Tuesday, 12 December 2017

books of the year

Looking for something to read over the holidays? You've come to the right place - it's the book blog's annual 'books of the year' post.  We asked people to nominate the books they'd most enjoyed this year, fiction or non-fiction, or both, and here are the results: many thanks to all those who contributed, and happy reading!

Orlando Strachan's book of the year was Lolita: 'written by the Russo-American writer Vladimir Nabokov, most famous for his poetic-prose style and controversial writing, the book itself is not for the faint-hearted - it contains some deeply disturbing but equally utterly compelling stuff. The plot is fantastically twisted, especially towards the end and there is never a truly dull moment. Keep an eye out for butterflies…'


Mr Watkins selected Emperor of the Eight Islands by Lian Hearn: 'Hearn returns to the cruel and beautiful world of feudal Japan and her stunning Tales of the Otori pentalogy. Shikanoko is the gifted young warrior at the heart of a wild new tale that is drenched in twisted myth and magic – watch out for the demon-child whose teeth swarm like bees!  Not quite as good as the Otori for me, actually - a little bit too mythic at the expense of the personal… but madly exciting nevertheless. Parts of it felt… unimaginable, or certainly at least unimagined (by me).'


Rob Brewer recommended On the Road by Jack Kerouac: 'a sprawling and highly enjoyable semi - autobiographical novel, On the Road is about a writer who looks for escape, and finds it travelling across America, hitch-hiking and driving. Along the way the parties are huge, with the protagonists getting no sleep spending their nights in intense and sweaty jazz bars, and getting back in the car the next day. Apart from enjoying themselves, the characters experience a coming of age and live 'on the edge of the world', travelling ever forward, never stopping to miss life.'


Miss Douglas nominated A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman: 'a really enjoyable book that surprised me repeatedly. An interesting look into loneliness and what happens when you get old and stuck in your ways!'


For Ben Fobel, 'a strong Book of the Year contender is Fatherland by Robert Harris, a well-written and stimulating book for those who want a detailed insight into an alternative historical period, as well as an exciting crime thriller. Harris boldly fuses real events from the 60s with fiction in order to make an interesting and accurate representation of how life might have been if things had played out differently during the war, and his characterisation of Charlotte and March is both contrasting and endearing, as you soon grow very attached to the couple.'


Mr Gardner opted for The Italian Girl by Iris Murdoch: 'possibly the most depressing book I have ever read, a gloriously cynical (realistic?) depiction of family relations and affairs of the heart. Murdoch’s characters appear inhuman and egoistic, as her prose reveals motivations they would never admit to or acknowledge. The perfect misanthropic antidote to cloying Christmas cheer. Enjoy feeling morally superior whilst indignantly gawking at this bunch of repellent scoundrels. You’re nothing like them, after all…'


Theo Mahon enjoyed All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy, especially for the writer's 'descriptive imagery, which, combined with the actual plot, helped grip me to read past where I had previously decided to which definitely counts for something in itself.'


Mr Cairns offered an Australian selection for his books of the year, starting with Picnic at Hanging Rock (1967) by Joan Lindsay: 'I loved this for its mystery and sense of place: a very ‘English’ school with all the trappings but ‘down under’. (I am a great fan of comic genius Barry Humphries who grew up in nearby Melbourne, ‘Cheltenham in the jungle’ as Betjeman described it. His alter-ego, Sir Les Paterson, describes the book’s plot on the Parkinson Show but it’s a bit rude to print.)


'The picnic entails a day trip to Hanging Rock in the Mount Macedon area, Victoria, on St. Valentine's Day in 1900. They say the author was (well) advised by her publisher not to include the final chapter which explained what happened. But did she even write that chapter? Some suggest that graphologists should be allowed to inspect the manuscript. The book is so much the better for its published ending which leaves so many questions tantalisingly unanswered.


'Peter Carey’s True History of the Kelly Gang did far, far more than distract me on Qantas flight QF1 last Easter: the persona of the narrator, the very special language of Ned Kelly, and the humour – I’ve marvelled at everything I’ve read by Carey.


'And by a neat twist, The Magic Pudding - described by Philip Pullman as "the funniest children's book ever written" and as his favourite book - turned out to be by Norman Lindsay, brother-in-law of Joan, though I didn’t realise it at the time of reading.'


Dr Zetie found making this year's selection 'tricky – I’ll go for non-fiction this time: The Angry Chef by Anthony Warner, based on the blog of the same name. Beautifully dissects all the nonsense written about diets and food by celebrities and nutritionists but not without swearing an awful lot. Informative, entertaining and just occasionally, b****y angry.


Just for balance can I throw in A Mission of Gravity by Hal Clement. First published in 1954 this is classic and classical science fiction with aliens, rockets and slide rules on a planet with hundreds of times Earth’s gravity but spinning so fast it has a 10 minute day. Don’t underestimate the little guy!'


