rankings

Unnecessary Rankings! Stella Gibbons

StuckinaBook All , 19 Comments

My ‘Unnecessary Rankings!‘ series have quickly become my favourite blog posts to write, and I love reading your comments – sometimes in agreement, but usually not, and that’s the most fun. Of all the authors I’ve done so far, Stella Gibbons has the widest range – i.e. some of her novels are all-time favourites, and some are unbearable trash.

As I put this together, I realised I’d read fewer than I thought – and she was very prolific. So it’s only ranking eight of her 30 or so books. Let’s treat this more of a way to find out what I SHOULD be reading… recommendations, please.

8. Beside the Pearly Water (1954)
This feels like one of the worst books I’ve ever read, let alone Gibbons’ worst. It’s based on an idea that doesn’t make any sense and is worked out with frustrating stupidity. An attempt to stay up-to-date that truly didn’t work.

7. Here Be Dragons (1956)
There are elements of Here Be Dragons that I really enjoyed, particularly the heroine getting a job in a café and seeing that world – but the rest didn’t arrest my attention particularly. A theme I’ll return to is that Gibbons is fantastic in general but very bad at romance storylines.

6. Nightingale Wood (1938)
A lovely Cinderella-style story that reminded me quite a lot of the scenes from I Capture the Castle where Cassandra and her family visit their rich neighbours. The individual characters haven’t stayed with me, but the atmosphere has.

5. Bassett (1934)
The first half of this novel is absolutely sublime – two incompatible spinsters decide to set up a boarding house together. It’s hilarious, and just the right side of outright farce. I lapped it up. And then… the second half weirdly transfers to a love triangle between three very tedious young neighbours. Apparently that half is autobiographical, and it is not at all interesting – Bassett is so high because the first half is so delightful.

4. Westwood (1946)
Gibbons in slightly more poignant mode – the introduction to my edition, by Lynne Truss, says: “If Cold Comfort Farm is Gibbons’ Pride and Prejudice then Westwood is her Persuasion.” I think that’s a very astute observation – the humour is still there, but this is a more sombre, heartfelt novel.

3. Enbury Heath (1935)
I’ll race to any novel about house moves, and the first third of Enbury Heath is about siblings setting up a little cottage together with a small inheritance – and jettisoning the advice of their pestering aunts and uncles. The rest of the novel didn’t quite match that high for me, but I really enjoyed my time with this one.

2. Miss Linsey and Pa (1936)
Gosh, I love this book! Miss Linsey and her dad move to be near relatives but aren’t welcomed in their home – so move to a horrible flat in a run-down building. Miss Linsey works in the home of some thinly-disguised Bloomsbury types, and Gibbons has great fun mocking them. The whole cast of characters are wonderful, and I think it’s Gibbons’ greatest success at combining pacing, humour, and pathos.

1. Cold Comfort Farm (1932)
I think Gibbons is a good example of the most famous book also being the best. Cold Comfort Farm is such a tour de force, quite unlike any of her other books, and she fuses the madcap cast of characters with endless energy – whether they are bitter, annoying, good-intentioned or witless. Having Flora as the breezy, unsentimental outsider is perfect. Unmatched and unmatchable.

Unnecessary Rankings! Jane Austen

StuckinaBook All , 38 Comments

It’s actually surprising that it’s taken me this long to rank Jane Austen in my Unnecessary Rankings series. Because surely we’ve all had this conversation with fellow Austenites at some point?

It’s probably also the one that gets most controversial. But here we go…

8. Mansfield Park
It’s the novel that is most like her contemporaries’ novels, and it is comfortably the most boring. It’s too long and baggy, Fanny and Edmund scarcely scintillate, and it’s telling that nobody has managed to make a convincing adaptation for screen.

7. Collected Letters
Who knows what gems Cassandra burned, but beyond the few much-quoted bits from these letters, it’s all rather unrevealing and unexciting. And even the most quoted bits, like ‘two inches of ivory’, are clearly ironic and have often been used out of context.

6. Juvenilia / unfinished works
I’ve grouped all these together because I can’t really remember what I thought of Lady Susan vs The Watsons vs Sanditon vs Love and Freindship etc. Her early work shows an astonishing confidence at satire, and the unfinished works are fun without being fulfilling.

