Books of the Year

It's our final post of the year, and, as always, we've asked people to recommend the books they most enjoyed reading this year.  

First up this year is Miss Douglass: 'This year I have been on a mission to read as many books as I can: at the moment I have read 54. The one that surprised me the most, so much so that I am now reading more books by the same author, was Elantris by Brandon Sanderson. 

Usually, I can predict where a book is going, so it is rare that a plot twist surprised me. Elantris had two different plot twists that surprised me.'  

Mr Smith: 'I would like to nominate When the Ice is Gone (2024) by Paul Bierman.  

It is the story of ice core science written by one of the field’s top scientists.  It doesn’t necessarily sound gripping, but Arctic adventures are always full of peril and the book is superbly and authoritatively written, explaining how we know what we know about the history of Earth’s climate – in short, humans keep leaving marks.'

Ms Cloke: 'Please may I recommend Just One Damned Thing After Another by Jodi Taylor? It was recommended to me by Mrs Cummings earlier in the year and is already becoming a favourite. 

The series follows the staff at St Mary’s as they traverse through time to explore forgotten worlds and save priceless artifacts lost in time; a series with gripping twists and turns, and very memorable characters. This book is also in the library, ready to be borrowed!'

Alex also recommends a novel and series with an element of temporal confusion - On The Calculation of Volume by Solvej Balle: 'in On the Calculation of Volume, Solvej Balle brings a more introspective lens to the time-loop narrative, a form popularised by the 1993 (Christmas!) film Groundhog Day. 

Here, the protagonist relives each day from precisely the place she left it the day before. As the book unfolds, she discovers solace in movement through space, rather than the passage of time, travelling across Europe as the calendar remains stationary. If it resonates with you, there are already three volumes available, with a fourth on the way!'

The High Master has three recommendations. First of all, Everything is Tuberculosis by John Green:  'Green, best known for YA best seller The Fault in our Stars, has written an incredibly readable non-fiction work which tracks the history of a disease.  

Once known as ‘consumption’ and romanticised as only afflicting the pure and poetic, TB acts as a lens through which Green observes humanity’s changing views of life and death and, in particular, the lack of medical equity in the modern world.  He has a knack for combining personal anecdote, historical evidence, and philosophical observations which render the book of interest to a wide audience.'

Secondly, The Painter’s Daughters by Emily Howes: 'I knew very little about the life of artist Thomas Gainsborough, although I would have recognised many of his paintings, before I read this fictionalised account of the lives of his daughters, Peggy and Molly. 

Famous paintings form the background to the narrative with works such as 'The Blue Boy' and 'Johann Christian Fischer' supplying the characters we meet on the page.  Although this is very much a novel and not a biography, it does draw out genuine facts from the family’s life that are fascinating.'

Finally, the High Master would like to recommend The Blackout Murders, first in The Homefront Sleuths series by Anna Elliott and Charles Veley: 'This series of whodunnits set in 1940s Kent describe themselves as ‘cozy mysteries’ on the front cover.  They are in no way pretending to by great literature but if, like me, you like a book that offers a puzzle and guarantees a solution, then they are great way to relax.  

The Homefront Sleuths themselves are an engaging collection of characters left at home for various reasons during the war and, whilst Book 1 is comfortable rather than innovative, as the series continues the sleuths get involved in real espionage and international intrigue.' 

The High Master had three recommendations: Dr Harrison has a mighty four, starting with Precipice by Robert Harris: 'Robert Harris has carved his niche in narrative accounts of historic events, weaving real people and real events into his creations, blurring the lines of truth and fiction: Cicero's decline, the hunt for the King Charles I's regicides in Act of Oblivion [see Mr Fagan's recommendation later on in this post], and a re-telling of the Dreyfus affair. 

In Precipice, we're introduced to HH Asquith, a flawed but fundamentally decent man, prime minister in the run up to what becomes the First World War, and Venetia Stanley, a member of a prominent aristocratic family with wealth, stately homes and influence, and their increasingly inappropriate affair. As the country descends into war, she becomes his closest confidante and advisor, he becomes less careful, and she starts to grow uncomfortable in her role. Fastidiously researched and believably woven, the story is richly detailed and utterly credible. 

