List of the top 110 banned books- all of these have been banned somewhere at some point in time, you will be amazed... Starred ones I've read in whole or part. Read more. Convince others to read some.
#1 The Bible *
#2 Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain *
#3 Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes *
#4 The Koran *
#5 Arabian Nights*
#6 Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain *
#7 Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift *
#8 Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer*
#9 Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne *
#10 Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
#11 The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli *
#12 Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe *
#13 Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank*
#14 Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
#15 Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens*
#16 Les Misérables by Victor Hugo
#17 Dracula by Bram Stoker
#18 Autobiography by Benjamin Franklin
#19 Tom Jones by Henry Fielding*
#20 Essays by Michel de Montaigne
#21 Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck*
#22 History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon
#23 Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy* (dry!!)
#24 Origin of Species by Charles Darwin*
#25 Ulysses by James Joyce
#26 Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio
#27 Animal Farm by George Orwell*
#28 Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell*
#29 Candide by Voltaire*
#30 To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee *
#31 Analects by Confucius
#32 Dubliners by James Joyce
#33 Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck*
#34 Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway*
#35 Red and the Black by Stendhal
#36 Das Capital by Karl Marx*
#37 Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire
#38 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
#39 Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D. H. Lawrence
#40 Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
#41 Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser
#42 Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
#43 Jungle by Upton Sinclair*
#44 All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque*(one of my favorites)
#45 Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx
#46 Lord of the Flies by William Golding
#47 Diary by Samuel Pepys
#48 Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
#49 Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy
#50 Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (how ironic that it’s a book about banning books that ended up being banned in some places)*
#51 Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak
#52 Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant
#53 One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey*
#54 Praise of Folly by Desiderius Erasmus
#55 Catch-22 by Joseph Heller*
#56 Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X*
#57 Color Purple by Alice Walker*
#58 Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger
#59 Essay Concerning Human Understanding by John Locke*
#60 Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison* Not my favorite
#61 Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
#62 One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn *
#63 East of Eden by John Steinbeck*
#64 Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
#65 I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou*
#66 Confessions by Jean Jacques Rousseau
#67 Gargantua and Pantagruel by François Rabelais
#68 Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes*
#69 The Talmud*
#70 Social Contract by Jean Jacques Rousseau*
#71 Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson*
#72 Women in Love by D. H. Lawrence
#73 American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser
#74 Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler*
#75 Separate Peace by John Knowles
#76 Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath*
#77 Red Pony by John Steinbeck
#78 Popol Vuh*
#79 Affluent Society by John Kenneth Galbraith
#80 Satyricon by Petronius
#81 James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl*
#82 Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
#83 Black Boy by Richard Wright
#84 Spirit of the Laws by Charles de Secondat Baron de Montesquieu
#85 Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut*
#86 Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
#87 Metaphysics by Aristotle
#88 Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder*
#89 Institutes of the Christian Religion by Jean Calvin
#90 Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse
#91 Power and the Glory by Graham Greene
#92 Sanctuary by William Faulkner
#93 As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
#94 Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin
#95 Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig (it’s a children’s book!)
#96 Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
#97 General Introduction to Psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud
#98 Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood*
#99 Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Alexander Brown
#100 Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
#101 Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman by Ernest J. Gaines
#102 Émile Jean by Jacques Rousseau
#103 Nana by Émile Zola
#104 Chocolate War by Robert Cormier*
#105 Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin
#106 Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
#107 Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein
#108 Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Peck*
#109 Ox-Bow Incident by Walter Van Tilburg Clark
#110 Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes*
Saturday, May 19, 2007
In case you wondered...
I retired, at least temporarily, my livejournal. I read through it and saw it was mostly about boys and other silly things. It's good for a laugh, but I have grown a lot since then.
If you had a link to that, go back and look at my "50 things" list from then compared to this one.
If you had a link to that, go back and look at my "50 things" list from then compared to this one.
Friday, May 18, 2007
50 Things about Me
- I have piercings other than my ears
- I like lists. Go figure.
