Julia Graeper from the Education group is here with some confessions. We know you have some, too!
A shocking thing happened the other day on Twitter: our own Morgan Baden confessed that she has never read Lois Lowry's The Giver.
Emboldened by her confession, and seeking camaraderie, I replied with my own admission: I have never read The Outsiders.
Over the years, I had anxiety when my friends rhapsodized about S.E. Hinton. I smiled enthusiastically but nodded emptily at their casual references to Ponyboy.
Yet even before Morgan forced my hand, I have asked myself: when is the right time to start the book I should have read long ago? Right now, the next title on my reading list is The Goldfinch. (At this point, I feel I can scarcely show my face in public, not having read The Goldfinch.) But after that… should I buckle down and read The Outsiders?
Even though I am certain I will love this book, part of me is paralyzed by the dread of obligation. A bigger part of me feels that if I scratch this itch, so to speak, I’ll never be able to stop. I imagine myself in the near future, self-satisfied, finishing the last page of The Outsiders. Then – a sudden realization: My God, what about A Tree Grows in Brooklyn? Any book by Jane Austen?! Where does it end?
I took a quick poll of some of my most well-read friends, whom I won’t even identify by name as the gaps in their reading lists are so outrageous. But I will tell you there are literate people out there – writers, editors – who have never cracked open Anne of Green Gables, Little House on the Prairie, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe or The Phantom Tollbooth. And while I am now tempted to make increased strategic, conversational references to Prince Edward Island, I also find this knowledge comforting. We’ve all been there, it turns out.
What about you? Which classic book have you never read?