The Greyhound Diary is the tale of Judy Montagu as she travelled around the US in the years following the Second World War. Montagu was Venetia Stanley's daughter and distant relative of Churchill: she describes a country we can still recognise, full of post-war hope, a real contrast to the bleakness from Precipice and her mother's experience. 

Next, Dr Harrison suggests Ensh*ttification by Cory Doctorow: 'Doctorow is a master storyteller of fictional alternate near futures (Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, Makers, Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town) or using technology to attack The Man (Little Brother, Red Team Blues, Radicalized), although here he lays out the real world problems with the recent past, as the subtitle says:  Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What to Do About It. 

He coined the term for the apparently inevitable progression of big tech firms from being the thing you needed to becoming the site that locked you in and made it impossible to leave. Here, he sketches out ways in which you might fight back against how Amazon, Google, Microsoft, Apple, Facebook and Twitter/X have come to dominate the world. 

Relatedly, Careless People is the behind-the-scenes story of the growth of Facebook from plucky startup to global influencer, Sarah Wynn-Williams describes her job managing policy, but also managing Mark Zuckerberg's rise to self-identified (but unelected) global leader and the company's expectations around its self-importance. 

It's a breathless tale, highlighting the work-work-work culture in Silicon Valley, and who is in charge of these prominent companies. Facebook have officially distanced themselves from this story, but given what was written, they would, wouldn't they?'

Also on the topic of techno-pessimism, Miss McLaren recommends If Anyone Builds It, Everyone Dies by Eliezer Yudkowsky and Nate Soares, which is 'every bit as bracing and cheerful as the title suggests. 

The book outlines the pros and cons - mostly the cons - of developing superintelligent AI, each chapter prefaced with short introductory fables that make the content and ideas accessible even to non-specialist readers. The book is also a fascinating example of how to argue by analogy: given that the analogies include Chernobyl, the Challenger space shuttle disaster, and the Manhattan Project, you can see where the authors are going on this topic. Whatever your thoughts on AI, it's a fascinating gateway into the issue (as is another novel by the prolific Robert Harris: The Fear Index).'

Miss McLaren would also like to recommend the latest novel from Jonathan Coe, The Proof of My Innocence: 

'A slicker, more streamlined version of Coe's scathing early 90s satire, What a Carve-Up!, this is a smart and witty meta-textual murder mystery. Set against the backdrop of Reform style party politics, and full of sharply observed dissections of contemporary idiocies, and digs at everything from cosy crime to Donna Tartt, this is a highly entertaining read. While it would be nice to say you'll never hear 'see it, say it, sorted' in quite the same way again, that wouldn't be true, but at least you'll know that Jonathan Coe finds it every bit as annoying as you do.'  

Teddy also recommends a novel mystery: 'my book recommendation is The Grand Babylon Hotel by Arnold Bennett.

What I enjoyed about this book is the way it seems to parody the genre of the Victorian mystery novel through the lens of what might happen if a hard-headed, nouveau-riche American businessman were thrown into the exclusive and secretive society of European aristocracy. It has moments of genuine humour while still providing an intriguing murder-mystery, and is able to connect with modern audiences despite being over a century old.'

Mrs Cummings has enjoyed Tracy Chevalier’s The Glassmaker - 'set in Venice, is a beautiful story about a woman and her family of glassmakers across hundreds of years. It transports you to that astonishing city, and I was engrossed by it.' 

along with Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid, which 'brilliantly captures the excitement and excess of the sixties, and Fleetwood Mac in particular. One for older readers.'

Mrs Cummings also recommends Little Bang by Kelly McCaughrain, 'a bittersweet teen romance set in Northern Ireland in 2018. The abortion ban is still in place, so when there’s an accidental pregnancy, the protagonists realise it's very different for boys and girls. 

Beautifully written, this really makes the reader think, while also being very accessible to its teenage audience.'

