I'm always looking for suggestions for a great read. But would I want you to take 20 hours out of your life for this book? I'll try to use that question as a filter when I write about books I've read recently.

2024

‘Solo Faces’ by James Salter
 
This book was recommended by a local writer/journalist who considered it the best novel about climbing he had ever read. He’s not a climber as far as I know. Nonetheless, I respect his opinion, so I got it from the library. It was written in 1979, but as it’s more about alpinism than rock-climbing, it hasn’t become dated. It’s not a simple read, yet it’s very well written. What struck me was the combination of desperation, elation, and ultimately desolation that the protagonist experiences. At times nail-biting, at times exhilarating, everything in the book is utterly believable, and ultimately sad.  

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‘The Power’ by Naomi Alderman
 
I’m glad I read this novel a second time. Only then did I realize how striking and provocative it is. During the first read, I was too hasty to find out how it ended and missed quite a lot. In anticipation of a book club discussion, I was more attentive. The bottom line is: what if women had more power than men? What would the world be like? The story raises so many contemporary issues: sex trafficking, drug addiction, herd behavior, conspiracy theories, politics, religion. Rapid transitions in power are unpredictable and dangerous. It’s an unsettling book, but a fascinating one.


‘This is Happiness’ by Niall Williams
 
This is a sweet, loving tale of a time and place in rural Ireland before the electricity came. Faha, a mythical, but oh so familiar and recognizable village in County Clare. Even now as I write this, my heart swells with the joy it brought me. There are moments of hilarity, poignancy, heartbreak, amusement, the awkwardness of adolescence, the intensity of a first kiss, going “to the pictures”, the smell of turf smoke. The imagery is sublime. I can see Ganga heading off to the bog, his hand reaching down to pat the dog’s head. The fondness of people for each other, the acceptance of idiosyncrasies and failures. For sure, there’s always another day. Until there isn’t.
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‘The Bird Hotel’ by Joyce Maynard
 
I enjoyed this book very much. It reminded me of places I have stayed in my travels around the world – those unexpected magical spots, the memory of which you cherish, yet question yourself as to whether that same memory is playing tricks. After all, many years have passed and memory is a labile phenomenon. The author avoided all the easy ‘happily-ever-after’ tropes and surprised me with some unpleasant events to shatter the perfection of the place. All were totally believable. Life happens. I still want to visit.
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‘Two Degrees’ by Willian Michael Ried
 
From the first page, this story grabs you and doesn’t let go. This is a classic hero’s journey. That said, the story is thought-provoking, with much information about climate change and the consequences of human intervention. The transformation of Daniel from a driven corporate lawyer to a revolutionary is well-written and thoroughly believable. This is a great read.
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‘So Shall You Reap’ by Donna Leon
 
It never ceases to amaze me how seductive Donna Leon’s Brunetti books are. I walk with the detective through the streets of Venice seeing what he sees. I join him at his house and smile affectionately at his wife and children. I taste his cafffe at the bar near the Questura, I smell the fish market and listen to the chatter of tourists. I eat lunch with him, marveling at what his wife prepares. His boss Patta, and the boss’s ever-resourceful assistant Signorina Elettra are a constant, each evoking delight. How does she do it? Her prose glides like the waters of the lagoon. Her writing is not complex, and the sentiments she touches on are those of every community. Nonetheless, you come away feeling you have gained something of value from the story, not just entertainment. And the ending is excellent.
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‘Old God’s Time’ by Sebastian Barry
 
Sometimes a book just leaves you speechless. You wonder at how anyone could write so lyrically, so subtly, so effortlessly, and at the same time so compellingly about such a devastating subject, the abuse of children by priests and nuns in Ireland. This book captured me immediately, drugged me with its prose, and left me gasping for air. It’s a tour de force.  
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2023

‘The Secret Hours’ by Mick Herron
 
There is an exquisite pleasure in having a Mick Herron book unread, especially at Christmas. And so it was that this year that I opened the first page, and barely stirred until the last satisfying line. Mick Herron makes me laugh aloud and smile wryly at the current state of the (British) nation. He also makes me work hard at trying to figure out what is actually going on behind the smoke and mirrors. And as always, he shows me the multifaceted sides of his characters. This book was particularly satisfying as it explained some of the back story to the Slow Horses, the characters that populate the Slough House series of books. A perfect ending to my reading year.

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‘Signal Fires’ by Dani Shapiro
 
This is the story of two families living across the street from each other in a quiet middle-class suburb of New York, and how their lives intersect over a period of fifty years. Initially I was distracted by the chronology. But gradually I found that it allowed me to take pause in the exquisite and poignant story, to look forward, then back, and ultimately be reassured that all would be well. It is a beautiful story.

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‘The Covenant of Water’ by Abraham Verghese
 
So many times while reading (and listening to) this book I was filled with an overwhelming sense of joy. At other times I had to brace myself for the inevitability of tragedies in three generations of lives. Nonetheless, when I came to the last page, the abiding sentiment was gratitude for such a wonderful story. The book is a triumph! I went to Kerala in 2000 and took immense pleasure in returning to so many familiar places throughout the story: Cochin and the Malabar hotel; the spice village in Thekkady; the beach at Varkala, then a slow train to Kottayam; Thrissur and the tiger reserve at Ooty; Kollam, Wayanad and the elephant sanctuary at Periyar; Munnar in the western ghats; a houseboat from Alleppy through the backwaters.
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‘The Motion Picture’ Teller by Colin Cotterill
 
I have read most of Colin Cotterill’s previous books and certainly miss Dr. Siri. Nonetheless, this is a fun read. If you are a movie buff, you’ll appreciate the references to some of the older greats. The characters are all wonderful creations, and if you had any doubts as to the author’s creativity, check out his website. It’s a hoot! As I read, I found myself smiling a lot and at times laughing out loud.


'Daughter of the Queen of Sheba' by Jacki Lyden
 
This memoir literally blew me away with its lyricism, its compassion, its utter whirlwind of emotion. When I finished it, I wasn’t sure if I envied the author or felt sad for what she had to endure during her life. The reader cannot but compare their own childhood and life experiences to those of Jacki Lyden and inevitably come up short. As mother-daughter relationships go, hers was beyond challenging, yet she takes on the challenge time and again. Would that we all could be so forgiving.  


'Tom Lake' by Ann Patchett
 
Would I have liked it less had I read it? I honestly cannot say. But Meryl Streep’s reading of the novel raised it to another level. I loved every moment. It’s a kind story, filled with characters that you can empathize with despite their quirks and foibles and shortcomings. You live the protagonist’s life and her memories, you ache for her children stuck in the Covid bubble, you love the quiet steadyness of her husband. You cannot but marvel at how the writer weaves threads of the story together into a glorious whole. I wanted to live in that cherry orchard, to stay in that place forever.


‘Little Fires Everywhere’ by Celest Ng
 
This is a thoroughly striking book. I had originally picked it up because I wanted to see how a well-established author dealt with mother-daughter relationships, a minefield that I am trying to negotiate in my latest novel. Her approach is superb, complex, nuanced and at the same time balanced. You come away from this story seeing where everyone is coming from, even if you want to shout at them “Don’t!” The intertwined lives and stories work brilliantly. There are no real villains, just human beings trying to do the best they can under the circumstances. The major fire seemed a little extreme, but it grabs your attention. It also allows Izzy to break free, forcing her mother to re-evaluate her own life. A tour-de-force.


‘Forbidden Journey’ by Ella Maillart and ‘News from Tartary’ by Peter Fleming
 
I read these two books side-by side. Two very different people on the same 3,500-mile odyssey from Peking to Kashmir in 1935. The two books are a remarkable read for so many reasons. First, the two individuals had little in common. Fleming was an upper-class Englishman reporting for The Times of London. Meillart was a Swiss national and a pure adventurer, nominally reporting for a Parisian journal. They were not lovers. At best they tolerated each other for the seven-month journey. But they needed eachother for their individual skills. With camels and horses, they traveled across endless miles of mostly uninhabited parts of central and western China — places that no foreigner had been allowed enter for several years. They went hungry, slept rough, risked their lives. They each kept diaries of the journey — how they saw each day, each encounter, each triumph and disaster. His style of writing is entertaining; he’s a journalist after all. Her style is very different (the book is a translation). She is observant of people and their day-to-day lives, but her writing style is straightforward with little embellishment. Going back and forth between the two books is fascinating; what he saw vs. what she noticed. There’s a wonderful quote in Ella Meillart’s book: “Happiness is the intoxication produced by the moment of poise between a satisfactory past and an immediate future rich with promise”. She is so right.   
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‘Hidden Mountains’ by Michael Wejchert
 
This is the story of a climb in a remote mountainous area of Alaska that went horribly wrong. It’s a riveting story because it is so humane. You feel you know these four young people, two couples, and your heart goes out to them for the struggles they endure before, during and after the event. As a rock-climber, I appreciated the author’s descriptions of the evolution of the sport. I was amongst the early enthusiasts in the late 1970s when few women climbed, and the author’s take on those days is so familiar. One of the fascinating aspects of this book is how thoroughly the author goes into the logistics of a mountain rescue. I also appreciated how he writes about traumatic brain and spinal cord injury and rehabilitation. Even if you know nothing about climbing, it’s a superb read.    

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​'Pastoral Song' by James Rebanks
 
I read this book while staying at a 300-year-old farm house in north Wales. Each evening I sat beside a wood-burning stove in the kitchen, two dogs at my feet, and relished the lifestyle, the sentiments, the struggle and the joys of restoring a farm to a more ecologically sensible rhythm in rural England. The book stayed with me as I drove along the Welsh-English border into Devon and Cornwall. It stayed with me on the return drive through the Cotswolds and the Peak District. It stayed with me when I returned to Wisconsin too. It’s such a beautiful book.


‘Righteous Prey’ by John Sandford and ‘A World of Curiosities’ by Louise Penny
 
It was interesting reading these two mysteries in sequence. They have so many similarities. Each is a long-running series. Each has a beloved Protagonist, partner, and familiar families and friends. Each is set in familiar surroundings, the mythical Three Pines in southern Quebec for Louise Penny and a wintry Minneapolis/St. Paul for John Sandford. Both authors are tremendously skilled and one embarks on their stories secure in the knowledge that the reader will get their money’s worth. We also feel secure that they will come out alive, although perhaps a little damaged—emotionally for Inspector Gamache and physically (this time) for Lucan Davenport.
 
The question that lingers for me is: why did I enjoy John Sandford’s book more than Louis Penny’s? I doubt it’s the setting, for I am as familiar with southern Quebec as I am of the Upper Midwest. I like the Protagonists in each of the stories and their attendant characters. Both stories moves along at a brisk pace. So that leaves plot…and perhaps the nature of the villain(s). This time Louise Penny took me too far from reality. There were holes in the plot that even I could see through. These stretched my credulity, even within the freedom of a novel. In contrast, John Sandford kept me believing (and often chuckling) right up to the end. Well, almost the end. I resented the final scenes and didn’t think they were necessary. The author allowed himself to preach. He is entitled to write anything he wants and I absolutely agree with his position. But to my mind it detracted from the book.


The Eyre Affair' by Jasper Fforde

This book was chosen by my Book Club for January. I had read the book shortly after it was published in 2001, thoroughly enjoyed it, and subsequently read several more in the series. It's a wonderful conceit: time traveling into books to prevent them being altered. While set in a contemporary England, there are deviations from the present. For example, Wales is an independent country, heavily guarded against incursions by the English! It's a witty book, and if you are lucky enough to have had a good grounding in English literature, you'll pat yourself on the back for 'getting it'. The pace is fast; it's a good page-turner. I had forgotten many details of the plot and enjoyed it just as much the second time through.

2022

‘Killers of a Certain’ Age by Deanna Raybourn
 
This is a perfect Christmas read! By that I mean you just give in and let yourself be taken on a roller coaster ride of pure fun. I suspect the author has much in common with her protagonists, four incredibly feisty 60-year-old women assassins (well, maybe not the last part). I laughed aloud at times, turned pages faster than I should have, and was intrigued by all the twists and turns on the way to a  thoroughly satisfying ending.
 

