My Favourite Book(s)

My Favourite Book(s)

I’ve never been able to choose just one favourite book. Or rather, I’ve picked countless books as my ultimate favourite, only to then, a week, a month, or a year later, find a new one. Does that make me fickle? I don’t think so. Let me explain.

My journey with books started quite early and, like all habits—good and bad—it’s completely my parents’ fault. Every night before I went to sleep, they would read me a chapter or two of whatever book they’d picked. The first one I vividly remember was Michael Ende’s Die Unendliche Geschichte (The NeverEnding Story), in which a little boy takes refuge in reading a book, only to become a part of its world himself. There was something about the idea of being physically drawn into your favourite book, really living in it, that captivated me immediately. I did my very best to be drawn into a fictional world from that moment on—and not long after, it felt like I’d succeeded.

My parents took my little sister and me on a camping trip to Greece, backpacking through the Peloponnese for a few weeks. Exactly where they found the courage to do this with two children under eight, I’ll never know, but they also brought along a copy of Gustav Schwab’s Gods and Heroes of Ancient Greece. While reading about the war of the Titans, the start of the Trojan War, and the exploits of various gods, I wandered through the ruins of Zeus’ temple, got sunburnt at the Parthenon, and practised being an oracle in Delphi. It was quite a magical summer, and a love for mythology and mischief has stayed with me ever since.

That mischief and magic found me again when I discovered the Harry Potter books or perhaps they discovered me. All I know is that it was love at first read. I spent most of those years either reading the latest book or watching the newest film adaptation. Sometimes, there were bookshop celebrations where grown-ups wore capes and lemonade was served from cauldrons until, at midnight, the new book was revealed. Harry Potter was everywhere, and for a while, it truly felt like we lived in a world where magic might be real. To be honest, that feeling never really left. Only a few months ago, I squealed over the phone to my sister to tell her that our very own English 1 headquarters was now decorated with Fantastic Beasts displays.

Although my love for Harry Potter remained constant, it was eventually pushed aside to make room for a new literary passion. As a teenager, I found myself obsessed with Jane Austen, whose biting wit caught me off guard every time. I practically ignored my family for days while I devoured Pride and Prejudice. I’ve never been a particularly patient reader, so I read most of her works within a few months, despite not having the faintest idea what a carriage actually was. As I worked my way through her novels, I began to feel rather grateful that I couldn’t accidentally disappear into one, as the idea of a world without Wi-Fi, the right to vote, or vaccinations didn’t sound too appealing. So although there was no 18th-century England for me, Austen’s novels did eventually bring me to 21st-century Britain for a degree in English Language and Literature.

At university, I worked my way further and further back through English literature, eventually landing among the earliest, almost mythological, works. Here be dragons! But 8th-century Europe didn’t seem like an ideal place to escape to either, so my grandmother came to the rescue. She lent me her copy of Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China by Jung Chang, which I never returned, and which now has pride of place in my own bookcase. In Chang’s memoir, I discovered an entire history and culture I had never really explored before. That book sparked my fascination with China, but neither my grandmother nor I could have guessed that just a few years later, I would actually be living there.

So yes, picking a single favourite book is difficult when so many have changed your life without you even realising it. I didn’t pick up any of the books mentioned above with the intention of being inspired to teach abroad, or to travel and yet each of them did, in their own way. Depending on when you ask me, any of them or many others could be my favourite. And it would never be a lie.