As always, here is what I read this year, with my top 5 at the end:
Nonfiction
Sister Outsider by Audre Lord
A
collection of nonfiction by Lord covering the 1970s and early 80s. Speaking
from a black, feminist, lesbian experience, Lord articulates a variety of
challenges to sexism, racism, and homophobia in the United States, and within
the feminist and black communities in particular.
The Philosophy of Laughter and Humor by John Morreal
An
anthology from a half century ago that has a few gems (Morreal’s essay on
laughter stands out). A tour of classical theories gives way to (then-)recent
scholarship.
The Joke and Its Relation to the Unconscious by Sigmund Freud
Easily
the most problematic and least useful Freudian text I’ve encountered – of
interest only to a specialist.
A Brief History of the Smile by Angus Trumble
I found
this short book quite enjoyable. The author rambles through whatever
smile-related topics seem to catch his fancy, from Cambodian statues to 19th-century
dentistry and photography in England, and from Japanese prints and courtesans
to the yellow smiley icon.
The Seven Pillars of Wisdom by T.E. Lawrence
Lawrence
of Arabia’s own account of his work and the Arab campaign of World War I. Full
of spite and orientalist stereotyping, offset by innumerable descriptions of
camels and landscapes, and the occasional interesting or well-written section.
The Need for Roots by Simone Weil
Rambling,
problematic, and void of any philosophical rigor, Weil’s work of theological
pronouncements and her prescription for a new France after WWII is mostly
rubbish – with a handful of intriguing passages. Overall non-commendable,
though.
Culture and Imperialism by Edward Said
What
does Jane Austen have to say about Antigua? What role does Italy’s interest in
Somalia play in Verdi? Does Ahab represent American imperialism? I was wary of
Said, having not been fond of his work Orientalism, but this work is definitely
worth a read – if you have some familiarity with authors like Conrad,
Kipling, Lawrence, Ngugi, Achebe, Fanon, et al. I fear it’s a bit dense
otherwise.
Voyage of the Beagle by Charles Darwin
A
mostly entertaining account of Darwin’s trip from Brazil to the Galapagos, and
on to New Zealand, Hawaii, and back. His comments and hints of a theory of
evolution are tucked away in the Galapagos section, and are but few. Long
sections of geological theory also pervade the work, which becomes monotonous –
but these are offset by descriptions of capybaras, coconut crabs, and other fun
wildlife.
Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates
A great
memoir and reflective essay on being black in America – concise, clear, and
compelling. I’d been meaning to get to this for years, and was glad to finally
read it: a must-read for Americans.
Fiction
Sleepwalking Land by Mia Couto
An
excellent account of the hallucinatory, chaotic nature of war. Couto weaves
together animistic visions with magical realism, all in a shimmering prose that
reflects and reinforces the mirages of the characters’ impossible reality.
The Man Without Qualities by Robert Musil
A
modernist tome, the first two sections comprise a satirical, but not cynical,
narrative of an Austrian navigating various intellectualisms on the eve of
World War One. If Musil had ended the work there, it would have been a great
book. Instead, in the third section, he introduces a long-lost sister, and the
narrative takes a right turn. It was incomplete upon his death, so this section
ends abruptly, and a vast collection of posthumous scraps follow – Musil didn’t
have a narrative in mind, and so he tries out all sorts of scenarios – it remains
unclear what he intended for the work. The philosophy is at times crystalline,
and at times suffers the fate of any philosophy that isn’t grounded in logical rigor.
Worthwhile, perhaps, for those with an interest in Modernism of the
turn-of-the-century.
Swami and Friends, The Bachelor of Arts, The Dark Room, and The English Teacher by R.K. Narayan
This
tetralogy is apparently ¾ autobiographical: Narayan tells of a boy, a youth,
and a man in Swami, Bachelor, and Teacher. These give an interesting insight
into upper-middle-class life in South India in the 1930s. The Dark Room is told
from a female perspective, and along with Swami and Bachelor presents a formula
of an unanticipated spiritual crisis requiring resolution and an ambiguous
ending. The English Teacher is told instead from a first-person perspective,
and is something of a disappointment. Spiritualist content (talking to the
dead) takes up a significant portion of the work’s back half, presented fully
straight-faced, which is off-putting. But the first three novels are worth a
look if it’s an era of interest.
Red Harvest by Dashiell Hammett
A very
nice murder mystery, full of novel twists and turns. I’d enjoyed The Maltese
Falcon many years ago, and was glad to revisit the hardboiled story-teller.
Definitely open to reading more of his works someday.
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy
An overall
excellent novel, page-turning, inordinately well-written, and engrossing. I
have read so much Tolstoy over the years, but this was easily my favorite,
after Ilych. The two main drawbacks are the last fifty pages, and the extended
section relating the provincial elections – were it not for these it would be
one of the best epic novels I’ve read.
The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead
The
excellent story, from an author who has quickly established himself at the
forefront of contemporary fiction. The journey of Cora is engrossing,
challenging, and uplifting by turns. Only a few years old, it seems destined to
be a classic, an entrant into the canon of black American literature alongside
Morrison, Wright, Baldwin, and Ellison.
And Quiet Flows the Don by Mikhail Sholokhov
A
Soviet realist historical epic of the Don Cossacks through WWI, the Revolution,
and the following Civil War. The characters are not given their due
development, and so the history and setting take the majority of the focus. Glad
I read it since it deals with a region that is currently so important in global
affairs, and is considered a masterpiece in Russia.
