Books that changed lives: Part 1

June 25, 3:59 PMBirmingham Books ExaminerElizabeth Woodworth

Previous Next

Comment Print Email RSS Subscribe

Subscribe

Get alerts when there is a new article from the Birmingham Books Examiner. Read Examiner.com's terms of use.

Email Address   Include other special offers from Examiner.com Terms of Use

Original cover of The Greek Way (1930) by Edith Hamilton.

One misty, humid afternoon, too hot to even get in the pool, I began to wonder what I would read next, and stumbled into thinking about the books that had moved my friends, or caused them to pause, or changed the way they looked at the world. I knew I had one book, at least, I could write about here, but what else was worthy to share? I wrote this prompt on my Facebook page: “Please tell me about the one book that changed your life or your direction—yes, you have to pick just one. For me it was Great Expectations in 1995.” I heard complaints such as “just one—are you kidding?” But my secret desire was that each respondent would list a book that I loved but which I couldn’t pick since I made the rule: only one.

Instead of a more in-depth review, I wanted to put these seven books on your book-reading radar. May you find joy in all or any of them you choose to read. I make no pretense of summarizing the books here, but I do link to sites with that information. The responses below are arranged in no particular order, but as serendipity would have it, I like the way it all worked out.

Book One: The first of the seven is not fiction, but it is a classic written by an American icon. If you don’t know this man, you should. He splashed into the 20th century publishing scene in such a big way that Winston Churchill wrote a review of his first book. Yes, that Winston Churchill, prime minister of Britain in WWII. Friend One writes: “Mine is Peter Drucker's Managing the Non-Profit Organization (1990). That book validated my impulse to step outside my "safe" and familiar university and corporate environments and try to create something new, from scratch, with the help of people I like and respect. Drucker helped me feel part of an American tradition of activist entrepreneurship. What was most important from my early nonprofit work wasn't so much the organization itself but a heightened awareness of life's possibilities that came from it.”

Well said, Friend One, well said. Drucker was a moving force for me as well—I owned and read Managing for Turbulent Times (1980). Drucker taught me how to think about making decisions (though I must confess to the occasional waffling still). For more by Peter Drucker, mosey around here and here, or check out an interview with him, but no matter what, be sure to check Churchill's review of The End of Economic Man: The Origins of Totalitarianism (1939) written when he was out of office. When Churchill was again elected to manage the country/war, he included Drucker’s book in each officer’s reading kit. It may be a stretch to say that Peter Drucker was a mythological demi-god of business and economic thinking, but to say it just that way does lead into Friend Two’s book, and is not an un-truth exactly (look at the man’s publication history, the prestigious graduate school named after him, and so forth). I may have gone too far to make a connection between Drucker and the ancient Greeks. Alas.

Book Two: The Greeks were a beginning for Western Civilization—not necessarily the only beginning—but a beginning for sure. I can remember reading about Greeks and Romans and being mesmerized by their legacy, explained in many history classes throughout my American education, including a few college classes focused on these worthy ancients. I was given a copy of Sir James Frazer’s The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion when I was too young to understand its importance (I did appreciate its heft), and I later came to respect its content. Edith Hamilton, though, was a much more friendly way into religions/mythologies. I couldn’t agree more with what Friend Two writes: “For me, the first pivotal book in my life is The Greek Way by Edith Hamilton (1930). Having had minimal experience with other religious organizations at that time, The Greek Way opened my understanding of how humankind seeks to create and uphold a belief in a deity to understand the world, a belief that provides guidance for behavior and social constructs. As the years have gone by, The Greek Way continues to influence the way I understand things, from barely disguised written works based on the myths to the more complex social behaviors that are evident in our written and visual works of art. This slim volume also was the instigator towards further studies for me in the realm of ancient religions and the historical interactions between religion and governments.”

Does it make you happy to hear Friend Two’s thoughts? It makes me happy. (And it’s just the first of two books published in 1930 that made it on the list.)

Book Three: William Faulkner. If you cringe or wistfully sigh after reading his name, that says a lot about how you feel about this man. Complex is the minimum adjective you can apply to his works and life. Friend Three writes: “For me, it was William Faulkner's As I Lay Dying (1930). Yep, it's a book that some students read in high school, but I never got to it until I was about 35. It was my left turn.” I get that. I read this book in my mid-twenties and became lost in this crazy world Faulkner had created. For me the outstanding moment in my literary career to that point was Vardaman’s stunning declaration, and the whole of the chapter which contained nothing but this line: “My mother is a fish.” I remember that one moment as succinctly written, and as deeply meaningful, as any I have read. It was the moment I got literary analysis and metaphor. This is also the first book a professor ever gave me—indeed, it may be the only book a professor ever gave me when I was an undergraduate. I didn’t even know they could do that—but he had an extra on his bookshelf and handed it over as if it was the simplest thing in the world. For me, it was some sort of benediction. I went home and read the book right then feeling like I had been invited into a special reading club. Best of all: it's pretty short.

To seal the deal of this book’s pop culture fame, a rock band has taken the name As I Lay Dying. And linked with Friend Two’s book, the title refers to a line in Homer’s Odyssey. (After some time reading, it’s easy to play a literary version of “six degrees of separation” with any book. For instance, Friend One listed Shogun as an important, A#1, cream of the crop, king of the hill, best books ever—see Book Five below.) How can I now segue into Book Four: it's a monumental like a system of myths. Done.

