At the risk of being considered an uneducated mountain hillbilly, I do wonder the importance of reading certain books which have been considered classics by those who are deemed the so-called experts with the power to do the deeming of what is a classic.

I’ve shared many a memory here about my love of books and the origins of that love. And I certainly cannot be accused of having ignored a great deal of what can be considered classic books.

At an early age, even before I entered high school, I’d already ventured into the world of deep literature, inspired by my Mama, who was a voracious reader. One of the first authors she introduced me to was John Steinbeck, and before I even started high school I had already read The Grapes of Wrath, The Red Pony and The Pearl. And after maturing a bit, I read more of his works, such as East of Eden, Tortilla Flat, In Dubious Battle, Cannery Row and The Moon is Down. Prior to his death there was Travels with Charley: In search of America – a fascinating travelogue tale of a journey shared with his poodle – and The Winter of Our Discontent. So by the time of his death in 1968 I had already read a great portion of his life’s works before I’d even graduated high school, most of them written before I’d even been born, therefore making them classics in my mind’s eye.

And for sure, I had the required classics in high school of Dickens, Shakespeare, Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and, certainly, Homer’s Odyssey.

Over time, on my own, I had discovered Robert Louis Stevenson and Edgar Allan Poe. Then Orwell’s 1984, though classic in its own right, was a cult classic while I was in high school, as well as Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird.

Of course I can’t fail to mention Look Homeward Angel, by my hometown author, Thomas Wolfe, a book I waited many years to read, but finally did, with much delight. But also from this era are the great authors Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Just the past Christmas, after having given my brother a gift of books, we got to talking about famous authors we have read over the years. He admitted that he’d never read Thomas Wolfe while I admitted to having never read Fitzgerald and read nothing of Hemingway other than the novella The Old Man and the Sea and the short story “The Snows of Kilimanjaro”. That led to him telling me that before next Christmas I had to read something by Hemingway and to definitely read Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, and maybe even something by William Faulkner. And in return, I told him he had to read Look Homeward Angel.

Ironically, where I work security at a private school, they have a library. I’m allowed to read during my scheduled time there for all I’m required to do is sit in a hallway and guard two exits. And they just so happened to have in their books a copy of The Great Gatsby and Hemingway’s first novel, considered his best work, The Sun Also Rises.

First I attempted The Great Gatsby, and gave up after the first chapter; found it totally boring. Then I tried Hemingway and didn’t even make it through the first chapter! He was known for simple sentences of spare, tight prose, which in itself would obviously be boring.

Sure, I had read a little Hemingway and for sure have seen the movies based on his works, A Farewell to Arms and For Whom the Bell Tolls. But I never read those books, and having tested that first great classic novel of his, supposedly his best ever, I’ll forgo attempting to journey through those pages. And as much praise and fame that Fitzgerald’s work have claimed, I’ll have to be remiss in joining that fan club. I do have in my possession a copy of Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury, so that will be my next attempt at joining the classic club.

Another irony is the fact that the first novels published by Fitzgerald, Hemingway and Wolfe were edited by Maxwell Perkins of Charles Scribner’s Sons publishing, who has been credited with discovering the three of them. That’s quite a legacy. Unfortunately, I only fell in love with Thomas Wolfe, But, hey! He’s a hometown Asheville boy so I must be loyal.

And as for being an uneducated mountain hillbilly, I’ve passed the test of education by reading all the books I’ve read becoming an Autodicatic Polymath – Greek, you’ll have to look that up! – and consider myself the holder of a PHD of Voracious Reader, just like my Mama was. Thanks, Mama for getting me that library card!