Lessons in Chemistry’ by Bonnie Garmus
 
This book deserves all the hype and accolades it has received. That’s not to say I appreciated every bit of it. Sometimes it was a little to preachy, with people and events used and abused to further the story. Nevertheless, it hit the mark in so many ways, exposing the sort of misogynistic shit that pervaded (and still pervades) scientific research… and life. What will I remember of the story in five years’ time? Probably the dog!
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‘The Sea of Tranquility’ by Hilary St. John Mandel
 
This book swept me away! It isn’t often that I begin a book and literally devour it in one sitting, reading late into the night. But that’s what I did. Then I went back and re-read it just to make sure I had got the story straight, for it is complex. There are so many disparate parts to this book, and yet she manages to pull them all together at the end and deliver, at least in my mind, a cohesive story and a satisfying ending.
 
One of the things I’ve noticed in my reading journey this past year is that there are many books that I simply don’t remember (see below). I recently picked up a murder mystery only to discover about three quarters of the way through that I had read it before. I might not remember every detail of ‘The Sea of Tranquility’, but I will definitely remember that I read and it gave me a tremendous amount of pleasure.


‘A Tale for the Time Being’ by Ruth Ozeki
 
It’s strange how books can drift from memory easily, yet when read again resonate massively. This book is a case in point. When it first came out, 2013, I must have read it, but by now I had forgotten. So when it was chosen for our book club, I got it out of the library and approached it with naive eyes. Within a few pages I was completely hooked, and had read almost a quarter of the book before finally switching off the light and going to sleep. It seemed so fresh. I loved the contrasting places (a small island off the west coast of Canada, and Japan), and ‘voices’ (a middle-aged second-generation Japanese-Canadian woman, and a Japanese teenager) that were presented in alternating chapters. I loved the variety of themes: Buddism, Zazen meditation, quantum theory, coincidence, life on an island off Vancouver, the fall-out from the 2011 tsunami, school bullying, a mention of the Driftless area in south western Wisconsin where I live, writer’s block, a prescient Raven...and much, much more. 
 
When I got to the part of the book where the life of a reluctant Japanese suicide pilot in World War II is described, I remembered. Yes, I had read the book before! How could I have forgotten all the other parts of the book and not this? All I can think is that none of them resonated at the time — just the graphic description of the myriad horrors in a war. Reading it this time round, each of those themes found a place in my brain with linkages to someone or something from now, this time being. I won't forget the book this time round.  
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‘The Premonition’ by Michael Lewis
 
This is a terrifying read. It shows how the United States of America utterly bungled the Covid pandemic response. Blame lies in so many places, but those that stand out are the medical industrial complex (for profit medicine: pharmaceutical companies, medical equipment and supply companies, etc.), the Federal Government’s lack of foresight and investment in public health, the CDC, face-saving politicians, and on and on. Yes, there are a few heroes. But the vast majority of people who could have and should have stepped up did not. It doesn’t bode well for the next pandemic. I found the narrative choppy and at times difficult to follow. But the numbers, the time frame and the scale are overwhelming. God help us.


When We Were Birds' by Ayanna Lloyd Banwo
 
I read a review of this book in The Guardian Weekly and was intrigued, so I got it out of the library. I loved the book. It was so refreshingly original. It’s difficult to describe — perhaps a cross between the magical realism of Gabriel Garcia Marques and the spell-binding whimsy of Neil Gaiman’s “The Graveyard Book”. It’s set in Trinidad/Tobago or some such Caribbean island, and is essentially a love story. It’s written in such a way that you can hear the lilt of the voices. This is not in any way a distraction and lends such authenticity to the story that you find yourself totally immersed, every one of your senses stirred. Wonderful for a first novel. I was enchanted.


‘Trees’ by Percival Everett
 
I listened to an interview with the Percival Everett by Elanor Wachtel on Canadian Broadcasting (CBC) called ‘Writers and Company’. Elanor has introduced me to so many wonderful writers, mainly by giving them the opportunity to talk about themselves and their work. I had never come across the author before which surprised me as he is from the USA, a Professor of English Literature at the University of Southern California, and has written over 30 books. At any rate, this one is a real treat despite its somber subject: lynching. There are many moments of burst-out-laughing, head-nodding affirmation, and jaw-dropping incredulity. And the ending is thoroughly satisfying – or at least I thought so!


​‘In Love’ by Amy Bloom
 
This is a remarkable book. The author’s husband developed Alzheimer’s and decided to end his life before he could no longer function normally. He gave her the task of finding out how to achieve this, and she researched all the options available in the USA. None. So they went to Switzerland and Dignitas. You are taken on this journey with them. The book is not sentimental, rather, it’s uplifting, funny, poignant. Above all, it is honest.


​‘Termination Shock’ by Neal Stephenson
 
What a brilliant, thrilling ride! It’s a big story that at times reminded me of colored balloons on long strings, drifting almost aimlessly upward. But the author is so surefooted that you have faith in his ability to pull them all in to a tight and thoroughly satisfying ending. Each of those balloons is a fascinating commentary on a range of subjects including: geopolitics, climate change, Native American history, the India/China border conflict, martial arts, falconry, drones, pig populations in West Texas, the Dutch water gates… and much more. What a great story.
 

‘Small Things Like These’ by Claire Keegan
 
Such a small, soft, beautiful story. It begins as almost nothing, nobody of importance, an invisible man. He’s a good man, though. That’s clear from the outset. And yet, he rises so far beyond the ordinary. It’s not that he’s heroic in the generic sense of the world. But his heroism is all the more wonderful because it’s almost mundane, and the price it exacts is huge. You understand how it is that he cannot help himself. It’s another nail in the coffin of the Church in Ireland. Beautifully rendered.
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'The Shadow of the wind' by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

How could I possibly have forgotten that I read this book? Recently a friend gave it to me and as I read the inside of the front cover, something felt familiar. I took it home and this morning began to read. Suddenly a raft of memories were stirred up... of names and events and tragedy, and quixotic intersections of a myriad of characters. I re-read the last few pages and remembered— remembered everything as if they were scenes in a movie. It's a totally absorbing book, overflowing with stories; too full in some ways, but oh so satisfying. It deserves to be mentioned here - well worth 20 hours of your time.


'Transient Desires' by Donna Leon

Opening a Donna Leon book is like sitting down for a drink and a chat with an old friend! Everything about the person is familiar and you have memories of your past to bind you together. Ditto for Donna Leon's Commissario Brunetti. The story itself is small, but the familiar surroundings, the idiosyncrasies and foibles of the minor characters — all rendered with a light touch — take you to Venice effortlessly and allow you to feel and smell and taste that remarkable city.

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'The Lincoln Highway' by Amor Towles

Like Val, I was disappointed by this book and in the end chose not to finish it. Talking with her about why, all I could come up with was that I couldn't identify with any of the characters. And it was slow., or maybe I'm just impatient. A friend of mine who grew up in South Dakota had a very different — and positive — opinion. 


'The Sentence' by Louise Erdrich

This was another book I expected to love, and was thrilled when it turned up on the "Just In" shelf at my local library. But it drifted too far from reality and was too disjointed to engage me. I would have preferred it as a series of short stories. that way they wouldn't have to be linked.


2021

Book Club Bounty!
 
‘A Swim in a Pond in the Rain’ by George Saunders
 
My first response on having this as our Book Club choice was one of tolerance. The author had failed to engage me with his prize-winning “Lincoln in the Bardo”, so I wasn’t looking forward to this chore. To my surprise, it was wonderful. Imagine getting a free course in the art/craft of the short story from one of the best contemporary short story writers in the country right now. This is a condensed version of the highly sought-after course that Saunders offers at Syracuse University where he uses stories by famous Russian writers to illustrate technique. You feel as if you are sitting in the small lecture room with half a dozen other students, while Saunders talks, then solicits your opinions which may well differ from his. Indeed, he encourages a vibrant discussion. While I didn’t always enjoy the story under scrutiny, I always learned something.
 
 
‘All Systems Red’ by Martha Wells
 
Once again, my Book Club members have introduced me to something new and completely absorbing. This is science fiction at is best, with every page gripping the reader. I could hardly put the book down. It reminded me a little of “The Martian” in that it is told in the voice of the protagonist who is surprisingly witty and droll (for a cyborg). It’s a very short book, really a novella. Such a fun read though, and with a perfect surprise for the ending. I look forward to our Book Club discussion later this month!
 
 
‘Hamnet’ by Maggie O’Farrell
 
Sometimes a book just drenches you with the beauty of its prose, the scenes it conjures that let you smell, taste, and feel the wonder of the world around you. It’s a heartbreaking story, but told in such a way that your heart, which was ready to burst, is resurrected at the end to experience pure joy. I wanted to drown in this book, never leaving it, comforted by its reassuring warmth. The writing is magnificent. This is my choice for Book Club in the new year because I want to shout about it from the rooftops and have everyone experience its beauty. Plus, I get to read it again in preparation, and that will be wonderful.


'The Madness of Crowds' by Louise Penny

I appreciate that each year Louise Penny gives me another stay at the perfect village of Three Pines with all of its familiar characters. Reliably, there is an intriguing plot, good food, and the reassuring feeling that none of your friends will die. This time the topic was very timely: euthanasia as a solution to the societal burden of a pandemic. For the most part I enjoyed the book, but the complexities of the investigation, the contradictions and red herrings, were hammered home too often, especially in the latter half of the book. With this irritation, I lost focus and found myself just wanting to get to the end and find out who did it, not really caring much besides. Pity.


'Between Two Kingdoms' by Suleika Jaouad
 
It isn’t often that I open a book and read it straight through to the end. It’s a shame, but I don’t remember who told me about this book. I doubt I would have picked it off a bookshelf, although the cover is appealing: an old yellow VW bus with a young woman and a small dog perched on the roof. It’s the thoughtfulness and frankness of this woman’s experience with cancer over almost four years that took my breath away. A journey as epic as that of Odysseus. Two things she wrote struck me forcefully. One was about appreciating the moment – as in going on a journey. The anticipation and planning phase, the actual journey, and later the memory of the experience — all very different and each to be savored in its own time. The other was at the end of the book when she wrote: “If I’m thinking about my illness – abstracted from its impact on the people around me — no, I would not reverse my diagnosis. I would not take back what I suffered to gain this.”


'The Delightful Life of a suicide Pilot' by Colin Cotterill

This book was publicised at the final Dr. Siri mystery. I will miss him dearly. What a wonderful protagonist to have created... and managed to keep alive and thoroughly engaging for twenty or more books. Spoiler alert: he's still alive as of the end of the series, which gives me hope that he might return in the future. The author could always have resurrected him I suppose, as he occupies a wonderful in-between existence, neither totally in this world or in another. This novel doesn't disappoint; I always learn something about the history of south east Asia in Colin Cotterill's novels. This time it was the Japanese invasion of Cambodia and Laos during the Second World War. 

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‘The Fat Years’ by Chan Koonchung
 
If you want to understand China I’d strongly recommend you read this book. I learned about it listening to a Podcast by Eleanor Wachtel (Writers and Company) when she interviewed the author in 2012, shortly after the book was published. To be honest, much of the first three quarters of the book was lost on me. Begin at page 225, The Chinese Leviathan, and read to the end. Amazing! I finally understand it… and it’s unstoppable. But at the same time, China is less of a threat than I imagined, at least to my way of life. However, it will definitely influence the world your children and grandchildren live in.  


