This is the time of year when I start looking at various "Best of " lists and trying to read some of the titles I haven't read (or even heard of). My favorite list, mentioned numerous times before, is the LitHub list that identifies which books appeared in the most end-of-year best of lists (https://lithub.com/the-ultimate-best-books-of-2020-list/). I have started working on that list; that will continue for a couple months in 2021, and then I will give up and move on. At any rate, the results so far have been mixed.
Sorry this is such a long post--I read a lot this month and seem to have a lot to say. I am, once again, thinking about ending the blog or changing the format somehow. We will see in January.
Fiction
Transcendent Kingdom, by Yaa Gyasi (from the LitHub list). One of the things that I appreciated about this book is how different it is from Gyasi's previous (and very good but utterly depressing) book, Homegoing. Transcendent Kingdom's protagonist is Gifty, the daughter of a family of Ghanaian immigrants. The story is told in two tracks, with Gifty's childhood in Alabama up to her brother's death due to a heroin overdose providing one track and the other track focusing on her present life as a neuroscience graduate student at Stanford (with her mother suffering from depression and essentially living in Gifty's bedroom). Gifty's research focuses on work with mice that may reveal the secrets of depression and addiction; as she pursues science at the highest levels, she also reflects on her childhood in her mother's evangelical church. It's a fascinating weaving together of a range of themes. I thought it ended rather abruptly but still found it a rewarding read.
Followers, by Megan Angelo. Followers explores the implications of our current entertainment and social media culture, particularly "influencers" and reality television. Orla and Floss are a wannabe author and wannabe singer respectively. They launch a successful scheme to become influencers (Orla is the brains of the scheme and Floss the more public face), but their friendship endures some extreme difficulties and their popularity eventually fades. Then a technology apocalypse happens--I'm not sure what exactly the apocalypse was (I probably spaced out on the tech explanation) and, as a result, the government takes over management of the Internet. Thirty years later, a young woman named Marlow lives in a community in which the lives of the inhabitants are completely public (think Ed TV). She decides to break out of the community to find out more about a family secret. Darkly funny but also somewhat hopeful. I enjoyed it.
The Book of Two Ways, by Jody Picoult. This book about a woman who gave up a potential career in Egyptology to care for her dying mother, marry, and become a death doula--and comes to regret it-- differs from other Picoult books because there is no legal conflict! Parts of the books read like mini-lectures on a variety of topics, particularly related to Egyptology (think of Kathy Reichs teaching us about forensic anthropology in the guise of a mystery). Plus, the main character is not likeable, and Picoult packs in too many topics--fat shaming, physics, death, Egyptology. These factors make the book somewhat tedious, and not recommended.
Tokyo Ueno Station, by Yu Miri. This book won the 2020 National Book Award for translated works (translated by Morgan Giles). In it, the ghost of a Korean-Japanese laborer recounts the difficulties of his early life and his observations of life in the park near Tokyo's Ueno Station, where he lived in a homeless village for the last years of his life. The book has been lauded as an exploration of hidden Japanese lives and it is that, but as a novel it didn't engage me.
Enter the Aardvark, by Jessica Anthony. This book is a somewhat weird satire about a young Congressman who idolizes Ronald Reagan and has huge ambitions. Things start to go wrong when a stuffed aardvark is delivered to his apartment; the source of the aardvark is his gay lover, who seems to have sent it immediately before dying. From that point on, things go haywire rapidly. It's a funny book (especially if you like to make fun of conservative Republicans).
Friends and Strangers, by J. Courtney Sullivan. This novel, somewhat like Such a Fun Age, revolves around the relationship between a mother and the babysitter she hires to care for her son while she "writes." While Friends and Strangers does not have the racial element of Such a Fun Age, it does explore the ramifications of class differences. Both characters have a lot going on in their lives outside of their relationship. Notably for the mother, Elisabeth, are a wealthy father whose assistance she steadfastly refuse to accept though it could save her in-laws from losing their home and a husband who has moved them from Brooklyn to a small upstate college town so he can pursue his idea for a solar-powered grill (and who wants another child, which she does not). For Sam, the babysitter, there are her obnoxious and older British boyfriend and the people she has worked with in the college cafeteria, whom she wants to help through activism. The book was okay, but I would have liked it more if Elisabeth had been less obnoxious and Sam more level-headed (but it's a good reminder of the dumb decisions made at 20).
Just Like You, by Nick Hornby. Hornby is one of those authors who sometimes knocks it out of the park and sometimes leaves me feeling, as the saying goes, meh. Just Like You was definitely a meh. It's basically a romance novel about an older divorced mother and a younger black man. For me, it didn't provide any particular insight into race in the UK or single motherhood. I'll be waiting hopefully for the next Hornby work.
Luster, by Raven Leilani (from the LitHub list). It was weird to read this just after the Hornby book because it's about a love affair between a young African American woman and an older (married) white man. The twist in the story is that the woman Edie, whose life is in shambles after she has messed up repeatedly at work (if this weren't the case, it seems unlikely she would be in a relationship with Eric, who appears to have few, if any, redeeming qualities) ends up living with Eric's family, helping his adopted African American daughter Akila adjust to the family. The book is really well-written and includes some sharp commentary on race, class, and gender, but I just couldn't get past my dismay at Edie's self-destructiveness to enjoy it.