Mrs Wilkinson: 'I loved the coming of age story Glasgow Boys by Margaret McDonald. This year's Carnegie Winner tells the poignant story of two boys growing up in the care system and how they find friendship with each other.'

She'd also like to recommend My Friends by Frederick Backman: 

'This is one of my favourite reads this year as it tracks a life time of friendship, with all the twists and turns along the way.'

Mrs Pemberton was also won over by Glasgow Boys, as well as The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah and a contemporary coming-of-age classic - Aristotle & Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáen.

Mr Mahmoud recommends This Orient Isle by Jerry Brotton: 'True scholarship challenges simplistic binaries. Jerry Brotton’s book is an exquisite example of this. 

This Orient Isle is a forensic exploration of Elizabethan England’s contradictory relationship with Islam as a faith, and Morocco and the Ottoman Empire as Muslim powers. One might assume that the only mentality open to Elizabethans was, ‘Christianity Good, Islam Bad.’ Not so; this was the time of the Reformation. Religious and political boundaries were constantly challenged and redrawn. A faction within Elizabeth’s circle had no qualms in siding with Muslim Morocco against Catholic Spain, even providing weapons and support. 

Abd Al-Wahid bin Masoud bin Muhammad al-Annuri, leader of the Moroccan embassy to Queen Elizabeth's court in 1600

The idea of a Christian nation arming Muslims against another Christian nation caused outrage in some quarters, whilst others argued that the enemy of ‘true’ Christianity (i.e. Protestantism) was the idolatrous Catholic Church. Sunni and Shia Muslims made similar arguments justifying cooperation with Christians against their denominational and geopolitical rivals. As is so often the case, theological discourse cloaked political manoeuvrings. 

The ambiguity and complexity of Elizabethan England’s relationship with ‘Islam’, ranging from admiration to vilification, is embodied in the character of Othello. Shakespeare’s ‘Moor’ (a term denoting both a North African and a Muslim) is presented as noble and decorated, yet base, unreasoned and heretical. If you want an example of how reading history can change your perception of the world, this is it.'

Harper recommends The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy:

'This is a great book that follows the vicissitudes of a pickle factory in India, and the ups and downs of the family that runs it. It has really beautiful writing and carries on the fantastic tradition of magic realism. Its descriptions of nature are pulchritudinous!'

Mr John has two suggestions: first of all, The Door by Magda Szabó: 'I stumbled upon Magda Szabó's writing earlier this year on a dusty café bookshelf in East London, and it felt like opening a door into an entirely new way of seeing the world. Her writing doesn’t just tell stories, it interrogates the forces that shape us: history, culture, and the architecture of identity. Through her characters, Szabó asks what it means to belong, to endure, and to carry the weight of memory.

The three texts of hers I have read this year are all enthralling, but her 1987 novel, The Door, takes the top spot. It tells the story of the co-dependent relationship between a successful writer and her mysterious, elderly housekeeper, Emerence. Spanning a 20-year period following the 1956 Hungarian revolution, Szabó crafts a narrative that is as much about secrecy and trust as it is about the fragility of human connection. As the novel progresses, we are fed snippets which help us understand Emerence's reticence, and lets us fall in love with the painful and beautiful friendship which blossoms between her and the narrator.

What makes The Door unforgettable is the moral ambiguity which plagues its characters. Emerence is both a saviour and a tyrant, a figure whose impenetrable private life becomes a mirror for the narrator’s own vulnerabilities. Through her, Szabó forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about loyalty, pride, and the limits of empathy. It’s a book that lingers long after the last page - haunting, profound, and impossible to categorise.

Mr John's second suggestion is Bellies by Nicola Dinan: 'Bellies struck me as one of the most authentic and tender portrayals of a queer experience I’ve ever read. What really stayed with me was how Dinan captures the complexity of loving someone as they change, how grief can co-exist with love when the person you knew isn’t gone, but they’ve become someone new. That tension is written with such honesty that it feels almost physical.

At its heart, Bellies follows two people who fall deeply in love in their early twenties and begin building a life together. When one of them decides to transition, the story explores what that means for their relationship, their sense of self, and the future they imagined together. It’s not a book about conflict for the sake of drama, but one about intimacy, identity, and the quiet, seismic shifts that happen when bodies and lives transform.

