House of Leaves --- Mark Z. Danielewski
The book that convinced me a physical object can be genuinely unsettling. I read it with a flashlight, which was a mistake, and finished it in the daylight, which was the correct decision.
Hall Of Fame --- Handle These Titles With Respect
These are the ones I press into people's hands at parties, the ones I've bought as gifts more times than I can count, the ones that rearranged something in my head the first time I read them and never quite put it back the way it was.
The book that convinced me a physical object can be genuinely unsettling. I read it with a flashlight, which was a mistake, and finished it in the daylight, which was the correct decision.
A talking cat, the devil at a Moscow literary party, and a chapter about Pontius Pilate that has no business being as moving as it is. I've reread it every winter for six years running.
A short, strange, quiet book about a man alone in an infinite house full of statues and tides, and somehow the gentlest thing I've ever read about grief and identity. I lend my copy out and always miss it.
Six stories nested inside each other like a Russian doll, jumping from a nineteenth-century ocean voyage to a post-apocalyptic Hawaii. Shouldn't work on paper. Works beautifully in practice.
Want to argue with this list, or add to it? There's no comment section here on purpose --- write me a letter instead, or better yet, read one of these and tell me in person.