What's your comfort entertainment literature?

Seems simple enough. Tell us about a book, poem or short story you turn to to bring yourself out of a funk, and tell us why it works for you. Please be specific. That is, don’t say anything by C.S. Lewis; rather, say The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, because it’s light and merry and has Lucy & Edmund, the best of the Pevensies, while leaving Susan at home to knit where she belongs.

The first two books of James Herriott’s series (All Creatures Great and Small, and All Things Bright and Beautiful) make me laugh. I love his depictions of rural England in the 1930s. I love the conflict between Siegfried and Tristan Farnon. I wish I could have met Tristan and taken part in some of his escapades.

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster. One of my favorite books since I was quite young, and still a fantastic, clever, feel-good novel. Besides the fact that I’ve read it numerous times to the point where I don’t really have to pay full attention to know what is going on, it has a very simple plotline and writing style, since it’s written primarily for young audiences.

–Dave Barry’s books. Just about all of 'em. Funny reads, even after multiple readings

–Frederick Forsyth novels. Especially Day of the Jackal. Very well done descriptions and vignettes of people and their motives, all built into a thriller.
Bored on the Rings Still hilarious after all these years.
–Larry Gonick’s Cartoon History of the Universe/Modern World – funny and informative

Terry Pratchett. More specifically the City Watch sub-series. Vimes, Vetinari and Carrot restore my faith in the power of Order over Chaos, and Nobby is just fun.

I like my comfort inna bun. With onions.

My Mom gave me a copy of The Cliff Walk at a time when I had lost my job and girlfriend and was in a bad funk. I’ve been back to it a few times since and it still helps to make me recognize which are the important things.

Good Morning, Miss Dove by Francis Gray Patton. Miss Dove is a small-town geography teacher who is big on routine, rules, cleanliness, punctuality, manners, etc. In this way she keeps her world predictable and controllable. (Or does she?) My grandpa gave me this book when I was a kid and I read it over and over.

Jane Eyre gives me the same sort of feeling…that if I just do the right thing, everything will be okay in the end.

I would agree with BobArrgh’s choice too. I always loved those James Herriott books.

Me too!
I’ll also read Agatha’s murder mysteries for comfort. Everything ends neatly; the virtuous are victorious, the bad are punished.

Chandler. McGoorty. Bukowski. Easy to read when you really, you know, can hardly hold a page. Also Straight Dope threads.

Bridge of Birds by Barry Hughart. Entertaining, funny, touching, and you can play “spot the Lewis Carroll character” if you feel like it.

Pamela Dean’s Tam Lin, I like pretending I live in a world where everyone is smart, sexy and magical, and always has a witty comeback. Oh, also the world of college where you have no responsibilities other than reading.

Dodie Smith’s I Capture The Castle, the writing is just so good that it distracts me from whatever is bothering me.

Rumer Godden’s In This House Of Brede is especially helpful for spiritual crises, it is so realistic, one feels like one has devoted one’s life to God, without having to do any of the actual work. :smiley:

This is wrong, by the way. Voyage of the Dawn Treader is best because it has rather a lot of Reepicheep in it.
Anyway, some other favorite pick-me-ups (Dawn Treader is certainly one):

The Hobbit — easily my favorite of the extracts from the Red Book. The author’s writing is friendlier and less conceited than the later hands to which he entrusted the accounts of the War of the Ring, which makes There and Back Again the most cheering and heartwarming tale of the Third Age, even though the ending is bittersweet.

Much Obliged, Jeeves, by Wodehouse — I might as well have said “almost anything ever written by Wodehouse,” but since that’s against the rules I’ll single out this one. “There is a tie that binds, sir.” — “Then heaven bless it, and may it continue to bind indefinitely.” :slight_smile:

Jacob the Baker, by Noah benShea — maybe it’s strange that I list this here, since it’s a fairly religious book and I’m a devout (heh) atheist; but somehow I still love this little volume, trite aphorisms and all! It’s very soothing.

The Call of Cthulhu (and others) by H.P. Lovecraft — because no matter how I feel now, this one will always remind me that there is much worse waiting just the other side of the thin membrane which separates the feeble fever-dreams of Man from the true universe of terror and madness.

That is reassuring. :slight_smile:

But only the pre-1994 American version will do. Other versions totally pussify the Island of Dreams. I got a copy to keep around as comfort reading, and was very disappointed when I got to that part. :frowning: :mad: I need to sell it at Half Price Books and look for a pre-1994 copy.

That’s bullshit. :mad:

You are again very wise, Anne, though I understand what the Perfesser was thinking when he … ameliorated … the Dark Island. I mean, you have to admit that is a genuinely terrifying idea.

“Fools! It was that kind of talk that brought me here, and now I regret the day I was born! This isn’t the island where fantasies are realized! This is the island where things that wake you in a cold sweat come to life!”

That place needed nuking, and I’m happy with the idea of Aslan hearing Lucy’s prayer and deciding to send it the way of Atlantis. Off-screen, of course.

ETA: I think I have two copies, in paperback, of the superior (pre-1994) version, Anne. Want me to look?

I have to say for me it’s any of the Dresden books by Jim Butcher. I’ve re-read them half a dozen times at least (still waiting on Changes to come out in paperback…) and they’re still as fresh and enjoyable as they were the first time I read them. I love the humor and the heart of the stories and they’ve definitely become my go-to books when I’m in a funk.

So’s the bracelet that turned Eustace (and possibly Octesian) into a dragon, or the pool that turned everything dunked in it to gold. The idea of dark, scary places in Narnia is one of the things I like about Dawn Treader, and why I like it better than the rest of the books.

I also like that bad things happen to good people in that book. There’s no evidence in the book at least that Rhoop did anything other than make an honest mistake to deserve being imprisoned on the Island of Dreams, or that Octesian did anything to deserve being eaten by (or becoming) a dragon, or that Restimar did anything to deserve being turned to gold. C.S. Lewis avoided having bad things happen only to people who sin, which is a temptation in children’s books and in religious books. It’s remarkable that Dawn Treader is both of those, and yet doesn’t do that.

Why would it be a special boon to not send Rhoop back to the island if he clearly didn’t want to be there? OTOH, it would be quite natural for them to ask what happened to him there. The pre-1994 American version explains why we don’t find out what happened to Rhoop on the island.

Sure! Email me if it is.

The Adventures of Doctor Eszterhazy, by the lamented Avram Davidson, because I love that gentle, urbane, unflappable, aristocratic polymath and his Old-World world, and I simply cannot get enough of Davidson’s discursive-yet-incisive style.

The Hornblower series by C.S. Forester. A ripping good series of sea yarns and a real live human being as the main character, with flaws and warts and self-doubts.