The novel doesn’t shy away from the rawness of this experience, instead, fully embracing the joy, vulnerability and fear which its characters traverse, without sensationalising them. Dinan writes with a clarity that makes you ache, and by the end, you’re left wholly appreciative of the beauty which accompanies the process of becoming - an experience which we can all relate to, regardless of our sexuality or gender identity.'

Patrick, noting that he is contractually obligated to mention next term's play, recommends Amadeus by Peter Shaffer:

'A refreshing take on ambition and faith, and how they interact. It takes time to fully analyse a psychologically tormented character, creating genuine complexity rather than relying on moral ambiguity to create artificial complexity. Worth a read before the senior production!' Thank you, Patrick - we take the hint.  

Ms de Souza would like to recommend Clear by Carys Davies: 'This is a lovely, heartwarming story of communication and friendship set in the bleak landscape of the Scottish Highlands – I devoured it in an afternoon!'

Tom, our resident expert in fin-de-siѐcle supernatural fiction, suggests readers might enjoy a Christmas ghost story - The Turn of the Screw by Henry James: 'this is a brilliant novel set in a classic gothic backdrop yet has nuance and eerie detail beyond belief. 

When a new governess is sent to look after two orphans in a large country house, she is excited at the new opportunity, but as time grows on, it is revealed that there is a dark, sinister side to Bly Manor threatening their existence. Can the governess protect herself and the children from these malicious forces? James leaves the ending ambiguous, letting the reader select how they want the novel to end, a clever ending to a thrilling read.'

Mr Kemp recommends Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry, 'a brilliant book about two retired Texas Rangers in the 1870s. 

It's massive in every possible way, with superb dialogue and brilliant characters. Read it on your gap year. Makes you want to drive 2,500 cattle and two pigs all the way from Texas to Montana.'

Reuben suggests a novel with a very different tone and milieu, but equally compelling: 'the book I would like to recommend is The Secret History by Donna Tartt. 

It is a semi-murder mystery following college students in Vermont. It is well written, and only took me a couple of days to finish which I don't find with many books. A very enjoyable novel that I would recommend, it could be perfect for something to read over Christmas.'

Cillian suggests Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami: 'arguably the best bildungsroman I have ever read, haunting and hopeful in equal measure.'

Nabil also suggests a book about Japan, this time non-fiction: The Shortest History of Japan by Leslie Downer. 'This is an entry from the Shortest History series. It covers Japanese history from the first people to arrive on the Japanese archipelago all the way to the assassination of former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe. 

It's not a super-comprehensive view of history, but it does an excellent job of quickly informing the reader about many historical concepts. Additionally. Beyond that it aims to communicate cultural concepts to a western audience.'

Finally, last, but definitely not least, two suggestions from Mr Fagan. The first is Act of Oblivion by Robert Harris: 

'A tense, thrilling account of the aftermath of the execution of King Charles I and English Civil War, and how the executioners are pursued to the new colonies in America by agents sent by the dead king’s son King Charles II after the Restoration of the monarchy in 1660. Masters the volatile atmosphere of the 17th century and the brutal conflict between religious beliefs and political power.”

And the second is The Code of the Woosters by P G Wodehouse: 'Hardly fresh off the printing press but a classic of comedy writing and an antidote to all winter doom and gloom. 

Possibly the best Jeeves and Wooster, poking fun at populist politician buffoon Roderick Spode and his Black Shorts, fending off the drippy Madeleine Bassett who thinks the Milky Way is 'God’s daisy chain' and making farcical attempts to steal a cow creamer for Wooster’s bossy aunt Agatha. Pure pleasure!' 

The book blog completely agrees: if you haven't yet encountered Jeeves and Wooster, this is the perfect place to start.  Huge thanks to all our contributors for taking the trouble to send us their suggestions at this busy, busy time of the year: we hope they've given you some ideas for holiday reading, and best wishes for a happy and book-filled Christmas break!