My July reading is so good that I’ve been loath to pull myself away from those pages to write a few notes in my journal. . . and even more loath to copy out the notes from last month’s reading to share here. But if I don’t, I won’t get to read your reading suggestions or your responses to my (admittedly meagre!) notes. And I’ll miss tell you about some worthy candidates for your TBR list in time for you to hop into a hammock with one or two of them! So here goes; what I read in June ’23:
I say this every book post now, for those who are new here and as a reminder to regular readers: As usual, the numbering comes from my annual handwritten reading journal, and the italicized text below is directly transcribed from that journal’s pages (once upon a time, I simply included photographs of those pages, but too many of you found my handwriting tough to decipher, especially in the photographed format). I’ve used regular font for any additions to my journal notes and included references to any posts from my Instagram Reading account.
34. The Book of Goose. Yiyun Li. Literary fiction; Coming-of-age; Adolescent girls; Friendship; Alienation; Art and Writing; Set in rural post-war France.
Thanks to @nyreader for recommending this!
Set in rural, post-war France, two adolescent girls (13-14) find relief from the alienation and boredom of hermetic village life in their intense friendship. Recalling that period of her life decades later, Agnès, now married and living in the U.S. (the novelty “French bride” to his friends and family — and yes, she keeps geese) asks herself what she was to Fabienne — whetstone to the other’s knife?
But first she wonders — on the 1st page — whether she might have been an “orange that did not think itself good enough for a knife.” Fabienne is always the instigator and Agnès, enthralled, sometimes horrified. And when Fabienne (plainer, much less able or willing to fit in socially than conventionally pretty Agnès who prefers to get along if possible) launches a plan to enter the life of the newly widowed postmaster. Agnès is launched into a new and bewildering life.
Fabienne decides they will write a book and have the postmaster help them get it published. But Agnes must be the book’s public face, the purported writer, the girl sensation. And when her fame reaches England with the book’s translation, it’s Agnès whose parents dumbfoundedly accept an offer from a British girls’ boarding school and Agnès who must leave everything she’s known.
Reflecting on all of this, and on the continuing consequences, the alienation she feels decades later, Agnès wonders what she ever was to Fabienne, wonders why the friendship was ever so important to her — and wonders also how she has lived without it ever since. Without Fabienne, who understood something about the human condition — about the reality of women’s lives, Fabinne with her conviction that “it’s going to be pain and pain and pain from now on, don’t you see it, Agnès?”
And Fabienne who had taught Agnès something about those creative geniuses teetering between “exaltation and despair,” whose pain Agnès recognizes years later came from “something immense in her, bigger, sharper, more permanent than the life we lived” and from being unable either to “find or make a world to accommodate that immense being.”
The narrative itself is compelling, the situations set up, redolent of exploitation and all its complexities (especially when young teen girls are involved) but it’s the focus on creativity, Art, writing, social alienation, connection that I continue to think about — be troubled by, honestly. . . .
Would read well with any of Elena Ferrante’s novels about the lives of girls and women. Or, yes, with Alice Munro’s short stories (especially The Lives of Girls and Women, sure, but pretty much all of her oeuvre.
My Instagram post here — includes photos of pages with a few favourite excerpts
35. Not Dark Yet. Peter Robinson. Mystery / police procedural; Inspector Banks series; sex slavery; Set in Yorkshire, Paris, Moldava.
The penultimate Inspector Banks, so I was dragging my heels a bit; really don’t want this series to be over. The title points to a Bob Dylan song whose lyrics sum up an underlying melancholy, even despair — although the novel features some major turning points in the lives of Banks’ two grown children.
Unbeknownst to Banks, his friend Ray’s partner, Zelda, is on a vendetta against those who enslaved her as a teen. Her clandestine trip to Moldava, where she was kidnapped decades earlier, stirs up ripples that expose a violent and exploitative international network of sex slavery. She disappears, and as Banks investigates, he sees a connection to an old enemy who had been supposed dead.
Taut and complicated . . . and, as with so many of my old favourite mystery writers, throwing a light on late middle age as these detectives face their mortality in more pragmatic ways, along with the evident risks of policing.
To find my entries for earlier Inspector Banks mysteries, just enter “Inspector Banks” in the search function on this page — click on the magnifying glass icon, above and to the right of the header.
36. Scary Monsters: A Novel in Two Parts. Michelle De Kretser. Literary fiction; Speculative fiction; Historical fiction; social satire; 20th century France; near-future Australia; immigration; refugees; racism; dark humour.
My daughter recommended this, but I forgot to ask her, before I began, which part she read first in this novel comprising two thematically related novellas. I began with the section set in a near-future Australia, dystopic. State surveillance; late-stage capitalism has triumphed over environment, over social justice, etc. Islam has been outlawed as terrorist and any immigrants suspected of Muslim background are required to attend Christian service every Sunday to demonstrate their conversion. Most significantly, law has recently been passed to allow quick processing of requests for assisted death — which apparently is having a positive effect on stimulating the economy and providing more housing.
Devastatingly funny in its irony, but the 126 pages that constitute this half of the novel are very uncomfortable to read. If you want “likeable characters,” this is not your book.
The link between the two sections is that the protagonist/narrator in both is an immigrant — the first, Lyle, is male, with grown children, a wife, and an aging mother. The second, Lily lives in France in 1980, teaching high school English. Racialized in her home country, Australia, she hopes to fit in easily with the young intellectual crowd she’s introduced to. But she can’t escape the projections cast on her as immigrant — nor, even more so perhaps, as a woman.
I’m not entirely convinced by the book as a novel, but the two linked novellas set up a disturbing and productive dialogue. Structurally and stylistically interesting.
See my Instagram posts, here and here, for excerpts that either amused or resonated or both.
37. A Town Called Solace. Mary Lawson. Literary fiction; domestic fiction; 1972 Northern Ontario setting; youth-elderly connection; childhood/coming-of-age.
A young girl (Clara) keeps vigil for her older sister, Rose, who’s run away from her parents’ expectations but promised Clara she’d send word soon. Clara’s mother is too distraught to attend to Clara’s concerns; her father’s “toxic positivity” is no help at all. And the old woman next door — Mrs. Orchard — would normally be a confidante, but has gone into hospital and asked Clara to look after her cat while she’s away.
But then who is the man Clara sees moving into Mrs. Orchard’s house? And why is Mrs. O. away for so long?
The story is told in 3rd-person narrative focussed in turn on Clara, on Mrs. Orchard, and on Liam, the man who’s apparently inherited Mrs. O’s house and come all the way from Toronto to a very small northern town where he arouses much speculation. What is his connection to the old woman? What is there about her past that would surprise — or shock — the townspeople.
Very satisfying unrolling of a story that takes us back 30 or more years and makes some moving and convincing claims about parents and children and trauma, consequences and forgiveness.
38. Landlines. Raynor Winn. Creative non-fiction; Long-distance hiking; Travel by foot; Cape Wrath Trail; West Highland Way; Illness narrative; Pandemic; Eco-criticism; Nature writing.
A 3rd book by Raynor Winn with stakes perhaps even higher than those giving context to the last two. Certainly, the success of Winn’s previous books (The Salt Path and The Wild Silence) has brought her and her husband, Moth, more financial security and led them to the home whose parcel of land they’ve had the satisfaction of coaxing back to health. But Moth’s health (his being diagnosed with corticobasal degeneration was — incredibly — part of what pushed them to walk The Salt Path, a story told in Winn’s debut book) has deteriorated noticeably, even drastically. So much so that he initially refuses Raynor’s tentative suggestions about the possibility of another extended period living outside, taking on another walking adventures. Rather, he insists he’s too tired, and he wants her to accept his approaching end.
Yet she persists . . . and at some point holds out the (seemingly ridiculous) carrot of Britain’s toughest, wildest trail, Cape Wrath. And once that idea gets its hooks into Moth, the momentum is unstoppable and Raynor questions the sanity of their plan and struggles with guilt and fear for the possible consequences to Moth’s health.
I won’t spoil the book for you by telling you what results the experience has on Moth’s condition, but I will tell you there are some cliff-hanging moments (literally!) along the way. I can also tell you that they will walk 1000 miles (cue The Proclaimers!) — the Cape Wrath Trail and then all the way back home to Cornwall — before they’re done.
Lyrical, thoughtful, observant and informative nature writing along with trenchant, humourous, insightful observations about other walkers, hikers, and cyclists they meet along the way; the ways the pandemic changes hospitality along the way; and the ways our industrialization and current agricultural practices are changing rural and wild landscapes. I also appreciate her attention to the effects of the last decade or so’s social and economic policy in Britain. Her tone throughout shifts between grief, elegy, and exhortation, and, yes, hope. She show us all the beauty and importance of what we’re at dire risk of losing, irretrievably, but she also points to possibilities for individual and collective action, and redemptive moments abound throughout.
39. The Long Call. Ann Cleeves. Mystery. Police procedure; Two Rivers series; North Devon setting; LGBTQ.
I needed a mystery that would be easy to read on the ferry and in breaks between looking after grandkids in Victoria. This introductory volume in Cleeves’s Matthew Venn series, set in North Devon, suited very well.
Matthew is an interesting character, a (married) gay police detective who’s been transferred back (as a promotion) to the place where he grew up — and which he left as a young adult renouncing his faith. He’s been thus exiled from his family and from the strict evangelical community
The novel abounds with rich characters, in fact, thoughtfully portrayed in all their nuanced complexity. Adults with learning disabilities and those who care for them; fathers and daughters, mothers and sons, those dealing with complicated layers of culpability. Also religion, respectability, appearances, perceptions. And the kind of setting Ann Cleeves does so well — the village life, but also the rich ecosystems, the tidal zone, the bus rides through semi-rural landscapes. Others in series — The Heron’s Cry and The Raging Storm have now been added to my list.
40. April in Spain. John Banville. Literary fiction; detective fiction; domestic fiction. Late 50’s San Sebastian/Donostia and Dublin.
Banville is one of those writers of detective novels — mysteries, crime fiction, whatever you want to call the genre — who erases or confounds the distinction between literary fiction and genre fiction. I’ve only read two books by him so far (this is the second; Snow was the first), but the exploration of humanity, of good and evil and all the banality in between . . . plus the glories of his prose, the pleasures of his sentences, put paid to any neat or easy bookshop shelving of his work (especially now that he’s writing Detective Quirke books in his own name (the earlier ones were published under his pseudonym, Benjamin Black).
And his characters! So nuanced and complicated, flawed, and struggling, surviving in all their vulnerability. As well, I’m impressed by how well he uses clothing, shoes, comportment, etc., to express that character and move the plot forward: the too-short, sharply creased fawn trousers of a killer-for-hire for example, or the worn but well-shone shoes that signal a police officer’s old-money family background. The large red blooms on an elegant dress, foretelling. . . . But no spoilers here.
Detective Quirke (great name, right?!) and his wife, a psychiatrist and a Holocaust survivor. I’m definitely going to read more of these, starting at the beginning, soon!
And that’s it for another month’s Chronicle of Reading! I hope you might find something here that catches your interest, perhaps a title to add to your TBR list, perhaps a different response to a book than your own, perhaps a curiosity about an author or a novel. Let me know in the comments below, and you know I’m also — always! — interested in knowing what you’d recommend from your own recent reading (as well as what you’d recommend staying away from 😉
Happy Reading! I’m going back to mine right now. . .
xo,
f
Great post with so many interesting books! Recently read The Salt Path, so will follow up on her latest. A thousand mile “hike” in the rough gives one pause! Anne Cleeves is always a treat, will look for this one. Did you recommend A thousand days in Venice and the follow up A thousand days in Tuscany? Just finished both and enjoyed the lyrical writing and delicious recipes immensely!
Author
I haven’t read either of those Marlena de Blasi books, but I will — thanks for pointing me to them. I really enjoyed That Summer in Sicily — which was so much more than I expected!
In May and June I read a series of books in German, no use going into details here. But there is one book I’d like to recommend to you and anybody who enjoys reading in Italian: Maurizio de Giovanni: Il resto de la settimana. It is a novel set in a bar in the historic centre of Naples, about the napoletani and their love for their soccer club SSC Napoli (this year’s champion, by the way), told in a series of different episodes. And even if you are not a great soccer fan, you will like this book, because it is full of loveable characters and emotional moments. In the end, it’s all about passion – la passione.