Karan Lalwani also opted for a classic: 'the best book I read this year was King Lear. The play presents the ongoing feud between the two main families in an interesting and entertaining way. Shakespeare’s blend of tragedy and comedy is so ahead of its time that the play is still extremely popular in the modern day, and his portrayal of complex, ambitious characters makes for a enticing and thrilling plot riddled with betrayal, love and violence. I would recommend the play to any fans of period dramas or political literature.'


Dan Staniforth would like to recommend Cyclogeography: Journeys of a London Bicycle Courier by Jon Day: 'it’s a smart, poetic and engaging look at the streets of London through the eyes of the cycling courier. Short and energetic, it mixes philosophy with cartography. Jon Day is now Professor of Literature at KCL, I believe.'


Mr Anthony's nomination is The Sparsholt Affair by Alan Hollinghurst: 'the eagerly awaited sixth novel from a writer who, according to the Guardian has 'a strong, perhaps unassailable claim to be the best English novelist working today.' The novel explores the sexual and social revolutions of the past fifty years through the prism of the lovers, friends and descendants of David Sparsholt, a handsome Oxford graduate, one time RAF fighter pilot and prominent businessman who, during the 1970s, becomes embroiled in a mysterious homosexual scandal. Spanning three generations, the novel explores the act of storytelling in itself and how we frame and manipulate interpretations of others in order to suit our own needs. Hollinghurst’s prose style has the solidity and mastery of Hardy or Dickens, but is permeated with a salacious and wry wit that marks the author out as the foremost chronicler of gay life in Britain in the years since decriminalisation.'


Mr Sanderson opted for All Out War byTim Shipman: 'a brilliant exposé of ridiculous party political machinations which delivered unto us… Brexit.'


Mr Kemp enthusiastically recommends The Baron in the Trees by Italo Calvino: 'it was just really, really great. I couldn’t stand The Castle of Crossed Destinies, and I thought Invisible Cities was really average. They just seemed so ‘meh’: no real point to them; tedious game playing; and very, very sub-Borghesy. This one was also Borghesy, but not sub-; in many ways it was a Borghes story turned into a novel. But in a really good way. The story, about a young 18th century baron who decides to spend the rest of his life living in trees (spoiler alert), could be obnoxiously whimsical, but was in fact pleasantly whimsical. And sustained. And funny. And well plotted. And beautifully described.'

Mr Hager chose Elena Ferrante’s ‘Neapolitan Quartet’: 'conceived of as a single work by the author, these four novels follow the lives of two intelligent girls as they grow up and grow old in Naples. Spanning 60 years, the Quartet ranges widely over historical and cultural themes, ponders the social responsibility of the writer without neglecting the age-old themes of love, friendship, sex and death. They are wonderful, and well worth your time.'


Rob Norris selected The Bees by Laline Paull: 'written from the perspective of a new born worker bee, Paull's novel explores the inner workings of the seemingly simple and uninteresting bee society.  She manages to make it accessible and exciting without watering down the details of a bee's life.'


Ms Graham nominated Nudge: Improving Decisions about Health, Wealth and Happiness by Richard H Thaler and Cass R Sunstein: 'the authors use their expertise in psychology and economics (Thaler is a Nobel Prize winner in economics) to explain how we make decisions. In addition to revealing the way people make decisions it provides valuable lessons in how to influence (nudge) people toward a particular decision such as not smoking or increasing savings. I recommend it as an easy read for a topic that is more complex that it might appear.'


Jack Peachey recommended Cat's Eye by Margaret Atwood 'because of its insights into the thoughts and feelings of a child.  The book alternates between an artist's present day life and flashbacks to her troubled youth, which makes for a stylistically interesting read.'


Mr Watts's nomination is Common Writing (2016) by Stefan Collini: 'the latest in Stefan Collini’s piecemeal history of Britain, Common Writing exposes a whole world of twentieth-century literary culture and public debate through exquisitely drawn portraits of well and lesser known writers and academics. These range from Pound and Eliot to Roy Jenkins and Michael Ignatieff via mid-century ‘historian-intellectuals’ like Herbert Butterfield, Eileen Power, and Hugh Trevor-Roper. The big messages are clear: disciplines matter, to write well is to think well, to speak of public intellectuals in Britain isn’t oxymoronic, and so on. The anthology, largely compiled from Collini’s regular columns in periodicals like the LRB and the TLS, also contains a stinging critique of today’s Higher Education landscape of immediate interest to all those soon embarking on that journey.'


Ms McLaughlin's first recommendation is The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov: 'I re-read this book, primarily because I bought a really beautiful edition and partly because, having seen a vivid production by the progressive theatre company, Complicité, a few years ago, I couldn’t exactly remember how the novel ended.


'Written in the Soviet Union between 1928-1940, Mikhail Bulgakov’s controversial novel’s plot is woven from two threads - one set in contemporary Russia and the other in Jerusalem under Pontius Pilate. Russia in 1929 is a corrupt city inhabited by people who have forsaken their spirituality and moral codes. Against this backdrop, the Devil, accompanied by a very unique entourage, enters Moscow and begins a seemingly random debate with a pair of literary elites about the existence of God, the plot continues to include a Satanic ball; the murder of Judas; a love story and vampire attacks. Not published in its original, uncensored form until 1973, Bulgakov’s biting satire of Soviet life, dazzling fantasy and dramatic love story was being written by the author up until the last weeks of his life, endured decades of banning and censorship and is considered by many as one of the greatest novels of the 20th Century. In fact, it is rumoured that Stalin was secretly a big fan and this was the main reason that the novel survived on the black market.


