The most recommended classic books

What I like about Orwell is that he is uncompromising. His fiction, such as Animal Farm and 1984, is very well known, but some of his essays have been just as influential.

This is probably the most important one, in which Orwell makes a case for clarity and concision as the guiding principles of communication. Language is both cause and effect of meaning: it "becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier to have foolish thoughts."

Good writing, Orwell suggests, helps us retain freshness of thought; bad writing, conversely, deadens our sensibilities. Linguistic precision, in other words, is "not the exclusive concern of professional writers." We should all be concerned by cliché.

As a young kid reading Dickens for the first time I was mesmerised by this journey into the underworld of Victorian London. I would go on my own imaginary adventures with the Artful Dodger and his gang of thieving street urchins. Years later, when writing my own book about modern street gang members I had the same sense of going on a thrilling journey of discovery and escapades.

Set during the Second World War, these hilarious stories are about William, a young boy who has a very strong sense of himself. I identify with the scruffy, rebellious William. He’s always in trouble but has very passionate reasons for doing the things he does. The adult world baffles him, he’s the head of a gang that he leads, with his logic, into all kinds of scrapes. The world is unjust and he has to fit in with incomprehensible family values and oppose terrors like the vile and spoilt Violet Elizabeth Bott. I cheer for William against his older siblings and against the world that just doesn’t understand.

I was so overwhelmed by the perfection of this American masterwork that I sought out the founder of The Thomas Wolfe Society, the greatest Thomas Wolfe collector who ever lived and who will ever live, and became his very close friend.

This is a huge book, with the music of pitch-perfect prosody from beginning to end, and yet it's only part of a much greater whole—every one of Wolfe's books connect together in some way, forming a massive cadency of music in words. If you examine them, there's only two main branches (Eugene Gant as the protagonist in one, and Monk Webber as the protagonist in the other). But it's really all one big expanding fable. This volume has, in my opinion, the richest writing, from the opening proem to the tiny diamond-sharp moving-picture painting of the final line.

Agnes maintains such a gentle strength throughout this novel that it’s hard not to fall in love with her.

She goes through the stresses and trials of being the governess to absolute chaos demons and maintains her morality throughout (where a lesser human would have crumbled). She is kind and honest, and through her interactions with others, Bronte is able to explore a number of different hard-hitting aspects of the human condition.

Be it the contrast between a priest who does more harm than good for the sake of his own vanity and a priest who heals through compassion and decency, or her exploration of the different ways jealousy presents itself in friendships. 

The closest person to me in the world, before she died, gave me a copy of this book, several years ago. I eyed the copy in my house, waiting until I felt ready to read it. I had only read Vonnegut once before, nearly forty years ago.

This book surprised me with its linguistic lightness of touch and beautiful playfulness. There is a cumulative power in the storytelling, crescendoes of pyrotechnic virtuosity, and an underlying solemnity and fatality in dealing with mortality or the occasional weird transcendence of it in time and space.

I kept experiencing the book as a form of letter from my lost loved one, as her mind had travelled through those pages before mine, and she had given me that physical copy, wishing my mind to travel across those pages too. It has left me wanting to read more Vonnegut.

As Vonnegut’s Harmonium's sing on the… show more.

Other, newer books on the Battle of Berlin are available. And Ryan’s other books, The Longest Day and A Bridge Too Far, are more famous. But The Last Battle is the book whose style and mood I most try to emulate in my own writings.

Ryan interviewed many of the participants, collected reams of documents from both sides—at a time when the Cold War was at its height—and the result is a wonderful book. You can smell the cigarette and gunsmoke, picture the military and political leaders talking, laugh or cry at some of the vignettes.

Beevor’s book on Berlin is better history—thanks to the sources he was able to access—but Ryan is my ‘go-to’ book if I want to feel and experience the fall of Berlin.

This is where the “Western novel” began.

By reading this book, people of the early 20th century were introduced to a prototype protagonist who would be duplicated (with variations) for generations to come. Authors who followed this lead were Zane Grey, Louis L’Amour, Jack Schaefer, Charles Portis, Elmer Kelton, and I.

As a boy I found my heroes in the format of the lone common man who faced up to adversities that cut against his moral code.  These protagonists played a large part in shaping my values. Even though the characters were fictitious, the lessons were real. The inspiration hit home.

Wister’s influence on later writers remains intact for good reason. His work was the historical beginning of the “Western,” which, to many folks, serves as the quintessential American story.

This is another series I found completely by accident, but was not disappointed. In this series, though they can speak and talk like humans, the animals truly are and live as animals.

While some may find this a bit slow compared to some of the more anthropomorphic stories out there, it is really a fascinating mixture of a survival tale combined with societal commentary regarding the age-old conflict of nature versus nurture, in this case asking whether a group of different animals—some carnivorous and some herbivorous—can cooperate long enough to reach the safety of a new home.

I have always shied away from reading Lolita, not having the slightest desire to read about a middle-aged man’s sexual obsession with a twelve-year-old. Still, I could not compile a list of books about girls in inappropriate relationships without including this novel, the most famous book of all time on the subject.

I now fully appreciate why it has stood the test of time. I loved the dark comedy, often tipping into farce, the fabulous turns of phrase, the elaborate yet pin-sharp descriptions, and the blending of such sinister subject matter with the banalities of American post-war consumerism. Humbert Humbert is a truly deviant, disgustingly loathsome paedophile, but he’s funny and clever, and no one hates him more than he hates himself.