Here are the books I read in 2020, with favorites at the bottom.
Non-Fiction
The Discoveries by Allan Lightman
A
collection of 25 papers (for 22 discoveries) that changed the course of 20th
century science. A very good, well-explained work. Having been published in
2005 it is increasingly dated (the Higgs boson is still referred to as
theoretical, for example) but all in all an excellent place to start to get a
good sense of how much science changed in the last century, and what the most
important discoveries and breakthroughs were.
Lives of the Caesars by Suetonius
The
gossipy account. I have, at this point, read Plutarch, Livy, Tacitus, Gibbon,
and Mommsen. Suetonius is sort of fun – a contrary version of Plutarch’s
upstanding models, a contrast in vices. I highly doubt I’ll have cause to ever
revisit the Julio-Claudians after this, though. Apparently Graves’ great ‘I,
Claudius’ is based on Suetonius, so that may be a more enjoyable work for readers.
Dhammapada
I
realized, with a bit of surprise, I’d not actually read the Dhammapada in full,
so I went ahead and read it. A short little work, but an excellent distillation
of Buddhist ideas.
Popol Vuh Trans. Dennis Tedlock
Mesoamerican
mythology was mostly a blank for me – but this excellent edition of the Mayan
creation story helped fill in a lot of gaps, and lay a foundation from which I
can continue to learn more. Plus, much of it is a genuinely enjoyable series of
myths.
A Distant Mirror by Barbara Tuchman
The
subtitle is “The Calamitous 14th Century” – but this is not quite
the case. Tuchman focuses her entire tome on Europe, and further almost
exclusively through the eyes of France, which she asserts was the most important
kingdom of the age. That said, it is a very good account of France during that
century, and she handles the main European issues of the Hundred Years War,
plague, and Great Schism well.
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
The
poetic and page-turning memoir is a deserving classic, and one of the finest
memoirs I’ve ever read. Angelou tells of growing up as a black girl in locales as different as
Stamps, Arkansas and San Francisco.
Arthashastra by Kautilya
I
engaged in a lot of world-building as a kid, but man, Kautilya went overboard…
He creates a hypothetical state and covers every aspect of its existence, from
how the king chooses allies, to how to manage elephant forests, to pay scales
for prostitutes, to the architectural design of your treasury building, to…
The Rise of the Novel by Ian Watt
The
title is misleading in scope, and should be amended to “The Importance of
Defoe, Richardson, and Fielding in the Rise of the English Novel”. It’s fine,
then, for that.
The Philosophy of Leibniz by Bertrand Russell
Out of
respect for Russell I’ve carried this around, unread, since I took a class on
Leibniz while studying abroad in 2007. I finally read it, and it’s fine. Very
limited in appeal – only those who are familiar with Leibniz are likely to get
anything out of it, and I’m at a point in my life where these old philosophical
debates no longer move me.
The Conquest of Bread by Peter Kropotkin
Read
this as part of the newly revised Penguin Great Ideas series – very optimistic, and nearly
nonsensical. The rhetorical equivalent of “Phase 1: Get the people mad. Phase
2: ???? Phase 3: Profit!” Only, in this case, replace ‘profit’ with
‘functioning anarcho-communism’. Yeah, right.
Bushido: The Soul of Japan by Inazo Nitabe
Also
read as part of the new Penguin Great Ideas. Written for Western audiences in
1900, this work has many of the issues of that era, but all in all is a very
interesting little study of the role of Bushido, the samurai code, in what was
then a fast-changing Japan.
Records of the Grand Historian: Han, Vol. 1 by Sima Qian
Western
historians have debated and stewed over Tacitus’ most famous passage – the
funeral oration of Pericles. Was Tacitus really there to hear it? Did he just
make it all up? If he was there, could it be a blend of memory and myth? Sima
Qian’s work does not present this problem. His history, detailing the early
years of the Han Dynasty, is 500 pages describing battles and court etiquette,
and, most importantly, dramatic dialogues and monologues, some of them pages
long, that almost certainly never happened. So… is it a history? Kind of? It
feels more like a blend of Plutarch’s morals and Herodotus’ disregard for
objectivity.
