Harvard Classics vs. trash: guilt-free summer reading

It can be argued that the rhythm of our days has been determined since childhood: eat three meals a day, hit the sack when the sun goes down, and ease up on ourselves in the summertime.  For many people, this is the time to stuff their schoolbooks in closets and basements, and break out the iced tea and Agatha Christie, guilt-free.  Of course, there are also those Alphas lurking among us, nursing fond memories of summer reading lists and antsy to stay on the gerbil wheel.  Regardless, even when school is a thing of the distant past, it can be hard to let go of those seasonal cues. 

So herein lies the battle:

Dr. Eliot’s Five-Foot Shelf (aka the Harvard Classics) vs. Trash. 

Disclaimers: the author cannot claim to have read all (or even half) of the Classics.  Also, please remember that some people’s trash is other people’s treasure.  

Valley of the Dolls vs. the Divine Comedy.

One was written in 1966 by a has-been actress working with obvious first-hand material; the other in the early 1300’s by a love ridden Italian poet with a penchant for overreacting.  Surprisingly, this unlikely pair have a number of similarities.  Valley of the Dolls chronicles three beautiful young women and their descent into the druggy, boozy, sexy Hollywood landslide complete with electric shock treatment and “sleep” diets (mildly intriguing).  Dante's super-long poem also lets us know what hell can be like, and is likewise reported to be influenced by the guilt-laden sins of the author’s life.  However, reading Dolls can be made into an event: rent the movie, crank up the Hole (Courtney Love is a fan, obviously) pop some tic tacs and let the plastic from the lawn chairs stick to your legs.  While the Divine Comedy is an allegory, it’s still about a descent into hell, which is sort of a bummer.  Doesn’t really go well with that vodka spritzer.  

Verdict: Dolls wins.
 

Beowulf vs. any V.C. Andrews novel

You know her as the queen of backwoods princesses, and though the authorship of Beowulf is speculative (as is much of Andrews's work; it has been claimed that all but 8 of her novels were ghostwritten), they both have a history of oral tradition…zing!  In all seriousness, all of  Andrews’s books, while varying certain elements, are almost exactly the same.  There is a young female protagonist; antagonized by the strong family matriarch who is the keeper of the family           fortune/secret/award-winning-potential-money-making recipe, she will invariably develop an intense mutual attraction to a male relative.  Beowulf is also steeped in family entanglements, from getting involved with the Scandinavian royalty who enlist Beowulf to kill the monster Grendel, to Grendel’s mother herself- an antagonizing matriarch of the highest order with the additional advantage of living in an underwater lair.  Both of these choices also come with film options.  Neither are recommended.

Verdict: Beowulf is hard to get through, but if you begin reading V.C Andrews your life will float away.  Beowulf wins.

Aesop’s Fables vs. the Twilight series

Both involve anthropomorphic characters and can come off as preachy.  Both have reached an astoundingly large audience, either through sheer usefulness and longevity or the manic fervor of newly minted estrogen.  However, one involves sexy anthropomorphic characters, which makes this a landslide…

Verdict: Twilight wins.

If you can get through the Harvard Classics, go ahead and pat yourself on the back.  For the rest of us, there's no shame in reaching for Summer Sisters instead of Anna Karenina.