5. Persuasion
A lot of people put Persuasion at the top of their list, and there’s certainly a touching romance to the spinster-on-the-shelf Anne (who is all of 27) and the love she thought she’d lost forever. The reason it’s not very high on my list is that it’s her least funny book, in my opinion, and I read Austen at least as much for the humour as the character development.

4. Northanger Abbey
Austen’s lightest novel leans heavily on subverting stereotypes of the Gothic genre, but there’s a lot to enjoy even if we aren’t buried deep in the works of Ann Radcliffe. It’s silly, fresh, and surprisingly mentions baseball.

3. Emma
People who dislike Emma usually give the reason that she’s an annoying snob. Like, yes, that’s the point? And we love her nonetheless? The only one of Austen’s heroines who is independently wealthy, Emma is a fascinating study in being unobservant and delusional while also thinking she knows everyone deeply.

2. Sense and Sensibility
There’s a simple reason that I love Sense and Sensibility so much: it’s hilarious. Yes, I am moved by the story of Elinor and Marianne – but I come back to the book for Mr and Mrs Palmer.

1. Pride and Prejudice
There’s a reason it’s the most adapted one, and perhaps the story that comes to mind first when the average person thinks of Jane Austen. Elizabeth Bennet is the perfect heroine, and her journey to self-knowledge is exquisite – and that’s before we get to the enormous number of incredible supporting characters. Austen doesn’t always get credit for the detail and brilliance of her plotting, and I think it’s best displayed in Pride and Prejudice.

Unnecessary Rankings! Shirley Jackson

StuckinaBook All , 10 Comments

I try to stick to writers I’ve read most or all of, for these unnecesary rankings – so how has it taken me this long to include Shirley Jackson? Join me as I rank all her books, as I am a Jackson completist – and, as ever, let me know why I’m wrong (or right!) You can see the rest of the rankings I’ve done on the rankings tag.

9. Collected short stories

Is ‘The Lottery’ how Jackson is still best-known? It’s certainly a classic story for a reason, and I think several generations of American schoolchildren probably have read it. Jackson is an example of a writer who never published a bad book – so I’ve put her short stories even though I like them. I just think she’s better when she has more space for a sustained sense of atmosphere – whether foreboding or funny.

8. The Road Through the Wall (1948)

Jackson’s debut novel – and you’ll begin to sense a theme, in terms of my order closely reflecting publication order. The Road Through The Wall is about Pepper Street and its younger inhabitants – as well as the ‘threat’ of the lower classes nearby. From the outset, Jackson was great at weird, but she walks a tightrope between weird and vague. I like this novel, but it doesn’t have the clarity she later mastered.

7. Hangsaman (1951)

More of the above, really! Natalie is heading off to college, and her unhappiness and oppression from her father dominate her life – to the point where she sometimes seems to be in almost a fugue state. A sexual assault early in the novel leaves her more confused than ever, and the novel has a dark dream quality to it as she becomes dependent on a student called Tony. A very good, rather baffling, novel.

6. The Bird’s Nest (1954)

Very ahead of its time in a depiction of dissociative identity disorder – you can hopefully forgive some of its inaccuracies because it was written long before the condition was even medically recognised. The ‘characters’ Elizabeth/Lizzy/Betsy/Beth are well-handled, and it’s a fascinating work.

5. The Haunting of Hill House (1959)

Onto one of Jackson’s best-known books, and probably the closest she got to all-out horror – I still love it, even as a wimp and someone who never reads horror. A group come to Hill House to determine whether or not it is haunted. I love Jackson’s playfulness with the architecture of the house (nothing is quite a right angle, so you’re never quite where you think in relation to other places) and those who’ve read it won’t forget the hand in the bed.

4. Raising Demons (1957)
3. Life Among the Savages (1953)

Number 3 and 4 could go either way around – Jackson’s preoccupation with the enclosure of domestic spaces can also come out in humour! These autobiographical books about life as a wife and mother are hysterically funny – very Provincial Lady-esque. Some see the darkness of Jackson’s agoraphobia below the surface. Perhaps it’s there, but you can also enjoy these as comic domestic memoirs par excellence.

