As if I needed any more distractions, the other day I happened upon the holy grail of pleasure reading. Funnier than Monty Python and as engaging as "The Lord of the Rings" - get it? rings? engagement? - "The Lawn Facebook 2011-2012" has it all. The premise of the packet is that each Lawnie answers a list of basic get-to-know you questions - think rush, but with substance. That way, these lucky 54 residents can know the people with whom they spotlight innocent streakers, share peeing-in-the-sink stories and talk about lofty concepts and lofted beds. In this bound forum, the Lawnies can presumably be candid - it's not like any shrewd journalist will pick it up to use it as material...
But alas, I will not ramble on about 51 West's favorite song - it wasn't by Led Zeppelin - nor 34 East's place of birth. What really struck me about this moment, instead, was the conversation it triggered among a group of mere mortals, or "muggles" as athletes call non-athletic peers. As my friends and I browsed the book, we all clung on to one question and hardcore judged any Lawnie whose answer did not suffice: What's your favorite book?
Mostly everyone in the conversation agreed that to claim "The Great Gatsby," "The Catcher in the Rye" or "A Classic We All Read In High School" as one's favorite book showed total lack of creativity. Hearing the words used to describe an unfortunate soul who listed works by Jane Austen and another "overdone" author was enough to silence my usually opinionated self. "Harry Potter" was the only book to supersede this flogging, but perhaps that's because a girl who sleeps with the seventh book under her pillow populated this group. That girl shall go unnamed, but I will have you know that it's certainly not me - the fourth book is so much better for neck support.
The Lawnies also tended to choose books from the, "One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish" elementary school of thought. Choosing "Go, Dog. Go!" as a favorite book successfully shields you from the chirps of criticism that "To Kill a Mockingbird" lovers face. Arguing against Dr. Seuss would be the same as saying, "Why yes I hate sunshine, and childhood and love and a catchy rhyme! Why don't you sue-ss me!" For this reason, children's books are the biggest cop-outs. It's time to get off "The Magic School Bus" and instead hop on "A Streetcar Named Desire".
Many of the answers showed real depth of character and intellect, others showed mainstream bestseller tendencies, and still we bantered back and forth about the merits of each response. All the while, I could not answer the question myself. As an English major, the only weapons in my arsenal are reading and writing. So, for a few hours after the conversation, I was deeply troubled as to how I could not answer such a defining question. I used to be "that" girl who finished her summer reading before the previous year ended, doubled the number of books needed, and actually enjoyed the library's book sale for more than just the chance to buy new "pet pals" and gel pens. Now I don't even have a favorite book - apart from Harry Potter, no shame - and that's not to say I've read so many I'm above making the ultimate choice.
But, you know what? If the Lawnies can do it, so can I. My favorite book is F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby." You try making the color yellow so freaking important - nice try, Coldplay - or crafting an unimaginably intricate work in just a few hundred pages. "The Great Gatsby" takes the cake, though, not because of its literary genius but because of how it affected me. It was the first "classic" I read in IB English I, and it was the first time I learned to annotate and think critically. It was the first. You're not supposed to understand it, it's sloppy and you talk through it with your entire English class. OK, so the metaphor stops there.
I've read and loved tons of other books - seriously, metaphor over - but that's all because "The Great Gatsby" conditioned me to appreciate their prose, poems, form and function. And no, friends who relentlessly bashed uncreative answers, I am not a terrible person! When I consider other favorite books, I drift back to "Gatsby" as if it's the green light on the dock of my literary bay. Oh, and again, this doesn't include Harry Potter, which is so far beyond ranking that it's like the Miss Kathy of University workers.
No one deserves to criticize others for their favorite books because those answers rely so heavily upon personal experience - you can't control when you have your "aha!" moment, nor can you force inspiration. A favorite book is a platform - or platform nine and three-quarters - not a raised bar. Note: "Twilight" remains the only exception to this rule. Never, ever can "Twilight" be a favorite book.
Elizabeth's column runs weekly Thursday. She can be reached at e.stonehill@cavalierdaily.com.
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