January was a quiet snowy month when I was at home, and I read twenty-five books, and here they are.
A Discord of Trumpets, Claud Cockburn (1956)
The autobiography of journalist and communist Claud Cockburn, most famous for saying “Never trust anything until it’s been officially denied.” Very funny when talking about his ridiculous upper class English family, very interesting when talking about his slow awakening to politics, and how journalism worked in the period. His style is adorable—it’s the kind of book one constantly wants to read bits aloud from. Enjoyable and thought provoking, well worth reading. I wish the later volumes were available.
Tau Zero, Poul Anderson (1970)
Re-read, but so long since I first read it I’d pretty much forgotten everything but the premise of a spaceship that goes so fast it can’t slow down and has to keep going to the end of the universe. I found it weird and uncomfortable around sex and power, and it had unlikable and depressing characters. A bit of a downer.
The Raven Tower, Ann Leckie (2019)
This was great fun, an odd version of Hamlet in a fantasy world, narrated by a god in direct address. Very readable, and covering a huge span of geological, evolutionary, and then historical time in narrated backstory that was my favourite bit. Nifty worldbuilding. I hope Leckie writes more standalone things just like this only completely different, if you know what I mean.
The Christmas Card Crime and Other Stories, Martin Edwards (Editor) (2019)
The latest of the British Library Crime Classics anthologies Edwards has put together, and like all of them a terrific combination of forgotten Golden Age of crime short stories loosely arranged around a theme. I will read as many of these as he cares to give me; he knows the field really well, and while some stories are certainly better than others there’s rarely even one dud.
Because Internet: Understanding the New Rules of Language, Gretchen McCulloch (2019)
Oh this was excellent. Did you know emoji sit in the same linguistic place as gestures? This is a descriptive linguistics and history of the social internet, compulsively readable and full of fascinating stuff. This is one of those books that you almost certainly want to read whether you know it or not, and even if all you want to do is argue with it. Well informed, erudite, funny and inclusive.
Resurgence, C.J. Cherryh (2020)
The latest in the Atevi series, which I’ve been reading literally for decades, and, sadly, I might be done with it even if she isn’t. It’s alien soap opera at this point. “Here’s some more” isn’t really enough. Disappointing, especially after last year’s terrific Alliance Rising. Read the first six and then probably stop unless you really love Atevi politics, in which case read I guess the first 17 and then stop? In any case, don’t start here.
Unto Us a Son is Given, Donna Leon (2019)
These, on the other hand, continue to do new things, and I think you probably could pick this volume up without having read any of the others and get a lot out of it. In any case, I am not even slightly tired of these mysteries set in Venice with their murky morality. There’s nothing like a murder until 60% of the way through this, but I didn’t mind a bit. Donna Leon is great. There’s a new volume due in March.
Too Like the Lightning (2016), Seven Surrenders (2017), The Will to Battle (2018), Perhaps the Stars (2021), Ada Palmer.
Re-read of all four books together to consider the first three in the light of the fourth, and also because since I read them in October I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them. Just wonderful, and as a complete set, even better. It’s odd, I find when I talk about these I keep reverting to my subjective immersive experience of reading them, or their place in the field—comparable to The Book of the New Sun or Stars In My Pocket Like Grains of Sand—rather than talking about what they’re about. This is because there is so much and it’s impossible to do justice to it all so it’s difficult to know where to start. I wrote a whole piece for Crooked Timber just about the narrative style—and you might want to check out the whole Crooker Timber seminar. It’s too good and too powerful to see around or to attempt to sum up, so I keep being thrown back on “Wow” and “Yes, this is what science fiction is for.”
The Lathe of Heaven, Ursula K. Le Guin (1971)
Re-read, for bookclub. It’s a very short book, and it’s really about the nature of reality and possibility, but I’ve read it a zillion times and I always find something new. It’s both very Taoist and much more human-centered than you’d expect.
Talleyrand, Duff Cooper (1932)
A biography of Talleyrand by diplomat and politician Duff Cooper, very much looking at Talleyrand as a diplomat. A little dated, but still readable. I’d like a modern biography of Talleyrand.
The Children of Hurin, J.R.R. Tolkien (2007)
The tale of Túrin Turambar, all as one coherent whole. I’m not sure whether to count this as a re-read or not, because I haven’t read this book before, but I’ve certainly read enough other versions of this story.
Money For Nothing, Donald Westlake (2003)
Re-read. This guy gets a check for $1000 from “United States Agent.” Then the next month he gets another. He puts them in the bank. Seventeen years later he gets activated, and shenanigans ensue. Breathless pace, I read it all in one afternoon, Westlake at his most unputdownable.
Would Like to Meet, Rachel Winters (2019)
A chick lit novel about an agent trying to help a star finish a script by actually performing “meet cutes.” It’s not the most plausible scenario, but it’s delightful actually, a fast fun read with a strong voice. Recommended by Claire of The Captive Reader.