2. We Have Always Lived in the Castle (1962)

My first experience with Jackson, and I was captivated from the first paragraph – where Merricat walks to the local high street and feels herself observed and judged by the townsfolk. Almost all her family have died in a recent poisoning, and the remaining few (including Merricat’s sister) live there in strange isolation. Sidenote: one of the best titles ever.

1. The Sundial (1958)

My favourite Jackson is up there with my favourite books – and breaks my ‘every non-memoir novel in chronological order’ ranking! The residents and visitors of Halloran house are the only ones who will be spared in the forthcoming apocalypse. Jackson’s masterstroke is to make the (enjoyable awful) characters not really care about this. They continue their petty squabbling, even while the world is ending. It’s the perfect combination of Jackson’s humour and gothic strands – and that’s why it’s my favourite.

What about you? How would you rank Jackson’s books?

Unnecessary Rankings! R.C. Sherriff

StuckinaBook All , 32 Comments

It was my birthday yesterday and I’ll my bookish gifts at some point (it will surprise nobody to know I got a few), but for today let’s do some more Unnecessary Ranking! This time I’ve picked R.C. Sherriff – famous initially for Journey’s End (which I haven’t read or seen) but brought back more broadly by reprints from Persephone Books. He isn’t the most prolific writer, and I haven’t read all of his novels, so it’s not the longest list.

As ever, I’d love to know your own rankings…

6. Chedworth (1944)

The only book of his that I wouldn’t consider a success. Wing Commander Derek Chedworth marries a vaudeville dancer and she comes to live at his ancestral home – a promising premise that never really comes off. Sherriff is usually so brilliant at character, setting, and pace – so I don’t know why Chedworth fell flat.

5. The Hopkin’s Manuscript (1939)

All his other books (that I’ve read) are brilliant, so don’t read this low ranking as a negative. It’s a very domestic spin on an apocalypse, and the only reason I prefer other Sherriff novels is that this has a science fiction starting point that isn’t necessarily my most-loved genre.

4. The Fortnight in September (1931)

When I first read this, I wouldn’t have believed there’d be three Sherriff books I’d like even more – because it is sheer perfection, on its own terms. A family plan for, and then take, their annual holiday to the seaside. The family are growing up, and their usual lodgings are growing old. An astonishingly good book about nothing and everything.

3. The Wells of St. Mary’s (1962)

If The Hopkins Manuscript isn’t my favourite genre, then The Wells of St. Mary’s is – the domestic novel that incorporates the fantastic. Or does it? When some abandoned wells start curing people’s illnesses, it becomes a huge tourist attractions. The reader is left trying to work out how much is magical…

2. No Leading Lady (1968)

R.C. Sherriff’s autobiography is that rare example of an author really telling you about their craft, in delightful detail. Half the book is about the genesis, writing, production, success, and aftermath of his break-out play Journey’s End. He glosses over his private life, and even some of his work, but I’ve read very few autobiographies that I enjoyed anywhere near as much.

1. Greengates (1936)

The most similar to The Fortnight in September, in terms of being a narrow lens on a very domestic set up. When Mr Baldwin retires, he and his wife decide to move to a new housing estate – and this gentle novel is simply about that process. In almost any author’s hands it would be nothing – in Sherriff’s, it is a masterpiece.

I’d love to hear your Sherriff rankings, or which of his books you’d like to try next!

Unnecessary Rankings! Barbara Comyns

StuckinaBook All , 28 Comments

I’m back with two of my favourite things – ranking, and needlessness! I have lots of fun with this occasional series of ranking the works of authors I’ve read a fair bit by – and by seeing how much you do or don’t agree. So far I’ve done Michael Cunningham, Elizabeth von Arnim, and Margery Sharp (click the ‘rankings‘ tag up the top to see them all) and today I’m back with an author beloved by the blogosphere.

