Book Review: The Western Lit Survival Kit

Teehee – you’re going to like this one. Today we’re looking at a reference book with a twist – not only is it useful, it’s also interesting. That’s like a two-fer, right? The Western Lit Survival Kit was originally reviewed for LuxuryReading.com, which graciously provided my review copy free of charge. The original, condensed, review, which was posted January 17, is available here.

***

The Western Lit Survival Kit

The subtitle on this one says it all: “An Irreverent Guide to the Classics, from Homer to Faulkner”. I was a philosophy major in college, went to law school, and am now a writer. I have loved reading and books – and discussing, analyzing, and parsing reading and books – since I was four years old and able to read books. I’m also addicted to reading lists – you know, the “read these books or you are a mindless peasant!” kinds of lists. So when I saw this title/subtitle combo, I was immediately intrigued.

I’ve tried reading and/or flipping through anthologies like this before. Usually, collections of short précis or summaries of books/theories/philosophies sound much better than they actually are. Every author/compiler seems to think they are more witty and urbane than everyone else on the planet. Mathematically, of course, this isn’t possible. And the books bear that mathematical impossibility out.

Believe me. I’ve looked at a LOT of them.

Most of the time, they read like a mediocre student’s collection of seventh grade book reports: a few didactic phrases that could have, frankly, been cribbed from Cliff Notes, a few choice adjectives (usually of the “seminal”, “pedagogical,” or “superfluous” variety – words intended to sound snooty but that really only sound overblown), and a few half-assed attempts at puns or “witticisms” (picture me making air quotes and rolling my eyes when you read that word).

Still, somehow I remain an eternal optimist about this type of book (I do the same with retellings of fairy tales and books self-described as “humour” too), despite the fact that I am a die-hard pessimist (or at best cynic) about all other things in life, and despite the fact that I am nearly always universally disappointed as a result. So imagine my delight when I started reading this one and found that it did, in fact, deliver on its promise!

Woohoo, she said!

Sandra Newman’s summaries and analyses – as well as her scales rating the importance, difficulty, and fun of the various works she describes – are concise without being curt, interesting without being overdramatic, and surprisingly fun to read. She covers a very wide variety of works by the standard canonical western world authors, and sprinkles in fun facts, odd tidbits of insight and snarkiness, and just enough evidence of her apparently insatiable appetite for authors many of us cannot stomach in small doses let alone in major servings to make the book a fun and useful reference guide.

I’m not in school anymore. I don’t need crib-notes on the plot, meaning, or purpose of literary works. Plus, I’ve read enough to be able to hold my own in conversation about most of the great works – through reference even if not through direct reads. Still, there are authors that I’ve never quite been able to get through at more than a superficial level, as well as some whose point I’ve never been able to fully grasp. Newman’s guide is a great way to get a better sense of the content and significance (at least to the world of literature, even if not to the world of Jill-Elizabeth, teehee) of these. And it is pretty fun – and funny – too.

If you’re looking for a good summary of the high points of all those authors/epochs you never could quite stomach, give this one a go. It has good information in manageable bite-sized morsels – with a cherry or two on top for good measure…