Category: Books

In February I finished off the Inspector Gamache series by Louise Penny. Well, almost. I haven't reread the most recent two novels, but I read them first, earlier last year; they were my introduction to Penny.  I will go back to them, perhaps this spring, perhaps during the summer, as I do want to read them again and finish off the sequence, this time in order.  I am certain to understand things I did not understand before, although the novels wee completely enjoyable, even out of sequence.  

In fact, I think the novels are all readable more than once as I found them enjoyable on many levels, both for the writing, for the story, the character development, and for their insights into human nature and the struggles we all carry with us.  In that sense the books were also good companion pieces to both Anne Lamott's Hallelujah Anyway, which was a gift, a gift that has now been passed on to another reader, and Mark McIntosh's Mysteries of Faith.

The Lamott book is a quick read.  I like Lamott and she has a way of getting at the essence of things in a friendly way, as if you are having a conversation with your neighbor down the street, except that instead of complaining about the neighbor's dog who barks all the time you are comparing notes on faith and life's journeys.  That said, although it is timely, it was not my favorite of Lamott's books; like that coffee conversation, although the points will probably resonate over time, the conversation itself is enjoyed in the moment and then quickly retreats into the babble of life, yes to bubble up occasionally, but otherwise happily subsumed in the stream.

Mysteries of Faith is another kind of book altogether.  It is dense and thought-provoking.  This was the second time I read the book, and I enjoyed it more than during my first reading, early in 2017.  I liked the book then as well, but I also struggled.  The book is part of the year 4 curriculum for EFM and last year, in my year 4 group, I often felt like I was the only person in my group who enjoyed the book, who found it enlightening and thought-provoking.  I hate to admit that I felt embattled by other opinions, but I did.  This year I am a mentor, and I have read the book again, and this time, not needing to discuss it or defend it, I have been more free to delve into what the author is saying, and to explore my own beliefs and principles in the process, while also stepping back, listening to and hoping to mentor a new fourth-year group.  It is a book that rewards rereading, and I will look forward to future explorations.

I wrote about Oliver Loving here.  I loved the book, I still love the book.  I probably will never read it again, unlike the books by Louise Penny.  That probably says more about me than about the book.  Both Oliver Loving, and the novels by Louise Penny say a lot about the times in which we live, in completely different ways, and for all that I think Oliver Loving is beautifully written, its focus is far too narrowly inward for me to want to delve into it again.

Being Disciples is a set of six meditations or short essays.  It was interesting and yes, somewhat thought provoking.  The book was recommended reading for delegates to the  diocesan convention for the Episcopal Diocese of East Tennessee.  I have no other comments, I neither loved it nor disliked it, but I didn't mind reading it either; I did not find it to be one of William's most thought-provoking books.

The New Jim Crow was thought provoking however.  The book is several years old, and I mostly read it because several people have asked me if I had read it.  I'm not sure I'm happy about it.  In some sense, there was nothing new in the book, but that could be as much because the book is no longer new, and much of the information in the book has been available through other sources.  That said, the author does pull everything together in a coherent, and yes, enlightening way, and it has helped me in my own understanding of our blindnesses and the way culture slowly warps our minds to accept circumstances that we would otherwise reject.  It ties in with books I have mentioned previously, where it seems to me that we need to radically change our way of thinking about ourselves and others.  

And yet, I am not convinced I am the target audience for this book.  There are people whose passion is for social justice, and I support them wholeheartedly, and yet the older I get the more my focus seems drawn to a smaller. and smaller circle, not about me, but about individual relationships, small actions, the circle of the immediate.  Do I need to know about the greater world?  Of course.  Do I need to become an activist on a large scale? No. But I need to acknowledge, and accept the work of others, to help support an all-inclusive world.  The world needs all of us, the philosophers, the dreamers, the doers,  the marchers, the changers and the changed.  It is only in our conversation, our relationships, through listening to all the voices and learning to hear and move forward that change will actually occur, big and small alike.

A little late to this, but mostly late to my own realization that I need this list and the process of going through last years books, has been cathartic.  I did better than I thought I did, at least in mentioning reading, although there are books I wish I had said more about.  