I don’t know how well known Barbara Comyns is in the wider world, though certainly there have been some lovely reprints in recent years. But in the bookish corner of the internet, she is practically a patron saint. There is one of her novels I’ve not read (A Touch of Mistletoe) because I can’t face the idea of running out. But here are her other books, in order…

10. Birds in Tiny Cages (1964)

This is a case of ‘the hardest one to find isn’t the best’, in my opinion. Based in Spain, with a very Comyns-like lead character in the naïve Flora, it’s still good. But I think Comyns is better when she can make more of English eccentricity.

9. Out of the Red, Into the Blue (1960)

And the same thing affects this – Comyns’ only memoir, about her time in Spain. It’s still entertaining, but misses a bit of the magic of her best work.

8. The Juniper Tree (1985)

When Virago started reprinting Comyns’ novels as Modern Classics, she turned her hand to writing again – or, rather, dug out some books that she’d written in the past. I’m not sure when The Juniper Tree was written, but the reason I’ve put it lower is that it’s a retelling of a fairy tale that I hadn’t heard of, so I missed a lot of nuance.

7. The House of Dolls (1989)

You’ll have noticed I’ve grouped her three later-published novels, and I do think they’re not quite her best – which is a shame, because The House of Dolls is set in a boarding house, and you know how I love them. Being Comyns, the old women in this novel have not settled down to a life of calm routine. Quite the opposite.

6. Mr Fox (1987) 

Mr Fox is a wartime spiv who lives with another typical Comyns heroine – the hopeful, muddled, surreal Caroline. Comyns is great on the countryside, but in this novel she does London excellently too. The best of her later-published books, in my opinion, and that’s perhaps because she apparently wrote it in the 1940s.

5. Sisters By A River (1947)

Comyns’ first novel is heavily autobiographical about growing up in an eccentric family by the Avon in Warwickshire. I might put it higher, but the misspellings and poor grammar (while apparently genuine) feel a bit gimmicky. In later novels, she kept the naivety without needing the gimmick.

4. Our Spoons Came From Woolworths (1950)

For a while this was her best-known novel, perhaps because of that excellent title, though it seems to have been superseded now. It’s a novel of chaotic young married life, including some deeply poignant moments dealt with matter-of-factly – the first of hers I read, I was bewildered more than anything. I need to revisit.

3. The Vet’s Daughter (1959)

And perhaps this is her best-known novel now? The vet of the title is a monstrously selfish man, domineering over young Alice’s life. It’s Comyns’ darkest book, yet with the same surreal humour that she can never leave behind. An ending unlike any of her other works, which dips into fantasy in the most brilliant way.

2. The Skin Chairs (1962)

Yes, there are chairs and they are made of human skin. But that’s just one bizarre piece of the mosaic of ten-year-old Frances’s life. I think this is Comyns at her most assuredly unhinged. I wish it could be reprinted, but publishers have shied away from those chairs (and particularly the race implications about them).

1. Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead (1954)

My favourite opening line from any novel is “The ducks swam through the drawing-room windows.” So compelling – and combining the surreal and domestic in a way that is quintessentially Comyns. This funny, strange novel (title quoting a Longfellow poem) is about a village which is simultaneously struck by flooding and an apparent outbreak of madness – all ruled over by the extraordinary and indomitable Grandmother Willoweed.

Comyns fans – do you agree with my rankings? How would you order her books? And where do you think A Touch of Mistletoe will end up on my list, when I finally read it?

Unnecessary Rankings! Margery Sharp

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Another in my Unnecessary Rankings series – and another of my favourite authors (and one that so much of the book blogging world loves too). I haven’t read everything by Margery Sharp by any means, but here are the 12 that I have read. And they are, of course, RANKED.

I’d love to know which you’d put top of your list, or if my rankings provoke any reaction.

12. The Nymph and the Nobleman (1932)

There’s nothing wrong with this book, and I believe it attracts fans of Anna Zinkeisen’s artwork, but it’s only 75 pages of wide margins and big text. It’s basically a fairy tale short story.

11. Lise Lillywhite (1951)

I don’t dislike this novel (I like all of Sharp’s books), but I found Lise quite a passive, uninteresting heroine and the love triangle she finds herself in between a distant relative and a Polish count a bit lacklustre. But I did enjoy all the relentless pursuit for nylons!