- I write and shoot pool as a lefty but do most other things as a righty
- I was terrified of the TV show Hee Haw as a kid
- I can't decide whether it is funny or a compliment when people in AL can't see me as a former cheerleader, since I was one from little girl through college
- Before cheerleading, I did gymnastics and shared a coach with Dominique Dawes. I also had some scary Russian coaches.
- I love mornings and watching the sun rise
- I think it is terrifying and cool I will be an attorney in a year
- I appreciate the near forgotten art of the handwritten letter
- I can't stand loud "eating sounds"
- I love gerbera daisies and peonies
- I cook a lot.
- Even when I've done well, I wonder how I could have done better or worked harder.
- I'm very ticklish.
- I have a good memory
- I am very slow to anger
- I love watches but often forget to wear one
- I think I've grown up a lot since college
- I read a lot because it is both more stimulating and relaxing than tv or the computer
- I finish what I start
- I'm unusually flexible and have loose joints.
- I underestimate my abilities
- I sometimes wish I was more wild
- When I was a kid I thought the signs by the road were "hysterical markers." Ironically, I ended up with a history/American studies degree. I'm pretty sure it was only mildly funny.
- I like post it notes and use a ridiculous number of them.
- I like to talk about myself but am having trouble making this list.
- I never liked to color or cut things out.
- I barely talked until first grade when I was chosen to narrate a play about a whale.
- I still have shy moments.
- I'm short. I'm fairly certain that won''t change.
- thesaurus.com is my friend
- I have a ridiculous habit of shopping online, putting stuff in my cart, and then not checking out.
- I'm a fickle gemini
- I wish I had a bigger family
- I love the theater. If I make it big in law, I will most definitely donate generously
- Twins run in my family but I am not one
- Supposedly my spiritual gifts are helps, mercy and encouragement I am not so sure.
- I like bird watching and listening to their songs
- I took ballet but didn't have the gracefulness for it
- I have unusually good balance
- I'm happy doing nothing with friends
- I enjoy personality tests. It reminds me that I have one.
- When I find a good book, I can't put it down until the end
- I don't get as many hugs as I'd like.
- I won't eat mushrooms, seafood, raisins or cantaloupe
- I am a regular blood donor and have B positive blood type
- I don't smoke and I rarely drink.
- I took up running in college after hearing that fast girls have a better time. I think that was a misinterpretation.
- My college cheering squad was sponsored by Hooters. They offered some of the girls jobs after a game, but not me.
- One of my nicknames is frogger, but I won't tell you why.
Wrinkles, Cracks and Other Signs of Perfect
Our culture seems to have gone off the deep end in search of perfection. I saw an article describing how more and more engaged couples are jointly undergoing cosmetic surgery to look perfect for their wedding. I don’t know whether that is tragic or funny. Maybe it’s both. You finally find the person who loves you just as you are, and as you prepare publicly to proclaim your love for one another you undergo an elective procedure so that you’ll look good enough for other people to see you. As if American culture wasn’t spending enough on wedding budgets . . . invitations, flowers, gowns, catering, photographs, manicures, tuxedoes . . . and now tummy tucks and rhinoplasty. . . all in pursuit of the perfect day. The only problem is that no day is perfect. No marriage is perfect. No person is perfect.
Author Anna Quindlen identified the problem of the pursuit of
perfection in a commencement speech at Mt. Holyoke, a women’s college.
She spoke about her own quest for perfection while she was in college. She
said:
I got up every day and tried to be perfect in every possible way. If there was
a test to be had, I had studied for it; if there was a paper to be written, it was
done. I smiled at everyone in the dorm hallways, because it was important to
be friendly, and I made fun of them behind their backs because it was
important to be witty. And I worked as a residence counselor and sat on
housing council. If anyone had ever stopped and asked me why I did those
things--well, I'm not sure what I would have said. But I can tell you, today,
that I did them to be perfect, in every possible way.
There are tragic implications for the quest for perfection among young women. I think of anorexia . . . when young people who want to be perfect fail to eat and can starve themselves to death.