But it also struck me that this was a useful memory exercise, and I recalled more about the books than I would have thought, at least as compared to a few years ago, when I felt unfocused.  Looking at the list and my blog posts, my notes and/or lack of them, helped me to focus on what I wanted to take from each book, and perhaps to see them from a different angle, the same way sometimes I marvel at things in my own neighborhood when Tikka and I walk but we go start off in the opposite direction from our normal route.  We see the same things, but they are also subtly different.

Roughly in order read: 

1. Mark McIntosh, Mysteries of Faith. 
2. Fredrik Backman, A Man Called Ove.   Ultimately forgettable but I wanted to read it before seeing the movie with a friend. The book, as usual, was better than the movie.
3. Cynthia Crysdale, Transformed Lives, Making Sense of Atonement Today
4. Paulette Jiles, News of the World.  This book was mentioned in the post, but not discussed.  A year later I realize that I remember more about this novel than about the Ferrante.  Although I discussed the Ferrante at the time, ultimately it has not stuck with me as much as News of the World.
5. Elena Ferrante, My Brilliant Friend. And again, here. 
6. Eimear McBride, The Lesser Bohemians.
7. Tana French, In the Woods.
8. Jan Werner Muller, What is Populism.
9. Ann Patchett, Commonwealth.
10. Brian Freemn, The Nightbird.
11. Aravind Adiga, Selection Day: A Novel.
12. Oliver Sacks, Grattitude.
13. Jess Walter, The Financial Lives of the Poets.
14. Ronald C. White, American Ulysses.
15. Michael Dirda, Browsings: A Year of Reading, Collecting, and Living with Books.
16. A. S. Byatt, Peacock and Vine.
17. Dodie Smith, I capture the Castle.
18. Paulette Jiles, The Color of Lightening
19. Amor Towles, The Rules of Civility.
20. Alan Roxburgh, Joining God, Remaking Church, Changing the World.  Actually, I mentioned this book but said nothing about it. The book was read for the Episcopal Diocese of East Tennessee's Diocesan Convention.  Interesting enough. Ultimately forgettable.
21. Emma Donoghue, The Wonder.
22. Nicole Mones, Lost in Translation.
23. Gary Taubes, The Case Against Sugar.
24. John Reed, Insurgent Mexico.
25. John Reed, Ten Days that Shook the World.
    
26. Eric Ripert, 32 Yolks.
27. Fredrick Backman, And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer
28. Paul Eckman, Why Kids Lie.
29. Walter Isaacson, Einstein, His Life and Universe,
30. Elizabeth Kostova, The Swan Thieves.
31. Rachel Cusk, Outline: A Novel.
32. Nujeen Mustafa, Nujeen, One Girl's Incredible Journey
33. Claire-Louise Bennett, Pond.
34. Adam Johnson, The Orphan Master's Son.
35. George R. R. Martin,  A Game of Thrones.
    