‘Rough Magic’ by Lara Prior Palmer
 
I had no idea I was going to enjoy this book so much. After all, what do I have in common with a 19-year old English kid who, on the spur of the moment and apparently nothing else to do, decides to enter the Mongolian horse derby, billed as the toughest race on earth? I love seeing inside her dizzyingly distracted, probing mind. I love watching her evolve as the race progresses, including her conflicted feelings about the people she is competing against, where she fits in the world, her family relationships, her doubts… In so many ways she carries with her the indomitable fearlessness of youth, and at the same time you hear the voice of insecurity, of feeling incredibly lost physically and spiritually. Al this comes across in her rambling prose which, at times, rises to pure poetry. I smiled so many times at the aching honesty of her story. It was a treat. If you get a chance, find the You Tube video of this race, made for TV. It complements the story well. Also, I believe she has given a TED talk.
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‘The Skull Mantra’ by Eliot Pattison
 
Overall, I enjoyed this detective novel. I was introduced to a new protagonist, Inspector Shan, and a remarkable environment about which I knew nothing, Tibet under Chinese rule. The novel was written over twenty years ago, and of course, exactly the same policies are being used today to subjugate the Uyghurs in western China. On the one hand you see how deeply Tibetan Buddhism is woven into the culture of the people and how strong a hold it still has despite it being systematically suppressed. In contrast, you see the strength of Chinese expansionist fervor which, despite lacking the acknowledgement a formal religion, has many similarities. The plot is confusing at times and could have been told more efficiently, but the extra pages made for a more immersive experience in the history and culture of Tibet and of Buddhism.


'Homeland Elegies' by Ayad Akhtar
 
I’ve just comeback from a 9-day RV trip to Arkansas and southern Missouri where America’s grim underbelly is on full view. I wrote a blog about what I observed, finishing with the statement, “I am trying to understand America”. This book helped enormously, but left me even more convinced of the decline of this empire. One of the back-page comments says “Homeland Elegy is urgent, lacerating writing of the first order… A sensation of a book”. I agree completely. It rings home for several reasons. First, the author was born and grew up in Wisconsin and knows this political turncoat state well. Secondly, he’s the son of immigrants and carries with him many of their experiences trying to adjust to living in the USA. I heard the author interviewed by Elanor Wachtell on “Writers and Company” and immediately ordered the book from the library. As another back-page quote says, “I put down this novel trembling at the courage it took to write it.” I could not say it better. It has opened my eyes.

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‘Nomadland’ by Jessica Bruder
 
This is another book about surviving America, only this time without the perspective of being an immigrant. The people in this book are born and bred Americans who for the most part did everything right, yet still ended up falling through a non-existent public safety net. I read the book while driving through southern Missouri and northern Arkansas in an RV. Perhaps because of that, I was hyper-alert to any signs of the enforced “house-less” lifestyle. You don’t come across it in state parks; even the modest $20 a night is way too expensive for these nomads – casualties of the modern depression. I had watched the movie before reading the book and each brings its own discoveries. There are no nomads in Sweden, are there? In 1972 when I was hitch-hiking around, you could camp for free anywhere for one night. We camped by a lake one evening and were presented with four freshly caught trout by the landowner.


‘What Are You Going Through’ by Sigrid Nunez
 
I’m so glad a friend brought this author to my attention. I read her book, The Friend, and found myself greatly touched by it. She writes such that you feel you are in a room with her, alone, and she is looking directly at you while speaking. All of her attention is directed towards you…yet she is clearly telling you of her own experiences. Life, love, friendship, sickness, death. Ordinary events told with such empathy.


2020

‘Squeeze Me’ by Carl Hiaasen
 
Yesterday I was highjacked — totally taken over/in by this hilarious novel from Carl Hiaasen. I’ve always enjoyed his books as they allow me to laugh at the absurdities of Americans, primarily Floridians. But this one hits an obvious mark: the president. At times I laughed aloud, other times groaned. But, as always, he led me through a maze of absurdity, decency and hope. A problem he faces as an author is that the man is almost impossible to satirize; it’s literally impossible to go over the top. The book left me with some wonderful images, most of which bring a smile to my face. Surprisingly, the author managed to generate genuine sympathy for the president’s wife. I will look on her in a different light when this charade is finally over. Seventy million people may not read this book (or admit to it), but the other eighty million will thoroughly enjoy it.


‘The Ministry for the Future’ by Kim Stanley Robinson
 
This book continues to stay with me. Almost every day I’ll read something in the news that makes me think of the solutions proposed by the author — a well-known sci-fi writer — to get from ‘here’ to ‘there’, where ‘here’ is 2020 and ‘there’ is a world that doesn’t implode in sixty years due to climate change, capitalism, population and stupidity. Some of the ideas/proposals in the book are logical extensions of already existing technology. Others are a lot more radical and frightening. It’s a remarkable book, compulsory reading really. Recently a friend asked why I wanted to read it as I’ll be dead by then, leaving no offspring. The reason is that it shows me there’s a way out of the mess we are in.
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‘All the Devils are Here’ by Louise Penny
 
It seems that I write a review of a Louise Penny book every year around this time. they are my ‘go to’ pleasure, guaranteeing that wrongs will be righted and the world, or at least Three Pines, will resume its bucolic existence. This one is no different although it was refreshing to spend much of the book in Paris. It’s a page-turner, right up to the end. All the same, I came away disappointed at the final fifth of the novel. To get everything to work out as planned, the author contrived situations that crossed the credibility line for me. Everyone is back in Quebec and almost back to normal, which leaves endless opportunity for the next one. I wonder how Covid will change things – in reality and fiction?


‘Bangkok Tattoo’ by John Burdett
 
This was a delightful detective romp that left me laughing aloud at times, much to the surprise of my husband, for I read it during the run-up to the US Presidential election! When the gumshoe is a Buddhist brothel/bar owner and his mother the Madam, you are immediately in uncharted territory. The characters are a wonderful assortment, many of them prostitutes, male and female. Perhaps the ending was a little too contrived, but it didn’t matter. I loved being taken out of my US-centric world and forced to go along with the strangeness of an eastern-leaning morality.

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‘The Testaments’ by Margaret Atwood
 
I devoured this book. I’m not sure why exactly because looking back on it, it’s not her best by any means. It lacked the creativity of its predecessor, The Handmaid’s Tale, which I read so long ago. It definitely lacked the creativity of which she’s capable – ‘Oryx and Crake’ for example. With the images of TV serial relatively fresh in my mind (I could only watch the first couple of episodes as it became more and more gratuitously cruel with each week), I could picture this story easily – the colors, the shapes, the forms. Some things were made clear – for example the absence of books and the impact that had on young girls’ minds. Of course someone had to look out for the possibility of incest. But frenzied Handmaids tearing the dentist to pieces – I just don’t see that happening, let alone being shown on TV! I hadn’t realized how close the Aunts are to nuns I have known. And yet those nuns were not cruel although they might have been devious. In this book her nuns were more like the ones in Call the Midwife, another made for TV rendering of a good story. Overall I was left with a feeling of dissatisfaction at the end of the book. It tied up loose ends more or less, redeemed Aunt Lydia somewhat (although I would have liked to know her even better), and pointed to the end of Gilead. Still, it seemed a little too tidy, especially the sisters.
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'It Takes a Village Idiot' by Jim Mullen
 
If you have every lived in the country, this book will resonate. If you’ve lived in the country with a spouse who sees things differently to you, this book will make you howl with laughter. And if you’ve decided to buy a weekend fixer upper three hours drive from your city life… well, you will feel you right at home. Hilarious.
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'Between the World and Me' by Ta Nehisi Coates
 
This should be required reading for every non-black person living in the USA. Required. Will it change minds? Not enough. But it might give people a tiny glimpse of what it is like to be black in America - how it affects every aspect of your life, 24/7/365 and on and on. Things haven’t changed much in 300 years. That’s the shock of it. It could be so different, so much better. Fear and ignorance and greed are at the core of it… and I’m not talking about black people.

 
'Black Box Thinking' by Matthew Syed
 
This book is all about learning from mistakes, or failing to learn. The why’s and how’s. You come away newly convinced that it’s worthwhile to examine choices and consequences. You can almost understand cognitive dissonance (especially now in the midst of a pre-election frenzy in the USA), and the need for (and the futility of) blame. It’s meticulously researched and referenced and the examples from all over the corporate world are fascinating. I thought it would be dry, but it’s utterly compelling. I wish I had read it 40 years ago.


‘The Fifth Season’ by N. K. Jemisen  
 
Maybe it’s a reflection of pandemic times, but I’m finding books to be challenging. For example, I just finished reading “The Fifth Season”. I’m not particularly keen on SciFi, but a friend gave it such a strong recommendation that I took it up…  and was mesmerized. What an amazing feat – to conjure up another reality. About two thirds of the way through I wasn’t sure how the author was going to pull it all together. She did, but as I closed the book I felt depressed. It’s not as dystopian as some, but all of the issues that are challenging the world right now are in her world too, every one of the seven deadly sins and at least three of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse! I’m not ready to follow up with the next two books in her trilogy, at least not yet. So why did I rush into the next two books after ‘Dune’ and ‘Lord of the Rings’. Maybe it was because I saw hope. Maybe it was because I was younger.

 
‘The Hungry and the Fat’ by Timur Vermes
 
On the theme of dystopia (and migrations), this book is utterly fascinating. It’s a translation from German and certainly gives a different view of what Americans fear: mass migration from the south. The premise is simple enough. What if a horde of people began a march from central Africa towards Europe, a slow and inexorable progression fueled by their plight and the willingness of people along the way to ‘get them through our country’ making a profit out of the enterprise. It’s never cynical, often funny, thoroughly engrossing. And you hold your breath for the ending. This is where I think the author ran out of steam and left me disappointed. Still, it’s an interesting premise and a good read.

 
‘Masked Prey’ by John Sandford
 
There’s something satisfying about seeing ‘justice’ served on the deserving. That’s what John Sandford offers in this very up-to-date (politically-speaking) story. Lucas Davenport, his main character, doesn’t spend much time soul-searching. What does take time is sorting through the numerous bits of information that are doled out with perfect precision to the hungry reader. Right up to the end I didn’t know how the author was going to finish it off. Who set in motion the whole train of events came as a complete surprise. This was a perfect distraction and I raced to the end. Now I have to think about how the author so skillfully managed to manipulate me. Fun!


‘Sapiens’ by Yuval Noah Harari
 
I’ve been remiss in writing book reviews recently. Maybe it’s Covid. Maybe it’s that I published my own novel and have become more critical. Maybe it’s because I am writing short stories and have less of an attention span for reading a novel. Whatever the reason, this is a book that has truly made me sit up and think. The breath and scope are enormous, yet the author manages to deliver the history and science of the human species in bite-sized portions. He’s opinionated but never cynical. At times I laughed aloud. He gave me new ways of looking at things I thought I knew about and fully understood. Frankly, I couldn’t put it down.

2019

‘A Better Man’ by Louise Penny
 
My book club’s next reading project is to read Louise Penny’s first book, published in 2005 followed by her 2018 book and compare them. First and next-to-last (because the latest book wouldn’t be easily available in the library). I’m the host, so I get to pose the questions. With this in mind, I have just finished her latest book, so that premise may have biased my opinion.
 
I enjoyed the story. It’s a good tale. But it could have been told in a third less pages. Is this the fate of all successful writers: that their editors are not as draconian as they would be with a newer, less-popular author? About two-thirds of the way through I lost interest and just wanted to get it over with — find out who did it, and move on. The other thing in this novel that seemed new to me was that she was cruel to some of her well-known characters, cruel enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I found myself thinking that I might never read another of her books – a sense that I don’t need to expose myself to this.
 
What saved the book for me, and my respect for its author whom I admire greatly, was the interview with her at the end. She admitted to sometimes finding herself writing things that make her feel uncomfortable, but that she believes it is important that we expose ourselves to these ideas and situations. Only by doing so can we grow. I recognized then that she has made me fall in love with her characters – quite an achievement. And so, I will continue to follow them and their storied lives.
 
Later, when I talked with Val about the book, she admitted that she had only read one of Louise Penny’s novels – the first one. This seemed puzzling to me at first, especially as the author lives barely 30 miles from Val in the Eastern Townships of southern Quebec. But as Val explained: she doesn’t need to be taken by the hand and led into the charming Quebec village of Three Pines. She lives there.