'Sticking with fantasy, but moving to Japan, Haruki Murakami’s trilogy 1Q84 also weaves two seemingly separate plots. Firstly, Aomame, who begins the novel doing, as her taxi driver says, something ‘out of the ordinary’ and Tengo, a math teacher at a cram school and would-be writer. When Tengo gets involved in the strange circumstances surrounding a brilliant but mysterious young writer, his and Aomame’s fates are tied together – or perhaps they already were? Just shy of 1000 pages, I might suggest not, as I did, reading the combined edition if you want a book to travel with. That said, it is a testament to both the plot and Murakami’s telling of the tale that I was so willing to carry it around with me over the summer! If you wanted a slimmer volume to get to know Murakami, I can also highly recommend What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, which he describes as ‘a kind of memoir’. A play on Raymond Carver’s title, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, Murakami's novel discusses and describes how he started running, now runs every day, and has overcome hitting the wall in completed ultramarathons. The book offers a frank insight into his joy in, and insecurities about, his talent and endurance for both running and writing.'


Ms Waller strongly recommends A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry, which 'is a beautiful read. It emotionally breaks its readers, but takes the trouble to reassemble the parts. I felt like a slightly better human after reading it, which seems to me the highest praise possible for this sort of novel.


'I'll add two trouser-themed recommendations. Robert Tressell's The Ragged-Trousered Philanthropists was lent to me by a Pauline, and has a voice unlike any other book I've read, describing the lives of a vividly-drawn group of impoverished painters and decorators in the early twentieth century. Alright, so that doesn't sound any more cheerful than the Mistry, but it is psychologically and politically fascinating in its description of the harm done to the weak by their deference, gullibility and inertia, and in its satirical swipes at the piety of the self-interested, hand-wringing middle class.


'The other one is The Maker of Heavenly Trousers by Daniele Varè, an Italian Diplomat writing about China in the 1930s. Now this is a weird little novel with dubious elements, but as a period piece and a glimpse of European attitudes to China, it's fun.


'I have planned my own Christmas reading around another theme: I will be rereading books about Things. After rediscovering Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, I'll move on to Transparent Things, in which Vladimir Nabokov confronts the nature of perception: "A thin veneer of immediate reality is spread over natural and artificial matter, and whoever wishes to remain in the now, with the now, on the now, should please not break its tension film. Otherwise the inexperienced miracle-worker will find himself no longer walking on water but descending upright among staring fish."'


Mr Bourne's book of the year is Fyodor Dostoyevsky's The House of the Dead (Penguin Classics 2003 edition, translated by David McDuff): 'I found Dostoyevsky's account of his four years in a Siberian prison camp to be an exceptionally powerful and moving portrait of a world far removed from our own. The vividness of what he describes, together with the subtlety of his observations and the beauty of his character portrayals, all imbue this book with life, and create a striking contrast to the physical and mental torment which the author himself must have experienced.'


Miss McLaren's nominations are both non-fiction: 'Last Hope Island is Lynne Olson's bracing account of Britain's dealings with various occupied European countries during WWII. It paints a shabby picture of political pragmatism, institutional incompetence and blinkered prejudice, and ought to be required reading for Europhobes.


'I'd also recommend Roz Chast's graphic memoir, Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant? which focusses on the artist's complicated relationship with her parents as they grow older: funny and sad in equal measure.

Mr Toller recommends The Making of the English Landscape by W G Hoskins: 'I found this book thrillingly eye-opening. It explains how the extraordinary map of England came into being – why there are winding lanes that seem to lead nowhere, why some landscapes are wide open and others are enclosed, why in the nineteenth century Nottingham developed a notorious slum area while Stamford was caught in a time-warp. It gave me a completely new way of thinking about countryscapes and townscapes that I have known all my life. It was published in 1955 and although its concepts have subsequently been developed and improved, its enthusiastic sense of discovery makes it a wonderful read today.' 

His choice for fiction is Waterland by Graham Swift: 'in 1983 this novel was shortlisted for the Booker but I reread it again this year. It is an East Anglian epic, the story of the rise and fall of a local family told by its last representative, a history teacher. There is a tragic sense of hubris followed by catharsis, while the extraordinary landscape of the Fen country is all-pervasive. The narrative tone is remarkable; each chapter starts out as if it were the beginning of a school history lesson but the voice gradually becomes more impersonal so that the tragedy is more vividly realised.'


If you'd like to recommend a book you've read this year, we'd love you to add it, via the comments option below. In the meantime, many thanks once again to all our contributors throughout the year - your continued support is much appreciated - and Merry Christmas from the book blog!

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