Just posted a list, that you can view in the sidebar of the complete list of the Pulitzer-Winners from 1917 forward. To explain the cypher I have used in denoting which books I own and which I have read already. One * (asterisk) means that I have a copy of the book and 3 * (asterisks) means that I have already read the books. Later I will post a story behind how I have procured all of the books that I already own, and going forward how I will find each. I have also added a sidebar to view all of my twitter updates which chronicle the pulitzer search as well.
currently reading March by Geraldine Brooks (fantastic so far)
I also need to keep track of where these books will lead me from here. Normally during the course of the life of an avid reader is simple. Somehow we find a book, through a list, a recommendation, find something interesting at a used bookstore, you have heard of this book, NPR or other media outlets, see an interesting movie trailer that you knew came from an interesting book like Up in the Air and want to read the book before you watch the movie, so many other ways. But then something amazing happens and you are dragged into willingly like soft, ephemeral hands leading downward through a time, a season full of ambition and explosion of passion for whatever it is it wants you to learn. I remember one summer I remember an English teacher in high school, Mrs. Kruse, whom all of my peers and fellow readers would agree inspired a army of young intellectuals to find our voices and read ferociously. I just remember hearing her esteem for Nobel and Pulitzer-winning author Toni Morrison, not a recommendation but more of an appraisal of worth and a endorsement, and I decided to read her work Beloved, maybe a little young to understand all of her beauty, but I appreciated much of what I didn’t understand at the time, and have since thought back on her work and have had a continual revelation of her work an beauty by simply talking about the questions the book has haunted me with. Before I started this book I had just finished reading I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou, stinging me with its at moment tender the next stark brutal honesty, ignited a passion for African-American authors. This then lead me to Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, and its rhythms and simplicity in story telling, so simply that you can miss its beautiful if you don’t slow your pace and walk with it at its speed. This progress lead to a place that I could experience Beloved which spurred me onto read her beautiful slender volume The Bluest Eye. From here I ended this reading tirade with Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, with its terse treatment of these same topics it was a haunting but fitting end to this rabbit hole at least for now. I have since read James Baldwin, Nella Larsen, Alan Paton, though an afrikaner, describes the plight of the South Africans truly and wonderfully, but nothing made me feel like I had discovered something for myself and read on.
Just like this adventure and many like it, I have been drawn forward by this type of beckoning during the first two books I have started this endeavor. The first book The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck, is apparently the first book in a trilogy. As I finished the novel, I felt that so many things were left unaddressed, and this depreciated my view of the work. Unfortunately recorded in my posts, I do not treat these ‘short-comings’ lightly, since I have come to learn that it is a book in a series this could explain things left untied. I now want to pursue the rest of this series to reconnect to these characters and find where these loose ends tie up. Also with this work I find that understanding more about Alcott’s Little Women would help infinitely with connecting to this novel, March. I am sure that this tunnel wouldn’t likely end quickly. Further up and further on.