10. The Flowering Thorn (1934)

People often list this story of Lesley impetuously adopting a young boy among their favourite Sharps… for me, it doesn’t have the joy or wit of my favourite Sharps. It’s also curious how the boy (Pat) is so sketchily drawn and scarcely seems to have any relationship with his adoptive mother.

9. In Pious Memory (1967)

A late, short Sharp novel, In Pious Memory is about the death of Mr Prelude – and then his family wondering that he might in fact still be alive. Even late in her career, Sharp is delightfully witty and pulls the rug from under the feet of anybody with pretensions.

8. The Eye of Love (1957)

If I’m honest, I’ve just put this here because I don’t remember very much about it. Looking back at my review, it is about a couple breaking up because of their disparate stations. Dolores’s niece Martha is an impassive viewer of the central couple, used devastatingly by Sharp. I think this would be higher if I re-read it – and I need to read the others in the Martha trilogy.

7. Britannia Mews (1946)

This is Sharp in most sombre mode. We follow all of Adelaide Culver’s long life living in Britannia Mews, exiled by her family after an elopement. Over the decades that follow, we watch the streets changing fortunes and Adelaide’s evolution from a young, naive girl into someone worn down her experiences. It is a very good but surprisingly melancholy book.

6. The Foolish Gentlewoman (1948)

My first experience with Sharp – back in 2003 – after seeing it mentioned glowingly in an edition of P.G. Wodehouse letters. A wealthy widow hears a sermon about the need to expiate old sins, and tries to do so my inviting a relative, Tilly, to live with her – where a motley crew of others already live. Sharp has great fun with this fable of good turns not always working out well.

5. Four Gardens (1935)

There’s a lot to love in Four Gardens, which takes us through the life of Caroline Smith through the four gardens she develops in her life. She is a lovable, wise character and this novel is witty but also Sharp at her most poignant.

4. The Nutmeg Tree (1937)

…whereas there is nothing poignant about the irrepressible Julia and this delight of a novel. In the glorious opening scene she is in the bath to avoid bailiffs, and that’s about the most conventional thing she does. She decides she should go and see her abandoned daughter, now on the brink of adulthood, and causes well-meaning chaos as she does so. It’s a joyful novel, with a lot more nuance than you might imagine.

3. The Gipsy in the Parlour (1954)

Sharp’s novels can be very silly or very serious, and The Gipsy in the Parlour falls towards the serious end of the scale – she is absolutely brilliant at atmosphere too. The young narrator is a niece to the Sylvester family and spends her summers at their Devon farm. Over the years, she sees shifting dynamics in the family – and how everything shifts when Fanny marries into the family and very soon becomes a permanent invalid. It’s quite dark and very, very good.

2. The Stone of Chastity (1940)

But I also love Sharp when she is being ridiculous. The Stone of Chastity is about a scientist who believes he has found a village which had a stepping stone which unchaste women would slip off. And doesn’t see why he shouldn’t interview the village about their chastity, for an experiment. It’s so silly and I loved every second.

1. Cluny Brown (1944)

I think this novel might well be number one because it’s where I first fell head over heels for Sharp – if I’d read The Nutmeg Tree first, it could have made number one. Because it was the first time I discovered what Sharp could create, in terms of a lively, well-meaning, disastrous heroine. Cluny is often told by her uncle that she ‘doesn’t know her place’, and so he puts her in service as a maid in Devon. She is naturally ill-suited to it, and it’s through this comic lens that we also take in the rest of the house – from a Polish intellectual to Betty, a woman every man is besotted with and who remains unmoved by these attentions. Lady Carmel is wonderful. As I wrote in my review, ‘She manages the household beautifully. Everybody thinks her sweet and ineffectual, whereas she is sweet and effectual.’

There we have it! I’d love to know your rankings. And, for the avoidance of doubt – if I haven’t mentioned it, I haven’t read it.