Paul wrote these words in his second letter to Corinth, but I think they apply: “We have this treasure in earthen vessels.” Your transition may say “clay pots” or even “cracked pots.”
It reminds me of a story: A water bearer in India had two large pots. The pots hung on either
end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it. The other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master’s house. The cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily. Each day the water bearer delivered only one and a half pots full of water in his master’s house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection and miserable that it was only able to accomplish half of what it had been created to do. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, the cracked pot spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. “I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you.” “Why?” asked the water bearer. “What are you ashamed of?” “I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master’s house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don’t get full value from your efforts,” the pot said. The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, “As we return to the master’s house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path.” He was right. As they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure. The bearer said to the pot,” Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not the other pot’s side? That’s because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you’ve watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master’s table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house.”
We have this treasure in cracked pots.
Like the cracked water jar . . . there were things I can’t do, but I can do something beautiful with what I have and who I am. I don't feel perfect . . . but I am perfectly being who I am.
That’s the good news that Christians have to share with the world. It’s not about being perfect. It’s not about being perfectly flawless. It’s not about being perfectly beautiful or perfectly successful. We can’t be that kind of perfect. In fact, that’s why God sent Jesus . . . because none of us are that kind of perfect . . . none of us can be good enough to earn our way to God. So God comes to us. Because of Jesus we don’t have to be perfect. Instead we can just be loved.
And when we get that . . . when we get that we are beloved . . . loved perfectly . . . we are set free to be ourselves . . . to become who God uniquely made us to be . . . to become perfectly ourselves.
Maybe that’s what Paul wants us to understand. . . that the perfection isn’t in the container . . . it isn’t in the clay jar. The perfection is the treasure that is within. . . Christ alive in us . . . guiding us to embrace what is truly important. And through Jesus Christ God sees you as you are . . . forgiven and free. . . in your own way, perfect. Is there anything better than that?
Author Anna Quindlen identified the problem of the pursuit of
perfection in a commencement speech at Mt. Holyoke, a women’s college.
She spoke about her own quest for perfection while she was in college. She
said:
I got up every day and tried to be perfect in every possible way. If there was
a test to be had, I had studied for it; if there was a paper to be written, it was
done. I smiled at everyone in the dorm hallways, because it was important to
be friendly, and I made fun of them behind their backs because it was
important to be witty. And I worked as a residence counselor and sat on
housing council. If anyone had ever stopped and asked me why I did those
things--well, I'm not sure what I would have said. But I can tell you, today,
that I did them to be perfect, in every possible way.
There are tragic implications for the quest for perfection among young women. I think of anorexia . . . when young people who want to be perfect fail to eat and can starve themselves to death.
Paul wrote these words in his second letter to Corinth, but I think they apply: “We have this treasure in earthen vessels.” Your transition may say “clay pots” or even “cracked pots.”
It reminds me of a story: A water bearer in India had two large pots. The pots hung on either
end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it. The other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master’s house. The cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily. Each day the water bearer delivered only one and a half pots full of water in his master’s house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection and miserable that it was only able to accomplish half of what it had been created to do. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, the cracked pot spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. “I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you.” “Why?” asked the water bearer. “What are you ashamed of?” “I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master’s house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don’t get full value from your efforts,” the pot said. The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, “As we return to the master’s house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path.” He was right. As they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure. The bearer said to the pot,” Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not the other pot’s side? That’s because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you’ve watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master’s table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house.”
We have this treasure in cracked pots.
Like the cracked water jar . . . there were things I can’t do, but I can do something beautiful with what I have and who I am. I don't feel perfect . . . but I am perfectly being who I am.
That’s the good news that Christians have to share with the world. It’s not about being perfect. It’s not about being perfectly flawless. It’s not about being perfectly beautiful or perfectly successful. We can’t be that kind of perfect. In fact, that’s why God sent Jesus . . . because none of us are that kind of perfect . . . none of us can be good enough to earn our way to God. So God comes to us. Because of Jesus we don’t have to be perfect. Instead we can just be loved.
