| The Ten Awesome Pieces of Literature You Passed off as Crap in High School |
| Written by Ben Woody |
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The Best Books you should have read but didn't because you're illiterate and you're lazy
Let's be honest—you were too busy validating your street rep by downloading a handful of 50 Cent songs from Limewire to read that 12-page short story. Or was basketball practice getting out really late every night that month when you were supposed to read that novel? Thankfully, SparkNotes was there to pick up the slack to help with that B- on that paper. But what did you miss out on? Here are the ten greatest pieces of literature you couldn't make time to read.
#10. “My Last Duchess” by Robert Browning
Browning's most famous contribution to English literature was probably the guidelines he set for a literary structure called “the dramatic monologue.” In this excellent work, the speaker is the Duke of Ferrara, who is giving a tour of his home to an employee of his fiancee's father's. They come to a picture of a woman whom the Duke claims to be his ex-wife. Whom he had killed.
Why you'd like to read it.
Considering you might be the same kid who thought “Rob and Big” was the best shit since sliced emo kid's arm, you probably have MTV Twittered to your phone. So, how can you miss the first episode of “Cribs?” The Duke of Ferrara reminisces over the good old times he had with his ex-wife until she decided to go rogue and like other boys. Complying with the standards for badassery, the Duke exercised his pimp hand and had her killed. Trembling, the Duke's company receives word that if his fiancée doesn't keep her thoughts to herself, then she'll join “[his] last duchess.”
#9. “Dover Beach” by Matthew Arnold
Ah, Romantic poetry. Matthew Arnold's “Dover Beach” spawns from his honeymoon to Dover Beach, where the waves crash against the rocks beneath him. What turns out to be a pastoral scene quickly evolves into a moment of self-loathing and a grim prognosis for the rest of the human race. The poem concludes with his commentary that people are fighting blindly for something they don't understand. People are turning away from God and losing the clarity of self-perception they once had.
Why you'd like to read it
This poem is for the guy that realized that there's no God. It's just a very well-perpetuated lie, and nothing is what it seems. This sort of existential meltdown from reading his Romantic literature anthology spawned your buddy to go outside for a smoke. So, just after he exhales his gravity bong hit and continues to share his conspiracy theories, you remember why you don't smoke with that guy anymore.
#8. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Maybe you did read this book. I've noticed that most of the drunk English majors I associate with are engaged in conversations about Piggy and Jack while dudes try to hit on them with lines about how huge their “conch shells” are. Lord of the Flies is a novel that chronicles the dissolution of humanity when the rules of society are dissipated. Godlessness is created from lack of civilization, leading to the fat kid getting picked on—and eventually crushed by a conch.
Why you'd like to read it.
Simple language, fewer than 200 pages. Occasional illustrations. The story is smooth and linear. Plus, omigosh it's exactly like that show “Lost.” Wouldn't you feel good reading a book about something you already know?
#7. The Crucible by Arthur Miller
American history is full of silly little slip-ups in logic, and from the bowel-shaking stupidity of actual people believing in witchcraft comes The Crucible, one of Arthur Miller's legendary dramatic works. The plot follows the investigation of witchcraft in Salem, Massachusetts. The Puritan community is enthralled by the possibility that their daughters actually have the testicular fortitude (balls) to study the cultures of others so much that they decide to start lynching people.
Why you'd like to read it.
Do you ever sit in class and wonder why that foreign-exchange student always sports a burkha with whatever she's wearing? Probably. Do you ever ask her? Maybe once, but only after apologizing profusely. Now imagine getting lynched because of it. You were only being inquisitive! How hard is it to try to get to know a girl these days? This is the kind of batshittery the adolescent women put up with in Miller's drama. No wonder Northerners are so strange.
#6. “The Hollow Men” by T.S. Eliot
If your class required an anthology of texts, you probably skipped out on the shortest assignment on this list. “The Hollow Men” spanned the length of two whole pages in my Norton Anthology, and my notes on this fascinating poem were two more pages. In this wonderfully well-composed foreboding of the end of decency among mankind, we snicker at the fact that Eliot was even concerned with mankind so much that he lent his work to a bunch of high school kids who “just don't give a [crap], god!”
Why you'd like to read it.
Aside from the typical ego-boost you received from actually finishing a two-page poem, you kind of find yourself in the middle of your own life. Let's face it—you were probably assigned this reading in your senior year, and your Type-2 Senioritis had begun early in your sophomore year. To have to read a poem about people losing their perception of self is at the center of the worried senior—college is coming, and you have no idea what lie-of-a-person you're going to be in the first week of school.
#5. “A Modest Proposal” by Jonathan Swift
After the dry witticism your English teacher made as the bell rang to end class, you decide that her “modest proposal” to read this short work was not worth the thirty minutes that would separate you from your World of Warcraft practice. You don't really know why 18th Century Ireland was in disarray, you don't really know if it's fixed, and you definitely don't care if the Irish are still around. But there's something different about this short story. Swift seems to have a strange, strange plan.
