“So much does Odysseus excel all others in cunning wiles; no human being can vie with him”

The Odyssey by Homer

The story

I’ve recently been told that nostos, from which we get the word ‘nostalgia’, means homecoming. This epic tale is all about nostos. After the Trojan war, a great hero (not the greatest, but pretty well-respected) Odysseus, somehow both favoured and cursed by the Gods, struggles to get home to his wife and his son. His journey will include ‘outwitting’ (or out-brutalising) monsters, avoiding seduction by beautiful women and denying the truth that he is an ageing man clinging to his inflated reputation. Basically, an Ancient Greek James Bond. Meanwhile, evil suitors have installed themselves in his kingdom (did I mention he’s a king?), eating his wife and son out of house and home.

Intrigued at all?

The blurb unsatisfactorily tells us:

Mini knocks, gigantic box, floating rocks, furry frocks… culture shocks

Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift

My book

You will almost certainly have some experience with Gulliver’s Travels film adaptations, whether you prefer the full heroic travels of the older era, or if you’re simply a fan of Jack Black. You might use phrases like “Lilliputian” in your everyday life. Even if you’re a fan of the more obscure entertainments such as anime, you have almost certainly heard of Laputa: Castle in the Sky.

Aside from the fact that I’m doing a project on travel in the Georgian era (and therefore this book really does seem ideal for study since it was published in 1726), the above are the reasons why I chose to read it. I have an endless pursuit to understand why world-famous canonical books belong to that esteemed class of classics.

Still, I recommend buying a better version than the Collins Classics even if it might cost a little extra. The writing is tiny. 292 pages of titchy writing? Buy a different copy; save your eyesight.

The story

The front cover displayed here might give you a clue. The title might too. The blurb gives this:

Give a little love, and it all comes back to you…

Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley

My book

You have to read this. You don’t necessarily have to buy the Collins Classics edition – even its summary of Mary Shelley’s life is stilted – but you really, sometime before you die, have to read Frankenstein. I’d call it an average length for a novel, at 202 pages, and the gap between its language and how books are written today isn’t that large, especially considering its publication in 1818. You really must read this though.

Like most people out there, I already knew the basics of Frankenstein before I even picked it up (such as the fact that Frankenstein is the name of the creator, not the ‘monster’). I even knew that, opposing what the movies tell us, the creature isn’t green, but yellow. However, don’t assume that you know all that goes on within just because you know of Frankenstein‘s legacy. The plot still holds the power to surprise you, I can surely guarantee.

Though the word ‘horror’, considering that this book is meant to be the world’s greatest gothic horror, might be pushing it, you don’t get much more classic than this. This here is a novel ingrained the national consciousness. However, I feel the need to point out that Frankenstein never stands in his laboratory as lightning crashes down shouting, “It’s alive! It’s alive!”

The story

Do I need to give a synopsis? The blurb gives us the ultimate in stereotyping:

No man is an island, but some lucky sods own one

Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

My book

I own a lot of the Collins Classics edition of books. Why? Because they are extremely cheap at my local bookstore. They aren’t the best copy to get. The covers aren’t gorgeous and the glossary at the back of the book is pretty much useless and really quite arbitrary. If you just want a copy to read and enjoy though, they do the job.

Robinson Crusoe is such a famous book that I had been planning to read it since I was young. I’ve always liked survival stories and wildlife, so I thought that it might be ideal for me. At 262 pages, it didn’t seem unmanageable either.

The story

The book cover is wrong, for a start. The defining moment of this novel is when Crusoe discovers a single, solitary footprint in the sand.

You probably know the story of Robinson Crusoe. A guy got shipwrecked on an island a long time ago, right? You wouldn’t be wrong. It was published in 1719, so you can expect a lot of backwards thinking. What did surprise me was that it isn’t all as expected. Yes, he’s shipwrecked, but not until Chapter 3. The blurb has this to say:

The Original Spy Chase

The Thirty-Nine Steps by John Buchan

My book

Why did I choose to read this book? It isn’t the type of book that I usually select out of my bookshelf. Not being a trains spotter, the cover on my Wordsworth Classics edition doesn’t exactly entice me.

Well, recently I was in London. My friends and I went to see a play at Piccadilly Circus. That play just happened to be The 39 Steps. I recommend watching that, by the way, as it’s hilariously funny and only has four and a half actors (you’ll understand upon seeing it). Anyway, to cut a long story short, someone was going around the theatre selling copies of this little book. By little, I mean it’s only 122 pages long.

I have to be realistically shallow. I bought this book because I like books, because it was cheaper than the programme and because the guy selling it was really cute.

The story

Firstly, let’s not judge a book by its cover. This book has very little to do with trains, although there is a scene that takes place in a train. Let’s not judge it by the play either. The play is extremely funny and tongue-in-cheek, but doesn’t bother attempting to keep firmly to the plot laid out by the book.

If you officially want what the book’s about, here’s the actual blurb: