Here’s the truth about most of what we read—it’s forgettable. It might be thrilling, fascinating, or earth-shattering at the moment, but somehow it merges into the nether regions of the mind and we often barely remember if we even read the piece months later.
However, that’s rarely the case if an author conveys a powerful voice in their piece. (I refuse to use the word “book” instead of “piece” because Tom Wolfe was famous for the voice he brought to magazine pieces, and certain bloggers are irresistible due to the special angle they bring to a topic.) There’s something amazing about a strong voice that tells a tale in such a way that, in a book, can overcome weak plotting or poor pacing or incomplete characters.
Professionals hem and haw about whether writing can be taught. Some say yea, most say nay. I'm in the yea camp--except for voice. You can't make a bore interesting or a mediocrity unique. To some degree, you can teach characterization and plotting and POV, but I would go so far as to say writing with a strong voice is the one part of writing that can’t be taught—you either have it or you don’t.
Most of the canon—Tolstoy, Dante, Shakespeare—and classics—Raymond Chandler, Harper Lee, Marilynne Robinson—are memorable because of their book’s unique voice, inimitable and clear, that sticks with us like that song on the radio that you just can’t get out of your head.
"Greene’s prose has the clarity of a pane of glass, yet it creates an air of menace, almost an airlessness, which intensifies the drama. His simplicity makes him appear modern, and two of his novels, “The End of the Affair” and “The Quiet American”, have been re-made for the screen since 2000."
There’s an entire series of these, covering the voices of Joan Didion, W.G. Sebald, Chaucer, and others worth your consideration.