What an interesting list. I missed the beginning or into and just plunged into it, thinking as I read what dark selections some of them, and now I see that John Updike did it: hence the Rabbit books. Interesting. No Sinclair Lewis either. Interesting.
I don't see Look Homeword Angel on it. Do you remember when it seemed everybody had to read that thing? And nobody understood it? At least nobody I know understood it. They have reprinted it in a nice new paperback edition and they had it on the sale table at B&N, and thinking perhaps now that I've got all this age (with the "wisdom" that supposedly accompanies it) I'd try it again, I took it home.
I came in to say I am reading the antithesis of Rabbit in The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce. I am absolutely beguiled with this sweet, calm jewel of a book, so far. I'm not very far into it, but it almost defies description. A quiet self effacing man of 65 living in an English village receives a letter about a diagnosis of cancer in an old friend, and resolves, in his quiet way, to finally try to make a difference.
It's a beautiful book, so far. Beautifully written. Have any of you read it? It reminds me, so far, of the documentary about the man who set out from...was it Iowa...to ride a lawnmower to another state to reconcile with his brother...I'm not sure if his brother was ill or what. I'm not sure why he had to drive a lawnmower, either, don't remember the details. That was what he had available, apparently, or he was too old to drive or had no car or license? Can't remember any of that. I do remember the shots of him driving down those long country roads on that lawnmower and the people he met on the way. Sort of a Travels With Charley (Steinbeck) kind of story. It was quixotic and very poetic and that's sort of what Harold Fry is, so far. Opening the pages of the book are like going into a zone of peaceful quiet.
I see also due to the economy they have announced they are closing 380 or so B&N's. That makes no sense to me, you literally can't get IN one here, you can't park. Nobody likes books, right?