As a finale to my column, I’m here writing an ode to Archer’s English curriculum and its formidable markers of each school year: the assigned class literature. So, in farewell, I present my top 10 required reading books of my time at the ASFG, ranked worst to best.
The thing about the label “mandatory” is that it takes out any of the fun — it’s just psychology. In eighth grade, we read “We Were Liars,” and I quickly disregarded it and skimmed through its pages (not encouraging skimming behavior). Two years later, I reread the book for leisure and loved it, placing it on my go-to favorites list. Reading for pleasure gave it a whole new spin; the lesson here is that approaching school reading as one of your pleasurable reads may change your opinion on it.
10. Klara and the Sun
Starting with the worst of the worst: “Klara and the Sun” by Kazuo Ishiguro. This book was truly awful. At first, I thought I simply missed the point, and that a class discussion full of thoughtful tenth grade insights would save me. It turns out there is absolutely no salvaging my perception of this book. The book is told from the perspective of a girl’s Artificial Friend — a mix of the “robots resistance,” “ChatGPT comes to life” and “the dolls fight back” tropes. The dystopian science fiction didn’t blend with the arbitrary religious references sprinkled in. Hate is a word I tend to refrain from applying to books, but I must make an exception. I hated this book.
9. Macbeth
Number nine is Shakespeare’s “Macbeth.” Kudos to the faculty for choosing performances over your standard in-class essay, because the class might have failed otherwise. Of the Shakespearian world, this play is far from being top tier. Shakespeare, being as prestigious a playwright as he is, has many stronger, popular works that compete with this narrative. If we are going to study outdated classics, I’d rather we read some Jane Austen.
8. Chronicle of a Death Foretold
Down in the mediocre book territory is “Chronicle of a Death Foretold” by Gabriel García Márquez, which follows a murder mystery set in a small town in Colombia. Some of my peers would definitely disagree with this take, but personally, the magical realism was not my thing; this is interesting, considering lots of its messages cross over into the territory of the books I usually enjoy. The dominant theme of the novella is honor, so if you’re into analyzing classic metaphors for virginity, i.e., whiteness, flowers and purity, maybe you’re more inclined to enjoy this more than I did.
7. The Stranger
In seventh place, I’d place Albert Camus’ “The Stranger.” This ranking would be higher at the time I read it, though, as I was deep in my philosophical phase. The book is designed to make readers introspectively dissect the lines of morality as they pertain to the morally ambiguous protagonist. It explores Camus’ theory of absurdism through the apathetic main character, Meursault. I found the narrative to be too straightforward, considering the philosophical depth it aspires to connect to.
6. The Odyssey
Entering the middle ground here is “The Odyssey” by Homer — an ancient Greek mythic story of hero Odysseus’ quest to relay messages about life’s journey of love, home and family. This book just didn’t land well with a teenage audience, as it was written about a million years ago. I must admit my vendetta against classic novels, as most of them are wrongfully praised in their prestige, but rarely investigated in terms of their prevalence in current society.
5. Purple Hibiscus
At number five is “Purple Hibiscus,” a novel grappling with serious themes about the persistence of love intertwined with family difficulties. In all honesty, if my Google Drive weren’t organized by grade, I wouldn’t have remembered which year we read it. The more I retrace the events in this book, however, the more I remember enjoying it. Obviously, “enjoying” comes with a grain of salt, as my love for reading wasn’t developed as a freshman. Now that my taste is refined, I understand that the author herself, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, is acclaimed and a brilliant, poetic writer whose work is definitely worth pursuing.
4. All Quiet on the Western Front
Ranked number four is “All Quiet on the Western Front,” a World War I novel detailing the true experiences of young boys’ recruitment into war and the horrific scenes they are forced to witness. I was surprised to find myself invested in this book. Good quality war books, and media in general, are far and few between, but this story felt so raw and real that it wonderfully put the reader straight into the plot with its descriptive language and overall illustrative storytelling.
3. Lord of the Flies
On the podium for number three is the first major reading we were assigned in high school—William Golding’s “Lord of the Flies.” Above all, this book fostered such rich discussions that we could spend whole class periods unpacking a single paragraph. Especially in an all-girls setting, analyzing the behaviors of a stranded group of young boys created such a stimulating conversation and brought a whole new life to the purpose of the book and its themes of the nature of man.
2. Tie between Fahrenheit 451 and The Great Gatsby
I mentioned previously that my issue with so many “classic” books is that they are outdated; my #2 ranked spots are a tie that contests that. Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451” and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” are absolute exceptions to my aversion. In a time where book bans are weekly and reading diverse content is so heavily restricted, “Fahrenheit 451” felt like a dystopian version of our modern-day lives, or even a prophecy for what’s to come. Part two of second place, “The Great Gatsby,” is the classic of all classics. With a roaring twenties scene, romance, frivolity and a whole lot of chaos, this read barely felt like a school assignment.
1. The Handmaid’s Tale
Speaking of novels relevant to our current society, the G.O.A.T. of Archer’s required reading is, drumroll please…”The Handmaid’s Tale.” As you can imagine, a group of 16 or so passionate, opinionated teenage girls went crazy in an advanced English discussion about this book. It has all the quintessential feminist arguments of objectification and control over women’s bodies set in a fictional totalitarian society that becomes increasingly less fictional. In analyzing a world where women are stripped of their autonomy and forced into sexual servitude, you can probably imagine the passion these class discussions would ignite.
Archer’s English department and curriculum have evolved the way I write, think critically, develop questions, participate and grow as a person. Required reading often seems like a drag, but since it is mandatory, why not try to embrace it? From artificial friends to handmaids, absurd protagonists to war-torn trenches, these books have shaped the way I see the world — and maybe, more importantly, how I choose to challenge it.

Carole Roskoph • May 23, 2025 at 5:54 am
Maddie:
Your grandmother shared this with me. I have known her for over 30 years and we often talk about books and plays. I was an English teacher for 26 years and love hearing young people’s perspectives on the books we choose for them. I share your feelings about “required” reading and how that usurps the pleasure from the experience. It is a Catch -22 (a book I would highly recommend): making you read them takes the pleasure away; but if we did not make you read them, you may never have the experience of the book.
I agree with most of your assessments. I, too, love The Handmaid’s Tale and All Quiet. Lord of the Flies is one of my favorite books to teach for the very experience that you had with it: the realization that young people have when they understand that literature is so much more than a story. If you like reading magical realism I suggest you read The House of the Spirits — it is my favorite book to teach. My opinion of The Odyssey changed when I switched my perspective from Odysseus to the women in the epic. Think about it. Who are the strongest characters? Circe? Calypso? Penelope fighting the suitors for 20 years? Homer told a story about female empowerment without probably meaning to. I do disagree with two on your list: I am not a big fan of Gatsby. As I have gotten older the self-absorbed characters irritate me. And I do love Macbeth. The struggle of Lady Macbeth with her own power in the patriarchy and the loss of that struggle causing her to go insane speaks to me; the idea of fate v free-will and the question of who is really guilty — Macbeth or the witches — is a philosophical question with no real answer; the “Tomorrow” soliloquy is, for me, some of the best writing ever. As an aside (a little Shakespeare reference), I hate Romeo and Juliet and Othello is my all-time favorite Shakespeare play. At your suggestion, I will now read Purple Hibiscus.
Best of luck to you in your future endeavors. It will be great!
Carole Roskoph