George Orwell’s list:
“ The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini ” (a terrific liar, the very portrait of entertaining braggadocio).
“Looking Backward,” by Edward Bellamy (at which point I started caring about politics).
“Crime and Punishment,” by Fyodor Dostoevsky (the first novel to make me barf).
“The Decameron,” by Giovanni Boccaccio.
“Journey to the End of the Night,” by Louis-Ferdinand Celine (depressing! riveting).
“She,” by Rider Haggard (oh, man, “who must be obeyed”).
“The Magic Mountain,” by Thomas Mann (couldn’t make heads or tails of it yet, but there were certain stirrings).
“The Satyricon,” by Petronius.
“Gargantua and Pantagruel,” by Rabelais (so freaking weird).
“Letters to Theo,” by Vincent van Gogh.
“Star of the Unborn,” by Franz Werfel.