Unnecessary Rankings! Elizabeth von Arnim

StuckinaBook All , 44 Comments

I’m continuing my series on ranking all the books I’ve read by authors I like – I kicked off with Michael Cunningham, and now I’m onto the much more prolific Elizabeth von Arnim. With Cunningham, I’d read everything he wrote – with von Arnim, there is still quite a handful of her novels still sitting unread on my shelves. So if your favourite isn’t in the list, that’s why!

Ok, let’s go – from my least favourite to my most favourite.

14. Elizabeth and Her German Garden (1898)

Sacrilege! I actually like all fourteen of the Elizabeth von Arnim books I’ve read, but this one is in last place perhaps because I had such high expectations. It was such a big deal during her life, since she always appeared as ‘by the author of Elizabeth and Her German Garden’ or ‘Elizabeth’, but I found it didn’t have the spark of her best work.

13. Christine (1917)

Published under the pseudonym Alice Cholmondeley, it was initially marketed as genuine letters from a young English girl studying in Germany during 1914. It is fascinating, but one of her bleakest books.

12. Expiation (1929)

Opinions differ on this one, but I found this novel about adultery to lack the humour that is usually so characteristic of Elizabeth von Arnim. I found it a little wearingly earnest. But Persephone reprinted it and called it ‘laugh-out-loud hilarious’, so you may find that too!

11. Mr Skeffington (1940)

Elizabeth von Arnim’s final novel is about the once-beautiful Lady Skeffington trying to cling onto her appearance – and relive her youth by going to see the many men who have thrown themselves at her feet. I wrote in my review that I’d probably appreciate the book more in fifty years’ time. (Well, forty years now!)

10. In the Mountains (1920)

This is very much a novel of different parts – she starts with a nature-as-idyll description, but I much preferred the second, funnier half where two forceful English widows arrive at the narrator’s Swiss mountain home. In my review, I said: “It was a lovely, slim introduction to many of the things that make von Arnim charming, witty, and with an undercurrent of topical commentary that prevents the mixture being too sweet.”

9. The Adventures of Elizabeth in Rugen (1904)

There are quite a few sequels to Elizabeth and Her German Garden – this is the only one I’ve read, but I definitely preferred it to the original. It’s much funnier, particularly when Elizabeth is trying to avoid her burdensome Cousin Charlotte.

8. The Benefactress (1901)

The Benefactress might be higher if its story – a woman setting up home in Europe with three discontented women, and their gradual changes – hadn’t been done better by a novel we’ll find further up the list.

7. All the Dogs of My Life (1936)

Elizabeth von Arnim’s only autobiographical work is pretty cagey about the bigger upsets in her life, but I still enjoyed it a lot. She writes it through the lens of the different dogs she’s owned, and does rather expose herself as an appalling dog-owner.

6. Fraulein Schmidt and Mr Anstruther (1907)

Told in letters from Fraulein Schmidt (and we have to imagine the replies from Mr Anstruther) von Arnim expertly shows how infatuation can turn to hurt pride and the whole rollercoaster along the way. We really can picture the absent Mr Anstruther and the sorts of letters he probably writes.

5. Introduction to Sally (1926)

An impossibly beautiful young working-class woman is married off to the first man who asks, in a desperate attempt by her anxious shopkeeper father to ‘protect her morals’ – but it turns out that he doesn’t like much else about her. A sort of Pygmalion story, it’s delightfully funny with (as so often with E von A) a searing undercurrent of deeper emotions. Coming from the British Library Women Writers series later in the year!

4. The Caravaners (1909)

Elizabeth von Arnim’s most satirical work is gloriously funny. It’s from the point of view of a German man who can’t see how cantankerous, selfish and unreasonable he is. A few years ahead of the First World War, von Arnim spears German/Anglo relations – it’s the comic sister of Christine.

3. The Enchanted April (1922)

Her best-known work is deservedly loved. Four women head to picturesque Italy, described so enticingly, and go from selfish disunity into something rather idyllic. Saved from the saccharine by von Arnim’s dry wit as a narrator.

2. Father (1931)

Jen is perhaps my favourite creation of von Arnim’s. She leaves her father’s home upon his second marriage, keen to avoid a life of service to him. The novel has a lot to say about the role of women in the 1930s, but Jen is so spirited and naive a character that the whole thing feels joyful even when confronting real issues. So glad we got to do this one as a British Library Women Writers edition.