Mahabharata translated and abridged by Kamala Subramaniam
One of
India’s foundational texts, this abridgement (still a hefty 850 pages) contains
the leadup and war of the Pandavas, and its aftermath – including the famous
section of the Baghavad Gita at the start of the battle. A remarkable epic of
war, the work also untangles the complications of trying to live a life
according to dharma.
Horace edited by Paul Quarrie
I’d
long meant to grapple with this ancient Roman author, but this volume, from the
‘Everyman’ series, proved problematic. The translations are all done by
different authors (including some very good ones: Dryden, Byron, Merwin), most
from the 16th-19th centuries, so there is no stylistic
consistency, and the Shakespearean language can sometimes be a pain. I’m at
least averagely competent when it comes to Greco-Roman mythology and history,
but without annotations some poems were even more inaccessible. I came away
feeling I’d still not met Horace.
Desertion by Abdulrazak Gurnah
The
Tanzanian-born Nobel laureate’s novel is pretty clearly autobiographical – yet
it feels like two separate stories and separate writing exercises. Separated by
generations, with a theme of desertion (parents, norms, country) two
lightly-interconnected narratives unfold of life in Tanzania and Zanzibar in
the era of colonialism and independence.
To This Day by S.Y. Agnon
A short
novel – almost a novella – of a young Jewish man wandering around Berlin in the
First World War. Nice enough account, but I’m not entirely sure what its
purpose was.
Krik? Krak! By Edwidge Danticat
A short
story compilation by an acclaimed Haitian author, the inter-generational tales
have connections throughout. A great collection from a powerful voice.
Voss by Patrick White
Australia’s
only literary Nobel Laureate, White’s prose doesn’t quite measure up to his
themes and intentions, it seems, in his retelling of a voyage to chart the
interior in the 1840s. The handling of the significant aspects of indigenous
aboriginal elements, also, is fairly grating to a modern reader’s
sensibilities.
A Sentimental Education by Gustave Flaubert
A very
enjoyable read, which doesn’t quite match Madame Bovary’s brilliance, but is
nonetheless an engaging story with great characters and language. Frederic
stumbles through life trying to make decisions and direct his own future, only
to find it mostly out of his hands – especially his romances.
The Hunger Angel by Herta Muller
The
only other camp literature I’ve read on par with Solzhenitsyn – it’s no wonder
Muller won the Nobel the same year this masterful work was published. The story
of struggling to survive in a Soviet labor camp is told with exacting and
haunting, sparse prose.
The Confessions of Nat Turner by William Styron
On the
one hand, a white author writing Nat Turner as a complex, heroic figure, is an
impressive turning-point in our literature. On the other hand, taking Turner,
who is largely a cypher, and choosing to portray his character according to
odious stereotypes, makes for an unpleasant read. It’s probably for the best
that Styron’s treatment has become increasingly forgotten, despite, in the
1960s, having won a Pulitzer Prize.
Atonement by Ian McEwan
An
excellent and interesting take on the post-modern novel, with a self-awareness
that’s neither cloying or too pedantic. The story is saved by its excellent
characters and plot, and not only held afloat by its language and intrigue.
Telling of fateful interactions in the first half of the century, I can
understand why McEwan is so revered.
The Prospector by JMG Le Clezio
An
almost allegorical tale of a youth spent in Mauritius, searching for treasure,
finding love, and crashing, as waves, against the violence of civilization and
war. Le Clezio, who won the Nobel in 2008, is adept at setting and mood, but
the quest for pirate’s gold feels like an excuse to soak in the West Indian
Ocean’s sun.
A Handful of Dust by Evelyn Waugh
Possibly
one of the most venomous novels ever written – a satire so vicious as to lose
its humanity in the third act. The first two thirds of Tony Last’s unravelling
are humorous, but the ending (seeped in colonial racism, to boot) ruins the
thing.
The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen
A
great, almost Victorian, family portrait – albeit cast dysfunctionally, and in
the late 1990s. Franzen’s prose is excellent, and his characters and settings
all-too-real. The deliberately blurred line between tragedy and farce makes for
a memorable read, as do the relatable dynamics between parents and children.
The Way of All Flesh by Samuel Butler
One of
the best Victorian novels I’ve ever encountered – but enjoyable to the degree
in which I’m not particularly fond of Victorian novels. Amusing and insightful,
the story tells of the youth of a young man’s trials, in an innovative voice
and compelling style. A well-recommended read.
The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
Roy
captures the linguistic playfulness of childhood better than most authors, and
for that alone the novel would be noteworthy. Thematically, and in terms of
structure and plot, the novel echoes other great works, sometimes a little too
familiarly – twins in a small town in India, a pickle factory, and so forth.
But overall, a very good story.
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark
A great
cautionary tale of the influence of teachers upon their students. Set in the
years leading up to WWII, Miss Brodie cultivates a set she thinks promising –
but her breezy, undisciplined self-assurance becomes that which all of her set
eventually slough off, and grow out of – leaving Brodie more alone than before.
Top
5 6! of 2022
Atonement
Between
the World and Me
The
Underground Railroad
Sleepwalking
Land
The
Hunger Angel
The Way
of All Flesh
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