Author
Thank you for this! I just discovered Maurizio de Giovanni’s books, but haven’t read any yet. Rather, I bought an English translation of his Winter Swallows, thinking I’ll track down the earlier ones in Italian if I like it. It’s still in my unread book stack. I’ll see if our library has a copy of the one you recommend.
My only new read this month is Open Water (Caleb Azumah Nelson), recommended by your good self. I’m near the end and had to put it down for a bit to let myself absorb. I won’t talk about the story as I think you’ll do that next month but oh! how he writes about summer when you’re young and greedy, greedy for every day and every night to the point of exhaustion.
The rest has all been lazy rereading. I’m waiting for a couple of European history books to come from the library so maybe am subconsciously trying not to veer off on another path before they get to me. I’m fifth in line for the first one (revolutions 1848/9) so the chances of avoiding another rabbit hole in the meantime are slim.
I liked your pairing recommendations for The Book of Goose, I should add it to my list. How great it was to read Ferrante for the first time. And I don’t remember when I hadn’t yet read Lives of Girls and Women…it was published in ’71 so it probably reached our local library a couple of years later 🙂 I was definitely in the ‘girl’ versus ‘woman ‘category in any case.
Author
Isn’t Open Water a beautiful book? I’m wishing I had my own copy to go back through for all the music allusions, recommendations.
My mom was an inveterate CBC Morningside listener, and I’m sure that’s where she discovered Alice Munro’s work. I remember her pressing Dance of the Happy Shades on me, perhaps when I was still in high school. . . I do think you’ll appreciate The Book of Goose. . . but perhaps after your European history 😉
I’ve read two on your list so far . I really enjoyed A Town Called Solace & found the Northern Canada setting very interesting . I heard Mary Lawson being interviewed on BBC radio & I think she said she based the cat character on her sister’s cat . The Ann Cleeves was good too but I made the mistake of reading the second one immediately & it seemed too similar . So I’ll wait a while for the third . I’ve read & enjoyed Raynor Winn’s first two books & have the third waiting on my pile . I’ve walked stretches of the Welsh & Cornwall coastal paths but I’m more familiar with Scotland . I do worry about Moth . I read some of the Quirke books years ago in the Benjamin Black days & must get back to them .
At the moment books are put aside . I have a pile of my dad’s diaries beginning in 1926 when he was 18 years old & living in the Scottish Borders . I should have got to them sooner but they are small books with small writing , sometimes in pencil . Not easy , but when I manage to decipher them , quite fascinating . I’m learning a lot more about him & his life as a young man .
Author
Oh, that’s a good bit of information — I wouldn’t first have thought of the cat as a “character” that could be based on a specific cat, but of course it is! And of course it would need as much careful observation as a human character to fit as credibly into the narrative as that one. Thanks for that!
Yes, Moth’s condition is worrisome, and reading through, I kept having to remind myself to guard against magical thinking — after all, it’s non-fiction. . . . Happy ending not guaranteed.
I’m so envious and impressed that you have your father’s diaries from almost 100 years ago. What a treasure! Are you transcribing them as you go (into a Word doc, for example, or even just into easier handwriting? Or just reading for yourself. I can imagine a pell-mell of emotions as you turn the pages, depending on how much he anticipated other eyes on his words. . .
Not transcribing but trying to précis as I go , to pass on to others in the family – picking out the more interesting stuff . It’s rather strange when he addresses me , the reader , coming along many years later & he’s wondering who I will be . We are using old maps to track his travels in the area & trying to put names to faces using his old photos . It can be quite emotionally tiring at times but worth it .
Aw,Wendy,this is utterly fascinating!
D.
Thanks D . It’s a slow business . I keep having to rest my poor eyes !
W
Darn it! Now I want to read The Salt Path and three others you mentioned.
I share your enthusiasm for April in Spain, and enjoyed your description very much.
Sunny regards, Deborah
Author
The Salt Path is the most compelling of her books — I happily give it as a gift.
Sunny regards back to you as well — although perhaps you and your PNW garden would prefer Rainy Regards! Doesn’t work as convincingly as a salutation, but I scan the weather forecast hopefully each morning and rain is never to be seen. . .
I have to check all your books,but it will take some time,so:
Loved J. Banville’s The Snow and his writing,I’m sure I’ll like Detective Quirke.
Something about Mary Lawson’s A Town Called Solace rings a bell to me,maybe it’s on my list or even I have this book,have to investigate….
