Saturday, December 12, 2020

November Reading -- and Book Chat to See the Year Out

 My November reading didn't begin as auspiciously as did recent months', but it was full of gems nonetheless. Here's the list: 

-- Terry Hayes' I Am Pilgrim (international political thriller)

-- Elif Batuman's The Idiot (literary fiction; coming-of-age)

-- Elizabeth Acevedo's The Poet X (literary fiction; novel in free verse; YA novel; coming-of-age)

-- Abi Daré's The Girl with the Louding Voice (literary fiction; coming-of-age; set in Nigeria)

-- Edna O'Brien's Girl (literary fiction; coming of age; set in Nigeria)

-- Thomas Perry's A Small Town (thriller)

-- Christobel Kent's A Murder in Tuscany (mystery; armchair travel)

-- Emma Donoghue's Akin (literary fiction; road trip/travel)

--Louise Erdrich's The Night Watchman (literary fiction; historical fiction; Native American/indigenous history).

-- Brian Selznick's The Invention of Hugo Cabret (children's literature; set in Paris; historical fiction;  picture book/graphic novel)

The first book I picked up in November got put down after 85 pages. Certainly gripping (and very graphic!) and promised to be entertaining, but I just realized I've no patience for books featuring Muslim terrorists and American undercover operatives.  I find it an over-used and corrosive narrative, and there are so many other books. . . 

So the first book I started and finished in November, #69 in my Reading Journal, was Elif Batuman's The Idiot.  The novel is narrated by the protagonist, a young Turkish-American women at Harvard in the '90s. Stylistically interesting, with many truly amusing observations about American academic culture from this young woman's somewhat detached perspective, but I was impatient and skimming by halfway.  




By contrast, Elizabeth Acevedo's The Poet X (my journal entry begins in the photo above, continues below) was a fast and entertaining read, but also thoughtful and nuanced. A YA novel in free verse might sound an unlikely proposition but the book has been very well received. Recommended.
(My Instagram post here.)


Next up, I read two novels about life for girls (become women, far too soon) in Nigeria. British-Nigerian Abi Daré's The Girl with the Louding Voice and Edna O'Brien's Girl.







I found O'Brien's by far the more harrowing of the two  (but an important, if imagined, testimony, and beautifully written, carefully researched) with its narrative of a schoolgirl kidnapped by Boko Haram, held by them for months, tortured, raped, forced into marriage. . . and then after she manages to escape, must confront her family, community, and nation's response to her as somehow contaminated by and even complicit with the rebel soldiers. . .  Daré's protagonist suffers forced marriage (legalized rape in an abusive household) and then extended servitude and more abuse after she escapes.  Both novels are well worth reading, despite the horrors they represent, not only to broaden our knowledge of Africa, to offer some solidarity to the victims in our witnessing of their stories. . . but also because both offer scenes of beauty and friendship, humanity and resilience, possibilities for resisting and persisting.

(My Instagram post about these two.)
#73 on my year's reading list was a palate cleanser after the two "witnessing" novels. Nothing like a spate of fictional thriller murders to lighten the spirit. . . . #kiddingnotkidding. . . Thomas Perry's A Small Town was fast-paced and the premise was intriguing.  And just when there was a chance it might become pedantically formulaic, he changed up the plot. . .  I love Perry's Jane Whitfield series, but A Small Town is a stand-alone title.


And for #74, combining armchair travel with mystery, Christobel Kent's A Fine and Private Place (also marketed as A Murder in Tuscany for those who don't like literary allusions in their murder mystery titles). Very satisfying, but do read A Time for Mourning first. 


More armchair travel as elderly retired chemistry professor takes temporary custody of a great-nephew he's only just learned of. . . in Emma Donoghue's Akin. We've seen and read versions of this basic plot, with too many playing to every cliché. Donoghue keeps it fresh and interesting. . . and the backdrop of Nice plus the investigation of a World War II family mystery help.  (Instagram post about #74 and #75 here.)





Louise Erdrich's The Night Watchman was the book that really shone for me this month, and it's probably in my top three for the year. Not only does it work to illuminate a deliberately obscured chapter in American nation-building, but it's full of wonderful characters and so many hopeful, affirming, human and humane stories.  If you'd like to know more about Native American or First Nations or indigenous culture and history, this novel is a wonderful opportunity. So good. My husband is currently reading it at my urging, and thoroughly enjoying it, as I did. . . Instagram post here.
I'll close November's Reading List with a book I read to my granddaughter (8) on FaceTime over the month. It's a beautiful story (made into the movie Hugo, which you may have seen). . . that folds into its narrative some of film's early history, thus inviting its young readers to imagine a time before they could see their Nana read to them from far away . . . 



Beautiful illustrations to pause and marvel at, as well. Would make a great gift for a young reader, and maybe they'd let you read it to them. . . 

And that's it! Only one month's reading left to post for 2020 and not much more than two weeks in which to do that reading. It's been a strange and challenging year in so many years, and I think we're all pinning big hopes on 2021. But how are you making the most of your last reading days of the year? I'd say most of us have more reading time than we generally do during this (normally) festive season. . . Have you found a few gems to get you through until New Year's Eve? Are you spending some of this end-of-year time thinking back on your favourite books of 2020? Have you some particular wishes for titles you'd like to find under the tree? Or recommendations for books to give (or get) as gifts? Please, have a seat in my Literary Salon and join the conversation in the comments below. I'll bring you a cup of tea or a mug of mulled wine, your choice, and we can chat books until the year is out! 
xo,
f