And when we get that . . . when we get that we are beloved . . . loved perfectly . . . we are set free to be ourselves . . . to become who God uniquely made us to be . . . to become perfectly ourselves.
Maybe that’s what Paul wants us to understand. . . that the perfection isn’t in the container . . . it isn’t in the clay jar. The perfection is the treasure that is within. . . Christ alive in us . . . guiding us to embrace what is truly important. And through Jesus Christ God sees you as you are . . . forgiven and free. . . in your own way, perfect. Is there anything better than that?
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Final Exam Grades
I have been obsessively checking online for final exam grades. I know it may be several more days before I get the last ones, but I can't stop myself. Hopefully the torture will be over soon!
Verse for the day:
Examine yourselves as to whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Do you not know yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?—unless indeed you are disqualified. 6 But I trust that you will know that we are not disqualified. 7 Now I pray to God that you do no evil, not that we should appear approved, but that you should do what is honorable, though we may seem disqualified. 8 For we can do nothing against the truth, but for the truth. 9 For we are glad when we are weak and you are strong. And this also we pray, that you may be made complete.
--2 Corinthians 13:5-9 (NKJV)
Verse for the day:
Examine yourselves as to whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Do you not know yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?—unless indeed you are disqualified. 6 But I trust that you will know that we are not disqualified. 7 Now I pray to God that you do no evil, not that we should appear approved, but that you should do what is honorable, though we may seem disqualified. 8 For we can do nothing against the truth, but for the truth. 9 For we are glad when we are weak and you are strong. And this also we pray, that you may be made complete.
--2 Corinthians 13:5-9 (NKJV)
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Out of Dark Comes Light
God, make me brave for life;
oh, braver than this.
Let me straighten after pain,
as a tree straightens after the rain,
Shining and lovely again.
God, make me brave for life;
much braver than this.
As the blown grass lifts,
let me rise
From sorrow with quiet eyes,
Knowing Thy way is wise.
God make me brave, life brings
Such blinding things.
Help me to keep my sight;
Help me to see aright
That out of dark comes light.
oh, braver than this.
Let me straighten after pain,
as a tree straightens after the rain,
Shining and lovely again.
God, make me brave for life;
much braver than this.
As the blown grass lifts,
let me rise
From sorrow with quiet eyes,
Knowing Thy way is wise.
God make me brave, life brings
Such blinding things.
Help me to keep my sight;
Help me to see aright
That out of dark comes light.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Home Sweet Home
I made it safely back home. The drive was just as long as I remembered, but I enjoyed the beautiful views on 81 through Virginia. I have been going non-stop since before exams. Sometimes busy is good though.
I went to a surprise birthday party that gave me an unexpected opportunity to network. I haven't landed a job yet, but I am sure I will. Things have a way of working out on their own. I had a great time the next day visiting with family in Crewe where my mom grew up. I'll be 25 in a month, but I still belong at the children's table. Law school and all that has come with it has required me to grow up fast. So, in some ways a seat at the kiddie table is nice. It was also nice to have a real, home-cooked southern meal.
The last two days the family has been scrambling after discovering grandma fell and broke her foot and sprained her ankle. It's a reminder of just how fragile humans are.
Home is where the heart is. For me, my heart is here.
I went to a surprise birthday party that gave me an unexpected opportunity to network. I haven't landed a job yet, but I am sure I will. Things have a way of working out on their own. I had a great time the next day visiting with family in Crewe where my mom grew up. I'll be 25 in a month, but I still belong at the children's table. Law school and all that has come with it has required me to grow up fast. So, in some ways a seat at the kiddie table is nice. It was also nice to have a real, home-cooked southern meal.
The last two days the family has been scrambling after discovering grandma fell and broke her foot and sprained her ankle. It's a reminder of just how fragile humans are.
Home is where the heart is. For me, my heart is here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)