December, 2019

I’ve been totally remiss about writing book reviews recently. I’m not sure why, but one reason is certainly that I’ve not felt ‘blown away’ by any book I’ve read in quite a while. One of the problems with writing is that you become far more critical of what you read. Instead of letting a story wash over me, I am inclined to dissect it, reduce it, and ultimately become disappointed.
 
Reading for my book club (comprised of writers) has exacerbated the situation because we roundly criticize authors as an exercise. Few survive the process unscathed.
 
With the end of the year approaching, there are two books that stick in my mind. Each I expect I will re-read. they are remarkable and memorable.

‘Silence in the Age of Noise’ by Erling Kagge
 
I wish I could remember who it was who suggested I read this book. I keep a list on file at my library website, and this was amongst the ten or so books that I hadn’t yet requested this year. It’s a relatively recent book, published in 2017 by Pantheon Books, NY. They are an imprint of Pengion Random House Publishers who tend to interesting, thoughtful writers.
 
I had never heard of Kagge before which seems almost impossible. I don’t think there is anyone else who has successfully gone to both Poles (the South Pole alone, pulling a sled for 50 days with everything needed on it) and also climbed Everest. He’s Norwegian and runs his own publishing company. This book is about finding silence within oneself, not needing to travel alone for 50 days in the Antarctic where there is no source of sound. It’s a series of 32 short essays. The overall impact is truly inspiring, but in an ordinary, manageable way. Kagge seems very Scandinavian, i.e., somewhat dour. I would adore to be at a dinner party with him, listening to his answers to peoples’ questions.
 
‘The Silk Roads’ by Peter Frankopan
 
This is the sort of book you buy and keep around forever just because you know you’ll want/need to dip into it again and again to clarify a point, remind yourself of some detail, get a different perspective on some piece of world history.
 
This is a book about world history written from a different perspective than all the others. It’s not American-centric or Eurocentric but rather, pan centric, reminding us that the east (Central Asia, China and India) have always been at the core of history. Nothing changes – not even in 4,000 years. It all comes down to trade.

'Elanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman

Initially I was hooked. Such an unlikely heroine. There were several laugh-out-loud moments, all the more amusing as I was on a flight from Colombia to Chile. But then my 'writing brain' clicked in and I began to see the 'arc' of the story instead of the story itself. I recognized all the strategies that are used to tell a story successfully, where it is necessary to create more conflict, heighten the tension, plunge the protagonist even deeper into misery before enabling them to rise from the depths to ultimate happiness, etc. The novel then seemed contrived and I couldn't find a way for it to redeem itself (unlike 'A Man Called Ove' for example).
 
‘The Rosie Project’ by Graeme Simsion
 
Once again, I don’t remember who recommended this book but it’s a hoot! I listened to it and initially was a little unengaged, especially by the reader’s accent. Byt gradually I forgot about that and allowed myself to just listen and enjoy. My ‘writer brain’ occasionally became peeved by the choreographed arc of the story, the necessary encounters, coincidences, mini dramas. But they mostly worked. Surprisingly, the book gave me a lot more sympathy for people who don’t fit in easily in a social setting. The ending was contrived, and I could see it coming for quite some time. Nonetheless, it was heart-warming and ultimately satisfying.
 
'The List' (Novella) and 'The Drop' (Novella) by Mick Herron
 
Although these two novellas are not part of the Slough House spy series, they interweave perfectly with that group of novels. They are short, barely 70 pages – each a wonderfully quick read. There’s no fluff, no wastage… nothing to detract from a wonderful, satisfying story. The tone is typically Mick Herron: cynical, witty, amusing, clever. He’s a LeCarré for the times without the ennui and depressing memories.
 
'The Underground Railroad' by Colin Whitehead
 
I had to read this book and braced myself. Strangely, it was never horrifying, although so many horrific things were mentioned. But there was no pornographic or gratuitous violence, just the almost casual mention of endless atrocities. The protagonist, Cora, is a fascinating character, and the journey she takes illustrative of how slavery permeated the country so completely. The hopelessness of it came across, but also the tiny pleasures, like a birthday feast or a ripe turnip grown on a patch of waste land no bigger than a tablecloth. As a foreigner in the United States, and having driven all over the country, I cannot see an end, ever, to the miseries of this historical burden.   
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'Good Omens' by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett
 
A delightful orgy of blasphemous hilarity, and the perfect antidote to the previous book that I read (Educated). There were times when I laughed out loud, and not just because I was on holidays. What prompted me to order a copy from the library? It’s almost 30 years old. Perhaps I read that it was going to be made into a TV series with some of my favorite actors and actresses. At any rate, I now have something else to look forward to. It’s a clever mash-up of two brilliant minds. They must have had a ball co-writing it. I had the same idea once, with Val, to write a chapter and send it to her to write the second one. But it didn’t work. We each had our own stories to tell and they had literally no point of overlap!
 
'Educated' by Tara Westover
 
Memory is fascinating. Stories that are told over and over, mulled over and over, suppressed and resurrected… over and over. Can they be believed? This book pushes you to consider this. And yet, even if the memories on which it is based and only partially true (I was going to write ‘real’, but that’s potentially fabrication too), they are still horrifying. I had expected ignorance and indifference. I hadn’t expected physical abuse. I had expected rejoicing in escape and success. I hadn’t expected so much self-doubt, paranoia… the inability to sever family ties. The book has helped me understand how/why people stay in sects, cults, tribes, ultimately families. The desire to belong is terrifyingly strong, even if it means giving up oneself.
 
'Kingdom of the Blind' by Louise Penny
 
This was a very satisfying Inspector Gamache story. All the usual cast of characters in three Pines were in attendance. The pacing and plot were excellent, and I was kept guessing right up to the end. I come away from her books feeling satisfied, not needing the next one, or even looking out for it. All the same, when it appears, as I’m sure it will, this time next year, I’ll be delighted.
 
'Normal People' by Sally Rooney
 
I read a lot about this book and its author in the Irish and English newspapers recently. After all, it was long listed for the Man Booker prize, and won several others. I requested it as one of my Kennys.ie bookclub choices. The story is so Irish, so familiar, even though it’s written in the present day at a Trinity College that bears little resemblance to the one I knew. But the same culchie insecurity is there that was part of 1967 Dublin, the same fragility, unknowns, misgivings, apprehensions. God, it’s hard to be young. It’s a sweet, gentle, sad, lovely story.
 
'Autonomous' by Annalee Newitz
 
This is such a fun, rollercoaster, clever book. Sci-fi, yes, but the ideas are really fascinating, humorous almost. The concepts, property rights, big pharma, abuses of power, AI, robotics, are all well thought out, and painfully familiar even though the book is set in the middle of the next century. If you’ve ever run a research lab, worked in one, or know anything about the list of topics above, this book will grab you. Right up to the end where it seemed to run out of steam. Even so, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

'Last Night at the Lobster' by Stewart O’Nan
 
I couldn’t remember why I picked this book up. But, just now I looked through Val’s “What I am reading” for 2017 on our website and found it listed there. It’s sweet, poignant and so very, very real. A tiny gem. You may never have eaten at a Red Lobster, but this tale represents every restaurant like this. The people who work there, and well as the ones who come to eat have real lives, just like you or me. If you would just take the time to find out a little more, try to understand what drives them, your day would be richer. 
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2018

'The Forgotten Waltz' by Anne Enright
 
A friend recommended this book to me recently. With all the credibility of a PhD in English Literature and a childhood in South Africa, I tend to listen to her suggestions, even if she lives in Florida. She said the book was by an Irish woman whom she genuinely envied for the writer's effortless turn of phrase. I had never heard of the author. Shame on me, for she won a Booker prize in 2007. I wanted to listen to the book and got it out of the local library (thank heavens for libraries!). I was mesmerized. It’s so Irish. God, did every young woman in Dublin in the early 2000’s have to endure a life like that? Half way through, I felt compelled to drive and drive – anywhere, just to listen to this voice telling this story. The reader, Heather O’Neill, is brilliant - the perfect voice of Dublin in 2007. Bracing myself for the inevitability of the saga, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. More than anything, I realize that I was lucky to have been born in Ireland in 1950 when things were still ordinary. I didn’t have to deal with all that shite. Anne Enright's language… her turn of phrase… is just so effortlessly brilliant.
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'Killing Commendatore' by Haruki Murakami
 
I really enjoyed this book, but would be hard pressed to explain why. There’s something about Murakami’s writing that draws me in. The pace is slow, but I felt continually curious to know where the story was going. Somewhere along the way, I realized that I was completely at ease with the unrealities that he introduced. They seemed totally plausible within the story.
 
'Paris Echo' by Sebastian Faulks
 
This is the first book I’ve read by this author who is quite well known, so I was curious. I found myself holding it at a distance, never fully drawn into the story. Perhaps it’s because I don’t know of anyone to compare with the two main characters: Hannah, the insecure American researcher, and Tariq, the beautiful Algerian teenager. As a result, they never came to life fully for me. Parts of the story were fascinating, but in other places I felt that the author was indulging himself at the expense of the story. Still, reading it made me think about war, occupation, and collaboration with the occupiers.
 
'Warlight' by Michael Ondaatje
 
This book took work, even as the author’s glorious language flowed over me like a warm rain. I wanted to know more, yet felt that I was being deliberately misdirected at every chapter. It’s impossible to know where the story is going for such a long time. It’s only at the very end that you stitch it all together, even then you don’t fully understand. But perhaps that’s the point. 1945 was an unsettled time in Britain and Europe, and it’s only now when that generation are almost all dead that these stories can be told.
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'Holy Orders' by Benjamin Black (John Banville)
 
This man’s writing is magnificent. He makes everything sparkle, be it rain or wind, the sound of gulls, the smell of damp clothes, how light shines on wet streets. The descriptions wash over you, leaving the softest of touches before you move on to the next beautiful and lyrical image. How does he do it? I read the first of this crime series when it was published in 2007 (Quirke the pathologist) and didn’t like it at the time. After all, it was set in 1950s Dublin, a thoroughly bleak place. It came as such a shock after John Banville’s other books, as if Seamus Heaney had decided to write a graphic novel. But coming back to him now (this is book #6 in the series), I can see his mastery. That’s what stays with me, the imagery, and not so much the sad story. 
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'Interface' by Neal Stephenson and J. Frederick George
 
You come away from this book gasping for breath and checking that it was really written in 1994. The author(s) is prescient. What a rush. What an enormously satisfying book! Who was the President of the USA when it was written? Clinton? Bush? I’d love to hear what Stephenson has to say about the one we have now. I’m not surprised that the book was originally published under a pseudonym. Even better, it was published on April Fools Day! It’ll wrap you up in its grip for all 600 pages, and at the end you’ll want to begin all over again.

'The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit' by Michael Finkel
 
This book stays with you. It makes you think about what really matters, how simplifying one’s life can be extraordinarily calming. Maybe it was just the day I read it (a short read), but I was furious at CenturyLink’s inability to provide high speed internet to my house. Five weeks, five hours on the phone, five different excuses, and in the end, they could not tell me what the problem was or how it might be solved, if ever. I was speechless. Reading this book made me realize how I have succumbed to the immediate, at your fingertips, endless stream of information and entertainment. NOW. I felt chastened, relieved, grounded, and appreciative of the life I have.
 
'Moon Tiger' by Penelope Lively
 
This book won the Booker Prize for Fiction in 1987. It was chosen recently as one of the five books short-listed for the Booker at Fifty celebration. I read it when it was first published and didn’t quite understand. I was 37. Re-reading it at 68 is very different. I get it. And it’s a beautiful read. Is it the best of the best? Who cares. It’s a quiet tale of passion and loss and memory.
 
'A Legacy of Spies' by John Le Carré
 
I was disappointed by this final tale of Smiley’s people. Maybe it’s because I no longer care about the characters. Maybe because I know/knew too much about them and their fates. But whatever the reason, I plodded through this book without much pleasure.
 
'The Bean Trees' by Barbara Kingsolver
 
This was the choice for my Book club and I’m delighted I had a chance to rediscover this unique and intriguing cast of characters. It was a surprise to recognize a theme that didn’t catch my attention the first time round in 1988 (undocumented immigrants from El Salvador and the concept of Sanctuary), front and center in America thirty years later. The road the Protagonist drove was familiar too as I had driven from Oklahoma City to the Arizona border earlier this year.
 
