"The 10 Greatest Books of All Time"

[Archaea]

Originally Posted by Cali Coug

I actually liked it a lot too, so much so that I dared to buy Scarlett (only to vomit in my mouth after reading a few pages).

I thought A Tale of Two Cities was one of the best ever. I also liked Uncle Tom's Cabin a lot.

Moby Dick was one of the worst books ever written.

A Tale of Two Cities is marvelous. And the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire thing sucked big time.

[Cali Coug]

I would also have to add:
The Hobbit
The Lord of the Flies
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
Jurassic Park (really captured my imagination)
Huck Finn
The DaVinci Code (what can I say? Very entertaining)
To Kill a Mockingbird
Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH
Treasure Island

[SeattleUte]

Originally Posted by Cali Coug

Moby Dick was one of the worst books ever written.

I bet you haven't read it.

[Cali Coug]

Originally Posted by Archaea

A Tale of Two Cities is marvelous. And the Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire thing sucked big time.

Right on. How did Gibbons ever get that thing published? It was incoherent and long- not a good combination.

And I did read Moby Dick. Why I read it I will never know. A little voice in my head said "It must get better. It HAS to get better." I have since killed that little voice.

Same thing with anything written by Jane Austin. Pride and Prejudice is one of the top 5 most terrible books I have read.

[Archaea]

Originally Posted by Cali Coug

I would also have to add:
The Hobbit
The Lord of the Flies
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
Jurassic Park (really captured my imagination)
Huck Finn
The DaVinci Code (what can I say? Very entertaining)
To Kill a Mockingbird
Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH
Treasure Island

Okay, so I'm a sucker for fantasy as well, and I even like Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game series as well as his Stone Tablets.

Tolkien is also a favorite of mine.

That's why ten is too limiting.

[Detroitdad]

Any list of great books must have Catch-22 on it. I refuse to take any other list seriously.

In addition my list would include:
Don Quixote
Grapes of Wrath
One Flew Over the CUckoo's Nest
Watership Down
Hiroshima

[Cali Coug]

Originally Posted by Detroitdad

Any list of great books must have Catch-22 on it. I refuse to take any other list seriously.

In addition my list would include:
Don Quixote
Grapes of Wrath
One Flew Over the CUckoo's Nest
Watership Down
Hiroshima

I have yet to read any of the books on your list. Guess I need to drop the Revolutionary War biographies for a bit and try to get some culture (though I am making solid progress on my goal of reading a book on each member of the constitutional convention if any such book has been written!).

[Archaea]

Melville has some great lines, but you must wade through too much sea to get to the good stuff.

My advice is to skip the book and watch the film. It's far shorter and better. Usually I love long books. Deride me if you will, but I liked the Potter cliche books.

[BarbaraGordon]

Originally Posted by Detroitdad

Any list of great books must have Catch-22 on it. I refuse to take any other list seriously.

In addition my list would include:
Don Quixote
Grapes of Wrath
One Flew Over the CUckoo's Nest
Watership Down
Hiroshima

Watership Down is a great book.

I don't think I'd argue it for top ten all time, but I love that book.

what criteria are we supposed to be using anyway? did the article say?

[SeattleUte]

My favorite scene from Moby Dick (from Chapter 36):

Vehemently pausing, he cried:-

"What do ye do when ye see a whale, men?"

"Sing out for him!" was the impulsive rejoinder from a score of clubbed voices.

"Good!" cried Ahab, with a wild approval in his tones; observing the hearty animation into which his unexpected question had so magnetically thrown them.

"And what do ye next, men?"

"Lower away, and after him!"

"And what tune is it ye pull to, men?"

"A dead whale or a stove boat!"

More and more strangely and fiercely glad and approving, grew the countenance of the old man at every shout; while the mariners began to gaze curiously at each other, as if marvelling how it was that they themselves became so excited at such seemingly purposeless questions.

But, they were all eagerness again, as Ahab, now half-revolving in his pivot-hole, with one hand reaching high up a shroud, and tightly, almost convulsively grasping it, addressed them thus:-

"All ye mast-headers have before now heard me give orders about a white whale. Look ye! d'ye see this Spanish ounce of gold?"- holding up a broad bright coin to the sun- "it is a sixteen dollar piece, men. D'ye see it? Mr. Starbuck, hand me yon top-maul."

While the mate was getting the hammer, Ahab, without speaking, was slowly rubbing the gold piece against the skirts of his jacket, as if to heighten its lustre, and without using any words was meanwhile lowly humming to himself, producing a sound so strangely muffled and inarticulate that it seemed the mechanical humming of the wheels of his vitality in him.

Receiving the top-maul from Starbuck, he advanced towards the main-mast with the hammer uplifted in one hand, exhibiting the gold with the other, and with a high raised voice exclaiming: "Whosoever of ye raises me a white-headed whale with a wrinkled brow and a crooked jaw; whosoever of ye raises me that white-headed whale, with three holes punctured in his starboard fluke- look ye, whosoever of ye raises me that same white whale, he shall have this gold ounce, my boys!"

"Huzza! huzza!" cried the seamen, as with swinging tarpaulins they hailed the act of nailing the gold to the mast.

"It's a white whale, I say," resumed Ahab, as he threw down the topmaul: "a white whale. Skin your eyes for him, men; look sharp for white water; if ye see but a bubble, sing out."