Ann Cleeves is one of my favourite mystery writers,I’ve read both Matthew Venn books and am looking forward to the third one,although I prefer Shetland and Vera, so far.
I’ll bookmark the first three from your June list
I’ve read very little during June-it was all about a little travel,family time and work
Though,I’ve liked Amanda Montell’s Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism .It is not only about cults and religious sects,but about insidery language of fitness clubs (like SoulCycle),MLM and everyday life. I think you’ll like it!
My third Annie Ernaux’ book was tiny A Girl’s Story,where she was revisiting her young age,frankly and fearless,after shame she considered for years
Celeste Ng’s Our Missing Hearts is a kind of dystopian story about the boy,Bird,who lives with his father,and tries to find his mother,who has left him( to save him and his father but Bird didn’t know this ). Sad,thought-provoking….
Henning Mankell’s The Firewall is an excellent Inspector Kurt Wallander mystery-I like Mankell a lot, and this one is utterly good
Peter May’s The Lockdown is a very noir dystopian ( lethal epidemic in London) mystery he has written in 2005,but it was rejected as unrealistic. Well,now it was not (but it is very dark)
I’ve liked James Cleary’ Atomic Habits,too
Dottoressa
Author
This is your idea of “reading very little during June”? Hah!
I’m sure you will like Detective Quirke also — and his marvellous wife! I’ve only just met her, but now I want to know her better.
Must get back to Annie Ernaux — a tiny book would be good. A Girl’s Story, noted! 😉
Anne Cleeves is exactly the kind of writer you want in this situation.
I have read a number of quite satisfying books over the post month. The first read was The Paris Daughter by Kristen Harmel. I admit I am a sucker for any novel with the word “Paris” in it. Set in WWII, it is the tale of two women, mothers, in occupied France and the lengths they go to to protect their children.
The next book read Small Mercies, by Dennis Lehane. Honestly, I did find it quite gritty and violent, brutal at times. I would not watch if a film version were to be made. It takes place in the early 1970’s in the South side of Boston just as bussing was being instigated as a way of desegregating the school system. Themes of racial hatred, corruption as well as family loyalties are explored. As dark as it is, I saw comparisons with the division and hatred I see today. Not so different, unfortunately. In spite of the dark themes the writing really engages you. Then I read a book my neighbor had recently purchased and was kind enough to pass on to me. This is Happiness, Niall Williams, an Irish writer. Set in the 1950’s in rural Ireland, this is is a coming of age novel. 17 year old Noel Crowe is sent to live with his grandparents on the family farm. They are joined by a lodger, Chris, a somewhat mysterious middle aged man allegedly there to help with bringing electricity to this remote area. Beautifully and even lyrically written, I found myself rereading sentences, paragraphs they were so lovely. Highly recommended.
My next book was The Matchmakers Gift, by Lynda Cohen Loigman. Set in the period from the 1920’s until 1994, it tells a tale of a young women who has an uncanny ability to make romantic matches and the trouble this causes her, then later we meet her granddaughter who also seems to have this ability. Some stretching of the imagination but an enjoyable read. It was a selection of one of my book clubs. Then, I’m back in rural Ireland, this time with The Queen of Dirt Island, by Donal Ryan, another Irish writer. The tale of four generations of strong women as they deal with death, birth, love, betrayal and whatever else life throws at them. Excellent. Finally a book I seem to have overlooked for years. I have read Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton books and their spinoffs and really enjoyed them, but I seemed to have missed an early work, Abide with Me. I saw it on the shelf on my last rip to the library and checked it out. A young minister coming to grips with his wife’s untimely death, trying to raise his two young daughters, one who seems to be having problems and ultimately, his relationship with God. Perhaps 17years ago the seemingly religious theme was not appealing. Reading it now I could not put it down and found it life affirming.
Author
Thanks for this, Darby! Many reading possibilities here — you were busy!
Yours is the second review I’ve read recently that highly recommends This Is Happiness. Putting it in on my list now, thank you!
And your last comment — about Lucy Barton’s Abide with Me (I haven’t read it, only read her Lucy Barton books) — it’s so interesting the way we read the same book so differently at different stages of life.
