuable or fun books on our shelves? Easy: by trying to bite off as much as we can chew.

Carole and I decided to choose two such books a year (along with, possibly, a related book or two). We made one very important rule: if it's not enjoyable, put it down. Maybe return to it another time, maybe not. No matter what any teacher might have said, not every book deserves to be read.

We chose the following traditional and modern classics for our Weighty Book List:

• Anna Karenina 
• Arabian Nights 
• The Decameron 
• Divine Comedy
• Don Quixote 
• The Human Stain 
• The Hunchback of Notre Dame
• In Search of Lost Time (Remembrance of Things Past) 
• Little Dorrit 
• Midnight's Children 
• Moll Flanders 
• The Monk 
• Norwegian Wood 
• One Hundred Years of Solitude
• Picture of Dorian Gray 
• The Portable Dorothy Parker 
• Portrait of a Lady 
• Sir Gawain and the Green Knight 
• Tobacco Road 
• Woman in White 
• A book by Alexandre Dumas (to be decided)

We had planned to start with Divine Comedy because it inspired so many books on our list (and we both read Dan Brown's related thriller this past summer).

However, a trip to the library introduced an unexpected surprise: The American Decameron by Mark Dunn, a favorite author. When Carole received two copies of Dunn's book for Christmas (one of which she generously shared with me), we re-arranged the list accordingly.

Next on the list: Tobacco Road and Anna Karenina. Probably in that order. Probably. I'll let you know.

Do you have a Weighty Book List, or a list of classic books you want to read? What is it? Let me know.