Mothering Sunday, Noel Streatfeild (1950)
Re-read. This is one of Streatfeild’s adult novels, and one I was lucky enough to find in a thrift store for 10p years ago. Wonderful use of POV to tell the story of a family whose elderly mother is acting strangely so all the now adult children—except the one who was a deserter of course, but we don’t talk about him—get together to try to sort things out. This is a portrait of a family over time, and the different lives and points of view of all the adult children.
Evening in the Palace of Reason: Bach Meets Frederick the Great, James R. Gaines (2005)
This is the story of how Bach’s Musical Offering was created, the whole context of it, but it’s also a biography of two very different men. I was surprised to find Frederick, about whom I knew essentially nothing, more interesting than Bach, whose music I listen to every day.
Dance of the Happy Shades and Other Stories, Alice Munro (1968)
There’s a special feel to Munro that isn’t really like anyone else. She’ll write these short little things that are about childhood embarrassment or not knowing what you want, and on the one hand there’s nothing there, and on the other it’s so rich and well observed and powerful. She really deserved that Nobel.
Ninth House, Leigh Bardugo (2019)
YA novel, edging on horror, about a girl who is given a scholarship to Yale because she can see ghosts. (What? They give people scholarships because they can play a particular sport.) I thought this was going to be a college novel, but it isn’t really, it doesn’t have the shape or the concerns of one, it’s exclusively about the secret societies and their magic. It’s good, very much the kind of thing you can’t put down once you get into it, which is good because the more I think about the worldbuilding the more uncomfortable I get. There’s a line about magic moving from Europe along with its practitioners in the nineteenth century which really doesn’t bear examination. Europe! It’s a real place and still there. America had people when Europeans arrived.
Talk Like a Man, Nisi Shawl (2019)
Short story collection, not as wide ranging as Filter House but much shorter. Excellent stories, a non-fiction piece, and an interview, as usual in these PM Press anthologies. Shawl is one of our finest writers and we should make more fuss about her. For a start, read this.
Magic in Western Culture: From Antiquity to the Enlightenment, Brian P. Copenhaver (2015)
Copenhaver put out two books at the same time with very similar titles, this one and a sourcebook of all the texts about magic, which is terrific. This one is about the way people thought magic worked at different times, about theories of magic, which you’d think would be interesting and useful, but a lot of it I knew already and a lot of the rest I kept getting bogged down. Still, I’m glad I’ve read it, and I wholeheartedly recommend his other one.
The Pursuit of Love, Nancy Mitford (1945)
Re-read, bath book. Nancy Mitford takes the stuff of her life, and (less forgivably) the lives of her family, and makes them into this sharp, snobbish, yet sentimental novel of a young girl from a terrible upper class family who pursues love as one might a questing beast. It’s a very different book depending on what you know about the actual Mitford sisters, and yet the exaggerations for fiction here also colour what we think we know about the reality, so it’s not a book that can be read out of its context in any way.
If Venice Dies, Salvatore Settis (2014)
A book about what cities are, and the souls of cities, and why when we think diversity is a good thing for people we should want all our cities all over the world to be homogenous and identical. Lots of ideas, some of them not very firmly grounded, others provocative. He needs to read Jane Jacobs. But he’s right about a lot of things, and I have no answers to a lot of his questions.
Gourmet Rhapsody, Muriel Barbery (2000)
Almost like an outtake from The Elegance of the Hedgehog, this is a novella about the dying food critic mentioned in that book. Here, on his death bed he craves one last taste—but what taste is it? He ranges back through a life of eating delicious things trying to figure it out. This book may make you hungry.
Jo Walton is a science fiction and fantasy writer. She’s published two collections of Tor.com pieces, three poetry collections, a short story collection and thirteen novels, including the Hugo- and Nebula-winning Among Others. Her fourteenth novel, Lent, was published by Tor on May 28th 2019. She reads a lot, and blogs about it here irregularly. She comes from Wales but lives in Montreal. She plans to live to be 99 and write a book every year.
I’m midway through Resurgence, and what I’ve been liking about the last few books is not so much of the Bren storyline, but Cajeiri’s: She’s showing some remarkable character development, of a child who will inherit rulership of a society someday getting to understand the personal and global politics of this alien world.
But I don’t get what you like about the Ada Palmer books — I read the first because of the Hugo nom, and really, really didn’t like the story she was telling, or the writing.
Jo,
I can’t believe you mentioned The Book of the New Sun and Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand along with Ada Palmer’s series because those were the thoughts I had while reading the first two in her series. Those books are always in my top 5 books of all time (people look at me funny when I put the Delaney in there). And once Perhaps the Stars is published I plan to re-read all four. You are spot on about these works. Thanks!
Frederick is an incredibly fascinating man! I did my undergrad thesis on the German Enlightenment and his effect on the movement.
I’m doing some slow re-reading of Donna Leon, and for contrast, re-reading the Charlotte Macleod cozy mysteries.
Money for Nothing sounds similar to Lawrence Block’s The Thief Who Couldn’t Sleep– where the protagonist is mistaken for an extra-special secret agent, and can never convince his ‘boss’ otherwise.
25 books in one month!?!?! You are living the dream!
Minor comment: I don’t agree that “The Ninth House’ Is YA.
A quintessential Anderson :)
Another minor comment: “Perhaps the Stars (2021)”. That’s actually coming out soon, right? Right? Right?
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Jo.
At least I’ve read some of these, though I’m sad to largely share your view of Resurgence. Unless Cherryh’s loading up for a big finish, this one is a bit slow. It’s both necessary and sad to see Cajeiri maturing out of his impetuosity and longing for adventure because he’s learned to count the costs.
Duff Cooper’s is the only bio of Talleyrand I’ve ever seen in English and I found it very interesting. The Mitford is fun, but not anything I wanted to read again. (But what a family! and their story is yet another argument for properly educating girls.)
Raven Tower is next on my TBR list …
Thanks again for doing these great roundups!
Chris: 2021 is correct for Perhaps the Stars, I’m afraid. But it’s worth waiting for, really.
One of the reasons I loved Cooper’s biography of Talleyrand is that Cooper himself had been in the world of statesmanship — it’s a different take than an academic’s, but with more of an intuitive awareness of the realities and responsibilities of power.
I am also very hyped by the knowledge that Ada Palmer’s next book is on the way… it is, isn’t it? Please? Please? Pretty please with sugar on top…
I certainly agree that Mitford’s novels can’t be read out of her context–none of the sisters can. I was first introduced to them by JKR’s explanation that the Black sisters were based off Unity (Bellatrix), Diana (Narcissa), and Jessica (Andromeda), and read Hons and Rebels which led me to the letters between the sisters which led me to work my way through everything they all ever published. It’s so interesting to see the way they each interpret their upbringing and the dynamics among themselves. I’m wild for a good meaty Mitford miniseries.
That’s a perfect description of Munro. I need to make a disciplined read of one of her collections — so far I’ve only read those I’ve encountered in the wild, mainly in the New Yorker.
There’s a neat and somewhat uncharacteristic novella called “The Albanian Virgin” that I really like. Though it’s not a story you’d ever say “there’s nothing there” about!
How do you read 25 books in a month and still make a living? And a life?
PJCamp — I’m a writer and I work at home. I also get paid for writing about books as well as writing books. Some of what I read is research and inspiration and feeds back into my writing, some of it is keeping up with the field, which is useful though not all writers do it, and some of it is deliberately reading outside the field which again, is useful. Reading is one of the tools of my trade, and my secret superpower, although the reason I do it is mostly because I like it.
Also, I DO NOT WATCH TV, full stop end of sentence. In January I watched zero TV and one movie. I also spend very little time playing videogames. In January I played 2048 on my phone a few times when waiting for things, probably less than half an hour total.
And I’m disabled, so I don’t do a whole lot of physical stull that many people spend time doing — I can walk with a cane, though not so much in uncleared snow, but it hurts to climb stairs, run, dance, or stand still. This was a month with a fairly high number of pain days in which I wasn’t fit to write and so did literally nothing but lie around reading all day. A book like Would Like to Meet or Ninth House that can really distract me from pain is a godsend sometimes. But this is the thing that makes Neuralnet’s positively intended “living the dream” difficult to wholeheartedly agree with.
I do have a social life, but it tends to happen in short intense bursts, and in winter it tends to be mainly in the apartment, a couple of nights a week when friends come over or visit for a weekend from out of town. But yes, reading is a big part of my life, and I feel really good and positive about that. I love reading. I’m sorry if it doesn’t give you the same delight.
I’ve been doing these reading updates for almost a year now. If you have time to glance over them you’ll see that the number of books I read varies a huge amount month by month depending on what else I’m doing, from a high of 33 to a low of 8.
I just read a lot. It’s what I do. You’re not going to make me feel bad for doing it. But you might make other people who read a lot feel bad, when you imply that it prevents one from having a life or a living, and especially other disabled people and chronic pain sufferers for whom reading is a benison.
As usual, very interesting options to explore! Thanks for sharing. I always look forward to this monthly reviews.
I would love to know what you think of as the quintessential college novels. I feel like there are surprisingly few of them out there!
Pamela Dean’s Tam Lin, Mary McCarthy’s The Group, Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited, Marge Piercy’s Braided Lives, L.M. Mongomery’s Anne of the Island — you know, when I come to write them down they look like a very odd assortment, but what can I say?
Anthony Powell’s A Question of Upbringing (both Eton and Oxford) is a favorite of mine. Add The Gate of Angels, by Penelope Fitzgerald. And The Translator, by John Crowley.
So many famous college novels, though, are more about the teachers than the students. (Lucky Jim for example. Or some of Robertson Davies’ novels, like The Rebel Angels.)
Just read Raven’s Tower, which I liked as well.
Hate to say, I agree with you on Resurgence. Too much set up, too little payoff. Likely the weakest of the entire Foreigner series. Let’s hope the final book in the triad pulls it all together.
Absolutely loved The Raven Tower. Such a joy to read. Perhaps the Stars cannot come soon enough.