Cristina Garcia shares some of her favorite books, ranging from Vladimir Nabokov's Speak, Memory to García Márquez's The General in His Labyrinth Read a conversation with Cristina García. COLLECTED STORIES by Anton Chekhov—because no on writes with as much humanity and understanding of human nature as he. PEDRO PARAMO by Juan Rulfo—because it grows more mysterious and miraculous with each re-reading. THE LEOPARD by Giuseppe di Lampedusa—because it brings 19th century Sicily—and one of its unforgettable princes—to vivid life. SPEAK, MEMORY by Vladimir Nabokov—because it speaks, rapturously, of a lost world, that of Russia before 1917. LABYRINTHS by Jorge Luis Borges—because intelligence and imagination have never been so ecstatically merged. THE BARON IN THE TREES by Italo Calvino—because it agilely suspends my disbelief with grace and rollicking good humor. THE PERIODIC TABLE by Primo Levi—because it brilliantly breaks new autobiographical ground. ANNA KARENINA by Leo Tolstoy—because authorial omniscence has never been the same since. MADAME BOVARY by Gustave Flaubert—because to know well the heart of one woman, is to know us all. ORLANDO and MRS. DALLOWAY by Virginia Woolf—because her language and powers of observation are second to none. AUNT JULIA AND THE SCRIPTWRITER by Mario Vargas Llosa—because this early effort is unbuttoned, honest, and hilarious. THE GENERAL IN HIS LABYRINTH by Gabriel García Márquez—because I learned more about power and machismo in this fictional portrait of Simon Bolivar than anything else I've ever read. AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF RED by Anne Carson—because it surprises at every turn and makes room in my heart for unlikely creatures. RUNNING IN THE FAMILY by Michael Ondaatje—because I couldn't stop laughing all the way through. THE EMIGRANTS by W.G. Sebald—because it questions what we think we know, what passes for history in an exquisitely elegant way.