Books Read in December, 2024

After the, ahem, rather minimalist book postings of August through the end of December, I’m back to scribbling in my handwritten reading Journal quick notes about what I read. So that now I have a bit more to offer you when I transcribe those scribbles here. I began the month finishing a French novel I’d begun in Paris, then moved on to an Italian giallo (crime novel) I’d started in Rome, and then happily relaxed into a succession of English books — some literary fiction, a couple of mystery novels, and a British-French journalist’s memoir about the 20 years he’s lived in Paris.

Multi-tasking: I’m trying to recover my daily sketching habit, but I really needed to get this book post done. . . so a quick-and-dirty sketch of the book stack on my messy desktop will have to do . . .

Before I share my journal notes, this reminder about these book posts: 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). Notes to myself, that is, so that I can remember a book and remember my response to it, rather than any attempt at a more polished, edited review.

I’ve used regular font for any additions to my journal notes and included references to any posts from my Instagram Reading account.

76. Tata. Valerie Perrin. Domestic fiction; Women’s lives; Family history/French history. Read in French; English translation coming soon.

Not yet translated into English, but I’m sure this will happen soon, given the popularity of Valérie Perrin’s earlier works (I wrote a bit about two of these here and here.)

A film-maker, Agnès, late 30s mother (daughter in late teens), recently divorced from actor husband whom she still loves, is notified by police that her aunt, Colette, has just died and Agnès is asked about her wishes for a funeral. A shock, because the aunt died and was buried several years earlier.

As she begins to unravel the mystery — the coroner and police obviously playing a role here — she finds that the seemingly simple and uneventful life her single aunt was assumed to have lived belied a history of abuse and romance, friendship and sacrifice far beyond what the family could have imagined.

As Perrin did so well in her other novels, here again she weaves together a number of narratives, shuttling back and forth in time and place. Agnès reconnects with the friends of her childhood and adolescence, each of whom has a story and a part in the greater whole. She uncovers the mystery of who was really buried years ago, why and how her aunt could still have been alive without her knowing for the years since. And she learns more about her parents’ past, these two musicians whose lives involved so much travel — and apparently, held a few big secrets.

Interesting to see, again, how great a distance — in social, economic, and cultural terms — was traveled in the post-war decades, especially in rural areas.

77. Pulvis et Ombra. Antonio Manzini. Italian giallo; Read in Italian; Police Procedural; Rocco Schiavone series; Set in Italy: Valle d’Aosta and Rome.

Title means “dust and shadow.” Rocco dealing with the aftermath of the murder of his close friend’s girlfriend — the gunman’s intended target having been Rocco; unfortunate young woman had been bunking at Rocco’s while he was away. . . Now Rocco is trying to find the man responsible and keep out of trouble his good friend who has gone AWOL, most certainly in pursuit and with a commitment to vengeance.

At the same time Rocco is also trying to solve two seemingly disparate murders, moving between Valle d’Aosta and Rome and navigating through and around corruption and betrayal.

Doesn’t seem to be an English translation available, but I believe the TV series has covered this over several episodes.

78. And Now She’s Gone. Rachel Howzell Hall. Crime/thriller. Private detective; Female protagonist; Domestic violence.

Passed on to me by Paul, who got it from the library. Compelling, convincing, many plot twists, characters built for movies, tbh. Two women whose backgrounds are veiled, identities shifting: one the protagonist, a private investigator; the other a woman who has disappeared and whose boyfriend claims to be worried about her welfare and wants her found.

Domestic violence; men who abuse and men who protect; women who need help, but also women who help or who are themselves perpetrators. This one filled the need for a distracting fast read — would be good transit/travel reading.

79. Intermezzo. Sally Rooney. Literary fiction; Domestic fiction; Psychological fiction; Coming-of-Age; Irish writer; Female writer; Set in Dublin.

Two brothers and their parallel relationships. Age and gender and relationships, but more about how and who and why we love, and the challenges of communicating what we think and feel — first to ourselves and then to others. Our concern about whether others will understand or approve of us and our choices. . . and the relationship with our parents, the way that continues to play out in our adult lives (Novel begins with the death of the brothers’ father, their primary caregiver, long separated from their mother).

Chess-playing younger brother, socially awkward, early 20s vs. lawyer brother, early 30s, with connection to academic world through his work but more importantly through his continuing relationship with an ex-girlfriend.