'Bird by Bird' by Anne Lamott
 
It’s a book about writing, about being a writer, its ups and downs, its frustrations and joys. The bottom line: just do it. She made me laugh lots of times, and that helps.

‘Rules of Civility’ by Amor Towles
 
Ahhh….another book by this author that, as soon as I finished, I wanted to begin again from the beginning and savor every morsel, instead of gorging myself as I did the first time round. It’s a magnificent read! 1938 in New York is not a period I had any curiosity about. But I became giddily familiar with the excitement of that year and that place, the hopes and aspirations, the gaiety and ennui, the tragedy and despair. Putting the book down at the final page, I felt completely satisfied. You cannot ask for more.

‘When Breath Becomes Air’ by Paul Kananithi
 
I read this book when it first appeared and was stunned by its beauty and candor. I read it again last week as an assignment for my book club, and it was no less absorbing. This time I slowed down and read carefully as he struggled to answer the question: what makes life meaningful enough to go on living? As a neurosurgical resident, he had to help patients and their families try to answer this. But later, as a patient, he had to struggle with it himself.  As a doctor he “I acted not as death’s enemy but as its ambassador.” As a patient he searched for “a vocabulary with which to make sense of death, to find a way to begin defining myself.”
 
I wonder if I would be so dedicated to finishing my novel, were I told I had a terminal disease. I think so, because after all, what do you do when you can no longer do what you aspire to, are trained to, and have planned to do for the previous twelve years? Write.
 
‘Longbourn’ by Jo Baker
 
A year ago, I listened to an interview with Jo Baker about writing this book (Elanor Wachtell at Writers and Company, Canadian Broadcasting Company). Although I was curious, it just never made it to the top of the list. On the eve of a 2-week solo road trip, I found the audiobook in the library and took it along. Initially the pace seemed incredibly slow. While her descriptions were vivid, and put me solidly in each place, I could almost count the dust motes in the air. So, I skipped ahead a few discs, hoping to get to some salient event. It was a mistake. In the end, I resigned myself to the pace, and gradually came to luxuriate in it. I wonder whether I’ll feel the same way about Pride and Prejudice when I reread it, for of course now I have to.  

‘Crimes of the Father’ by Thomas Keneally
 
I found that I couldn’t put this book down. It was a spontaneous pick from the shelf of new books at the library. I had read nothing about it, but a cursory glance at the blurb made me curious. When you have grown up as a Catholic girl in Ireland in the 50s and 60s, this story about abusive priests, and good priests and nuns too, resonates. He handled the challenging subject deftly, carefully, thoughtfully. It’s a wonderful and satisfying story.
 
‘Iron Lake’ by William Kent Krueger
 
This is the first of the Cork O’Connor mysteries, published in 1998. The setting, the north woods of Minnesota, is brilliantly depicted. You are immersed in wind, snow, Arctic cold. His characters are good too. The plot is well thought out and kept me guessing up to the last few pages. I’m becoming a fan.
 
‘Dying’ by Cory Taylor
 
This book was being passed between a couple of my neighbors at our regular coffee morning after yoga class. We had a good discussion about assisted suicide, and subsequently I asked to borrow the book. It’s divided into three parts. The first is a very frank description of the author’s approach to her impending death. She had melanoma and died shortly after the book was published. The second part is about her family, her background, growing up, finally becoming a published writer in Australia. The last part is about her parents’ unhappy marriage. I was enriched by the first part of the book, but not by the rest. Still, she was entitled to her last testament. 

‘Ordinary Grace’ by William Kent Krueger
 
What a lovely, lovely book. My neighbor Loren recommended it. He was accustomed to reading this author’s Cork O’Connor mystery series, set in northern Minnesota. This novel is a departure: a quiet, thoughtful story about a young boy’s coming of age in rural Minnesota. Written in the voice of the boy, now forty years later, it’s a story that lingers warmly in your consciousness. The story could be written about any small town in the Midwest. The sense of place, of familiarity is beautifully depicted. But overall it’s the honesty that strikes you. 

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​2017

There were many more good reads in 2017, but I got lazy and didn't write any reviews!

Meanwhile, I joined a local Book Club consisting of aspiring writers who read and discuss books from that particular perspective. Each person offers two books to the group and they vote as to their choice. We meet for a couple of hours each month and tease the apart over wine and appetizers. It's very enjoyable. So far, we have discussed 'The Thin Man' (1933) by Dashiel Hammett and 'The Year of Magical Thinking' (2005) by Joan Dideon. A second offering, not chosen by the group, was 'Bleaker House' (2017) by Nell Stevens, which I read because I was going to Bleeker Island, one of the Falkland Islands, where the novel was written. The novel would not be on my A list, but it was fascinating to see the island from this writer's perspective - very different from my own experience. She definitely isn't a biologist!

‘A Gentleman in Moscow’ by Amor Towles
 
Another brilliant recommendation from my South African friend. This story is delightful, charming, interesting, amusing, and utterly compelling. I found myself doling out chapters each evening as a bedtime treat. What I really wanted was to binge, in the daytime, stopping only for endless cups of tea. Any attempt to analyze the structure, plot, character development…all the components of deconstructing a novel were thrown out, and I read with pure pleasure. It’s a great story with fascinating characters, surprises, and an ending that I couldn’t predict, but that left me smiling warmly. Lucky the person who hasn’t read it yet.

'The Keeper of Lost Causes' by Jussi Adler-Olsen

Now here’s an interesting situation. I took this book out of the library on the recommendation of a friend. As I began to read it, it seemed very familiar. Had I seen the TV show? The movie? At any rate, I decided to go on this website and check to see if I had indeed read it. Yes, but as an audio book, in 2015 (see below). This says something about memory, although I’m not sure how to interpret it. I listen to a lot of audio books, but it seems they do not resonate, or stick, or stay with me the same way that paging through the physical object does. And yet, sometimes when I am driving along a particular piece of road, I remember a book I listened to at that spot. Well, I decided not to read it again. Life is too short.

'Earthly Remains' by Donna Leon
 
Returning to life with Comissario Brunetti is like settling into an old, familiar armchair. The author is so good at giving a sense of place. This time, however, and maybe it’s because I too am writing/revising a novel, I began to look at this book more critically. Don’t get me wrong; I loved it. But was I to take this one up as my first experience, would I enjoy it as much? I had never thought about a series of books: whether you absolutely have to read the first, or even read them in sequence. At any rate, this is as good as all of the ones that came before. I do have one criticism, however. I’m tired of not seeing the wicked being brought to justice.
 
‘Seveneves’ by Neal Stephenson
 
What an amazing read! I envy anyone who has the fortune to be just starting this novel. It’s a fascinating, roller-coaster ride into the future, starting now. It’s clever and thoughtful, funny at times, intriguing too. As a biologist, so much of it is plausible, and I’m sure that a physicist and/or astronomer would find the parts I didn’t understand equally plausible. Inevitably, you find yourself at times asking “how would I be in that situation?” The author must have had so much fun writing it, thinking through the ideas, getting them recorded before they evaporated. He has an amazing mind. 

‘The Little Red Chairs’ by Edna O’Brien
 
This is a book you cannot forget, typical for Edna O’Brien. I never forgot her first book, The Country Girls, banned in Ireland at the time I read it. Choosing to write that book was understandable. But why she chose to write this one puzzles me. The subject is initially subtle and seductive and almost familiar. Then you realize how devastating it has become. But you cannot stop – it’s that good, that well-written. There could have been little joy for her in sitting down each day with an empty page and populating it with this story, these characters stories. I admire her bravery.

‘Born to Run’ by Bruce Springsteen
 
I took this audiobook on a 3,000 mile journey from Wisconsin to the Gulf coast, through Arkansas, Missouri, Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Illinois, and back to Wisconsin again. It was a wonderful traveling companion. I had time to listen, to learn about a life dedicated to being a creative musician, troubadour, poet, producer, showman, band manager, businessman, icon, idol, son, lover, husband, father, patient, depressive. It’s an amazing story, told in an earnest and thoughtful way. I’ve never owned a record of his. Now when I hear them, I listen carefully to the words, as well as to the individual instruments in the band. Would I trade places for his life? No - it’s been too hard.
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‘The Trespasser’ by Tana French
 
Two people told me about this book. Neither is Irish, and indeed, one of them initially couldn’t understand what Shi’ites were doing in Dublin. In my best Dublin accent, I said that there were probably a lot of Bollocks and Fecks along with all those Shites. This is a perfect two-flight book; you don’t notice the people, the noise, the boredom. Mind you, the book could have been half as long and I’d have still got everything I wanted out of it. It’s grand to be reminded of familiar places around Dublin, but I’d hate to think that life is as she describes it in the city: misogyny, drugs and booze, corruption, poverty and homelessness, all on a gargantuan scale. Having said that, I’ll be looking forward to a sequel if there is one. 

‘Night School’ by Lee Child  
‘Escape Dance’ by John Sandford
 
It’s interesting to review these two books side by side. They were both available from the library with a short turnaround, so I devoured them in less than a week. If you are a regular reader of either author, they are totally satisfying: formulaic, semi-predictable, amusing at times, and each with a generous body count. The main difference lies in the chief character, Jack Reacher in the case of Lee Child and Virgil Flowers in the case of John Sandford. Virgil is an easy to like Minnesotan. Reacher is a cryptic, two-dimensional man. For me, living in Wisconsin, Virgil’s exploits seem more plausible than those of Reacher in Hamburg. Nonetheless, both books are perfect material to while away the Winter hours.  

‘The Baklava Murders’ by Jason Goodwin
 
If you have read his previous books set during the Ottoman perios, this mystery will make you happy. It’s not as good as the first in series that introduces Yashim, the eunuch detective. Still, the book draws you thoroughly into the intrigue, the scents and the sights of Istanbul in the 1830s. I’m not sure that it would work well as the first book to read from this author. Start at the beginning of the series, ‘the Janissary Tree’.

‘A Man Called Ove’ by Fredrik Backman
 
This was a delight, a total charmer! Despite having a good idea of where it was going, it was fun to ride along and suspend judgement. At times, I saw elements of people I know in the character. some laudable but others less so. I have to admit that I saw pieces of myself too in Ove. All in all, it brought a smile to my face and a lightness to my heart, especially as I read it during the period that the US Presidential inauguration was taking place.

2016

‘Solar Bones’ by Mike McCormack
 
Every so often you are stunned by a book. Here’s what I wrote to Des Kenny (Kennys.ie) who sent the book to me as part of my Book Club package last summer. “I hadn’t realized how powerful a book it is. I just finished it in an orgy of reading. Solar Bones is outstanding, mesmerizing, and unbelievably beautiful.” Since then I’ve been singing its praises to anyone and everyone who will listen. Forget worrying about the absence of full stops ('periods' in the USA). I listened to an interview with the author, and his response to why there were no full stops in the text was perfect: would a ghost worry about them? Just let the sentences flow over you, like poetry.
 
‘The Lonely Sea and the Sky’ by Dermot Bolger
 
I learned a lot from this book about Ireland in the Second World War: its tenuous neutrality and the hardships that people endured. Ireland was dependent on England for everything, but at the same time the Irish government refused to get dragged into the conflict. Ireland was a young country, and the Rising, the establishment of the Free State and the Civil War were still relatively fresh in people’s minds. All these factors played into the scenario in which the story takes place, and the author’s personal attachment to the story brought it to life. Still, it’s a book that you can read quickly, skim, and not lose too much by picking and choosing where to focus your attention. 

‘Home Before Night’ by Hugh Leonard
 
I must have read this book about 45 years ago. I’m sure I skimmed through it and laughed occasionally at the familiarity of it all. But I didn’t appreciate it. Reading it now after 40 years living in the USA has been such a heartbreaking joy. It’s familiar in the loveliest of ways: the words, the phrases, the blunt lyricism of it all, washing over me like sea spray on a damp day. Ireland changed so little from the 40’s (my parents’ time as students in Dublin) up to my own student years there in the 60’s. His experiences in Dublin in the 40’s and 50’s allowed me to smell it, feel it, hear it all over again.
 
