I’ve been reading Margo Lanagan’s posts over at Inside a Dog, where she talks about her travels in the US and such. On a whim I checked out the bio they have for her (you can see it here), and was struck by her answer to the question ‘My favourite book is…’.

I wasn’t perplexed by her answers – you can’t really object to someone else’s answer to that question for all sorts of good reasons – but by the question itself. I love books, and have probably read thousands since I first learnt to read. I love music, and couldn’t tell you how many songs have given me enormous pleasure. And movies, I could watch a day away in front of a screen. But, you want me to pick just one? Why? What is the need to have a ‘best’? Does anyone really have such a thing? I don’t. Not at all.

If I love a given work of art for some reason, I generally love it for a different reasons than I love some other work of art. I mean, I love Bernard Malamud’s The Fixer. It’s a shattering powerful novel that has haunted me for years. Malamud’s portrayal of Yakov Bok is extraordinary. I also love Terry Pratchett’s Small Gods, which is bright and sharp and funny. It resonates in a different part of my mind. Do I like one more than the other? No. I like them different from one another. It’s the same if you’re playing “Highway to Hell” or “So What?”. The driving power of AC/DC is irresistible, but so is Davis’s quintet.

Anyhow, I guess I’ll probably be asked the question again at some time in the future, and I’ll try to answer it to be polite, but it doesn’t make any sense to me. Does it make sense to you?