My life in books: John Williams made me realise the power of the simple, unadorned sentence
Daniel Okrent's latest book, 'Stephen Sondheim: Art Isn’t Easy', published by Yale University Press, is out now. Picture: Leo Sorel
Daniel Okrent is a prize-winning author whose books include and , which was a finalist for the 2004 Pulitzer Prize in history.
by Ben Lerner. by Daniel Schulman. by Chaim Grade. And several others I can’t see beneath those three.
by Mary Rodgers. by John Lanchester. The last chapter of , by Jonathan Franzen, which I reread frequently specifically to cheer myself up.
by Nick Hornby. Any and all of Proust, in various translations, countless times.
by Howard Fast. For a 14-year-old boy, it was an eye-opener not just to part of history (slavery and the Civil War), but to the art of storytelling. Later, by Philip Roth: “Oh, you can do that with words?!?”
by Keith McNally [restaurateur and owner of Balthazar in New York]. Completely disarming and charming.
by John Williams. But it also made me realise the power of the simple, unadorned sentence. There’s not a wasted or misplaced word in this magnificent book.
by Christopher Hitchens. I always thought he was clever and acute; I didn’t know how complex his thinking was.
by Ann Packer, which is a profound revelation of the disturbances beneath the surface of marriage, even when the marriage is a great one.
And also the absolutely compelling by Edward P Jones which turned my mind upside down about a major part of American history.
Another novel from Jonathan Franzen. I was not crazy about his last one but, as always, I was completely captured by his characters, who apparently will return.
by John Williams, as above. by George Eliot, because it’s the greatest English-language novel ever.
directed by Stanley Kubrick. An unreadable book which was turned into a magnificent usual and narrative feast. Also from Kubrick, his adaptation of Howard Fast’s .
ThriftBooks [online independent used bookseller] or any number of other places that offer used books in good shape at good prices. Also, as much as I hate to admit it, Amazon Kindle.
A futile effort at alphabetisation within categories that change so often I can’t remember what the category was.
Quiet! And my wife in the chair opposite.
Joseph Heller’s Yossarian. I read more than half a century ago, and Yossarian remains absolutely present in my life. Similarly, Julien Sorel in Stendhal’s .
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