??? by ???
 
Now here’s a fine kettle of fish! I was given a gift of a book recently, wrapped in paper, that I took on holidays with me. On the way home, I had a 6-hour lay-over at an airport, and took out the book. It was a good read. It lasted me through the wait, and the flight, and I finished it just as we were landing in Dublin. I left it on my seat as I was leaving the airplane, and a lady behind me asked was I finished with it, for if so, she would love to take it. She had heard about the book and was excited at the prospect of getting such a recently-released novel for free. I agreed readily, and we both left feeling good. However, for the life of me I cannot remember either the title or the author! I remember the story, or parts of it at least. It was absorbing, although somewhat contrived. I felt manipulated, but not enough to give up. Besides, what else was I going to do for the day? So, there you go. If and when I remember, I’ll fill in the details.
It's: 'Magpie Murders' by Anthony Horowitz
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‘Langrishe, Go Down’ by Aidan Higgins
 
A quarter way through the book I had to stop. I couldn’t face the sadness. The prose is beautiful and lyrical. I could see the countryside, the house, the rooms, even the faces of the people. I could smell the damp decay, porridge on the stove, stale tea. I felt guilty quitting. But I knew that were I to continue, it would feel as if I was banging my head against a hard rock, over and over again.
 
‘I Shot the Budda’ by Colin Cotterill
 
Dr. Siri and his entourage never fails to entertain. Having read all the other books in the series, I am immune to the absurdities of accompanying spirits, pithy comments from the morgue assistant, warm cynicism for the political shenanigans, and even a wagging appendage on one of the characters. His books leave me smiling and satisfied, and I look forward to the next adventure.
 
‘The Gene’ by Siddartha Mukargee
 
I listened to this as an audiobook. It’s long, overly long, especially if you know something of the history and evolution of genetics and molecular biology. Still, he uses wonderful similes and examples that bring the ideas, molecules and biological processes into focus for everyone, not just scientists. I came away with one image burned into my brain. All the instructions for making a person are in the single cell from which we start at conception. That’s truly amazing.

'Old Filth' by Jane Gardam
 
This is a fascinating description of an unusual character whose experiences in and around World War II (he is a Raj orphan) make for a wonderful read. You begin it with trust in the friend who recommended it and wonder at their choice. But soon you find yourself following every moment of this man’s life with a variety of emotions. The people he encounters are themselves equally complex. Just when you think you know how it will wrap up, you are surprised once again. It’s a great read.
 
'Almost There' by Nuala O’ Faoileain
 
I was listening to an interview with Nuala O’ Faoileain by Elanor Wachtell (Canadian Broadcasting, Writers and Company – a great podcast), and chuckling at her delightful honesty and irreverence. I had read “Are You Somebody” some years ago and liked it very much. I found a copy of “Almost There” on my shelves and was swept into it. Maybe you have to be an Irish woman to appreciate it, but judging by the responses she got worldwide from the first book, I don’t think so. One of the things that struck me forcefully was her description of her experiences living in Belfast and writing a column for the Irish times during the Troubles. It was an eye-opener. 
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‘A Great Reckoning’ by Louise Penny
 
It’s hard to explain, how seductive this series of mysteries are. I resist, yet find myself being drawn back so easily into the world of Three Pines, the mythical village in the Eastern Townships of southern Quebec. This time it was even more enjoyable, as Tim and I had driven all around the region last July, essentially ‘searching’ for the place. It’s not a single village, but an amalgam. Still, we happened on several charming villages with rivers running through them, lots of pine woods, a bear ambling down the middle of a gravel road, a village fete where kids were racing engineless mini-cars down the straw bale lined main road egged on by their parents, wonderful restaurants, and yes, a bookstore whose windows were plastered with Louise Penny advertisements and books. This is a thoroughly satisfying mystery.
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‘The Drowned Detective’ by Neil Jordan
 
This is one of the Book Club choices by Desi Kenny (kennys.ie). I am so pleased he selected it, for I really liked it and it is written beautifully. It’s a book to savor, and short chapters make it easy to take up and put down without losing the thread. The story is mesmerizing, haunting, intriguing. I was reminded of a movie I saw many years ago: Don’t Look Now, with Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland. The book will stay with me in the same way.
 
‘When Breath Becomes Air’ by Paul Kalanithi
 
This was a sad book. How could it not be: a terminal diagnosis in his mid-30’s, when poised to begin a professional career as a neurosurgeon. He knew exactly what was happening to him. I didn’t cry while I was reading his story. But I cried when reading the epilogue his wife wrote. His question: what makes life worth living, has remained with me. My answer changes often. But one of them is: to leave a legacy. What that legacy is also changes often.

‘Brother of the More Famous Jack’ by Barbara Trapido
 
This is the perfect summer read. In other words, it’s interesting, funny, a bit outrageous, and gossipy good. It’s set in Europe: England, Oxford, Italy, Ireland. It would be impossible to make a movie out of it (a bit too outrageous), but it’s got all the stuff that you’d enjoy in a movie. It’s well-written, intelligent, and you can identify with the heroine, and see many of your friends and enemies in the other characters. You come away envying no one, but happy for many.
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‘Lab Girl’ by Hope Jahren
 
I have a friend who recommends books to me. Almost everything she has suggested I have thoroughly enjoyed. She was right about ‘The Martian’ and ‘Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand’ and ‘The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry’ (reviewed below). So when she suggested this one, I agreed to give it a try.  If it is on your long list, move it up! It’s a delightful read. Having set up my own research lab in the 1980’s, and kept it operating for 30+ years, often with with very little funding, much of what she describes is familiar. Nonetheless, she expresses herself so perfectly that I could hear the voices of so many research scientists I have known. To her credit, there was never blame or acrimony, only an appreciation of the privilege of being able to spend one’s life doing science. I learned a lot too, and will never look at trees or plants or soil in the same way.
 
‘The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry’ by Rachel Joyce
 
You set off on this journey with Harold, from the south coast to the north of England, ever hopeful that he won’t get too hurt or abused. Along the way you smile, laugh, cry, and wonder how it will end. You meet some predictable people, both good and bad, and others that leave you gobsmacked. You despair for Harold at times, and for his left-at-home wife too. But you stick with him to the end. After all, Queenie is waiting. The ending is gentle.
 
‘Extreme Prey’ by John Sandford
 
This is one of the best of the Prey series. For a change we are in Iowa. But as he notes, there’s not a lot of difference between the Minnesotans, Wisconsinites and Iowans. It’s a familiar Midwestern landscape. This is perhaps the most contemporary of his books, especially in an election year. The ending is perfect, and I am eagerly waiting to see what Lucas Davenport does next year. What more can I say?

‘Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand’ by Helen Simonson
 
Thinking about this book will always bring a smile to my face. I laughed, cringed, was appalled, reassured, and altogether thoroughly enjoyed reading this take on English village life. It has everything you might expect from a story about the unlikely attraction between a retired Major, a widower, and the local Pakistani shopkeeper, also a widow. They and their neighbors, families and friends embody the best and the worst. It’s a delicious read.
 
‘Matterhorn’ by Karl Marlantis
 
This was a tough read. Actually, I listened to it. But even so, it was hard. I wanted to stop, to skip a CD, to find a happy place or time. In war there aren’t any, and especially in the Viet Nam war, in the jungle, in the midst of hell, there were none. A Marine friend of mine suggested that I read the book, that the ‘voice’ rang true, at least for him as a Marine. I don’t remember why we were talking about Viet Nam, but I took his advice. I’m glad I did, for this book depicts the abject futility, horror, savagery, misery and fear that filled the endless days and nights of a tour of duty, whether you were enlisted or conscripted. It’s even more chastening to read it on the 100th anniversary of the Battle of the Somme in World War One. Nothing was learned then, and nothing ever will be learned by war. The whole enterprise and the accompanying rhetoric of glory, honor and duty is fuelled by testosterone. 

‘Father and Son - Selected Poems’ by F.R. Higgins
 
I should have likes these poems, but couldn’t find my way in. Higgins was a contemporary of Yeats, and they enjoyed each other’s company. So I tried. Perhaps the poems failed because I compared them to Yeats. But another litmus test that I use is whether I can sight read a poem aloud. I enjoy reading poetry to the empty living room, following my own voice, thoughts, and eyes as they jump ahead to the next line. I want to make the performance fluid and perfect, just like at boarding school. These poems didn’t work.
 
‘Reamde’ by Neal Stephenson
 
Another joyous ride with this author! What a brilliant mind he has. I didn’t expect to be as entertained as I had with his previous book, Snowcrash (see below). Such fabulous conceit. As I don’t play the sort of computer game he described, and don’t have friends who do (I think), I was utterly fascinated by the breadth and allure it could potentially provide. I get it. His characters are great too, especially the women. I wanted the story to last, but couldn’t put the book down. Thank heavens there are a few titles more of his to read.
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‘The Waters of Eternal Youth’ by Donna Leon
 
Ahhh! Back in the comforting and capable hands of Commissario Brunetti and Signorina Elettra. Even after 25 of them, I still enjoy Donna Leon’s books. I get to mark her own passions and thoughts and worries and the issues that have changed over the 20+ years that I have been reading this series. This is a good one. As always, I learn something that I hadn’t expected.
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‘The Boys in the Boat’ by Daniel James Brown
 
I listened to this book and it evoked all the standard emotions: excitement, worry, sadness, curiosity, interest. But it also made me irritated at times because all I could see was a book destined to be made into a movie with the attendant $$$. The first CD was a good set-up: Joe and the details of his rough early life. But at the end of everything, Joe and the boys were going to be triumphant. The intervening 10 CDs weren’t all filler. But the book could have been a lot shorter. While it helped to ‘set the stage’, the back-and-forth between Seattle rain and sleet and snow-filled training days and the emergence of the Nazi party in Hitler’s Germany seemed contrived. Nonetheless, I learned a lot about rowing, rowing shells, the physiology of the sport, and Seattle and rural Washington state during the 20’s and 30’s and the Depression. 
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‘Bogmail’ by Patrick McGinley
 
I wasn’t sure about this book at first. But gradually I relaxed into it and became fully engaged. It’s measured, and keeps you wondering to end…when you have to laugh. Nonetheless, it’s a thoughtful book, and the characters in it have depth. He has a wonderful turn of phrase. At times I felt like reading aloud, just to hear the sentences roll off the tongue.

‘That Which Is Suddenly Precious' by Dermot Bolger
 
I’ve dipped in to this collection of poetry occasionally and found myself, my past. I dipped in again today, recently back from a funeral, and found solace. 

‘Beyond the Ghibli’ by Vicki Crowley
 
I’m sure I would enjoy spending an evening with the author in a pub, chatting about her extraordinary life. Unfortunately, her book wasn’t a substitute, even with a glass at hand. There were parts that resonated with me, including her description of life in an English boarding school – so similar to my own in Ireland. But much of the book consisted of stories about family and friends, a series of travel anecdotes and vignettes. I felt that I was sitting in a staid parlour, being walked through a photograph album filled with faces I had never met and never would meet, longing to be outside playing in the unfamiliar countryside of Malta or Ethiopia or Libya.

‘In the Empire of Genghis Khan’ by Stanley Stewart
 
This was a pure joy to read. He’s a witty writer, and every so often I would find myself laughing out loud at some pithy comment. He’s from Ireland, so maybe that’s why I liked his humor. Beyond that, though, he takes you on this journey in a way that allows you to enjoy it as much as he is. You see places through his eyes, and they are observant and generous eyes. I came away with a wonderful appreciation for Mongolia. I don’t particularly want to rush to get there. But if I could be plonked down in a few treasured spots, I’d be very happy.