It’s not often I find that I’ve read something before you but I enjoyed many books by Ann Cleeves, including The Heron’s Call, during the lockdowns of 2021/22. She is a very clear and crisp story teller and paints fine character portraits. This month I’ve read Australian comic Judith Lucy’s memoir Turns Out, I’m Fine for my book group. I’d probably not have read this book otherwise but it was a fascinating account of the life of a now 50-something, woman who was raised by adoptive parents in Western Australia. Judith writes frankly about her career in comedy, television and podcasting, her many unsuccessful relationships with men, and her struggle to find meaning and contentment as an older, single woman. It’s always thought-provoking to read about lives so different from my own. Another “different” book I’m currently half-way through is Sayaka Murata’s Convenience Store Woman. Set in Japan, wryly amusing and another very different life. So far, I’m enjoying it and it’s a very easy read.
Author
“It’s always thought-provoking to read about lives so different from my own.” Yes! And the books you cite promise to be good examples of that. I see our library has a few copies of Convenience Store Woman available. . .
So glad you dug into The Book of Goose. If the library has Birnam Wood by Eleanor Catton, you could spend a few days riveted by the surprising lit fic eco-thriller. It differs greatly from The Luminaries and leaves lots of room for thinking about identity and motive. It was perfect for the summer.
Author
I’m already in the library line-up for a copy of Birnam Wood — curious about the Macbeth reference. And much as I enjoyed The Luminaries (although the ending, so ephemeral, after all that effort on a reader’s part! 😉 . . . I’m relieved to see that Birnam Wood is considerably lighter!
A suggestion: Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld. Although the f-buddy part in the beginning of the novel made me cringe, the rest of the book is very well written. It is the first novel that I have read with the pandemic issues written into it. Insecure woman, who is a comedy writer for the equivalent of SNL, falls in love with pop star (sounds very chick lit but the writing is excellent) and romance ensues. Also: https://www.nytimes.com/2023/06/23/books/review/new-romance-books.html. Olivia Waite’s reviews in the New York Times of romance novels are so well written that you want to read the novels, but unfortunately the couple of novels I have tried did not live up to her delicious prose.
Author
Thanks, Mary! The library line-up for this one is huge, but I’m making a note. And I’m not an NYT subscriber, but I’m going to see if I can find an e.g. of Waite’s reviews.
Some great non fiction suggestions here, I’ve read all the fiction! Have you read the earlier Quirke books that Banville wrote under the name Benjamin Black? He used to think that crime fiction was a lesser form so wrote his literary novels under his own name and Quirke under BB. He has been persuaded otherwise! My elderly relatives in Ireland tell me that he captures perfectly the atmosphere of the late 1950s, early 60’s in Dublin.
that genre we really enjoy Ellie Griffiths and Donna Leon., in fact I realise that it’s crime fiction that it rooted in a very specific geographical locality that captivates me. During the pandemic it was almost a way of travelling. Now when I go on holiday I try to read some crime fiction set in my destination. Can sometimes be a great way of finding good cafés!
Author
I haven’t read the earlier Quirke books, but I do mention his pseudonym in the entry above.
Like you, most of the mystery/crime series I read appeal to me in part for the armchair travel. And not only good cafés — For a visit this fall, I’ve actually booked a couple of nights in a hotel where Peter Robinson’s Inspector Banks stayed — I’ll be curious to find out if they know that reference at the hotel.
In fact, only one of the books in this post is non-fiction (Raynor Winn’s memoir Landlines). Have you read Scary Monsters? I’d be curious to know what another reader thought of it.
It is so rare that I’ve read anything before you, especially in the realm of detective and mystery. I haven’t read this Quirke book, but loved the first few in the series, and then lost touch, perhaps waiting for the next volume to be published I lost the thread. The same with Matthew Venn, I read the first before the second was out. Now I must go look them up. I liked Matthew very much, but Shetland remains my favorite of the series. I haven’t quite gotten in the groove of Vera (yet). No mysteries for me in June (or July, now almost gone). I’ve been reading a few things that I suppose that are outside my more recent purview, but so be it. Several others of your books have been added to my list now, although the Book of Goose was already there and now moving upward. I read The Lives of Girls and Women in college, almost half a century ago now. I wonder how my perspective has changed over the decades, perhaps worth a revisit.