23 Years, 23 Books
Twenty-three books have made me the 23-year-old that I am.
Enid Blyton shaped my imagination at a very young age. My introduction to the “Faraway Tree” series by Enid Blyton was through the third book “The Folk of the Faraway Tree”, which I read for the first time when I was in primary school. I ended up reading the rest of the books in the series when I was an undergrad student. Yet, the wonder and fun that this book brought to my mind remained constant throughout these years. The Faraway Tree series was my introduction to building a fantasy world, and to be precise, the concept of using food as a medium of magic. To this date, I love infusing elements of fantasy into food and creating universes in a refrigerator.
I remember discovering this book on a website, and then reading it because I didn’t have anything else to read (Nerd alert: I used to end up exhausting all the books in any library I subscribed to). When I finished reading about Assam and Darjeeling’s emotional quest to rescue their mom from the underworld, I was eager to know more about Greek mythology. The story was devastatingly beautiful. Though I don’t remember the exact storyline as I write this post, I still end up recommending it to friends who want to start reading Greek Mythology and don’t want to start with the entire Percy Jackson series.
Markus Zusak’s bestselling work was the first proper novel I read. The Book Thief was the perfect book to begin my reading journey as a tween. It did end up setting the bar too high for anything I read after that, though. Yet, I’m glad that the librarian on duty told me to check out this book instead of the other YA Fiction book I thought I wanted to read. My subsequent aim to read as many fictional books set in World War II originated from the masterful storytelling in this book. Lately, I have shifted my focus to reading non-fictional accounts of people who have/had lived to tell the tale of the horrors of the concentration camps. A book I recently read called, “But You Did Not Come Back” by French writer, Marceline Loridan-Ivens, details her time in Auschwitz-Birkenau.
There’s only one way to describe this book: it has more twists and turns than a box of fusilli pasta. I remember how this book completely changed my opinion about writing a mystery. Just like Indian chefs add masala after masala in every step of every dish, Gillian Flynn kept upping the stakes with every chapter. The movie did not do justice to the book, and I’d choose to read the book over and over again any day. Though I have not yet been able to master this level of expertise, I do try to incorporate a simple form of zig-zagging in my free-writing exercises.
The Percy Jackson novels are the potato-potahto version of the original Greek myths. However, Kane Chronicles completely satisfied me in terms of originality and uniqueness while also preserving the essence of the Egyptian gods and goddesses. Moreover, the bond that the two siblings, Carter and Sadie, had has always made for a feel-good read. And of course, Bast. I’ve always imagined myself to be a cat goddess reincarnate (because of the street side cats who always look at me when I pass by them, and meow back at me when I meow at them), and this book did nothing to alleviate those fantasies of mine.
Contrary to the reactions (or the lack of them) to my Instagram posts, Lionel Shriver’s book taught me that it’s okay to write in a stream-of-consciousness way and that a book written in such a style can get a wide audience too. The subject matter of this book - school shootings by students — was expressed in a nuanced way. The book made me think, and I learned to appreciate different points of view. Moreover, I started loving books that posed questions about moral dilemmas. I ended up reading another masterful book by Jodi Picoult on the same topic “Nineteen Minutes”, and then Jodi Picoult went on my auto-buy list for books of this sub-genre.
A word to this wise: don’t read this book if you’re trying to cut back on dessert. I remember hallucinating all the chocolaty delights mentioned in this book, and my chocolate consumption increased by 300% in the week that it took me to savour this book. The movie was a decent adaptation of the book, but unless theatres can recreate the movie by creating a gustatory feeling in the minds of the audience, I won’t be impressed. Or if theatres can serve Vianne Rocher’s handmade chocolates instead of the standard caramel popcorn, that would be something to rave about.
Almost every person I’ve spoken to about Interstellar has told me that art about space opens their eyes to the world beyond the small world we live in. This book is no exception. Ever since I read this book, I was convinced that I wanted to become an astronaut, for the sole purpose of being constantly awestruck by how vast the universe is, and by extension, reminding myself about how varied lived experiences are. I ended up compromising by watching a lot of space-based movies. Apart from my starry-eyed adoration for this lunar profession, I also gained a deeper appreciation of learning life lessons from biographies/memoirs instead of reading self-help books.
When I was 16, I realized that I had completely skipped an entire generation of reading: from Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys, I had jumped straight to Jeffrey Archer and David Baldacci and Dan Brown. So, post junior college, I decided to take a step back and focus on picking up only those books which were part of GoodReads' “Teen Reads”. I was also (a) heartbroken (cliche) at that time, so I found solace in reading stories of love and reunion. However, Jennifer Niven’s book ripped my heart to pieces and stitched it back to make it more beautiful than it ever was before. It was the first time I read a book where both the main characters suffered from depression and yet were on the center stage of a love story. It was also the first time I realized that not every love story deserves, or gets, a happy ending, and sometimes, that’s just fitting.
