Yesterday, Slate ran a “beach read” article, asking novelists, journalists, and other book folks the question: What’s your favorite beach book? The range of authors, genres, and titles listed is amazing—cowboy stories and chick lit; classics and obscure works of history and philosophy; Edith Wharton and Tommy Lee. Of particular note are the picks from Daniel Menaker, executive editor-in-chief of the Random House Publishing Group:
I am taking three books with me to the (I'm afraid at this point merely metaphorical) beach. One is for a gloomy strand indeed—The Illusion of Conscious Will by Daniel M. Wegner. It's a brilliant dismantling of the idea that conscious mental decisions cause physical actions—which I have been trying to finish for four months now. I'm taking it with me because, evidently, I don't really have a choice. Another is Elmore Leonard's The Hot Kid, because it's by Elmore Leonard. (Despite its title, it's not my biography.) And a book that—full disclosure—my group is publishing, about a pig called Christopher Hogwood, and the town it lived in. It's called The Good Good Pig by Sy Montgomery.
And another suggestion—from George Saunders, author, In Persuasion Nation, just because it’s amusing:
For my money, the best beach read is How To Get Sand Out of Your Private Areas, by Hitch C. Groyan. Ha ha! No seriously. The best beach book is I Floated Nearby, Full of Envy by Moby Dick. It's the heartbreaking, true-life story of a whale who longs to come up on the beach and befriend the wealthy, joyful people he sees there but can't, because he has no legs and is totally naked. Also, he is a little sensitive about his last name. In the sad conclusion, this cranky guy named Ahab kills "Moby" to make him into lantern oil, only to find that lanterns are no longer used. Then—I haven't read it in awhile—I think Ahab gets so depressed about the lantern thing that he cuts off his own leg, and then this crocodile keeps chasing him around, and the crocodile learns to fly and decides never to grow up, and asks the audience if they believe in fairies, and then gets arrested for using language insulting to gay people. It's sad, but it's also depressing, and really makes you think while totally bringing you down and making you want to have about six more drinks and go for a swim.
Read more of Slate’s picks here. Also, we’d love to hear what books you plan on taking to the beach with you this summer.
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