All this while Tashtego, Daggoo, and Queequeg had looked on with even more intense interest and surprise than the rest, and at the mention of the wrinkled brow and crooked jaw they had started as if each was separately touched by some specific recollection.

"Captain Ahab," said Tashtego, "that white whale must be the same that some call Moby Dick."

"Moby Dick?" shouted Ahab. "Do ye know the white whale then, Tash?"

"Does he fan-tail a little curious, sir, before he goes down?" said the Gay-Header deliberately.

"And has he a curious spout, too," said Daggoo, "very bushy, even for a parmacetty, and mighty quick, Captain Ahab?"

"And he have one, two, three- oh! good many iron in him hide, too, Captain," cried Queequeg disjointedly, "all twiske-tee be-twisk, like him- him-" faltering hard for a word, and screwing his hand round and round as though uncorking a bottle- "like him- him-"

"Corkscrew!" cried Ahab, "aye, Queequeg, the harpoons lie all twisted and wrenched in him; aye, Daggoo, his spout is a big one, like a whole shock of wheat, and white as a pile of our Nantucket wool after the great annual sheep-shearing; aye, Tashtego, and he fan-tails like a split jib in a squall. Death and devils! men, it is Moby Dick ye have seen- Moby Dick- Moby Dick!"

"Captain Ahab," said Starbuck, who, with Stubb and Flask, had thus far been eyeing his superior with increasing surprise, but at last seemed struck with a thought which somewhat explained all the wonder. "Captain Ahab, I have heard of Moby Dick- but it was not Moby Dick that took off thy leg?"

"Who told thee that?" cried Ahab; then pausing, "Aye, Starbuck; aye, my hearties all round; it was Moby Dick that dismasted me; Moby Dick that brought me to this dead stump I stand on now. Aye, aye," he shouted with a terrific, loud, animal sob, like that of a heart-stricken moose; "Aye, aye! it was that accursed white whale that razeed me; made a poor pegging lubber of me for ever and a day!" Then tossing both arms, with measureless imprecations he shouted out: "Aye, aye! and I'll chase him round Good Hope, and round the Horn, and round the Norway Maelstrom, and round perdition's flames before I give him up. And this is what ye have shipped for, men! to chase that white whale on both sides of land, and over all sides of earth, till he spouts black blood and rolls fin out. What say ye, men, will ye splice hands on it, now? I think ye do look brave."

"Aye, aye!" shouted the harpooneers and seamen, running closer to the excited old man: "A sharp eye for the white whale; a sharp lance for Moby Dick!"

"God bless ye," he seemed to half sob and half shout. "God bless ye, men. Steward! go draw the great measure of grog. But what's this long face about, Mr. Starbuck; wilt thou not chase the white whale! art not game for Moby Dick?"

"I am game for his crooked jaw, and for the jaws of Death too, Captain Ahab, if it fairly comes in the way of the business we follow; but I came here to hunt whales, not my commander's vengeance. How many barrels will thy vengeance yield thee even if thou gettest it, Captain Ahab? it will not fetch thee much in our Nantucket market."

"Nantucket market! Hoot! But come closer, Starbuck; thou requirest a little lower layer. If money's to be the measurer, man, and the accountants have computed their great counting-house the globe, by girdling it with guineas, one to every three parts of an inch; then, let me tell thee, that my vengeance will fetch a great premium here!"

"He smites his chest," whispered Stubb, "what's that for? methinks it rings most vast, but hollow."

"Vengeance on a dumb brute!" cried Starbuck, "that simply smote thee from blindest instinct! Madness! To be enraged with a dumb thing, Captain Ahab, seems blasphemous."

"Hark ye yet again- the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event- in the living act, the undoubted deed- there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike though the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough. He tasks me; he heaps me; I see in him outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it. That inscrutable thing is chiefly what I hate; and be the white whale agent, or be the white whale principal, I will wreak that hate upon him. Talk not to me of blasphemy, man; I'd strike the sun if it insulted me. For could the sun do that, then could I do the other; since there is ever a sort of fair play herein, jealousy presiding over all creations. But not my master, man, is even that fair play. Who's over me? Truth hath no confines. Take off thine eye! more intolerable than fiends' glarings is a doltish stare! So, so; thou reddenest and palest; my heat has melted thee to anger-glow. But look ye, Starbuck, what is said in heat, that thing unsays itself. There are men from whom warm words are small indignity. I meant not to incense thee. Let it go. Look! see yonder Turkish cheeks of spotted tawn- living, breathing pictures painted by the sun. The Pagan leopards- the unrecking and unworshipping things, that live; and seek, and give no reasons for the torrid life they feel! The crew, man, the crew! Are they not one and all with Ahab, in this matter of the whale? See Stubb! he laughs! See yonder Chilian! he snorts to think of it. Stand up amid the general hurricane, thy one tost sapling cannot, Starbuck! And what is it? Reckon it. 'Tis but to help strike a fin; no wondrous feat for Starbuck. What is it more? From this one poor hunt, then, the best lance out of all Nantucket, surely he will not hang back, when every foremast-hand has clutched a whetstone. Ah! constrainings seize thee; I see! the billow lifts thee! Speak, but speak!- Aye, aye! thy silence, then, that voices thee. (Aside) Something shot from my dilated nostrils, he has inhaled it in his lungs. Starbuck now is mine; cannot oppose me now, without rebellion."

"God keep me!- keep us all!" murmured Starbuck, lowly.