Book Four (really three books but not meant that way): Thank goodness someone mentioned J.R.R. Tolkien. I desperately wanted to include The Lord of the Rings trilogy, but I had already picked Dickens’s Great Expectations. Friend Four—thank you. This was a work I came to long after middle school when all my friends were reading it (I mean twenty years after middle school); I was stunned to find how this became a left turn for me, pushing me to rethink what I loved in a story. I was so mad for these books (I read them collected into one edition) that I read all three, including introduction and appendices, ten times in a row, from August 22, 2003 through February 28, 2005. I read other books in between, to be sure, but I just kept reading this one over and over again. I like to think of the great works that move readers to revise, re-think, re-see their lives as books with great potential for narrative therapy (an actual term with psychological credibility). I cannot name my experience as anything other than that. One Christmas during my time of reading The Lord of the Rings, I think I gave eight or nine copies for gifts. For a long time, the opening page on my browser was the Encyclopedia of Arda site (you must visit if you are an LOTR fan). I suspect this is among the top few greatest books for many readers (first published in the 1950s). Tolkien thought of this trilogy as one book, but the publisher issued them in three volumes, so here we are going with Tolkien’s vision; these only count as one.

Book Five: Shogun: A Novel of Japan by James Clavell captured Friend Five’s attention and kept it—helping her imagine cultures other than her own. Friend Five writes: “I had read lots of other books about people who encountered other cultures—but the Clavell book really made those intercultural encounters come alive for me” (slightly amended to excise a second book—I had to pick one of the two). I, too, found this a wondrous opening into another world for me. (I was actually raised in a Japanese style home with shoji screens separating rooms rather than solid walls and lots of black lacquer furniture with inlaid jade and coral and mother of pearl—so I felt connected to this book in some way.)

I remember carrying around my paperback copy of Shogun with me everywhere I went, reading it at lunch and on breaks, whenever I got a chance, even reading passages aloud to my co-workers from Taiwan and Fiji (I loved living and working in LA—everyone from everywhere in the world could pop up there at any moment—hated the traffic though). I was taken with Japan and remember checking out tons of books on Japan after reading that book and combing the library shelves for books by Japanese authors in translation. I may trace my love of haiku to this book; I couldn’t say for sure, but perhaps some seed was planted by this novel and grew over time into a deep respect and love for haiku (and anything related to Japanese poetry). I had mostly forgotten about this book until Friend One had mentioned it and Friend Five gave it up as a possible number one, and I remembered its impact on me. What would it be like to read this again? Would it stand up to the memories? I’d like to find out, but regardless, it was a great read way back when. And speaking of far eastern cultures...

Book Six: Another non-fiction book that I also read and loved was named by Friend Six: Scared Hoops: Spiritual Lessons by a Hardwood Warrior (1996) by Phil Jackson. Friend Six writes: “Scared Hoops changed the way I went about my chosen profession, changed the way I thought about my spiritual life, and drove home for me the power of believing in your path.” Chapter Three, “If You Meet Buddha in the Lane, Feed Him the Ball” was remarkable for its simple lesson: let great people be great, do whatever needs to be done to let great people be great. How hard is that? If you care to read this book with an open mind, you may find the man is a fine teacher. If you need some management tips, some spiritual tips, some basketball tips, seek enlightenment within the pages of this book, but don't think you need to be a basketball fan to love the book. Friend Six is right on the money—and again, here is another book I forgot about, but it is worth checking out. And this is timely if you follow basketball—Jackson just coached the Los Angeles Lakers to the NBA championship. As a head coach, he’s won more NBA championships than any other coach. Writes a mean book, was a fine athlete, and is a great leader of talented, often volatile, men: nice. (You're waiting for me to make the connection between Phil Jackson and Charles Dickens: both immensely successful in their fields. There.)

Book Seven: For me, the big book is Great Expectations by Charles Dickens (published as a serial in All the Year Round, 1860-61), a turning point, really a turning back to my love of Victorian literature. I had been concentrating on something else when I read this book. I was very ho-hum about it at first, but once I started, I couldn’t stop, literally; I stayed up until I was finished from a Saturday to a Sunday, only dozing now and again before making another pot of coffee or pasta to keep me awake. And so it was that the Victorians took over a part of my life and one Victorian in particular changed how I saw the world. Good thing, too, for this one book made my life full in ways it wasn’t before.

It was a big hit for Dickens when first published, and it’s still a fine book, required reading by many English and history teachers around the world. You have surely seen a film or were forced to read the book in high school. It’s been filmed many times, first in 1917, later filmed in 1946 and then again in the 1990s (to name just a few). I mainly bring these adaptations in order to say that a wicked parody was aired in 2000 on South Park (22.05 minutes of total weirdness including a genesis devise and robot monkeys!). Or if musical versions are more your speed, a recent stage production is out and about.

Everything old is new again: Just because some of these books are relatively old, or just because you’ve read them before, don’t dismiss them. Add them to your summer reading list, or your fall reading list. These books moved people, reaffirmed life choices, changed life directions (became left turns for folks about to turn right), shook up readers, and opened hearts and minds. What else can you expect from a good book?

Stay tuned for Part 2 of "Books that changed lives"! Until then, please email with comments: edwoodworth@gmail.com. Thanks for reading.