This year I read more than 300 books, which is definitely a record for me (at least since childhood). I would feel it was more of an achievement, if so many weren't mindless mysteries that I listened to while packing/unpacking, doing jigsaw puzzles, etc.
As usual at this time of year, I have started "working on" the list of books that appeared on the most "Best of 2021" lists that Lit Hub puts together (https://lithub.com/the-ultimate-best-books-of-2021-list/). I had read a measly seven prior to seeing the list, but the first book I got from it--Hummingbird Salamander, by Jeff VanderMeer--definitely made me question the worth of this endeavor and my reading skills. The book literally made no sense to me.
I noted recently that authors are starting to write about the pandemic. Some (e.g., Ann Patchett and Jodi Picoult) are also discussing how difficult it has been to write during the pandemic. I appreciate this, both as a freelance curriculum writer who right this minute is avoiding writing (although I can't really blame the pandemic, as avoidance has been a lifelong issue for me) and as a reader who has sometimes found it difficult during the pandemic to focus on print and/or more serious reading.
Anyway, since I've written about so few books this year--mostly my favorites--I'm not doing my own "best of" list--just commenting on the best (and most disappointing/annoying) books of the past couple months. Somewhat weirdly, I didn't have any real favorites the past few months in the two genres I read most--fiction and mystery.
Short Stories
Most of the stories in Today a Woman Went Mad in the Supermarket, by Hilma Wolitzer, were written in the 1960s and 1970s, but her examination of women's lives remains relevant. About half of the stories trace a couple named Paulie and Howard as they navigate their marriage from the unplanned pregnancy that prompted them to marry to the coronavirus pandemic. The title story depicts a pregnant mother who wants to help a mother with two small children who becomes paralyzed in the supermarket aisle; it is sad and timeless. Highly recommended.
Five Tuesdays in Winter, by Lily King, is a collection of ten stories, many of which are about adolescents with problematic parents. King gives them unique voices, puts many of them in sad situations, but also offers redemptive moments. King is such a talented writer who has become one of those authors whose books I really look forward to, and this collection did not disappoint.
Young Adult
The One and Only Bob, by Katherine Applegate, is an entertaining story, but I'm including it here primarily because the audio book was so awesomely narrated by Danny DeVito. The best narration of the year!
Nonfiction
Smile: The Story of a Face, by Sarah Ruhl. Just after giving birth to twins, Sarah Ruhl was struck by Bell's Palsy, which distorted her face and limited her ability to show emotions. Her decade-long fight to regain control of her face prompted reflections that lesser intellects/people would definitely not have had. Her book and Kate Bowler's lovely No Cure for Being Human (And Other Truths I Need to Hear) were life affirming--but also serve as a powerful indictment of many medical professionals. Some of their stories would be unbelievable, except that you know they happened. The fact that both women not only survived these experiences (and their illnesses) but somehow used them to help the rest of us understand illness and humanity is remarkable. And the amount of work the two of them have produced while battling illness is truly stunning.
The Writer's Library: The Authors You Love on the Books that Changed Their Lives, edited by Nancy Pearl and Jeff Schwager, includes interviews with 23 authors, from Louise Erdrich to Charles Johnson to Dave Eggers. The individual interviews in this book are moderately interesting, but I found the patterns across interviews fascinating. Many of the authors described themselves as indiscriminate readers as kids, which I loved (I am still something of an indiscriminate reader)--Nancy Drew and the "Little House" books were mentioned by several. Certain authors and books were repeatedly mentioned as influences--James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, Invisible Man, Phillip Roth, Maxine Hong Kingston. In terms of what the authors appreciate in someone else's writing--many mentioned writing at the "sentence level" (earlier this week I found myself commenting on a book's writing at the "sentence level," which freaked me out a bit). They also appreciate voice and character--but most don't care much at all about plot. It seems to me this puts them at odds with average readers, who in my experience care deeply about plot. Does this difference matter? I don't know, but it is food for thought.
Rosemary: The Hidden Kennedy Daughter, by Kate Clifford Larson, is not a book I would have read if my book group hadn't picked it, but it was quite thought-provoking. We had a great discussion of attitudes toward mental disabilities, ambition, family dysfunctions, and more. I don't think it's necessarily a great book, but it's great for book groups.
Annoyances, Disappointments, and Observations
In her two most recent books, Jodi Picoult has tried to break out of her previous pattern of family drama/legal battle--but I don't think her efforts have been entirely successful. Wish You Were Here is a pandemic novel; I was enjoying it until we got to the twist, which I found absolutely infuriating. Really, Jodi Picoult?
As someone who grew up within a few miles of the Lincoln Highway, I was looking forward to The Lincoln Highway, by Amor Towles. It did not live up to expectations; despite many twists, they all seemed unpredictable. This is actually the book I described as well-written at the sentence level, but overall it was disappointing.
After reading The President's Daughter, by Bill Clinton and James Patterson, I could not help thinking that Clinton, the draft evader (I don't blame him--I might have done the same had I been a man), secretly wishes he had been a Navy Seal. If you have read it, did you get that vibe?
Favorite Passages
My statuesque figure had given way to random bulges, as if my curves had been rearranged by an inept or sadistic sculptor.
--Hilma Wolitzer, Today a Woman Went Mad in the Supermarket
No matter how much time went by, I would fear your treachery had only moved into the shadows. What is love but rust, and how can I have that now?
A beautiful coherent speech lies somewhere for someone to make in a moment like this, a collection of words to balm exit wounds. But she can't make the speech, she can't find it anywhere inside herself.
--Carol Anshaw, Lucky at the Corner (good at the "sentence level"!)
In the waiting room of the NICU, Orthodox Jewish men prayed. I can still seem them now, in prayer shawls, davening. It was the only thing that made all the machines bearable, the human swaying to the internal sound of hope. I wished I could pray in a visible way. I wished I could pray.
Food is one part memory, one part ritual, and one part sustenance. . . . food is who makes it, and why.
--Sarah Ruhl, Smile: The Story of a Face
Everybody pretends that you only die once. But that's not true. You can die to a thousand possible futures in the course of a single, stupid life.
--Kate Bowler, No Cure for Being Human