36. Stephen King, Mr. Mercedes.
37. Jimin Han, A Small Revolution.
38. Rachel Cusk, Transit: A Novel.
39. Ilia Delio, Care for Creation.
40. Stephen King, On Writing.
41. Tyler Cowan, The Complacent Class.
42. Betty Halbreich, I'll Drink to That.
43. Tyler Cowan, An Economist Gets Lunch.
44. Haruki Murakami, Men Without Women: Stories.
45. Susan Hermann Loomis, On Rue Tatin.
46. Domenico Starnone, Ties.
47. Michael Connelly, The Lincoln Lawyer.
48. Lior Lev Sercarz, The Spice Companion.
49. David Foster Wallace, Consider the Lobster and Other Essays
50. Julie Iromuanya, Mr. and Mrs. Doctor. and again, briefly, here.
51. Timothy Sedgwick, The Christian Moral Life.
52. Jennifer Howe Peace, My Neighbor's Faith.
53. Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken.
54. George Saunders, Lincoln in the Bardo.
55. Upton Sinclair, World's End.
56. Michael Connelly, The Reversal.  I am "reading" most of these Michael Connelly books through Audible, so I am listening to them. They have proven to be good novels to listen to on long car trips.  I recognize that I might not enjoy them as much in a different context.
57. Brenda Kinsel, Brenda Kinsel's Fashion Makeover.
58. Knut Hamsen, Pan.
59. Brenda Kinsel, Brenda's Wardrobe Companion.
60. Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow.
61. Tressie McMillan Cottom, Lower Ed.
62. Eula Biss, On Immunity: An Innoculation.
63. Robert Gieselmann, The Episcopal Call to Love.
64. Eula Biss, Notes from No Man's Land.
65. Yuval Noah Harari, Sapiens. 
66. Gunnar Staalesen, Where Roses Never Die.
67. Marcy Dermansky, The Red Car.
68. George R. R. Martin, A Clash of Kings  and more here.
69. Michael Connelly, The Late Show.
70. Elisabeth Luard, Squirrel Pie.
71. Owen David, Where the Water Goes: Life and Death Along the Colorado River.
72. Paul Beatty, The Sellout.
73. Cathy Barrow, Mrs. Wheelbarrow's Practical Pantry
74. Emily Fridlund, History of Wolves: A Novel.
75. Manjit Kumar, Quantum: Einstein, Bohr and the Great Debate About the Nature of Reality.
76. Fiona Mosley, Elmet.
77. Richard Adams, Watership Down.
78.  Christopher Hayes, Twilight of the Elites.
79. Karin Slaughter, The Good Daughter.
80. Danielle Steele, The Award.
81. Francine Prose, Reading Like a Writer.
82. Sebastian Barry, Days Without End.
83. Zadie Smith, Swing Time.
84. Ali Smith, Autumn.. More here.
85. Felicia Yap, Yesterday.
86. Alyson Walsh, Know Your Style.
87. Arundhati Roy, Ministry of Utmost Happiness. I simply stated that I did not like the book, which is true.  The writing is brilliant but I found it terribly difficult emotionally, worse because I found no enlightenment or redeeming sense of understanding in the book. I don't really regret reading it, but I won't read it again, and really can't recommend it.  Although beautiful, it could have been more effective and memorable if there were somehow more mercy.
88. Louise Penny, Glass Houses: A Novel.
89. J.D. Vance,  Hillbilly Elegy. This book is best at pointing out the incredible opportunistic and culture differences that divide the country, and not so good in politics or answers.  I read it again as part of a church related study, but I was disappointed that we did not delve deeper into the entire "us vs them" mentality that we displayed in class, and which Vance points out very clearly.  There is a lot of room for growth here, especially when combined with some other books about economic and cultural mores in today's American society.
90. Louise Penny, Still Life.
91. Debbie Macomber, If Not for You.
92. Dennis R. Maynard, When Sheep Attack.
93. Elizabeth Currid-Hackett, The Sum of Small Things. This really got under my skin, at least in forcing me to think about how much I am a  part fo my educational and economic cohort.  Disconcerting.  I'd like to read it again, along with Hillbilly Elegy, The Complacent Class, Twilight o the Elites and perhaps other book, as a part of a serious questioning of what we take for granted.
94. Elizabeth Peters, Night Train to Memphis.
95. Elizabeth Peters, Street of the Five Moons.
96. Louise Penny, A Fatal Grace.
97. Joshua Applestone, The Butcher's Guide to Well-Raised Meat.
98. Cormac McCarthy, Suttree.
99. Louise Penny, The Cruelest Month.
100. Louise Penny, A Rule Against Murder.
101. Louise Penny, The Brutal Telling.
102. Mohsin Hamid, Exit West.
103. Lee Child, Night School.
104. Maryn McKenna, Big Chicken.
105. Louise Penny, Bury Your Dead.
106. David Ford: Theology: A Very Short Introduction.
107. Paul Tillich, The Courage to Be.
108. Holly Fitzgerald, Ruthless River: Love and Survival by Raft on the Amazon's Relentless Madre de Dios.  Tragedy averted (barely).  Truthfully I look at this and wonder about how naive, or outright stupid, people can be.  But then, I shouldn't say anything because I've done lots of things in my life that would give people ammunition to say exactly the same things.  It is a powerful story of love and survival, despite all odds.
109. Rowan Williams, Being Christian. I felt this was a light fluff piece from someone who can be quite wise, theologically.  Hence I was somewhat disappointed.
110. Atul Gawande, Being Mortal.

So there you have it, the list.  I'm not sure what it says about me, but books, the books people keep, and the books people read, tend to say a lot about those people.  At the same time lists, like surfaces and first impressions are often misleading.  Make of it what you will.

