There comes a time in every young reader's life when they realize that their "to-read" shelf on Goodreads is officially the same length as their "read". This event usually coincides with the realization that buying books, reading books, and reading about books are three very separate hobbies. And while it's not my fault that it's easier to get excited about a book than it is to actually read it, with 287 books on my TBR, I'll admit I have a problem.
So here it is: Deepti Aggarwal's Official Shortened TBR (which will still take her forever to actually complete).
1. Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace
Timeline: however long it takes to read a million pages
You may notice several of the books on this list being a million pages long. These are usually also the titles that have been sitting on my TBR the longest. This is not a coincidence-- I have chronic commitment issues and big book phobia. To that end, we can consider Infinite Jest to be more exposure therapy than a reading experience, giving that it's defining quality is simply that it is so. long.
My sister once told me that David Foster Wallace is the James Joyce of the 21st century (which is the most insulting description of anyone I've ever heard), but Consider the Lobster was one of my favorite pieces we read last year, so I'm hoping that at some point in the next ten years, I muster up the motivation to give his magnum opus a try.
2. Slouching Towards Bethlehem, Joan Didion
Timeline: however long it takes to internalize the reading-on-the-subway aesthetic
Whenever I see people with a book in public places (lobbies, planes, etc.), I take perverse pleasure in silently judging them for their reading tastes. This, however, means that I must always be carrying books that make me seem *cool* and *indie* when out in public, too, lest someone judge me for only reading books on display shelves at Barnes and Nobles.
That is the soul purpose of this book on my TBR. So I can, once I'm a tote bag carrying, oat-milk latte drinking, card carrying Mysterious Subway Girl, impress everyone around me with my intellectualism and crème-de-la-crème habits.
3. X, Chuck Klosterman
Timeline: for when college classes leave me feeling existentialist
Allow me to convince you to read this book via excerpts from Goodreads reviews:
"I learned something shocking about myself from this book, which is: I find the general concept of sports more interesting than the general concept of music. Huh."
"I hate Chuck Klosterman because there is no way I could possibly have a career in writing now."
"Pleasant enough way to spend a few hours but entirely miserable."
These reviews fascinate me-- will I become Tom Brady, Master of Athleticism after reading this book? Will I, too, abandon my career in writing? I've never known someone so simultaneously loved and hated (by the same people) as Klosterman, and therefore I'm simply obligated to read his anthology soon.
4. The Count of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
Timeline: for when I become a scorned woman hell-bent on revenge
Big Book Phobia returns! The Count of Monte Cristo was first recommended to me by my middle school librarian, who was severely overestimating my reading capabilities. Regardless, this book seems like the perfect combination of everything I love: the slow, dark descent of a man into madness? A main character named Edmond? Suffering and retribution? Sign me up.
5. A Cheese Monger's History of the British Isles, Ned Palmer
Timeline: for when I'm rich enough to afford expensive cheeses
This book is a guide to eating expensive cheese as told through anecdotes about the history of cheesemakers. No, I'm not kidding.
I'm pretty sure this book is the definition of reading "wildly," as Ms. Liamini would say. It is strange and weird and eclectic and niche, and I'm excited to read it whenever (or, if ever) I feel mature enough to attend a wine and cheese tasting.
6. The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, Mark Manson
Timeline: for when desperation overwhelms my hatred for self-help books
Safe to assume I will need a self-help book at some point in the next ten years, most likely during one of my several inevitable crises. This is widely considered to be the best one.
And, on the off-chance I don't have a breakdown in the next ten years, I should read this book anyway to fit in better with the finance bros on Wall Street who bond over The 1975 and calling Elon Musk a "disrupter".
7. We Should Not Be Friends, Will Schwalbe
Timeline: for when finding and maintaining friendships in adulthood becomes hard
We Should Not Be Friends is a memoir of Schwalbe's life centered around the arc of his friendship with his childhood neighbor. I think the part of adulthood I fear the most is the moment where friendship stops being automatic. Schwalbe might just give me hope that that moment isn't inevitable.
8. The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas, Machado de Assis
Timeline: for New Year's Eve when Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen are getting drunk on national television and I need to read something as unhinged as the words coming out of their mouths
Given what I've heard about this book, I'm tempted to believe it was written by the same poet who asserted, with full confidence, that "the tree is itself" on our AP exam. The narrator allegedly spends chapters insulting the reader, breaks away from the story to rant about avocados, and regularly instructs readers to tear the pages out and re-order them. It's pure, delightful chaos.
9. Things My Son Needs to Know About the World, Fredrik Backman
Timeline: for when the first similar-aged person I know has a child
The first and only reread on this list. Things My Son Needs to Know About the World is a collection of essays from Backman to his young son about love, food, travel, work, family, etc. I suppose it could double as a parenting/self-help book, but it's not prescriptive -- rather, Backman talks in circles for so long you start to question the point, and then he ties it together with a conceit-y metaphor so beautiful it brings tears to your eyes. I loved it the first time I read it, when I was fourteen, and am excited to see how it changes for me with age.
10. Solutions and Other Problems, Allie Brosh
Timeline: before I grow up too much to appreciate it
I discovered this book while in an indie bookstore in Chicago over Spring Break. It's a memoir told via comic strip, with stick figure drawings and stories of Allie Brosh getting trapped in a bucket. I'm told it's chaotic and messy but weirdly profound, and the perfect remedy for growing up.
The first time I get homesick so far away from my parents home-cooked meals, I'll whip this book out and read it on my dorm-room bed, surrounded by textbooks I can't understand and a (hopefully not too disrespectful) pile of dirty laundry.
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