‘The Girl in the Spider’s Web’ by David Lagercrantz
 
I loved it! This is a perfect binge read: alone for the day and evening, telephone ignored, computer shut, occasional cups of tea followed by a hand-to-mouth dinner of cheese, crackers and wine in front of a warm woodstove. Above all, nothing too complicated or demanding that it would disturb the flow. Is the book as good as the original Stieg Larsson novels? I honestly don’t care. I’m not that much of a purist. It was a rollicking good read. Are Salander and Blomkvist becoming Marvel comic-like characters? Again, it doesn’t matter. I enjoy them both, and look forward to the next installment. 
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‘Frontiers of Heaven’ by Stanley Stewart
 
I hadn’t thought that I would want to read a travel book about China. But good travel books transcend, and before you know it, you are completely immersed in smells, sounds, sights… everything. This is one of those books. Nor does it matter that it describes a journey taken across China several years ago. I loved it. In keeping with the spirit of the best coming at the end, he finished his journey in northern Pakistan on the KKH, the Karakoram Highway. I was there a few years before him, in 1986. He travelled inside the bus, and while my memories of Hunza are almost identical to his, I rode on the top of the bus! I was reminded of the Mir’s castle (he managed to get inside), and we both were fascinated by the annual polo tournament in Gilgit. I’m looking forward to reading his next book, ‘In the Empire of Genghis Khan’.
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‘The Wave’ by Susan Casey
 
Having recently returned from Maui where we had watched surfers on the north shore near Paia and Haiku, this book captured my attention. I didn’t expect to get hooked, but it happened very quickly. I listened to it as an audiobook, and the narrator was excellent. But the story is great too. It’s not just about people who surf big waves around the globe, although it certainly gives you a gut sense for the sport (the adrenaline of riding a huge wave successfully and the horrors of wiping out) as well as the lifestyle of professional surfers and photographers. But it also introduces you to other aspects of big waves: history, science, sociology, ecology, as well as shipwreck and salvage, the business of waves. All-in-all a fascinating read.
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‘1434’ by Gavin Menzies
 
I read Gavin Menzies book with interest. His argument was compelling, and I came away willing to accept that the Chinese influence extended globally as early as the 1400s. But I felt a little browbeaten by the style of his writing and at times it was off-putting. I’d be more skeptical if I hadn’t already read ‘The Man Who Loved China’ by Simon Winchester, about Joseph Needham who compiled the encyclopedic series ‘Science and Civilization in China’. Nonetheless, Menzies’ book allowed me to consider how things go back and forth over the centuries: China now, and once again, at the forefront of science and civilization. 
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‘Star of the Sea’ by Joseph O’Connor
 
Another of the Book Club choices from Kennys in Galway. It’s odd, but I almost took objection to the quote from the New York Times Book Review on the front cover calling it “A ripping yarn”. Yes it is, but at the same time it’s a harrowing tale of the effects of the Famine on so many people, and for so long. It’s one thing to read “The Great Hunger”, or to visit the famine museum at Strokestown. But it’s another thing to read this intimate and personal portrait of what the famine did to people, even as a novel. The characters are fascinating. They were interesting, complex, and at times surprising. The story is multi-layered, and you have to pay attention or you can get lost. Still, your mind never strays far from that ship. While I dreaded the ending, it was not what I expected. I needed the Epilogue. 

'Miss Emily' by Nuala O'Connor
 
Desi Kenny at Kennys Books sent this one to me in my Book Club box at Christmas. (Did he remember that I had spent a little over a year in Amherst? Probably it was just a coincidence). I really enjoyed it. Most of it I read in Tulum, Mexico - a bit daft for it to have to travel so far, and indeed, I left it there at the hotel for someone else to pick up and settle into at the beach. They'll wonder how it got there.
 
It was familiar and warm and lovely. The rape took me by surprise, and even more, that she was raped by an Irish fellow. the resolution was comforting. But actually, the whole book was comforting: smells of the kitchen and baking and familiar phrases from home. The animosity towards Irish in Massachusetts at that time (mid-1800s) took me aback. I too emigrated to Amherst from Dublin and I too returned after scarcely one year. But I had a wonderful experience and made lifelong friends. Unlike the heroine, I came back to the USA to stay forever.
 
'The Japanese Lover' by Isabel Allende
 
A beautiful book. I listened to this as an audio book, and was completely absorbed by it. So much so, that when I discovered it was due back to the library, I spent an afternoon listening in the house, just sitting quietly and enjoying the story. Books like this take time to digest fully. But it was a good meal: satisfying in every way. I found myself wanting to identify with Alma, even though we have absolutely nothing in common. But which her? The San Francisco sort-of Brahmin? I doubt that I could have kept such a devotion alive for so long.
 
'The Emperor of All Maladies' by Siddhartha Mukherjee
 
I heard a lot about this book when it came out five years ago, and all the reviews were positive. Val told me she had read it and thought it excellent. But I avoided reading it, afraid to be plunged into the unfamiliar world of cancer. I had my head in the sand. Now it is firmly out, and alert - to every new article in the popular as well as the scientific press, to every nuance. I learned a lot from reading the book. Perhaps the biggest lessons are: (1) Cancer is part of the process of aging. Cells get old; (2) Be alert to the end game for oncologists, surgeons, and other care givers. Their goals may not be identical to that of the patient or their family. Furthermore, they may not communicate well with each other; (3) Recognize that dealing with cancer is a full time job, all-consuming and exhausting. My take-home message to me: every day make sure to smile and rejoice, for today is wonderful!

'The Thing About December' by Donal Ryan
 
This is a heartbreaking read. From the moment you begin, you know that you are in for something beautiful, sad and true. What you don’t expect is how much of it is so familiar, so utterly Irish. But then you know where it’s going: downhill, with no brakes. It shows the worst of us, and sometimes too, the best of us. But it shows so much. We can be a small people. Maybe every three-generations-from-the-bog town is like this. I left, so I don’t know. About half way through the book, I thought I couldn’t go on. I wanted to scream or weep or tear the pages apart. I skipped to December, the last chapter. That gave me courage to go back to the Summer and Autumn. That’s when I realized fully how beautiful a book this is. 

‘The Nature of the Beast’ by Louise Penny
 
What a pleasure to return to Three Pines and enjoy the company of Inspector Gamache and the cast of characters in his community! It’s so reassuring, even if there’s a murder or two. The author does such a good job of depicting her characters that you would be reluctant to ever have them cast and filmed for movie screen or TV. As for the place, no location could do justice to the smells and tastes, sounds and feel of the village. This is one of her best Gamache mysteries, and I was on the edge of my seat right up to the end. My skepticism as to the plot was defused by the author’s note on the final page. Who knew?
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‘Dreaming Spies’ by Laurie King
 
It’s wonderful to dive into a book where you know you are going to love it. I’ve read all of the previous Laurie King ‘Mary Russell’ novels, and thoroughly enjoyed each of them. This is one of her best. You get a rollicking adventure, a sense of history, and an escape from whatever you need to escape from. Altogether a great read!

A few months after I wrote this review, I listened to the book. It was beautifully read, and I enjoyed it even more! Maybe it was because I wasn't rushing to the end and the denouement. Instead I had time to learn, to imagine, and to savor.
 
‘The Lady in the Van’ by Alan Bennet
 
This is mostly a great read. I thoroughly enjoyed Alan Bennets’s writing the actual story of his engagement with the lady in question, a true eccentric. I’ve not yet seen the Maggie Smith movie. Neither am I skilled at reading screen plays, so that part of the book was somewhat wasted on me. Still, I look forward to seeing the movie. But back to the actual 15-year relationship that Alan Bennet had with Miss Shepherd – bizarre, sad, amazing, quixotic. It’s wonderful to know that people like both of them exist.
 
‘The Sandcastle Girls’ by Chris Bohjalian
 
A tough book to read. I thought I knew a little about the Armenian massacre, but this book showed me that I knew next to nothing. Like all genocides, it’s brutal and unforgiving. It should be. Sadly, reading it in 2016, you see how the history repeats, a hundred years later!

​‘The Unfortunate Fursey’ by Mervyn Wall
 
I think you have to be Irish to enjoy this book, or maybe even from Scotland. But I doubt that it would appeal much beyond. It’s a funny, satirical, and sometimes scathing view of the church and politicians in Ireland in the middle of the last century. I thoroughly enjoyed it: something between Flann O’Brian’s ‘At Swim Two Birds’ and Spike Milligan’s ‘Puckoon’. The Devil is a wonderful character.
 
‘The Big Short’ by Michael Lewis
 
This is a must read. The only problem is that it is unbelievable, and yet completely true. It shocked me. I listened to it as an audio book and it was totally absorbing. All the while I tried to find a motive besides the obvious one of greed. I don’t recognize these men. Have I every met anyone like this? We have nothing in common, and try as I might, I couldn’t find any saving grace in their despicableness. Yet, the way they were depicted in the book, they were almost ordinary. Terrible how the worst of evils in the world are perpetrated by ordinary men. I tried to imagine women doing this. I couldn’t see it. Is that because they never got/get the opportunity? 
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‘Puckoon’ by Spike Milligan
 
I was prompted to read this book again because it featured in Desi Kenny’s ‘101 Irish Books You MUST Read’. Of course I had read it in college – we all did. We listened to the Goon Show too, and could recite whole scripts if called upon. ‘Caw’ said the crow. ‘Balls’ said Milligan was always worth reciting when nothing else came to mind. The book still generates a broad grin and an occasional belly laugh, coupled with a wry smile and a knowing snicker. It’s still a wonderful read, a MUST read.

‘Keats Lives’ by Moya Cannon
 
Moya Cannon, I like your poetry very much and I want the world to know it. This is my first book of the new year, and what a wonderful choice! In fairness, the choice was not mine. This came in the treasure trove from Desi Kenny of Kenny’s Books in Galway. I joined the quixotic Book Club in November, and the first delivery arrived just before Christmas. It was a wondrous present, filled with books I new nothing about, but promising a fabulous Winter of reading! 


 2015


‘The M Train’ by Patti Smith
 
This is a familiar name, but not a familiar persona. Her music never appealed to me. I knew nothing else about her except that she hung out with famous people. A 70’s Kardashian. But I was completely wrong. I opened up the book at my sister’s library while waiting for her, and didn’t want to put it down. I cannot say why exactly. Likewise I cannot say why I liked it so much. I suppose everyone who reads it (especially of my generation) will find something that appeals to a place inside them, a person they thought they were or yearned to be. I came away admiring her steadfast ability to be different. It’s a timeless read, the perfect companion for a long journey.  

 
‘Night Heron’ by Adam Brookes
 
I don’t remember where I read about this book. Perhaps in the Guardian Weekly book review. Yes, that must be it, for it is an English-centric spy story mostly taking place in China. It’s gripping, terrifying and cynical. Shades of LeCarre, but shifted into a modern cyber warfare world. It invites paranoia. It’s very good.


'Forty Words for Sorrow' by Giles Blunt
 
Val suggested this author as an alternative to Louise Penny whose books I’ve read avidly: a good Canadian mystery writer with a string of books in the series. This is a complex detective with an interesting assistant. It’s a taut and thrilling. But for me it was graphically brutal and disturbing.


‘Leaving Before the Rains Come’ by Alexandra Fuller
 
Maybe there was a little too much ‘naval gazing’ in this book. I loved the father, and would have enjoyed spending time with him. But I became angry with the irresponsibility of the author. Why could she not grow up? How could she neglect to take responsibility for her own life, let alone those around her? And Charlie - even at the end he was/is a cipher. There’s some lovely prose and wonderful imagery. But in the end there was just too much.


'My Brilliant Friend' by Elena Ferrante
 
The agonizing intensity of this description of a childhood friendship is compelling. However, at some point I just wanted it to end and for them to get on with their lives. But I didn’t grow up in such a microcosm. And I got to leave my own Valley of Squinting Windows when I finished college. This book could have been set in Ireland in the 50’s, or any country where a bright child could be plucked from their bovine destiny by a teacher, educated, and altered forever. I don’t know if I want to go further with these two women. Perhaps I will prefer them as adults.
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​'Snow Crash' by Neal Stephenson
 
When I think back to reading this book, I have two images: one of the female character riding her über skateboard at a ridiculous pace while strung behind a fast moving car that she has ‘pooned’. The other is of the male character, Hiro, wielding his Japanese sword in the Metaverse, that place where you go on your computer wearing goggles and earphones, where anything can (and does) happen. How could I have missed this rollercoaster ride when it first came out? Maybe it is just as well, because then I might not have taken the time to read a cyberpunk novel whereas now I have more time to indulge in this futuristic fantasy, already 20 years old. It’s remarkably plausible. And it’s totally entertaining, right to the end.


