Jarbaby, you are being a tad bit melodramatic. Please don’t take this post as an attack, because it really isn’t.
Now, I’ve probably read a few thousand books. My beloved grandma made me read a book a day for one summer, and I continued to do it for about five years. (Yes, she got the idea from A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, one of our most favorite books ever. We also had the tin bank.) You name a classic, I’ve read it. I bet I can even quote from it. Every classic you’ve mentioned in this thread I’ve read at least once (but probably more than that, because I agree that classics are excellent.)
I spend most of my extra money in bookstores. I will be broke and unable to buy food all week if I can buy a book I really want. I own about 1,000 books total (just starting buying them three years ago, before that I used the library.) The librarians in three local libraries know me by name. I don’t know what other qualifications I need to be a real, true, deep reader, but there you have it.
However, most of the books on her list are amazing. I read quite a few of them long before Oprah told me to, but I regularly read books with her name on them. Why? I like them. There are the ones I’ve read; the ones I loved are bolded:
Black and Blue by Anna Quindlen
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
The Book of Ruth by Jane Hamilton
Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat
Daughter of Fortune by Isabel Allende
The Deep End of the Ocean by Jacquelyn Mitchard
Gap Creek by Robert Morgan
The Heart of a Woman by Maya Angelou
Here on Earth by Alice Hoffman
House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III
I Know This Much Is True by Wally Lamb
Icy Sparks by Gwyn Hyman Rubio
A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest J. Gaines
A Map of the World by Jane Hamilton
Midwives by Chris Bohjalian
Mother of Pearl by Melinda Haynes
Paradise by Toni Morrison
The Pilot’s Wife by Anita Shreve
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
The Reader by Bernhard Schlink
She’s Come Undone by Wally Lamb
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
Songs In Ordinary Time by Mary McGarry Morris
Stolen Lives: Twenty Years in a Desert Jail by Malika
Oufkir
Vinegar Hill by A. Manette Ansay
We Were The Mulvaneys by Joyce Carol Oates
Where the Heart Is by Billie Letts
White Oleander by Janet Fitch
Now, some of them are sentimental. Some of them are flawed. Some of them aren’t ones I’d have picked myself. Most of the ones I bolded I’d read before Oprah told me to. A Lesson Before Dying, Song of Solomon, The Poisonwood Bible, and I Know This Much is True are some of my most favorite books ever.
I’m so eager to read a good book that if someone tells me a book might be good, or that they loved it, I will read it. I read FOUR Ursula LeGuin novels at Fenris’s suggestion - hated them, but it was worth it. I buy the books that B&N employees suggest (they have their own section of racking). I read books Oprah suggests, books my mom and my aunt suggest, books that professors suggest. Hell, if my favorite homeless crackhead Esther told me to read a book, I would do it. I love to read. I want to be an educated reader - someone who knows what they are talking about when they discuss books. I want people to know why I love a book and what is great about it. The more I read, the better my ability to do so is. I’m able to compare Whitman to Wordsworth, which I did in class today, and I really impressed my professor. I’m able to tell people why Walden is my personal bible. I have a broad base of knowledge that allows me to better appreciate new things I read. So I read everything. Even is Oprah tells me to.
YMMV, of course, but that’s MHO. Reading is always worthwhile, even if you do it because Oprah said so, even if you read a lousy book. You learned something, and that’s what matters.