I go back and forth about posting book lists and those of you who have been patient readers have suffered through my angst.  But I realized something the other day, and that was that my lists, when I post them, are useful, and this blog, if it is to be maintained must be, among other things, useful.  That is, in a way, the reason I started blogging, as a way to keep a searchable record of the scribblings that were on paper and in notebooks, bits of paper that would eventually be discarded because I am very bad at holding on to things. In those days I didn't know there was such as thing as a blogging community, hadn't yet discovered the joys of friendships formed through words in the ether, and although those discoveries are their own reward, the truth is that I still need that more practical aspect of an internet journal as well.  

It seems that the struggle then is not about the need for keeping a record, or posting such a record, but whether my random scribbles about the books I read are anything more than private scribbles.  In short it is a question of public vs private, and you dear readers get to suffer with me as I figure this out.  I know I'm not cut out for reviews, I don't really review books, and often my thoughts are a tangled path that only started with the book I read.  Nor am I particularly good at ratings or even "best" lists, even though I posted one in December.  What I do know, and apparently it is the only thing I know, is that I find the lists helpful, and I regret those times when my posts have not kept up with my readings.  And so I shall resume my bookish mutterings and flights of fancy. Sometime this month, the second month of the year, you will get an accounting of all the books I read last year, not because I have anything to prove but just because it helps me keep my own thoughts in order, and they are disordered enough as it is.

So what did I read in January?  January was a difficult month for me in many ways, and that may be reflected in my reading.

There were a couple of frivolous, light books, selected because I was either depressed or had a massive sinus headache and needed mindless escape.  Candace Bushnell's Killing Monica made my headache worse, and I probably wouldn't have finished it except that tossing it across the room took too much effort.   Laura Stampler's Little Black Dresses, Little White Lies was cute and charming, ultimately forgettable, but still a happy enough way to while away a few hours.  Lee Child's The Midnight Line was my New-Year's reading and I enjoyed it thoroughly.  After a few disappointing Reacher novels, this one reminded me of what I initially loved about the character, and I am more interested in Reacher's development, and often lack of it, than I am in the story itself. In fact the character is probably someone I wouldn't like, except that I tend to respect anyone who knows their own code and lives by it.  Lee Child's Jack Reacher lives by a code far stricter than most of us would tolerate, but it is his code and he sticks to it. 

Donn Morgan's Fighting with the Bible was an interlude book for the EFM course I am mentoring, and I enjoyed reading it very much.  There were places where I felt his analogies fell a little flat, but overall the book made me think and I always like books that make me think, irregardless of whether or not I agree with the author.  I wished perhaps I had read the book earlier, during my own first year of EFM, and I like the way he describes the Bible, especially the Hebrew Bible or Old Testament, as a guidebook for how to live with disagreement and conflict.  If you live in a Western Culture, the Bible, in some sense or another has affected your history, your thought, and everything we understand about modern culture, whether you agree with it or not.  And we certainly have not used the Bible as a way to resolve conflict — more often we use it to create conflict — but that perhaps that says more about us than either the document itself, or the intentions of its authors, whose actual intentions we will never know.  I like the play on words, observed by another member of the group, not me, that we can fight with the Bible, ie. fight with the words trying to resolve some deeper conversation with humanity and human history, and we can also fight, using the Bible as a tool for conflict resolution.  We haven't done well with that so far.  But I'm a big one for hope.

Corinne Ware's Discover Your Spiritual Type was also read in my capacity as an EFM mentor, although it is not specifically a part of the program.  It was part of a display of related interesting books in a training I took, and it related to reading we were doing at the time.  I found it very enlightening, and again wished I had read it earlier, it would have helped me during a recent period of difficulty.  But then again, perhaps it wouldn't have and I am grasping at straws.  Still, it has caused me to make some internal connections, some that did not seem initially obvious.  And whether one is religious or not, I continue to believe that all humans are spiritual; this spirituality, this seeking for greater meaning and a way to perpetuate it, is a significant factor in our humanity. We can be spiritual in different ways, just as we come in so many other diverse variations.  Why can't we accept the common thread that ties us together and embrace the different expressions of that thread, be they physical, mental, emotional or spiritual?  But I digress.  The book does not ask that question.

