The best classic literature that won’t bore you silly

I discovered True Grit in my twenties, three years after my father’s death. I’d been living on my own for a year and was recovering from depression. Life was forcing me to learn resourcefulness, and this book came to me at the right time. I remember reading it with delight, wishing I’d known about it before. Mattie Ross’ pragmatic voice as she describes her father’s murder and her quest to avenge his blood resonated with me, not because we are alike, but because I needed a lesson in toughness. But beyond all this, I needed a good laugh, and True Grit is funny. The characters are colourful, the story suspenseful, and Portis’ research is so thorough you’d swear his book was written in the 19th century. 

I first read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in a literature class. I did not expect to be entertained and to laugh so much. It was one of the few classics I’d gone through that did not feel like homework and I was glad to add it to my personal library. The young Huckleberry Finn tells his own tale of fleeing from his alcoholic father and joining the runaway slave Jim on his journey to the free states on the Mississippi River. His raw, childish voice comes to expose the evil of slavery and question the absurdities of his time and place. A book I love to read again and again for its humorous and thought-provoking narration. 

I was raised Protestant in Québec, a province with a post-Catholic culture. There were few novels I could relate to growing up there. I was in my early teens when my sister-in-law lent me Emily of New Moon from her personal collection. Possibly because it’s about a nascent author, but also because it describes a Presbyterian lifestyle that felt familiar to us both. Emily Starr is a passionate girl who’s sent to live with her aunts and cousin on a farm on Prince Edward Island following her father’s death. Writing to her father “On the Road to Heaven,” she offers hilarious criticism of her culture’s religious legalism and takes her first steps as a poetess. Considered Montgomery’s most autobiographical work, it is a story full of laughter, excitement, and beauty. 

Lewis is mostly known by children for The Chronicles of Narnia and by adults for his brilliant essays on Christianity. Till We Have Faces is what I would consider his most captivating work of fiction for adults. It is, most of all, the story of a bitter, ugly woman, a type of heroine we rarely encounter in literature. Orual, the eldest of three sisters and very protective of the youngest, is heartbroken when her beloved Istra is sent out to the mountain as a human sacrifice to a mysterious entity feared by her people. A highly symbolic tale, Lewis’ creative retelling of the Cupid and Psyche myth is nonetheless accessible to most readers as the human elements are extremely poignant and relatable.

Farley Mowat once declared: “I never let facts get in the way of a good story.” I have read Never Cry Wolf as fiction many times, even though its author pretended it was factual. As a writer interested in Canada’s north, Mowat’s universe is an obvious choice for me. The inclusion of Inuit characters is also quite appealing. In this book, a naturalist studies Arctic wolves in a makeshift camp in northern Manitoba and deals with the ridiculous expectations of the bureaucrats who sent him out there to fend for himself. He discovers that contrary to public opinion, wolves are not responsible for the decimation of caribou herds, humans are. Some elements are exaggerated for comic effect, and as one of Canada’s best storytellers, Mowat delivers on laughs.