The best new book I have read so far this year is Ben Fountain's Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk, and I'll be very surprised if I read a better one in the remaining five months. If it wasn't a debut novel (he had already published a short story collection), I'd be tempted to call it the work of a master at the top of his game. As it is, I just have to say that it isn't surprising that Fountain spent a good 20 years perfecting his craft before this book was published. It contains prose so good that it left me purring with delight, not to mention roaring with laughter. The story too is compelling and beautifully constructed. It tells of a a company of troops who have returned to the US as heroes after they were filmed taking on Iraqi insurgents in a fierce against-the-odds firefight - and who are now being paraded at a halftime show during an American football game. In detailing the desperate need for heroes that everyone displays around this troop of baffled and increasingly drunk young men, it investigates one of the fundamental cravings in our society. And it captures a fundamental contradiction in showing how unsettling the heroes find the situation, and how attitudes towards them change as soon as they demonstrate that they are normal men rather than mythical beings. Heroism is a tough business.
Just as I was finishing Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk, the terrible events in Woolwich took place. Fountain's narrative rang true in all sorts of uncomfortable ways. It wasn't just that Lee Rigby was wearing a Help For Heroes t-shirt when he was attacked, it was the story of Ingrid Loyau Kennett. When I first read about her bravery I found myself welling up, immensely grateful for this sign that humans can do good things as well as bad, eager to discover as much as I could about her story. But, of course, she found it strange and unsettling to be part of the media storm, declaring even that she felt "like a fraud". And so, I suppose, it has always been. We love stories of heroism – but heroes themselves are often less certain about their role, less sure they want to be pushed onto such a precarious pedestal.
The unease of heroes can lead to great stories showing the best and worst of humanity, and illuminate our fundamental confusion about most things. Naturally, it is a mainstay of literature. It's been a big theme ever since Achilles decided that he didn't like the pressure of being the number one Trojan-basher and opted out of Agaememnon's army (a story most recently explored in Madeline Miller's Orange prize-winning The Song of Achilles). It should provide rich fodder for the Reading group, taking in everything from Hemingway's broken heroes to Atticus Finch to Frodo Baggins.
And then of course, there are the anti-heroes: Raskolnikov, Ignatius J Reilly and, of course, Don Quixote. We don't need to stick to fiction either. As you might expect, the most moving stories of heroism are generally real. A few years ago Penguin released a great series of true-life second world war stories such as George Psychoundakis's The Cretan Runner. On that topic there's also Ill Met By Moonlight, as well as less likely heroes such as Eric Newby and his wonderful Short Walk In The Hindu Kush …
But now I'm getting over-excited and starting to reel out a great long list – and that's your job! So please leave a nomination and ideas about heroism below.
I have one last contribution: a few days ago I received a copy of She Landed By Midnight, a new book from Carole Seymour-Jones telling the astonishing story of Secret Agent Pearl Witherington. This was a woman who organised a secret army in France and played a crucial role in ensuring the success of the D-Day landings by delaying a Panzer division's progress to the beaches. She was astonishing, by the sound of it. But had you heard of her? And there lies another sadness of heroism: that so many remarkable people have been forgotten and so many remain unsung. We can help right that wrong in a small way today by giving away 10 copies of She Landed By Moonlight to the first 10 people to nominate a book they'd like us to discuss next month – and to post an "I want" alongside that nomination. If you're in the first 10 you will get a copy, so long as you also remember to email your address to Ginny.Hooker@guardian.co.uk - we can't track you down ourselves.
