As a final year English student, I couldn’t even imagine how many books I’ve read over the past 3 years at university, and I feel immensely grateful to have encountered so many different styles, genres, movements and time periods of literature. I could give a long list of favourites, but I’ll limit this article to the best 3. On the other hand, there are also some books that I wish I could have steered clear of for a variety of reasons, a few of which I will also get into below.
The Best
The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson
Being quite a small and simply written book compared to others I’ve read for the course, I assumed at first that Shirley Jackson would be another average read. I can’t quite pinpoint when that changed, but The Haunting of Hill House became my favourite literary encounter on the course and stands up now as one of my all-time favourite reads. The combination of the sinister setting and intriguing and empathetic main character drew me in and never let me go.
Nights at the Circus by Angela Carter
I was already a big fan of Angela Carter before I started studying her; The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories has been one of my favourite books for many years. Though I knew to expect Carter’s flamboyant writing style when I started reading her other books for my course, I was also pleasantly surprised by the wacky plots and genre bends she manages to conjure up in her longer fiction as opposed to only short fairy tales.
The Buddha of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi
After 3 years of English studies, it feels wrong to say that I’m hardly an expert on identifying specific movements or genres of fiction, but I would class The Buddha of Suburbia as a realist text, and I can firmly say that realism has never been something I’ve enjoyed. However, Kureishi’s book was so electrifying in plot, characterisation and language that I was sucked in in a way I’m not usually with realist texts. Thus, The Buddha of Suburbia sits on my ‘best’ list given how it has single-handedly revived my faith in the realist genre.
The Worst
Ulysses by James Joyce
Ulysses seems to be like marmite – you either love it or you hate it – and unfortunately, I was the latter. I confess I found Ulysses so harrowing that I couldn’t come even close to finishing it and could probably live happily without ever attempting it again.
Casino Royale by Ian Fleming
It’s no secret that the James Bond franchise likes to objectify its women. However, having never seen a James Bond film all the way through myself, I was excited to read one of the novels instead. Casino Royale was promising me easy language as well as drama in an enticing setting. I thought, how bad could it possibly be? Well, it was bad, and the raging sexism took away from any excitement of the storyline. Ian Fleming has probably been crossed off my to-read list for the rest of time.
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
Just like James Joyce, Virginia Woolf seems to divide everyone who encounters her. I am truly disappointed by not liking this book as I so desperately wanted to join in the Woolf fan club, but it took me straight back to my younger years where I tried to read The Waves over and over again without ever getting very far through because I had zero clue what was going on. Whilst I was able to grasp the extremely limited plot of To the Lighthouse this time, the unending, relentless sentences weighing up nothing but thoughts, feelings and atmosphere left me feeling dizzy after every single page.
In hindsight, I do believe that if I hadn’t had such a short time period to read all of these books in (given that it’s necessary to read almost 3 full books every week in order to keep up), the “worst” books might have been more enjoyable. Virginia Woolf may not have ended up on the list if I hadn’t had to rush through her in a few days, though that may still be wishful thinking. But over the next few months, I’ll be powering through the remainder of my final term, and will probably have more titles to add to each list by graduation time.