The question I should have been asking when deciding what to include in my canon came to me when I was watching a cheesy sci-fi movie.

What works would I recommend to an intelligent extraterrestrial to give it an understanding of humanity?

I realize that it is kind of a silly question, but it has helped me focus. It would eliminate most science texts, as we could assume that any being intelligent enough to travel through interstellar space would understand science at least as well as we do. Most philosophy, arguably, could be removed also, as any practical application of it is reflected in other seminal works.

While I understand that a knowledge of science is essential for any 21st century human (American human, anyway), it is not essential that I read Newton’s Principia. Nor is it necessary to read Locke, if we can see his ideas reflected in the US Constitution and the Federalist Papers. Reading summaries of scientific and philosophic ideas would suffice, as the primary texts are no longer part of my canon.

And, because more than 2 or 3 works by a single author (with possibly the sole exception of Shakespeare) would be unnecessary, the list is further narrowed.

But to how many?

That was relatively easy. 247. It is the number of books currently on the large bookcase in my living room. It is also a number that could be digested over a few years, rather than a lifetime, which would be necessary for this hypothetical ET.

More important than all of this, though, is that I will never, in all likelihood, run into this ET, and no one will look to my canon as The Canon for all of human endeavor. I am not a philosopher, nor a scientist, nor a literature professor. My knowledge of any of these subjects does not need to be comprehensive. My canon will be mine alone, and its purpose is to allow me to see the commonality of human experience. Nothing more. To attempt more is get mired in details, be overwhelmed by the enormity of the task, and never get started.

With this focus, I was freed from my own tyranny. I am no longer beholden to the 800 items, many of which are irrelevant to my pursuits. It is no longer a chore I dread, but something I can enjoy over time. It is manageable, and that is what any item on a life-list should be.

Since I decided that the best way to get an understanding of world literature was to define my own canon, I’ve been struggling with a definition. According to Princeton WordNet, a canon is “a collection of books accepted as holy scripture, especially the books of the Bible recognized by any Christian church as genuine and inspired.” This, though, describes the word’s origins, more than its meaning in the sense I am seeking.

Wikipedia has a more helpful definition:

a specified collection of works considered to be both representative and the best of a particular form, genre, or culture.

The problem with this definition is that one has to ask, who is doing the considering?

This is not a new question. Since the concept of a literary canon was introduced, it has caused controversy. But, I am not interested in this debate (if you are, Wikipedia has a brief section on it). The only canon I am interested in is my own.

I started my canon in my late teens, and in the intervening decades, that original type-written, two-page list has bloated to over 800 items. For every book I read from it, I add 2 more. It has not been particularly productive.

I had to ask myself, what was the purpose of creating this canon, and what did I hope to get from reading all of its constituent members? Believe it or not, I had never really answered this question to any satisfaction. I just kept plodding along, reading the books and adding more as I discovered more connections and influences. Back in my days as a Project Manager, I would have called it scope creep.

So, what is the answer to the question, Why? As best as I can come up with so far it is this: to understand what it is to be a human at the turn of the 21st century.

I cannot possibly know everything about every culture that is extant today, let alone all that have come before. But, there is a commonality to the human experience that, by reading those who have written down their thoughts, I can open a window onto that commonality.

But what about those influences and connections? Is it necessary to read Ptolemy in order to understand Kepler? Is it important to know, and read, a minor poet who may had an influence on a major poet, but who really adds nothing to my knowledge of that commonality?

And of those major writers, is it important to read all of their works? Dickens is undeniably a major voice in Victorian England, but must I read all of his works to understand life in 19th century England?

These and other questions nagged me. Until I stumbled on the question I should be asking.