Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk (1996)

Fight Club is one of the incredibly few book-to-movie adaptations where both are awesome, yet still significantly different in plot. Their endings are different (in a big way). Events are different. However, you can watch the movie and read the book and easily like both. There is none of that … oh but they changed it!

For those who seen the movie, the book contains the same unknown narrator speaking the sentences which were lifted verbatim and transposed into Ed Norton’s voice. I am Joe’s Prostate. I am Joe’s Complete Lack of Surprise. Short statements are peppered throughout Fight Club and as you read, they pile up in your mind, slowly pushing on the barriers society and yourself have built up.

Crazy thoughts slip in. Why am I going to work at this dead-end job? Did our hunter-gather ancestors think we’d end up like this? Why not break society down?

In short, Fight Club will mess with your mind.

Fight Club is a perfect miracle of author and topic.

Fight Club is violent and mocking and honest.

Fight Club is dark and twisted and … right.

This is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster (1987)

The New York Trilogy, Paul Auster’s notorious meta-mystery identity crisis series, bends the boundaries of fiction by ripping the sheet off reality. He inserts himself (the author) into conversations with himself (as a character) who is losing his mind while “the author” (a different character entirely) catalogues the whole thing. These three collected novellas, all centered in New York City, transcend cult classic status. The trilogy is passed from person to person like an illicit relic. It’s Auster at his finest, and subversive literature at its most puckish.