When I found out that a fellow Libran (born one day before me, hundreds of years ago) was such a celebrated author, my amazement knew no bounds. It was the final push I needed to believe in myself. Moreover, this book is the only classic I will ever love. It was unlike every other classic I’ve read (ahem ahem Jane ahem ahem Austen). The writing was crisp and not long-winded and the emotions and the story remain relevant to this day. In an age where reel ideas and soundtracks are a fleeting fad, Oscar Wilde’s everlasting contribution to literature is beyond priceless.
Susan Cain has taught me that it’s okay to be an introvert, contrary to what adrenaline-fueled extroverts have been constantly telling me all my life. The book, though comforting, was also a teacher in terms of how I can unlock my true potential as an introvert and use my skills to my advantage, instead of considering them to be my weakness. I read this book at exactly the right time in my life: just before losing confidence in myself merely because I don’t do a darned good job of promoting myself 24x7 and right after I had the emotional maturity to look at my flaws under a microscope.
I read this book at an age where I wanted to read more about famous personalities who also suffered from depression and mental health issues. Admittedly, I couldn’t comprehend the entirety of this book when I read it for the first time, and I could have done more justice to the book. I do have random images stuck in my head of places I’ve never been to, thanks to the vivid descriptions by Plath. I think I should read this book every year in February.
Malcolm Gladwell has been my auto-buy writer ever since I found this book in my college library. His way of seamlessly merging examples with thesis is brilliant. I end up forgetting most of the anecdotes and concepts mentioned in books about behavioural economics, which is why I recently started making chapter-wise summarised notes of my recent non-fiction reads in my notebook.
Think Alaskan winters. The next thought on that train is sadness and murder mystery and people running away to start a new life. However, this book changed my perspective about Alaska. It brought out another element that is heavily romanticized in life but is quite nerve-wracking: loneliness, in the mountains. This book was atmospheric, and I think I recommended it to everyone I met when I finished reading the book.
Finding an inanimate thing I could hug every time I finished reading a super-relatable chapter is Gail Honeyman’s gift to humanity. I haven’t tried searching for another book like this yet, majorly because I know every other book I read after this will never make me feel the way I felt when I read Eleanor Oliphant’s story.
People often ask me when was the exact moment I realized I’m a good writer. I tell them that reading this book, and finding similarities between the life story of Stephen King and me made me realize that maybe, just maybe, I have a flair for expressing myself through strings of alphabets. The lessons I learned from this book I have long forgotten, but this feeling of self-confidence in my writing has been buried deep in my brain (sorry for the horror pun).
Vikram Seth’s book about a string quartet awakened in me the desire to focus wholeheartedly on listening to classical music. I started working towards making a playlist for all the violin and cello pieces I loved and sampled a few of the symphonies mentioned in this book too. I haven’t read another Vikram Seth to date, but I think I will continue to associate his work with rosin-polished wood and beautiful music.
No other YA Fiction book has tackled the issues of depression and mental illness in a better way than this book. It’s still the book I recommend to people who liked Jennifer Niven’s All the Bright Places and want to read something in a similar vein.
Four words: OH MY AGATHA CHRISTIE! My introduction to Stuart Turton was through the digital advanced review copy I received. At the time, I was just browsing through the titles online, and the cover looked interesting to me. I picked it up, and remember trying to finish reading this book in one night (I couldn’t, so I ended up glueing the book to my hand and reading it every free minute during the day). I also remember reading the book twice (if you’ve read the book, you’ll know why) and fangirling about it with my best friend and then tweeting to the author and then positively fainting when he replied to me.
When I get old and filthy rich, I’m going to stock up on everything that Anthony Bourdain has ever written. Every cookbook and every non-fiction book. He was one of the rare people who was extremely good at their profession and a pro at writing. Mad respect. His honest voice and no-nonsense way of writing won my heart over. Gordon Ramsay’s “Humble Pie” is a close second in the celebrity-chef-memoir genre.
If you love books about books, this one should be on your “Read” list already! Will Schwalbe writes down his heartfelt memories about his mom, and how reading books together brought them closer during her battle against cancer. I haven’t gotten around to reading the books mentioned in this book, but I hope to someday. Maybe before my 24th birthday?
Never have I ever seen non-fiction merged so beautifully along with myths and folklore and local stories. Reading this book during a pandemic was certainly a delight. It’s the perfect book to gift someone who is a globetrotter and loves everything about winter.
Two words: SHUT UP. I have found my soul sister from another mother, related with every single word that she wrote, love all of her content on Instagram, and have still not met her. It’s my dream to attend one of her live comedy shows and be a part of that magic. And give her a big bear hug and tell her how she’s saved my life.
If you’d like to send Mithila recommendations for books to read before her 24th birthday, please message her on Instagram.
