Here are the books I read in 2021, with favorites at the bottom.
Non-fiction
Two Years Before the Mast and Twenty-Four Years After by Richard Henry Dana
Dana’s
American account of life at sea in the 1830s is notable for his destination –
then then-largely-unknown California. He describes places like San Diego and San
Francisco, a glimpse of the territory prior to the goldrush and settlement.
This edition also has him revisit the land in 1860, which adds significant
interest. That said, Dana’s main account runs about 50 pages too long.
Collection of Sand by Italo Calvino
The
essays in this collection are all in reference to something we don’t get a
chance to see: a museum exhibit, a book he’s reviewing, or his travels. A few
are really great, and stand on their own. But the rest fall a bit short of my
expectations for Calvino.
How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi
Kendi
is very good writer, who uses all the tools in his toolkit to get you to
understand what racism and antiracism are. There are waves of statistics,
logical reasoning, historical context, anecdote, biography, metaphor – all of
which blend into a coherent vision. Not since I read De Beauvoir’s The Second
Sex have I encountered such a well-constructed work designed to produce a sea
change in thought and behavior. An instant classic.
Breaking the Spell by Daniel Dennett
Dennett
approaches the phenomenon of religion from an evolutionary standpoint, asking
why something with a significant investment has survived and thrived, couched
in a memetic framework. An interesting survey of where things stand (or stood,
in 2006) regarding the ideas and the need for more research.
Why Vegan? Eating Ethically by Peter Singer
A very
slim collection of Singer’s thoughts on the ethics and global/climate impact of
a meat-based diet. Well worth a read for anyone unfamiliar with the realities
of slaughter or with an interest in utilitarianism.
Fiction
Under the Volcano by Malcolm Lowry
A
modernist novel which stylistically blends Joyce’s prose with Pound’s obnoxious
poetry. Difficult and various shades of dishonest, it attempts to elevate a
tragedy in ways that just miss the mark. Lowry is a great master of scenery and
character, but the plot doesn’t live up to its intended grandeur.
Selected Stories by Anton Chekhov
My
Chekhov experience was limited to his plays, which I disliked, prior to trying
this collection. As I’d been told, he turned out to be one of the finest short
story authors I’ve ever encountered, with brilliant descriptions, characters,
and plots. In this collection of 30 stories there were a few that weren’t
memorable, but the majority were.
A Crown of Feathers and Other Stories by Isaac Bashevis Singer
Singer
was the final American Nobel Laureate I’d not read – and this collection was a
nice way to get acquainted. His storytelling techniques gave a sense of place
better than person, but I was happy to join him in a shtetl, in Tel Aviv, or on
Riverside Drive, to accompany him on his tales.
Nana by Emile Zola
A few
chapters in I told people that if I never read another account of a nineteenth
century drawing room it might be too soon. That said, the overall moral of the
tale (debauchery and vice will be punished in the end) was fairly boring. I can
see why Zola is increasingly left out of the canon.
Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset
A brick
of a tome, Lavransdatter traces a woman’s life in medieval Norway, in the
1300s, from childhood to old age. Undset, who won the Nobel principally for the
work, is to be commended for her command of style and description, and her rich
portrayal of Lavransdatter’s inner life and thoughts. The persistent, explicit
Catholic message, as always, leaves me wondering just how differently this
woman’s life might have been if she didn’t wear that guilt and shame for having
simply having been in love with a man…
The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy
An
increasingly forgotten English Nobel Laureate, Galsworthy’s reputation rests
upon this collected tome. The innovation seems to be that he approached the
Victorian middle classes with irony, as we follow the unpleasant main character
Soames through his destructive obsession to possess. Not a bad work, but really
only worth reading if you’ve an interest in the end of Victorianism.
My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk
It’s
not really fair of me to judge this book, because I picked it up not knowing it
was a postmodern mystery, and those are two things which, if not done well, I
find intensely unsatisfying. Pamuk’s narrative conceit, of shifting narrators
each chapter, was, unfortunately rather tiresome by around 60 pages in – the
characters still all sounded the same. Not until I was more than halfway
through its 400 pages did it start to pick up, but it’s not an investment I can
really recommend.
The Trial by Franz Kafka
I had
higher expectations for this work – not surprisingly bureaucratic and legalese
language is dull. It’s not a bad work, but I still preferred selected scenes
and Kafka’s short works a bit more.