Alan Bennett's Untold Stories is at times incredibly warm and human, especially in the initial section, where he describes his mother's mental illness, the dynamic between his parents, and the way that a young Bennett struggles through this period.  It is a great example of how an education can expand horizons and understanding but at the same time hamper empathy across what become major social and situational divides.  At other times the book was rather ho-hum and mundane, but I found it worth reading in snippets here and there.  It is not a good book to sit down and plow through cover-to-cover, but still I am happy to have requested it from the library, and happy to have returned it as well.

My favorite book of the month was Louise Penny's A Trick of the Light.  Yes I still love these Inspector Gamache novels.  I love the character development and the way the story revolves around feelings and motives and the utter humanity of all involved.  There has been a lot of humanity in the last few novels, this one included. Many of the central characters have been struggling, some more successfully than others, a few having worked their way to a new understanding, others still lost.  In some ways this book revolves around the struggles of the human condition, and pain, and whether we rise or succumb;  around the nature of revelation or understanding and false hope, or "a trick of the light".  It is also about he way we build walls and hold on to small things that we think are the keys to happiness and peace, only to learn that we have mistaken safety for captivity, and that what we were seeking all along depended on our ability to change and grow with the world around us.  Or perhaps this was just my thought based on my state of mind.  

I leave you with that question to ponder.  Do we see things that reflect our mood in the things we read out of serendipity, or divine intervention (I don't believe that), or do we find things around us that enlighten our state of mind simply because we are in that state of mind?  And does it matter?  Is it the road itself that matters, or the journey?

I read a lot in 2017, mostly before early November, after which life got complicated, I got adlepated, and I stopped reading. I'm reading again now, but I don't think my current reads will challenge this list.  Regardless of how much or how little I read, I'm not going to share the entire list with you anyway, merely my favorites.  Only two of these books were reviewed in any way on this blog, and there are links in their titles.  I am not offering reviews here, many are available, only a brief blurb, and,  because not all of those books were published this year, and a couple have even been reread (gasp!), this list can in no way be construed as a list of the "best" books of the year.

FICTION

I read a lot of fiction this year, and loved a lot of it as well.  But upon perusing the list, I see that only a few really stood out above the rest (in alphabetical order):

Autumn, by Ali Smith is a beautifully and playfully written novel set in a post-Brexit Britain. Smith manages to tell an uplifting story enmeshed in a setting that could be ponderous, but here balances beauty and humanity with the dangers of nationalism, populism, and easy answers.

Exit West, by Mohsin Hamid. This beautiful novel, is one of my favorites of the year.  In fact it is tied with The Sellout for second place even though it is radically different, beautifully written, eloquent in its kindness and its understanding of humanity and relationships and the idea that we are all immigrants through life.  

Lincoln in the Bardo, by George Saunders. My favorite novel of the year is far more than the sum of its parts, which seems to be a theme for me this year. Not easy going, but rewarding. Click through for my review..

The Sellout by Paul Beatty.  I can't say it was the easiest read as it challenged all of my cultural assumptions and yet it did so while simultaneously drawing me into the story.  Extremely satiric, at times difficult, as well as  hysterically funny, this book changed the way I see myself and the world in which I live. All that, and I would read it again.

Ties, by Domenico Starnone.  The novel is short, compelling, and something of an emotional rollercoaster.  Long before the end however you begin to see that things are not what we initially perceive them to be and that life itself is a complex web of ties, ties that both hold us together and pull us apart.

NON-FICTION

I read less non fiction than fiction but had trouble finding 5 favorites. Once again in alphabetical order.

American Ulysses by Ronald C. White. I've long been a fan of Grant, since I read his memoirs at least, memoirs that revealed him to be a thoughtful, often wise, and complex man.  I'm inclined to think he has unfairly been given short shrift, and although this book may be overly positive, I hope it gives more people a chance to reconsider.

Being Mortal by Atul Gawande. Everyone's favorite book in the previous couple of years, I came to this book a little late.  There is little I can say that hasn't already been said. Life, illnesses, medicine, and what truly matters.  If you haven't read it, you must.

