I’ll start out being curmudgeonly.
Let’s try and define what we mean by classic.
Prayer for Owen Meany? That book’s only fifteen years old. If you can point to a 1975 book that would have been considered “classic” (as opposed to modern literature) in 1990 (when Owen Meany was new), I’ll buy Owen Meany as a classic. I’m not buying it (although I agree it’s one of the great reading experiences of a lifetime).
I was also going to nix (at least for myself) Goedel, Escher, Bach, but I see by Amazon that the first hardcover edition came out in 1979. Would a 1953 book be seen as a classic by 1979? I have to confess it probably would, and I’ll just try not to listen to the sounds of my bones creaking and arteries hardening.
Use your best judgement, but I recommend my “equal time” yardstick as a decision-making tool.
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By that measure then, I’m going with Confederacy of Dunces which I just read a couple of years ago, having remembered all of my friends gushing over it in high school. A true classic, and funny as hell.
I’ll also put up Lolita, which I completed relatively recently.
The mea culpa at the end, where the protagonist apologizes to Lolita and pointing out that he indicated the work should not be published until after her death (a moment whose poignancy, owing to specific dates mentioned in the book which when combined with the publication date, indicate Lolita, still a young woman, had died almost immediately after the narrative, was initially lost on me due to the great remove of time) came as too little, too late to cover up the fact that this is basically pedophilic porn for a repressed age.
It is definitely a product of its time.
I concur with those who give a big “meh” to Catcher in the Rye Didn’t see what the fuss was about, although I confess i might have if I had read it at about age 15.
Loved the hell out of Dracula, which so far surpasses any movie version it’s not even funny. I hadn’t known prior to reading it that it was an epistilary novel, and I especially enjoyed the device that some of the passages were transcribed from cylinder recordings for a “modern” feel, even if no one ever talked tlike that extemporaneously. Afterward, I immediately dug out my copy of In Search of Dracula which traces the locations in the novel with an archaeologist’s eye, and enjoyed THAT classic all over again.