9 great books
Dec. 23rd, 2018 01:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I mentioned in a different post that I've pretty much been reading all year. I have an hour commute to work each way, where I read, I usually read in other slots of time as well, and I read really fast so 150 books in a year wasn't a big stretch.I reread a lot, because I comfort-read certain books to exhaustion. Below is a list of nine great reads of 2018. Not the nine best, because I read technically better books that weren't included for one reason or another. So much closer to say that it's nine good books I recommend, than my ten favourites. I've tried not to include rereads at all so this is fresh and new, with one exception. I read plenty of non-fiction as well, so there's a couple sprinkled in. There's a surprising amount about religion in all different forms - nuns, cults, fundamentalism etc. Under a cut as this got long.
The Terror by Dan Simmons. This is my reread exception on this list, mostly because it's so topical. I was already a fan of Hyperion by the same author (there is absolutely nothing alike about them thematically, stylistically or even in terms of moral viewpoint on the world - Hyperion is much more hopeful and active against the nihilistic terror of the universe, while the Terror kind of lets you know in it's name that nothing is ever going to get better, so be warned). I reread The Terror because of hearing the TV show was coming out (also excellent and one of the only things I saw the whole way through this year - thanks to a ten episode span). It's a retelling of the John Franklin expedition which disappeared while searching for the Northwest Passage. At the time that it was written, even less was known of their fate leaving the field pretty open (the ship itself was actually found in 2016, book written 2007) for a supernatural horror conjecture as to the fate of those onboard. Pretty much all of the power of the story comes from the fact that SImmons is surprisingly good at following characterisation threads through the novel and developing the stories of those involved. It's pretty grim, and there's a lot of fairly graphic violence/gore which definitely isn't for everyone. However that said, it's a completely gripping read - all three times I've read it, it's been in almost one sitting.
The Terror by Dan Simmons. This is my reread exception on this list, mostly because it's so topical. I was already a fan of Hyperion by the same author (there is absolutely nothing alike about them thematically, stylistically or even in terms of moral viewpoint on the world - Hyperion is much more hopeful and active against the nihilistic terror of the universe, while the Terror kind of lets you know in it's name that nothing is ever going to get better, so be warned). I reread The Terror because of hearing the TV show was coming out (also excellent and one of the only things I saw the whole way through this year - thanks to a ten episode span). It's a retelling of the John Franklin expedition which disappeared while searching for the Northwest Passage. At the time that it was written, even less was known of their fate leaving the field pretty open (the ship itself was actually found in 2016, book written 2007) for a supernatural horror conjecture as to the fate of those onboard. Pretty much all of the power of the story comes from the fact that SImmons is surprisingly good at following characterisation threads through the novel and developing the stories of those involved. It's pretty grim, and there's a lot of fairly graphic violence/gore which definitely isn't for everyone. However that said, it's a completely gripping read - all three times I've read it, it's been in almost one sitting.
In This House of Brede by Rumer Godden. I've read a few of her other books, but this is so good that I'm ashamed and disappointed that I haven't read it before now. It follows the life of a group of cloistered nuns (although there's a "main" character in Philippa and she does have a personal journey within the book, it's much more about the community as a whole) and their interior struggles both internally and with other members of the community. It's unswervingly analytical in the way it looks at them - at the great as well as the petty, at the small crimes and failures, and the overall narrative of faith. It was a strange experience reading it, because obviously, on a personal level I can't agree with a lot of the conclusions (this is a very deeply religious novel and a lot of the content is about the focused power of prayer) but that doesn't matter at all. It's not really about what the reader is bringing to the book, it's an examination of what other people find worthwhile, the motivations and experiences of the women within the book who consciously chose a cloistered life. And it's kind of the premium example of what it is to write about women with no reference to men. There are men within the novel - both external to the abbey and priests allowed entrance within the abbey, and they are rich characters as well, but overwhelmingly, it's a novel of women.
The Fall - Simon Mawer. I dithered over whether to include this one on the list, because I don't know in conscience if I can recommend it on any given axis. Like, it probably will not satisfy most people who read it. I was obscurely angered by the film of uncomprehending sexism that infiltrated it unquestioningly. More than that, it's a pretty typical "literary" novel, complete with world weary aging narrator, long lingering flashbacks, musings on life/nature/everything, muted gay feelings, loud heterosexual feelings and badly written sex. With all that said, I really loved it. It hit personal notes that are important to me - the novel is saturated with climbing for starters, and that forms the backbone of what plot there is - whether the funeral the characters are gathering to attend for a climber was essentially suicide-by-climbing, taking on a face that you know you can't climb anymore but that has personal meaning. It's sense of place and time is impeccable, when I think about the novel I think of the wet, of the rain, clinging green leaves, hot tea in a thermos, frozen fingers - it's a very tactile experience. Also the relationship between Rob and Jamie was so key and I was very happy that the author didn't shy away from the fact that it was more than friendship, even if the narrator can't really admit that. So if your jam is not damp narratives of repressed gay desire do not read. If it is, enjoy.
Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith by Jon Krakauer. I'm a pretty big fan of Krakauer, his venom is generally my venom and I've probably read most of his books especially since I read a lot about dangerous exploits and also about Everest. This one again slipped through the net like In This House of Brede, and I came across it while reading books about cults earlier in the year. Specifically this is about Mormon fundamentalism which takes as it's core the story of the murder of Brenda Lafferty, and uses that event to spool through the history first of Mormonism, and then of the splinter sects that formed over the decades. It's absolutely unflinching and pretty terrifying as well to be honest, but Krakauer is such a good writer that he drags you through it fairly viscerally. He quite clearly doesn't subscribe to the belief that authors should remove their emotions from a narrative, because it felt deeply personal, like his own disgust of the horrors that got hidden under the defense of "God said this was right" really seeps through. It felt raw and angry, but he never loses the thread of his writing, and I thought it was genuinely excellent.
The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August - Claire North. Is that a genre novel I spy? This was a great read and an amazing concept - Harry August of the book title is one of the rare people within the novel who when they die, they wake up in exactly the same time and place - and live their lives out all over again. This premise gets the story off to a bang with the revelation - passed down through the years from one person to another, that the world is dying, that the voices are falling silent. It's a really really good clever take on multiple lives and how dangerous and strange they could be. The main drive of the book - the villain and the protagonist's complicated and difficult relationship was also the main draw to it.
The Unbreakable Miss Lovely: How the Church of Scientology tried to destroy Paulette Cooper - Tony Ortega. Not the best book on Scientology that I've ever read (that honour belongs to the classic Going Clear by Lawrence Wright that I read in 2017, so it didn't make the cut off to be included in 2018) and this one gets a place on the list, less for any amazing writing prowess or being a stand alone epic, and more for it's very personalised take on the havoc that can be wrought by a large and vicious organisation upon someone who stands up to them. The story is appalling, the bravery of Paulette Cooper was amazing, and I'd put it pretty much under the category of thriller despite obviously it actually being biographical. It's also pretty short and an excellent choice for a quick read. Though as I'm going through this list, I'm kind of embarrassed about how much I've read about cults this year!
Priestdaddy: A Memoir - Patricia Lockwood. OK, I'm now officially embarrassed by just how many books I've read this year have had religion as a turning pivot point. At least this one isn't about cults I guess? It's a memoir by the author of growing up with a Catholic priest for a dad. Yes - he converted post marriage/children and was allowed to be a priest in a move I find deeply mystifying from a church perspective. Mostly, it's about growing up in the shadow of someone you find terrifying and resent at the same time as you love them and admire them for sundry other reasons. It's funny and a little bit heartbreaking as well, and kind of amazing in how universal it felt, despite being such a far from universal story. I grew up with a really deeply weird family (not in a bad way) and even though her family was weird in different ways to mine, there was so much of the book that felt completely true to life - rich shades of embarassment and clannishness and rebellion all threaded together. That said, with all of the good points, it is a really obvious first book, and the ending is unsatisfying in exactly the same way that life is unsatisfying. I kept waiting and hoping that all of the growth the author had gone through, would allow her to confront some of the darker bits of her relationship with her father and exorcise them, and I think the book would have been more powerful if she'd waited to write it, until she'd got to that point in her own life.
The Little Friend - Donna Tartt. Oh look, a wild book appears without any religion! I'm torn on Donna Tartt. Thought The Secret History was OK, nothing particularly special. Didn't really enjoy The Goldfinch at all - all of the bad things about The Little Friend dialled up to 11 but with far less engaging characters/framework. Thought The Little Friend was outright riveting. It's a simple enough premise - a child growing up in the shadow of the death of their brother, and the unseen mystery of everything that happened on that day. What it's really about is edifices crumbling to dust, tangled personal relationships, the relationship of belief to truth and pretty much everything else except the kitchen sink. This is a gigantic pile of words, beautifully presented and rich in all the things I love - atmosphere, characters, long drawn out interminable thought monologues, completely soaked in history in which absolutely nothing ever happens. This is not a recommendation for anyone who really really needs a plot or who grows frustrated with endless pointless perambulations. This is a bit like Les Mis if you removed all of the plot that drives Les Mis and were left with only the digressions and diversions.
The Sisters Brothers - Patrick deWitt. This is a triumph of style over substance. It's so much good dirty fun - following two contract killers on a well-paid job (who happen to be brothers) and their frankly disgusting yet hilarious adventures which include such highlights as learning what toothpaste is, declining to kill someone, encountering a potential witch etc. It's a weird little book, and the writing is superb and felt original as hell, with the author keeping a firm grip on the craziness so at no point did it careen off the rails. The main character of the book Eli is surprisingly likeable for a killer, and while there was a character development at the end that I didn't like for one of the characters, I favour pretty much ignoring that and taking everything else. A really impressive book.