​'Six and a Half Deadly Sins' by Colin Cotterill
 
It’s good to be back with Siri again. These books always make me smile. They are whimsical, but carry thoughtful messages. And just when you think that the game is up, Cotteril produces another deviant idea that allows it to continue, hopefully for many more books. I read an article recently about travelling to Laos, and was almost persuaded. But I’m accustomed to this wonderful assortment of idiosyncratic people and would be disappointed by reality. The ending left me with hope that Dr. Siri lives on.


'Saturn Run' by John Sandford and Ctein
 
In the end I enjoyed this sci-fi romp. But I got frustrated several times at the level of detail. It got in the way, and I felt that a more rigorous editor would have reduced the book by 30% or more. Nonetheless, it was interesting and clever, especially in light of the competing needs and desires of the assembled teams on earth as well as on the spaceships. I’ve read most of John Sandford’s books, so I could recognize his dialogue (rather, that of Lucas Davenport and Virgil Flowers) coming out of the mouths of these new characters. The last third of the book holds all the action, and was worth hanging in there to enjoy.  

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'Latest Readings' by Clive James
 
I read this book in one sitting. It's short, yes, but that evening it struck a perfect chord, and I let it flow over me. I smiled often, recognizing authors, and books that I had read and enjoyed so much in the past. Some he praised, others he panned. But I didn't mind. There was this sense of age and impending death bringing a delightful freedom as well as a healthy perspective. Such an honest book. I live with a book buyer (I prefer the local library), and James' descriptions of the weekly visit to his favorite bookstalls, and wondering how he would get his treasures back to his house without being discovered made me smile with recognition.
 
 
'The Sense of an Ending' by Julian Barnes
 
I listened to this book as I drove from Madison to Ottawa to see my sister who was recovering from surgery. The trip was long, but easy and leisurely, so I had time to savor this wonderful book, beautifully read, I might add.  It was evocative, elegant, sad, thoughtful. And yes, I finally 'got it'. 


'The Nightingale' by Kristin Hannah

I read this book greedily and felt thoroughly transported to France in the Second World War. So, why did I come away from it feeling manipulated? Maybe it's because I could see the movie being cast before I was quarter way through the book. By the time I got to the last chapter with tears in my eyes, I could have written the screen play myself. I wonder was 'the movie' in the author's mind when she first came up with the outlines of her story, or did it emerge as she wrote, with input from friends, editors, publishers and whom ever else gets involved? I hate feeling manipulated like that. Still, it's an engrossing read, and makes you wonder how you would have behaved in similar circumstances.


'Deadline' and 'Gathering Prey' by John Sandford

His books are just so reliable. They are great fun to read - the perfect distraction at any time.  As soon as I put them down I can forget the plot completely. But I smile when I think of his characters. "That fucking Flowers" in the Virgil Flowers books - he's easy to picture hauling a boat in the Wisconsin and Minnesota northwoods, taking time out for muskie fishing, or chatting up every attractive woman he encounters. In the 'Prey' series, he has done a brilliant job of making the aloof, sartorial Lucas Davenport a likeable character. I've grown attached to his street-smart daughter, Letty, and his independent surgeon wife, Weather. He paints ordinary people well and gives them a voice and a place familiar to me living in Wisconsin. 


'The Secret Place' by Tana French

This is an addictive book. I was listening to an audio book version in the car and discovered that I would not be able to finish it before the return date. Someone else wanted it, so a renewal wasn't possible.  So I found myself listening in the house as I did routine chores, and parking the car by the garden to listen while I weeded. I was still going to miss the return deadline, so I learned how to download an MP3 version to my phone that I found through the local library's subscription to Overdrive. I suspect that having attended a Dublin boarding school 50 years ago spiked my interest in the book. But I was horrified at the bitchiness and clique-ishness of the contemporary Dublin boarders depicted in the book. At times I wanted to fast forward through their inanity and their nastiness. The parallel story in the book, of life as an ambitious working class Dublin detective trying to make his mark, was fascinating. I've read a couple of Tana French's earlier books. This is her best.


'The Martian' by Andy Weir

What a great, fun, funny read. I loved this book! It kept me on the edge of my seat, but in a good way. Everything about it was plausible: the NASA folks on earth, the politicians, the poor castaway himself, and the crew who left him behind. I admit that I 'skimmed' through a lot of the details. Still, thinking back on it brings a grin to my face, and I want to tell someone about it so that they too can have the same amount of pleasure I've just had. Growing potatoes will never be quite the same!


'China Witness' by Xinran

I hadn't thought much about how different a woman of my age and education might be who came from China. Growing up in Ireland, I never gave China a though except to imagine everyone, males and females alike, wearing those dull, buttoned-up uniforms. I hadn't tried to put myself of my family into their circumstances, from ~1950 to 1990. When I think of china, it's always of this remarkable behemoth that has thrust itself into the world consciousness. This book gave me a window into the intense poverty in much of the country during those years, and indeed long before. It also opened my eyes to the incomprehensible commitment of people to what they saw as their duty. I came away feeling humbled, and also thinking: we are so different. How can we every understand one another.


'The Bone Clocks' by David Mitchell

I feel wrung out! This book has taken me all over the place, and I wasn't always happy about going along. But I'm so glad I stayed with it, for the ending is wonderful - especially if you come from Ireland and know West Cork. I lost my way in the middle though. There were just too many stories, all happening at the same time. Worse, I was listening to an audio book so I couldn't flip back and forth to get my bearings. I felt that the author had many, many stories in his head that he felt compelled to assemble into a cohesive package. Looking back, it was cleverly done. But it's a huge, complex weave. Still, it left me with a lot to consider, especially the dystopian future he described.


'The Narrow Road to the Deep North' by Richard Flanagan

Looking back on this book after a gap of several weeks I find that what I remember mostly vividly are the descriptions of life and death for the prisoners working on the railroad in Burma. I think about the mindset of the Japanese overseers, and how they felt compelled to behave as they did. But the main Australian character, Dorrigo, still escapes me. I never managed to get inside his head once the war was over.


'The Curiosity' by Stephen Kiernan

A friend sent me this book for Christmas. I was drawn into it quickly and enjoyed reading it very much. It's about reawakening someone who has been frozen in an Arctic iceberg for around 100 years. You are drawn into the story, which is told from the perspectives of the reanimated person, the scientific project leader, the chief scientist, and a reporter who has been given exclusive access to the story. It makes you think.


'Garnethill' by Denise Mina

Another friend loaned this book to me. He know that I enjoy crime novels, and coming from Ireland, he thought I might enjoy a foray into the rougher side of Glasgow, Scotland. What I liked most was the ordinary-ness of the characters. They didn't have much of anything at their disposal, just friends and family and tenacity.  The book also showed me a side of life that I haven't encountered before: psychiatric hospitals with patients who have been sexually abused. The book is not a downer by any means. 


'American Subversive' by David Goodwillie

I don't remember who recommended this book, but I'm very glad I took their advice. I really enjoyed it. The life of someone who has become involved with a treasonous act - the way they have to disappear and always be on the alert as a fugitive, is unfathomable. But reading this book I could imagine that life, and at the same time not be too quick to judge. I could almost understand.


'Station Eleven' by Hilary StJohn Mandel

The premise behind this story is that a global flu pandemic wipes out >95% of the population very rapidly. The dystopian environment left behind was wonderfully described, and the concept of a travelling band of actors and musicians showcasing Beethoven and Shakespeare somewhere in the midwest USA was a brilliant idea. But there was too much in the book: many, many characters, ideas, situations, not to mention tribes and religions, a past to analyze, a challenging present to negotiate and a future to hope for. I read it too quickly and regret that I didn't savor it slowly, allowing time to digest and appreciate it more fully.


'Americanah' by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichi

Val told me about this book. I read it over a period of months as opposed to cramming in into a few days. It didn't grip me with urgency, but the slow read has allowed me to savor it. I loved the ending, which filled me with joy and a sense of harmony. It was fascinating to compare immigrant experiences in the USA: black Nigerian female vs. white Irish female. The book opened up another world to me too: the new, oil-rich Nigeria, emerging from the third world.

'All The Light We Cannot See' by Anthony Doerr.

It's beautiful and wonderful. It's one of those books that in the first page you know you are hooked, just as surely as a fish. But you also know that you are going to enjoy being reeled in, slowly, slowly, ever so slowly. And if for some reason you never got to the end, it wouldn't matter. As soon as I had finished it, I wanted to begin all over again.
 

'Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage' by Haruki Murakami

I've read several of Murakamis books, and admire his ideas. His treatment of time as something fluid, not simply an inevitable yesterday-today-tomorrow sequence, is wonderful. That's how I felt about IQ84. So I was disappointed in this book. It's deliberate and thoughtful. But it left me feeling unsatisfied.

'Being Mortal' by Atul Gawande

Is it fair to make comments about a book I listened to, but didn't exactly "read". It was read by the author - does that make it any more "read"? At any rate, it's an excellent, thought-provoking book. It's not distressing, and I didn't find it depressing either. It's just life, and one of its bookends, which can be a large piece of furniture, not always well thought-out. The three most important questions I want my doctor to ask me close to that bookend are: Do you understand what is going on? What are you afraid of? What is the most important thing to you right now? And yes, I have a living will. It might be better as a tatoo, but its long and very detailed.

'Lila' by Marilynne Robinson and 'Nora Webster' by Colm Toibin

I read these two books back-to-back. As Val mentioned in her 'What I am Reading' section on this website, the two authors were interviewed together by CBC about these two books. I can see why they were juxtaposed by the interviewer, for there are similarities in the stories.  I read 'Lila' first and let it flow over me. I couldn't find an anchor, not even a time frame, so I just went with it. It was beautiful, and achingly tender. It doesn't have an ending per se. Rather, it pauses. In contrast, after reading the first few sentences of 'Nora Webster', I was at home. It felt so utterly familiar: small town Ireland in the mid-1960s. I could see it, feel it, and my mother would have experienced some of it, especially the 'squinting windows' parochial tightness. It's a small story, told with such care and gentleness. It too doesn't end, just goes on to who knows where.

'The Keeper of Lost Causes' by Jussi Adler-Olsen

I'm always on the lookout for a good mystery as an audio book. Not alone does the book have to be engrossing, but the reader has to be good too. This is even more important when the author is from a non-English speaking country, and the reader uses an accent. This book fulfills both. I found myself playing some of the CDs in the house as I did routine chores, and even worked in the garden with the car's sound system blaring so that I could finish the book before the return date! 

'The Most Beautiful Walk in the World' by John Baxter

This book made me laugh out loud...on the Eurostar, traveling from London to Paris.  What a delightful introduction to a different way to approach Paris. Instead of touring museums (and standing in line endlessly) I chose to walk, and walk and walk. It wasn't always easy, but it was constantly intriguing. It's the most amazing city for people-watching, and nobody seems to care that you are mesmerized by them. I loved it!  

'The Hundred Foot Journey' by Richard C. Morais

Of course I saw the movie first. It was such a perfect vehicle for Helen Mirren, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. This was an easy listen as an audio book. The French accents weren't great, but the Indian ones were brilliant, especially the voice of the father. Movie and book deviate somewhere in the middle, but it doesn't matter. Each has its own charms. I learned a lot about food preparation, and the incredible slog of working in, and running a restaurant in rural France and Paris. I found myself looking forward to my next drive, smiled at each new chapter, and never wanted to fast forward. When it ended I was sad. I'll miss the people as well as the imagery, the wonderful smells and tastes that it conjured.