Courage to Be by Paul Tillich. I loved Tillich when I was in college, studying philosophy of religion, and I suppose I still do.  It is admittedly dense stuff. As I've grown older I appreciate Kierkegaard more and think Tillich is heavy-handed in his analysis, but still profoundly wise.  This was either my fourth of fifth reading of this book, and I continue to changed by each engagement.

Gratitude, by Oliver Sacks.  Beautiful and beautifully human short essays by Sacks written during the time leading up to his death. Sacks' essays have much to teach us about gratitude and embracing life in all its aspects, even in approaching death.

On Immunity by Eula Biss.  The author takes the vaccination debate as a jumping off point for thoughtful and beautifully written essays about culture, parenthood, and what it means to be human.

For the most part, my October reading was mosty light and fun,..  

The Elizabeth Peters was read on the flight home from Scotland, and discarded.  The 2nd Louise Penny, A Fatal Grace, was read on the same flight and not discarded.  I've enjoyed reading the Gamache novels.  I find them charming and entertaining, and yet they always also trigger my reflective instincts; they form a nice balance between something I just simply enjoy for its own sake, like eating a really good meal, and yes the descriptions of food help, as do the personal relationships formed between Inspector Gamache and the Three Pines Community,  while at the same time satisfying some elemental craving for something more.

Cormac McCarthy's novel, Suttree, was the most difficult novel I read. It may, in fact, be too sophisticated for me.  The prose and the simultaneously wry and achingly sad portrayals of citizens on the margins of society were powerful and occasionally wrenchingly beautiful, but I struggled with the straightforward story line which was at times seemed lacking in narrative complexity, treading as it was some intellectual and moral space between autobiography and fiction.  Perhaps I just wanted more of a "read, read", more Gamache, a change of voice, but something I could still curl up and get lost in.  Suttree did not really offer that kind of enveloping narrative, but what it does offer is something that I believe reveals insight into McCarthy's later novels, and may in fact be the kind of novel that reveals itself slowly, opening new vistas with each reading.

The novel I enjoyed the most was Mohsin Hamid's Exit West; in fact I enjoyed it so much I read it twice. It is, in some ways, an odd little novel, told in a third person that puts the reader at some remove from the characters, and yet dealing simultaneously with struggles that are quite current and also quite personal.  At times, one perhaps wishes for a deeper emotional connection, and yet at the same time I think it is the absence of that connection that elevates the book into an almost allegorical state of reflection, a state that is enhanced in my opinion by Hamid's technique of using magical doors to replace the struggle of actual immigration.  He does this well, making the movement transitional in a way that reflects on more than just changes in physical space, mixing allegory with a story that is simply good, and engaging on its own merits.  Hamid challenges our preconceptions and reminds us that loss and change are part of the human condition, that we are all migrants, all find ourselves in places not of our choosing with no understanding of what will unfold.  Exactly through his prose, his scattered snapshots of a changing world superimposed on a story of a young couple as they move through massive change, the shared distance and tenderness he uses in his characterizations, Hamid is sharing with us the way “loss unites humanity, unites every human being, the temporary nature of our being-ness, and our shared sorrow, the heartache we each carry and yet too often refuse to acknowledge in one another.”  It is a book both melancholy and filled with hope.  

I reread Joshua Applestone's Butcher's Guide to Well Raised Meats when I returned from Scotland.  Applestone was once my local butcher, and I had originally read the book when it was published.  I reread it because I returned from Scotland wanting eggs with the deep orange yolks and firm thick whites like I had in Scotland, and which I still missed from my farmer in Hyde Park.  But while thinking about eggs, I also realized another farmer I had supported was closing and I needed to rethink and review my meat choices as well.  Thank goodness there are still farmers I love to support, but I need to also explore more options. I have not made much progress on that particular mission, and local farmer's markets will soon close for the season, but it is an ongoing process.    I'm currently in the middle of reading Big Chicken, on Lisa's recommendation, and that may add some refinements to my choices as well, but I haven't yet read enough of the book to access how it will affect my search. But of course I am biased anyway.  I want food that is humanely raised, and sustainable, and has good flavor, feeling it is better to pay more and eat less of something truly satisfying, a desire that also aligns well with my increasingly strong opinion that whenever we think we can get more for less we are bargaining with the devil.