Here's what I read in 2023, with the favorites at the end:
Nonfiction
The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon
At
times charming, informative, or dry as a diary, the work is an excellent window
into court life in the Heian period of Japan, and certainly a faster read than
Shonagon’s rival, Murasaki’s, Genji.
Borderlands/La Frontera by Gloria Anzaldua
A mix
of nonfiction essay and poetry, this landmark text is my introduction to
Chicana feminism, and a very solid intro, if of middling poetic quality.
The Secret Lives of Colors by Kassia St. Clair
A fun,
quick-paced read about the history of different colors, from lead white to
mauve to Kelly green. Some I already knew, perhaps most, but it was still an
enjoyable lens through which to view history.
Zhu Xi by Zhu Xi
The
great confluence of Neo-Confucianism is of interest for anyone intrigued by
Chinese philosophy. Zhu Xi is somewhat harsh regarding the Taoists and
Buddhists, but makes attempts at being begrudgingly accommodating.
Six Records of a Floating Life by Shen Fu
A brief
account of a man’s life at the start of the 1800s in China, notable particularly
for the deep feelings and love for his wife. The rest of the work is relatively
banal, unfortunately, but an important autobiography for those interested in
Sinology.
Whistling Vivaldi by Claude Steele
A fine
little recap of the development of stereotype threat, especially as regards
education, from one of the prominent researchers in the field. I was previously
aware of much of the work, from grad school, but probably a worthwhile read for
someone interested in an introduction to the notions of how stereotypes affect
our performance.
Saving Time by Jenny Odell
I
rarely read pop academia, and this book reminded me why. A scattershot,
meandering collection of fragmentary ideas, all roughly connected to time
(although sometimes not). I got a little interest due to personal proximity – a
lot of the book focuses on the area between Oakland and Santa Cruz. But there
were no clear lessons, logic, or rigor – just some half-baked musings of a
memoir style reflecting on the books, videos, and other sources Odell happened
to think about.
The Dawn of Everything by David Graeber and David Wengrow
Nearly
25 years ago, Jared Diamond’s geographical interpretation of world history
helped revolutionize the field. Now, due for another update, Graeber and Wengrow
have rewritten early human history, with a fascinating and important study of
how societies form. Essential reading for anyone with an historical interest.
Unruly by David Mitchell
Mitchell
is a very funny man – I laughed aloud many times during this survey of English
monarchs from the Roman’s leaving to Elizabeth I. Some of the jokes and
references are very British (unsurprisingly) and topical, but it’s still a fun
way to sort out those various Henrys, Edwards, and Richards.
Fiction
A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
A sort
of ‘Jabberwocky’ of prose, Burgess’ future dystopia uses the slang of the time
– which, of course, is mostly nonsense to us. The plot is nearly the same as
the Kubrick adaptation, with a few key differences: most notably the final
chapter, which was omitted from early American publications. A worthwhile read,
due in part to its brevity.
The Satyricon by Petronius
This
collection of fragments and scattered chapters is just about the right length
to get some amusement from the bawdy story of a ne’er-do-well and his satirical
escapades. If it were extant I doubt I’d have enjoyed it as much, as the humor
is repetitive.
The Tin Drum by Gunter Grass
A
grand, Nobel-worthy comedy, The Tin Drum was a prototype for a whole field of
modernist magical realism, and the main character, Oskar, is a tremendous
companion for some 600 pages. Well worth the investment.
The Castle by Franz Kafka
Bleak
slabs of nearly impenetrably dense monologues make for an unpleasant read –
especially if, knowing it’s Kafka and unfinished, it’s going nowhere.
A Dance to the Music of Time: Third Movement by Anthony Powell
After
an eight-year hiatus, I returned to Powell’s epic narrative, as Nick goes
through the Second World War and middle age. The work remains one of the most
pleasantly readable novels I’ve enjoyed, and paints a vivid picture of wartime
London.
Money by Martin Amis
In an
attempted satire of early 1980s late-stage capitalism, Amis manages to outdo
his father in creating a loathsome character whom you are forced to spend time
with for over 300 pages. Misogynistic, pathetic, and all-around scumbag, John
Self is exactly the sort of voice we’d do well to have less of. The only
(minor) redeeming quality is when Amis let’s his expertise as an author show
off.
Emma by Jane Austen
Having
read, and enjoyed Pride and Prejudice quite a few years back, I was glad to get
a second chance with Austen, and better acquaint myself with her works. Emma is
well-written, and enjoyable, even if the twists in the matchmaker’s plot are
staggeringly obvious to modern readers.
The Sot-Weed Factor by John Barth
There
is nothing to recommend this book. It is tediously long, full of racism and
misogyny, unfunny, and nigh-unreadable. That it was once considered a great
American work is stunning. Briefly: Written in the style of an 18th
century novel, follows a convoluted and irritating account of an idiot in
Maryland in the late 1600s.
The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood
Weirdly,
I figured this out halfway through – which never, ever happens. That said, it
was still a great read, and I thoroughly enjoyed the language and the
characters, which kept the plot – a mystery about a wealthy family during the
inter-war years – moving.
Buddenbrooks by Thomas Mann
An
excellent, sweeping novel of a family’s legacy. Very long on my to-be-read
list, I was not disappointed by the expertly crafted characters, plot, and
language used to depict a German family in the mid-1800s.
