Best Reads (and re-reads) of 2010

:::climbs onto soap box, wipes cobwebs from microphone:::

Hello, testing, is this thing on? In this cold weather, it may take a while for the blog-engine to warm up, but I'm gonna give it a try. Anyway...

I've been looking back on what I've read over the past year, and in doing so I'm trying to divine something about my reading tastes/habits that I might not already be aware of. Before I began my MFA program, if you'd asked me what sorts of things I liked to read, one of the lines you'd probably have heard me say was, "I don't like the vast majority of contemporary fiction," or something similar. My idea about what was out there being written, being read, was (in retrospect) a bit narrow, and I've since developed a better sense of what writers are writing, readers are reading, what's more mainstream in the world of literary fiction, what's more experimental, etc. Having had a year and a half now to take in all this, I would like to qualify that earlier position:

Despite a few rare exceptions, I really don't like the vast majority of contemporary fiction.

Thus, if I recommend things I've read over the past year, those that are contemporary are the exceptions that prove the rule. So, without further ado...

Jess' Best Reads (and re-reads) of 2010

• Hopscotch by Julio Cortázar (1966) - a recommendation from one of the authors lower on the list (thanks, Steve!), I love how Cortázar gives readers different paths through the novel, one that focuses on the main character, Horacia Oliveira, another that expands on the lives of other characters and develops entire new plot lines. (Incidentally, I attempted to watch the film Blowup, which is based on a Cortázar short story, but a scratched Netflix disc prevented me from finishing. Am I missing out?)
• The Paris Review Interviews, Vol. I edited by Philip Gourevitch (2006) - The interview series from The Paris Review is perhaps its greatest contribution to literature. Those with Bellow, Borges, and Vonnegut are my absolute favorites.
• The Phantom Tollbooth by Norman Juster (1961) - an unexpected birthday present this year, I recall my 5th grade teacher reading this to our class to get us to calm down after lunch/recess. Like Pixar movies or episodes of Animaniacs, most of the humor in this is best appreciated by adults. I'd love to sit down with the Mathemagician and discuss Edwin Abbott's Flatland.
• Dictionary of the Khazars by Milorad Pavić (1988) - One of my writing professors at Michigan State had me read this when I was a senior, and it's turned into my my favorite novel. I reread it as part of an independent study that focused on Pavić (see the next three books), and I'm more certain than ever that it's a work of genius. A non-linear hypertext with three inter-related, albeit conflicting, narratives (not to mention the two separate editions of the book that are identical but for a few crucial lines of text), what's not to like. Pavić was ahead of his time, and his passing a year ago is a loss that saddens me still. If I spend the rest of my days evangelizing his work, my days will be well spent.
• The Inner Side of the Wind or The Novel of Hero and Leander by Milorad Pavić (1993) - Imagine that Hero and Leander are not separated by a vast body of water but are instead kept apart by time, or by the covers of a book. Pavić's Hero lives in early 20th century Belgrade, his Leander two hundred years earlier. The book is divided in two halves, with two fronts and no back, Hero and Leander meeting in the middle of the text. This is the sort of myth in which I hope to find myself.
• Landscape Painted with Tea by Milorad Pavić (1991) - Dichotomies galore, including a traditional novel vs. a literary crossword puzzle, attachments to locations vs. attachments to people, and dwelling on the past vs. dwelling on the future. After Khazars, this is Pavić's next best novel, and the form is only a small part of what makes it great.
• Second Body by Milorad Pavić - Pavić's last novel is thankfully available on his website in its entirety for free! (Amazon also has a Kindle version you can pay for if you're so inclined.) Free!! If you haven't been convinced to ready any of his printed works by now, take the plunge with this one.
• The Tale that Killed Emily Knorr by Milorad Pavić (2005) - Finding this tiny, delightful book was pure luck, but its pleasure far outweighs its size. I feel comfortable calling this a 40-page novel, and I'm inclined to believe the author would agree.
• Life: A User's Manual by Georges Perec (1987) - Thick Oulipo goodness, full of myriad details and constraints (thanks again, Steve!). While I'm skeptical of Oulipo writing, or at the very least of the idea that "constraint" necessarily enhances the creative process, Perec's novel is nonetheless a success, as he slices the side off the apartment building at 11 Rue Simon-Crubellier, exposing its inhabitants frozen in time.
• The People of Paper by Salvador Plascencia (2005) - I've met a handful of the visiting authors that have come to ND over the last year; most of them have been assholes in one form or another. Not Sal. Talking with him after his on-campus reading as my wife & I drove him to a party where he was the guest of honor, I determined he was decent, thoughtful, and self-deprecatingly humorous. When I finally got around to reading his novel, I was blown away, and I eagerly look forward to his next project.
• The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien (1955) - Okay, I'm hardly the first person to enjoy this, but so what? I was fortunate enough to get to reread this as part of a literature class, and looking at Tolkien with a critical eye has given me a new appreciation for the epic. All shall love it and despair.
• TOC: A New Media Novel by Steve Tomasula (2009) - (This is the Steve I was thanking above. Full disclosure: he's my thesis advisor.) Since I first saw a Kindle, I've been a bit disappointed with ebooks. It's not that I'm so attached to paper and ink that I can't imagine a novel not being in print. No, my disappointment stems from how boring the ebook format has been so far. Considering the things ereader hardware/software is theoretically capable of doing, ebooks are, for the most part, annoyingly similar to their printed counterparts. TOC, beyond being a deep meditation on the concept of Time, gives readers an image of a better ebook, one that integrates the gamut of digital media, one that cleaves more closely to software than mere data. I'm not saying that all ebooks should look like this, just that more should strive to be something beyond digital versions of printed books.