The Protestant Ethic and the ‘Spirit’ of Capitalism by Max Weber
A once-heralded
work, Weber’s hypothesis is simple: Protestant countries, because of their
faith, were more inclined to foster capitalist practices. In 1905 that was a
startling rebuke to the dialectic theories of the day. Weber’s work was an
important milestone in the nascent field of sociology, but his conclusions have
(demonstrably, and rigorously) been shown to be false. More of an interesting
read in the history of sociology, then, than anything else.
The Sea Around Us by Rachel Carson
This
delightful short work is a fun time capsule of oceanographic research in the
early 1950s. Much of the scientific work remains just as relevant now (how the
tides work, the currents) while some aspects are dated (this is pre-plate
tectonics, and a chapter tries to figure out climate change unsuccessfully),
but no less interesting. Carson’s excitement comes across with every as-then
unknown facet left to study.
Fiction
Lucky Per by Henrik Pontoppidan
This
turn-of-the-century work deals with a young man who screws up his life twice:
first attempting to be a Great Man, when the world is handed to him on a silver
plate, and then again when he rejects all that he gets a second chance – the
provincial, rooted family life. He screws that up to. Then he dies.
An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser
Dreiser.
Once lionized in the American canon. I finally grappled with him, and his magum
opus – and found that he has been justifiably cast aside. There are two good
reasons: first, he over-writes and piles on far too much. Second, and worse, a
lack of respect for his own characters pervaded the work – an irony and mean
tone that unfolds across this 800-page melodrama. We have many better writers
now.
The Story of the Stone by Cao Xueqin and Gao E
The
massive, five-volume classic novel deals with the fortunes and foibles of a
well-to-do Chinese family. The first 80 chapters have a certain slowness and
style – playing with poetry, subtlety, and nuance that can become a bit
exhausting. The last 40 chapters, edited by someone else, are much brisker, but
also less adept, stylistically. As is, I preferred the later sections, even if
they weren’t as well-written. Beyond the main character, Bao-Yu, and his very
immediate circle, I had little interest in anyone else. And so, after 2 ½
years, I’m glad to have finished it, and to be able to say I’ve read all of the
Four Chinese Classics.
Possession by A.S. Byatt
A book
only for the initiated, with little tolerance for those not already very
well-versed in the Western canon: Victoriana, Norse legends, Medieval Breton
mythology, and so forth. It’s well-written otherwise, and Byatt juggles a
variety of voices convincingly, while giving the reader many intrigues: two
romances, two good old-fashioned whodunnits, and one solid post-modern heap (or
commentary) of literary philosophy and academic navel-gazing.
The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa
Published
posthumously this collection of aphorisms and ‘essays in idleness’ are an
interesting, if not uncommon, male, solo voce, existentialist perspective on
life. While perhaps well worth reading – Pessoa has a beautiful command of
language – there is some tedium to the work.
Segu by Maryse Conde
Interesting
for historical details, if not particularly adeptly written. The story tells of
the changing times of the West African city Segu, and a noble family whose sons
live lives lousy with coincidence and magical realism.
Native Son by Richard Wright
A
long-overdue read. Wright’s fatalism makes the book challenging, but after the
first two thirds the final third is stronger – but plagued with certain
difficulties and issues which effect other classics about race and justice,
such as To Kill a Mockingbird. Whether this work would be an adequate
replacement for Lee’s increasingly challenged text is an issue that came to
mind frequently throughout, albeit not one which I felt I had an answer.
The War of the End of the World by Mario Vargas Llosa
A
massive historical fiction, I would probably have enjoyed this work of Brazil’s
sertao region more if I had not read Rosa’s brilliant 'Grande Sertao: Veredas'. That
said, Llosa’s work takes the first third to warm-up, but then becomes stronger,
telling a not-quite-page-turning tale of religious fanaticism and brutality.
Blindness by Jose Saramago
An
excellent allegory, of an epidemic of blindness, and its results. Perhaps
heightened in intensity due to Covid, this was a page-turner from a clear
master story-teller. Saramago’s peculiar writing style (avoiding names and
quotations when speaking, lengthy sentences – but in no ways onerous) didn’t
inhibit the novel in any way, but fit the theme well.