Herzog by Saul Bellow
My
recollection is of enjoying Augie March, I think, but not really remembering it
– I only recalled a feeling, and none of the plot or characters. So I decided
to try out Herzog. This work seems doomed, due to a profusion of topical
references, to age very badly. It’s philosophical musings border and sometimes
cross into obnoxious pedantism (which the text itself acknowledges). It’ll be
some time until I pick up Bellow again.
The Ginger Man by J.P. Donleavy
Sebastian
Dangerfield is a piece of shit who beats women, neglects his child, starts
fights in pubs, exposes himself in public and runs amok, and drinks. This is
all supposed to be comical. His story is told in modernist prose, which doesn’t
endear it.
Duino Elegies by Rainer Maria Rilke
A
beautiful, astonishing, collection of ten poems – the epitome of the famed
poet’s output and career. In gorgeous, evocative, language, Rilke shows us to
an emotional and intellectual threshold.
The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing
Here’s
a book I wanted to like this far more than I did – the last 150 pages were
fairly insufferable. The premise was fine, if not great: a woman keeps
different notebooks detailing different aspects of her life. By the time we get
to the titular golden notebook, though, I had lost all interest, and actively
disliked the characters and plot.
Play It as It Lays by Joan Didion
I came
to this a Didion fan, but having never read her fiction, I was a little
apprehensive. I was not disappointed – the story is fabulously written, and
captures the Vegas – L.A. zeitgeist of the 1960s. Just the right length, Didion
uses her prose well.
Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazantzakis
This
book is actually loathsome. Every. Single. Chapter. goes out of its way to be
misogynistic. The hatred and venom towards women that suffuses the work is just
gross, and central to the work and its message. That message is also
breathtakingly stupid: Zorba steals, is an absent father and rampant
misogynist, and murders – but it’s all fine, because he has joie de
vivre! Nothing some dancing and wine can’t fix! Offensive, shallow,
existentialism that hopefully will soon be removed from any serious discussions
of 20th century literature.
Ruined by Lynn Nottage
Having
won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama – twice – Nottage has established herself among
the premiere American playwrights of the early 21st century, so I
was eager to read her work. Ruined is a masterful work set in the war-torn
Democratic Republic of the Congo, at a bar and brothel, whose main characters
are the prostitutes who work there. At turns devastating and uplifting, a
definite worthwhile read.
Arcadia by Tom Stoppard
I’d
enjoyed Rosencrantz and Guildenstern a great deal – but upon reading Beckett’s
Waiting for Godot felt retroactively cheated. So I was hesitant to engage
Stoppard again. My wariness was for naught, as it happens, because Arcadia is a
magnificent play (although, again, having read Byatt’s Possession earlier…). An
excellent time-hopping story.
The Complete Poems by Emily Dickinson
After
working my way through 1700 poems, I’m inclined to believe that she has around
a score of great pieces, and maybe a hundred or so good works besides. But the
ratio of quality to drivel and dross was unfortunate. If interested, find a
‘selected works’ instead of a complete.
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
I was a
bit wary of reading another Morrison novel after ‘Beloved’, because how could
anything else measure up? That said, ‘Solomon’ is a wonderful work, with nearly
the same level of brilliant craft and quite possibly greater enjoyment. Worth
reading for anyone familiar with her work, or wanting to be.
Rabbit, Run by John Updike
You
know, I didn’t set out, 18 months ago, to only read novels about terrible
husbands and self-pitying men, but jeez. Harry Angstrom is a very
unpleasant asshole who pathetically clings onto his glory days of being a
basketball star in high school while he lets his life unravel. Updike has a tremendous
command of language – but why he used it for this story is a bit beyond me.
Argonautica by Apollonius of Rhodes
This
slim epic tale – post-Homer but pre-Classical, tells of Jason and his crew of
Argonauts as they sail for the golden fleece. The first two sections tell of
their tribulations on the way to their destination, the third, and easily best,
tells of Jason and Medea and securing the fleece, and a hurried fourth section
relates their return home. Nice, if you’re interested in Greek myths, and your
edition is annotated.
Top 5
6!
Arcadia
Play It
As It Lays
How to
Be an Antiracist
The
Duino Elegies
Song of
Solomon
Ruined