The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky
It’s
been a very long time since I’ve read any Dostoevsky. I found this classic tale
of Prince Mishkin to be totally fine – although initially I didn’t pay close
enough attention to the supporting cast of characters since they struck me as
unimportant sketches. The suspenseful conclusion is very memorable, if,
perhaps, not totally unexpected.
Short Letter, Long Farewell by Peter Handke
Another
bastard to enter the infamous pantheon of shithead husbands and/or
self-absorbed white male narcissists. I’d long heard a common refrain: “Handke
is, personally, an asshole. But he’s a great writer.” This novel did nothing to
confirm that view, as the protagonist takes a journey across a totally
fictitious America, the Austrian author, instead, struck me as more Adolph than
edelweiss.
The Desert of Love by Francois Mauriac
A
short, and particularly honest accounting of crushes, desires, and
infatuations. The plot is familiar: a love triangle between a father, son, and
fallen woman. Mauriac, another Nobel laureate, uses his language deftly to
transport you to the setting and inside his character’s thoughts.
Billiards at Half-Past Nine by Heinrich Boll
A very
nice story, excellently written, with a plot that veers just a little too far
into the implausible to be considered more than an allegory, and a true novel.
Boll’s handling of the aftermath of WWII from a German perspective is the best
I’ve encountered yet.
Jacques the Fatalist and His Master by Denis Diderot
The
apotheosis of two centuries of novels, from Gargantua and Pantagruel
through Tristram Shandy – and the most enjoyable of the lot. Diderot
presents a delightful, brisk, narrative, with plenty of humor and well-crafted
stories, and two main characters it’s pleasant to spend time with (which can be
lacking in Rabelais and Sterne). A masterpiece of world literature.
The Years by Annie Ernaux
A
brilliant blend of memoir and novel, The Years provides a roadmap of the world
from the end of the Second World War to the early 21st century. We
identify with our narrator as she chronicles time in an absorbing way,
highlighting the peculiarities of her individual life while masterfully
blending the shared trajectory of the advanced and Western world during these
decades.
Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys
The
postcolonial and feminist prequel to Jane Eyre. A quick, well-written,
novel, but only of interest for those familiar with the 19th century
novel – otherwise its entire impact is lost.
Ariel by Sylvia Plath
I’d
never grappled with Plath, and was overdue. I’m glad to have finally
encountered her brilliant, menacing, poetry (especially in the restored edition
I read). Easily one of the great poets.
Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy
The
unflinching horror and nihilistic bleakness of continental genocide is conjured
forth in remarkably poetic and gorgeous prose – forming the central
juxtaposition, for an American novel, of the great ideas and moving spirit of
this nation contrasted against the miserable violence of its formation.
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
Reading
this encyclopedic novel is like watching a smug toddler perform a Mozart
concerto, and conjures the same dual, dueling, feelings: this is very
impressive – a real work of talent and genius – and I also sort of want to
smack the oh-so-precious precocious brat. At turns ridiculously amusing and
desperately grim, an alternate reality is presented of the late 90s and early
00s, where video cartridges and Quebecois separatism play a far more important
role than panned out, in something adjacent to a mystery, set mostly in
suburban Boston. A nice read for those who love books that are puzzles.
A New Name by Jon Fosse
Claude
Simon is a largely forgotten French Nobel Laureate (1985). His novels present
long inner monologues of stream-of-consciousness and recursion. Within France,
even, he’s not exactly popular. But perhaps Simon’s lack of fame is what caused
the Nobel committee to award Jon Fosse the 2023 prize – because Fosse’s prose
is the same, but less artful, even more pretentious, and even more tiresome.
Critics say Fosse is an excellent playwright – so perhaps this was just the
wrong medium for me to experience his voice… but A New Name was also critically
praised and up for a bunch of awards, so, I’m not so sure.
The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson
A
remarkable piece of near-contemporary sci-fi that deals with tackling climate
change. Only a few chapters in I felt this work was in the company of classics
like Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle – addressing an urgent social issue, in a way
that will still be read in decades to come. One of the best page-turners I’ve
read in a long while.
Growth of the Soil by Knut Hamsun
Hamsun’s
Hunger is a brilliant psychological novel – but he is one of roughly 10
people who won the Nobel largely for a specific work, in his case Growth of
the Soil. It’s a nice novel, and he’s an expert storyteller – a basically
allegorical fable about humanity told through settling the wilds that was a
pleasure to read.
Call It Sleep by Henry Roth
I think
a lot of this book’s reputation comes from its last two chapters which – like
Gatsby – is a nice example of modernism in American lit. The story of a
sensitive boy growing up in New York’s Yiddish-English Jewish tenements at the
turn-of-the-century doesn’t quite come off: Davy’s inner monologue isn’t quite
real, and ends up being jarring, and ringing false.
The Awakening by Kate Chopin
One of
those ‘always meant to’ reads, a strong novella of feminism set in creole New
Orleans at the turn-of-the-century, and worthwhile for anyone wishing to
enhance their American lit.
Graphic
Novels
Saga vol. 10 and 11 by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples
After a four-year hiatus, I returned to this epic,
sprawling world. It was nice to greet an old friend, but I will not be all that
sad to see this series wrap up.
Best Of! It was a particularly strong year for
reading. These are the eight books that got 5 stars, in order.
The Tin Drum
Blood Meridian
The Ministry for the Future*
The Dawn of Everything
Buddenbrooks
The Years
Ariel
Jacques the Fatalist
*If you read it soon – in a decade this will
probably be a 4-star book
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