The Sweeney Sisters, by Lian Dolan. When the three Sweeney sisters arrive home for the funeral of their father, a larger-than-life novelist, they learn there is a fourth Sweeney sister, born from an affair their father had with the woman next door. The novel is the story of how they deal with this news, as well as the messiness of their own lives and the sibling conflicts and rivalries that have persisted for years. This isn't a great book but it was the right book for the moment, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.
Britt-Marie Was Here, by Fredrick Backman. Because I enjoyed Anxious People, I decided to try another Fredrick Backman. Britt-Marie was a rather up-tight busy body who appeared in my least favorite Backman (My Grandmother Told Me . . . ) but this is her redemption story, as she is forced to find work in a small town when her husband leaves her. Through her contacts with a bevy of quirky characters, including a youth soccer team for which she accidentally becomes a coach, she opens her heart--although she doesn't entirely give up her obsessive behaviors. Feeling fairly positive toward Backman after this one.
Mystery
The Blackhouse, by Peter May. My sister-in-law Kathy, who has a love for Scotland, recommended the series that launches with this title, not coincidentally set in the Scottish Hebrides. Our hero, Fin Macleod, has just lost his son to a car accident when he is sent to his home town on the island of Lewis to investigate a case similar to a recent one in Edinburgh. The victim on Lewis was a notorious bully with whom Fin had history in his school days. It's a very dark story, but complex and intriguing enough to justify moving to book 2 in the series.
Sometimes I Lie, by Alice Feeney. Amber is paralyzed and in a coma--but she can hear what is happening in her hospital room and she's afraid--of her sister, her husband, and an ex who has turned up as a doctor in the hospital. Alternating between accounts of what she hears in the hospital, a narrative of the events leading up to the accident in which she was injured, and excerpts from a childhood diary, the book weaves a twisty psychological tale in which you're unsure who the good guys are--if there are any. Entertaining.
Nonfiction
Where Law Ends: Inside the Mueller Investigation, by Andrew Weissmann. Weissman led one of the three investigative teams that working under Robert Mueller. In this book, he recounts how the work was done and the decisions that shaped the final product. The Mueller report is actually quite damning (I have read it), but Weissmann makes clear that it could have been so much stronger. Of course, AG Barr could still have lied about a stronger report, but perhaps some of the agony of the past year could have been avoided. Infuriating but recommended.
Supreme Inequality: The Supreme Court's 50-Year Battle for a More Unjust America, by Adam Cohen. While I think I am fairly well informed about the Supreme Court, I learned a lot from this analysis and was forced to think in a longer term way about the Court's role in injustice and inequity in the United States. The first takeaway was that the Court has had a conservative Chief Justice and a conservative majority since the Nixon administration; we may have thought of the Court as being somewhat evenly divided when O'Connor and then Kennedy were the swing votes--and certainly it is more conservative with Roberts now in that position--but it was actually always conservative. (And Richard Nixon and his Justice Dept. manipulated things to achieve the initial conservative majority, just as McConnell and likely Trump [I believe we will eventually learn more about how Kennedy was compelled to retire]). Further, that conservative majority has actively sought cases that allowed them to favor the rich, business, and by association Republicans while harming working class and poor people, people of color, immigrants, and basically anyone who is not a member of the economically elite. One of the most telling parts of the book compares the way in which the Court interpreted the Eighth Amendment when when punishment involved poor people and people of color (e.g., upholding three strikes laws for petty offenses) compared with corporations (e.g., striking down as unreasonable damage awards rendered by juries). But the trend extends to cases in many different areas of the law, including education, campaign finance, voting, workers' rights, and more. And, should someone be foolish enough to believe that only liberal judges are activists, they really need to read the analysis of the excessively broad decision in the infamous Citizens United case (along with the rest of the book).
Also Read
- Topics of Conversation, by Miranda Popkey. Similar to Rachel Cusk's work in its reliance on recounting stories from people talking to the main character rather than narrative development around the main character.
- Rebel Chef: In Search of What Matters, by Dominique Crenn. Some parts of this memoir are interesting, but overall it was disappointing because it didn't really inform the reader about how Crenn's food became so unique.
- Sex and Vanity, by Kevin Kwan. If his other books are anything like this one, I can't understand how Kwan has become so popular.
- I Found You, by Lisa Jewell. A single mom comes across a man sitting on the beach near her home and invites him to stay with her family. At that point very early in the book, I lost my ability to suspend disbelief, so the rest of this intricately structured mystery just didn't work for me, but I'm sure many people would like it.
- Killing Season, by Faye Kellerman. Once again, Kellerman goes into some detail describing teenage sex, which I find creepy in a mystery for adults.
- The Guest List, by Lisa Foley. A marriage is taking place on a remote island and it turns out multiple characters have reason to hate the groom. Hints of Murder on the Orient Express.
- Recipe for Persuasion, by Sonali Dev. Once again, Dev applies elements of a Jane Austen novel to romance among Indian Americans, with a foodie subtheme.
- The Silent Wife, Karen Slaughter. Typical Will Trent mystery.
- The Night Swim, by Megan Goldin. Another mystery using the true crime podcast as a trope.
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