Rashomon and Seventeen Other Stories by Ryonosuke Akutagawa
A few
nice short stories from a well-regarded Japanese author, dealing with themes of
morality, death, and insanity. The final section is autobiographical, and
somewhat dulled the enjoyment of the earlier pieces.
The Old Wives’ Tale by Arnold Bennett
Bennett
is another turn-of-the-century novelist who was admired at the time, and now
nearly forgotten. This work, considered his best, shows off that he was a good
storyteller, but not a very good writer. He’s not actually bad, but definitely
not first-rate. That said, it must have been rare, a century ago, to dedicate
nearly half of a 600-page work telling the lives of two sisters (Sophia who is
worldly and sophisticated and Constance who never leaves her home town – get
it?) by focusing on their middle and old age. Some passages are
well-written and genuinely amusing, and there is some depth – which, like the
main story, deserved a better author.
Averno by Louise Glück
After
Glück won the Nobel Prize I immediately tracked down her work. I was deeply
moved by the collection, which dealt with death, trauma, Persephone, and
family, and understood why she had been given the award.
The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann
Parts
of this are really excellent – some truly great passages and work that deeply
resonates. But then so much of it, unfortunately the majority, is practically
unreadable, it makes for a work that feels more ‘important’ than ‘good’. My
eyes glazed with very troubling frequency after the first three hundred pages.
The Sportswriter by Richard Ford
After 'The Magic Mountain' I
wanted something very light, but instead got this. Come, spend 400 pages with
Frank Bascombe, the New Jersey divorcee of the early 1980s – and easily one of
the most unpleasant characters I’ve encountered in fiction. As punchable as
Melville’s Bartleby, as self-deluded as Gordimer’s conservationist, and as
smiley as Nurse Ratched, having to spend this much time with Bascombe is more a
punishment for the reader than anything else.
Flights by Olga Tokarczuk
About
30-40 pages in I realized I’d read this “unclassifiable” work before – only it
was written by ‘Geoffrey Crayon’. Flights is a mashup of fiction, reflective
essays, and short entries that sounds similar to Joan Didion in tone, and
focuses on themes of permanence and transience, circa 2007. It’s a nice work, well worth a look.
The Woman Who Had Two Navels and Tales of the Tropical Gothic by Nick Joaquin
My
introduction to Filipino literature. Joaquin’s stories teeter between short
story and novella in length, each using magical realism to explore a single
vivid concept. The long play “Portrait of the Artist as Filipino” is also
included, and explores some interesting territory as well. A worthwhile read.
The French Lieutenant’s Woman by John Fowles
An
excellent postmodern novel, which manages to still keep the reader’s interest
in the main narrative despite the intellectually meta themes. A century after
the height of the Victorian era, Fowles muses on that society, and follows his
character’s journey with seeming unknowing interest.
The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
I was
initially wary of a story of China told by an American in the 1930s, but that
fear was unfounded. Chinese literature, historically, rarely if ever dealt with
the farming class, and Buck presents her family with empathy and brisk, solid
story-telling.
The Annotated Archy and Mehitabel by Don Marquis
A
selection of newspaper columns between 1916 and 1922 by Marquis built on the
premise of a cockroach named archy (lowercase intentional), inhabited by a
reincarnated poet, who jumped on the typewriter keys to produce free verse
poetry. Mehitabel, whose tribulations are related by archy, was an unrepentant
alley cat, another reincarnate, who was once Cleopatra. Occasionally amusing, and as the years went
on, philosophic.
Graphic
Novels
Solutions and Other Problems by Allie Brosh
The
follow-up to Allie Brosh’s 'Hyperbole and a Half', this is far, far darker. That
said, it is still a captivating read, but more of a personal journey than the
previous book, which was a gallimaufry of amusing and poignant anecdotes with
no real sense of order.
Top 5
Averno
The
French Lieutenant’s Woman
Blindness
I Know
Why the Caged Bird Sings
The
Discoveries
Honorable Mentions
Flights
Native
Son
The
Book of Disquiet
The
Popol Vuh
Solutions
and Other Problems
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