1. Christopher and Columbus (1919)

Nineteen-year-old twins Anna-Rose and Anna-Felicitas von Twinkler are half-German/half-English are packed off to America by their horrid Uncle Arthur when war breaks out. On the boat, they enchant Mr Twist, inventor of Twist’s Non-Trickling Teapot. Once arrived in America, after a series of events, they open a tea room. I LOVE a tea room plot. The twins’ dialogue is so fun, always sparkling and strange, and von A’s ironic turns of phrase are at their best in Christopher and Columbus. I think it’s still just about in print from Virago, otherwise I’d have tried to snap it up for the British Library, and I’d love to see more people meeting this wonderful cast of characters.

That was fun! Which Elizabeth von Arnims would you put at the top of your list?

Unnecessary Rankings! Michael Cunningham

StuckinaBook All , 7 Comments

There is exciting news about a new Michael Cunningham novel coming out next year – called Day – and it has prompted me to do the first in a series that I’ve been thinking about for a while. Anybody familiar with my end-of-year best books lists knows that I love ranking things. And what could be more unnecessary than ranking all the books I’ve read by particular authors?? Well, it might spark some conversations. And Cunningham is a good person to start with, if only because I have actually read all of his books.

So, here we go – some unnecessary rankings of all of Michael Cunningham’s output:

9. Specimen Days (2005)

The only Michael Cunningham novel that I dislike, the three sections of this take place in the past, then the present, and then the robot-future. And are tied together by Walt Whitman. My dislike for science fiction and historical fiction, and my complete ignorance of anything about Whitman, combine to make this one a slog for me (though I did enjoy the section set in the present).

8. A Wild Swan and Other Tales (2015)

Cunningham’s collection of fairy tales takes different angles to the traditional narratives – we see Jack and the Beanstalk from the Giant’s POV, for instance. It was fine, but this is a well-worn path, and there wasn’t much of striking originality here.

7. By Nightfall (2010)

The only reason this one is quite low is that I don’t remember very much about the story – a story of love triangle / struggle between a man, his wife and his brother-in-law? Possibly? The main thing I remember is the clever revelation that a much-feted conceptual artist is actually a bit of a charlatan.

6. Golden States (1984)

Cunningham has more or less disowned his first novel, about a boy travelling across America to try and intervene in his sister’s relationship – but I thought it was very good. You could see all the hallmarks of Cunningham’s writing that would develop further, but it’s a compelling and emotionally sensitive novel on its own terms.

5. Land’s End (2002)

Despite what Wikipedia says, I think this is Cunningham’s only non-fiction book – a memoir of sorts about Provincetown that is also a travelogue or visitors’ guide or something merging all of these.

4. A Home at the End of the World (1990)

This was marketed as Cunningham’s first novel when it was published six years after Golden States, and is the first of Cunningham’s many friends-as-unconventional-family dynamics. As ever, he is brilliant at the relationships between a curious group of people and there is much to love in this coming-of-age story. Colin Farrell, incidentally, was brilliant in an otherwise OK film adaptation.

3. Flesh and Blood (1995)

The top three Cunningham books are all absolute masterpieces. I believe this is his longest, and it covers several generations of a complex family. Cunningham is on his best form in depicting the knotty communication and miscommunication between parents and children and there are many moments of extraordinary beautiful. The best death scene I have ever read in literature.

2. The Snow Queen (2014)

His most recent novel was somehow almost a decade ago – another group of family and friends living unhealthily interdependent, but somehow beautiful, lives together. The premise is that a strange light in the sky gives a character a quasi-religious experience, but really this is a book about community.

1. The Hours (1998)

I think Cunningham is an example of the best book also being the most famous. His clever plotting interweaves Virginia Woolf writing Mrs Dalloway, a 1940s housewife reading Mrs Dalloway, and a 1990s woman whose life mirrors Mrs Dalloway’s. The writing is poetically beautiful but it’s also a page-turner. Even several re-reads in, I race through it.

 

So, there we go! Do you agree with my rankings? Anybody you’d like to appear in a future Unnecessary Rankings??