Why you'd like to read it.
Holy shit! He just suggested they eat their babies! Man, if that's reform in Ireland, then I want to figure out what kind of dicking around they were doing for this to be a sensible remediation. Oh, it's not? I mean, duh. You know, satire and everything.
#4. Hamlet by William Shakespeare
To read, or not to read, that is the question! (Sorry, it had to happen a five billionth time.) No, you opted out of reading this. Yes, this is Billy's infamous drama that has been taught in high schools for years now. It's the classic story of boy-meets-girl-then-kills-own-brother-to-get-laid. In fact, not only does it involve a strange love-power triangle, but you can also include insanity and exhumation—which come stock with any Shakespeare drama.
Why you'd like to read it.
A family in the public eye with a crime problem? Check. Berating comments about women? Check. Already, this drama sounds like every episode of “The Sopranos.” Also, Shakespeare was actually a perverted bastard. Had you read—or maybe a cool teacher—you might've noticed some sex jokes fluttered in there. Plus, the ultimate put-down for any girl—“Get thee to a nunnery!” Unfortunately, a bunch of people die in a violent sword battle at the end, possibly destroying any correlation to the aforementioned Sopranos. They used guns. And strombolis.
#3. Moby-Dick by Herman Melville
The friggin' whale book. The only thing anyone who forgot to read it for class ever remembers from this American masterpiece is the opening line, “Call me Ishmael.” This is another one of those lines we use when associating with drunk English majors, because they seem to laugh and believe you're actually named Ishmael. Anyway, this novel featured a dude who's seriously trying to kick a whale's ass after it chomped off his leg and arm.
Why you'd love to read it.
“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” The novel wasn't really based off “The Princess Bride,” nor should it be considered as such. However, it's always good to be able to link the maniacal Captain Ahab of the Pequod to this ridiculous quote. Moby-Dick is an incredibly long read, though, filled with ridiculous amounts of characters, subplots, whaling trivia, and complex symbolism. Basically, it sets the tone for every role-playing game to roll out of Square-Enix's “Final Fantasy” line. However, there really isn't a lot of scenery changes—they just chill on the Pequod, whaling and everything.
#2. “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot
This is the best poem you'll ever read. You didn't read it to study meter, rhyme scheme, or sonnets. The only explanation my teacher gave me for reading this poem was, and I'm actually quoting my 78-year-old English teacher Mrs. Rogers, “Immediately upon reading this poem, your eyes will roll to the back of your head as you experience a full body orgasm, similar to a heroin fix.” Well, the thought of my old teacher uttering the word “orgasm” was kind of a tough pill to swallow. However, she also misspoke one day when talking about minstrel ballads by calling them “menstrual ballads.” She had a nasty habit of slip-ups. Anyway, I got the luxury of studying this poem in consecutive years in high school. My first teacher related Dante's Inferno to it and to the Armageddon. My second teacher taught it through the perspective of a man who just doesn't have any game. A prude-in-a-frock, if you know what I mean. So nobody has figured it out completely, which is okay by me.
Why you'd like to read it.
Why wouldn't you? It doesn't take very long, and the lyrics are actually pretty strange. Come on, he watches people measure their lives out in coffee spoons! He wonders if he should wear his trousers rolled. Plus, the sky is like some sort of patient etherized upon a table. Okay, so it has awesome imagery. Think deeper! These women in coffee shops are measuring out their lives by insignificant pieces of gossip. He's going to die a virgin. “Do I dare eat a peach?” Freud had a specific thought about peaches. Then again, he also thought about his mom in that same specific way. This poem discusses life's nuances, including love, patience, and chillin', and it describes the devolution of poor J. Alfred to subhuman state for not being capable to enjoy himself or life. Of course, you didn't have any sort of understanding how to enjoy your life, not with books like...
#1. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
...weighing you down. The only form of persuasion used to get me to read this novel is the overt usage of the n-word in the first twelve pages of the novel. You see, my friends were fascinated with this sort of racism, so we decided to start reading this novel. Unfortunately for my bigot-assed friends, spottings of the n-word waned, so we throttled down our interest in the novel. But, seeing the novel as just a sequel to that Tom Sawyer book, I decided that I could read this piece of children's literature.
Why you would like to read it.
The story of a young boy transcending the fetters of socio-cultural norms to save the life of the only real father figure he's ever had. Meanwhile, young Huck gets to experience all the good times you can have on a raft with one to three other dudes, including getting free food by pretending to be a girl, bullshitting several towns out of hundreds of dollars, and even watching one of his friends get shot in the leg. “Reservoir Dogs.”
Honorable Mentions: F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby—everyone in my class actually read the book L'Morte d'Arthur by Sir Thomas Mallory—King Arthur's the man, but he was not assigned to everyone. |


