Tim Russell’s Top Ten Favorite Novellas

1. Cannery Row, by John Steinbeck
It’s the greatest book ever about party planning. It also features a grisly and haunting few pages on the scary, cat-loving Mrs. Talbot. If it weren’t called “Chapter XXIV,” I’d swear it was a perfect short story rather than a part of my favourite novella.

2. Breakfast at Tiffany’s, by Truman Capote
“[D]o you happen to know any nice lesbians… I simply can’t afford a maid; and really, dykes are wonderful homemakers.”

3. The Breast, by Philip Roth
It’s either a slim and sexy novel or a long and dirty joke. I’m convinced it’s the latter but I’ve been told off for sharing this view too many times.

4. Heart of Darkness, by Joseph Conrad
I give this book to eleven year-olds boys who come to my library and tell them that it’s an adventure story. I’ve not met one yet who enjoyed it. It’s also fun to play “Was Conrad a Racist?” at parties after you’ve read it.

5. Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson
I give this book to eleven year-olds boys who come to my library and tell them it’s science fiction. The results have been no better than with Conrad. Whatevs. It’s ace.

6. The Toth Family, by Istvan Orkeny
Orkeny is a wonderful Hungarian writer whose work I’ve only seen in bookshops there. This novella makes my list in part because it describes a man being cut and folded like a cardboard box. The whole text is bizarre but always lucid.

7. The Stepford Wives, by Ira Levin
Most of Levin’s novels are out of print in the U.K. so I had to buy this novel with Nicole Kidman on the cover. The novella simulates and deforms the squabbles, tensions and book groups of rich suburbia. The cover still annoys me.

8. The Comfort of Strangers, by Ian McEwan
I spent my whole time reading this novel thinking “get to the rape” You know something bad is going to happen from Chapter One and I was jumping at doorbells until that something bad happened.

9. Love and Friendship, by Jane Austen
I hate using words like “satire” and “pastiche.” There’s only one word for it: this novella is a clear diss. It’s a diss of the eighteenth century novel but a diss is always fun, no matter how dry its target.

10. Foe, by J.M. Coetzee
I like this novella more due to my taste in music than my literary preferences. Foe is both a quick Greatest Hits (with the colonial oppression, mutilation and misogyny from his other works forced into a hundred-and-something pages) and an awkward hip-hop remix of Robinson Crusoe.

Tim Russell is a young writer from Manchester. He has written a story collection called Sudden Scripture, set mainly in this city, and is now writing a novel about its suburbs. Find him online HERE.

Adam Robinson’s Top Ten Favorite Novellas

These are in no particular order.

The Earthquake in Chile, by Heinrich von Kleist is amazing. It’s so far ahead of its time (and our time, too, I think). It was written well before The Scarlet Letter, and manages to deal more humanely with similar concepts. And it’s more violent. And it’s probably no big deal but I’m impressed when writers in the early 19th century manage to write so well about countries so far away. Ah, you brainy Europeans.

Light Boxes, of course. I think Shane Jones has done something really new with that story. I’m not referring to the meta elements, though they are new at least in the way he pulls off the author/character thing so well. I’m thinking more of the overwhelming interaction between the animals and the humans. It’s amazing the things he has the animals doing in that book.

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde blew me away. I think it was the first “classic” I read after I started reading more contemporary or unknown stuff and it reminded me of why classics are classics, how good they can be.

I probably think about Bartleby, the Scrivener more than any other book, because I so often prefer not to work. But that’s too obvious for this list so I’ll mention Naive, Super by the Norwegian author Erlend Loe. I breezed through this book and was slightly off put by the narrator’s reticence, but overall I thought it was very moving. It might be the first book I read that relied so heavily on lists, too.

The Gambler, by Dostoevsky, is as complete and fully realized as any of his massive novels. This is one of the books he wrote real quick to get a paycheck so he could keep writing Demons (I think it was). Amazing. It’s such a good story of addiction and messed up families. Also, I love hotels and there are a lot of them in this.

Goodbye, Columbus was an early influence, or at least motivation, for me to keep writing. I was probably 19 when I read it and I thought if that’s what Philip Roth can do at 28, I ought to be able to accomplish something like that. I remember specifically feeling moved by the description of the girl climbing out of the pool and sticking her finger inside her bathing suit to make an adjustment. So sexy!

The Pedersen Kid, by William H. Gass, is something I like recommending to people lately. I don’t know which aspect of his writing is my favorite—the localized epic struggle or his voice or the way he understates the big things that happen. I think I read the father’s death in that story more times than I’ve read anything else.

Agape Agape, by William Gaddis works for me the way other people read Notes from Underground. The narrator’s ramblings are at times hilarious, at times befuddling and esoteric, and occasionally they are brilliantly instructive. I wish Vonnegut had read this before writing Player Piano.

Gould, by Stephen Dixon, is “a novel in two novels,” but really I think it’s either one novel or two novellas. Along with Goodbye, Columbus, this book proves that writing about white kids losing their virginity is still valid. There’s a scene in the beginning when Gould is with a girl and he feels around her butthole and she says, “Not there, it might be dirty” and Gould says, “Ah, I don’t care about morality.”

The Sanza Affair, by Brian Evenson, is intense and precise. This is Evenson at his best, mesmerizing in his exactitude, and that fits because the detective in this story is so meticulous. He carries around peas in a baggie.

Adam Robinson is a playwright, guitarist, and the founder of Publishing Genius Press. His first book of poetry, Adam Robinson and Other Poems, will be released by Narrow House Press in July 2009. Find him HERE.

Cooper Renner’s Recommended Novellas

1-4. The Stone Book Quartet, by Alan Garner
“The Stone Book,” “Granny Reardun,” “The Aimer Gate,” “Tom Fobble’s Day”. These four novellas are among the most remarkable works of the 20th century. Ostensibly children’s books, they come closer to being Thomas Hardy filtered through a Modernist sensibility. Spanning roughly 80 years, each novella taking place on one pivotal day in the life of a young member of the same family, The Stone Book Quartet is that rarest of things, a virtually perfect work of verbal imagination.

5. The Bookshop, by Penelope Fitzgerald
Fitzgerald is as lean and perfect as Garner. Humorous (if often in a very dark way), suspicious of those who consider themselves arbiters, unwilling to sweeten life’s darknesses.

6. Land of the Snow Men, by George Belden (aka Norman Lock)
Polar exploration becomes intellectual and imaginative recreation in yet another of Lock’s amazing works.

Cooper Renner edits the online magazine elimae. Mosefolket, his new and selected poems (published under the name Cooper Esteban), was released last year by Alhambra/Ravenna Press. He writes the “In Dissent column” at Web del Sol. Find him HERE.

Kathryn Regina’s Favorite Novellas

Here are some short works I’ve liked:

The Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka

The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemingway

The Revisionist, by Miranda Mellis

Light Boxes, by Shane Jones

Arthur, by Matthew Savoca

Summer Scientists, by Della Watson

Letters to Wendy’s, by Joe Wenderoth

Kathryn Regina lives in Chicago. Her chapbook i am in the air right now was released from Greying Ghost Press on April 1st. She blogs HERE.