Secrets, past, liberation, redemption. Many will find stylistic challenges in the stream-of-consciousness, changing point-of-view prose. The rhythm of her sentences — so many long ones, then fragments, often also long. Modifying phrases which slow down but which also allow the concept or scene to blossom outward in our mind’s eye.

This is the first book of hers that I’ve read (I watched and loved the TV series interpretation of her Normal People). Read this Guardian review by Anthony Cummins to find out more about how it fits into the context of her other books (a departure, from what I understand) . . . and why he considers this “funny, tender tale of two grieving brothers and their messy love lives” to be “utterly perfect.”

80. Life Sentences. Billy O’Callaghan. Literary fiction; Historical fiction; Domestic fiction; 3-generational family narrative; Irish history; poverty.

Three generations of an impoverished family. Begins with Jer in 1920, mourning his sister, angry at the alcoholic brother-in-law who shortened her life and who is now taking Jer’s nephews and niece away to England with him, as well as Jer’s mother who will care for her bereaved grandchildren. Jer has served as a soldier, but after the “Great War,” comes home and struggles to raise his family and adjust to civilian life, to understand his lot in life.

The novel reaches back to the years after Ireland’s Great Famine when 16-year-old Nancy, the only surviving member of her family, leaves her small island for Ireland’s Mainland. . . where she will soon become Jer’s mother. Seduced by someone she imagines will lift her out of lonely servitude, she’s abandoned instead, a single unwed mother with the choice of the poorhouse or prostitution.

After moving back between intertwined narratives of Jer’s and Nancy’s lives, stories of her troubles, her resilience, the past gradually unfolded, the novel moves to the 1980s when Jer’s youngest child is dying in her old age, near to where she was raised.

Poverty, class, religion (influence of the Church in Ireland), shame, love, loss, hardship, and perhaps above all, resilience. Beautifully written. Life, Sentences Indeed!

Posted a little video — Instagram insists on calling it a “reel”– over here. Video includes my journal page with sketch of the book cover.

81. The Man Who Died Twice. Richard Osman. Murder mystery; Elderly protagonists; Thursday Murder Club series.

Second in Thursday Murder Club series — spoiled for me a bit because of what I already knew about some characters, having read #4 already (wrote a bit about that in this post, Scroll down to #71. And a bit about #1 in this post, Scroll to #60).

Diamonds, drug-dealing, betrayals, beautiful gardens of nasty criminals. We learn a few more surprising facts about Elizabeth; Ibrahim confronts his fears and gets out a bit more, then has to confront newly intensified fears (mortality; ageing); and MI5 join the local police in having to deal with the Coopers Chase Murder Club! A twisty plot, mistaken identities, budding romances.

Joyce shows her skills and develops new ones — the account she sets up on Instagram has some hilarious results as the “handle” she chooses unintentionally signals possibilites the reader recognizes long before Joyce’s daughter points out the meaning.

Instagram post here.

82. Impossible City: Paris in the 21st Century. Simon Kuper. Memoir; Life in Paris; Social/Cultural Analysis.

One of the books I chose on our annual Hager Books (a Vancouver independent bookstore) Christmas shopping-self-gifting trip. . . . Kuper is a British journalist who moved to Paris in the early 2000s for affordability (compared to London) and who ended up staying to raise his family there (and has now obtained French citizenship). Soccer dad whose three kids have now lived through Bataclan and other terrorist actions and threats but/and who are also fully integrated in their schools and neighbourhoods in ways Kuper knows he never will be. He brings an attentive and thoughtful journalist’s eye to his adopted city. Appreciative eyes that are nonetheless willing to expose some of its foibles and failings while celebrating its strengths.

He’s not afraid to draw back veils on cultural icons nor to expose some myths around the meritocracy of Paris’s tight circle of elite. He combines the access he enjoys to various aspects of French social culture as a father, neighbour, friend living in a multicultural city (with prevailing social codes on dress and comportment) with his journalist training and credentials. Solid research skills and a wealth of knowledge/familiarity.

Some disturbing revelations of sexual abuse including pedophilia among the elite — an open secret defended by a group of soixante-huitards (68-ers, those who rebelled against the social mores in the protests of 1968 — and who continued to insist for decades afterward that “It is forbidden to forbid,” and used that to justify their sexual proclivities, their exploitation of others). These have included public intellectuals, politicians, etc.

I would recommend this for anyone who loves Paris but would like a fuller picture of its 20th and 21st-century politics, society, and culture. As much as I am interested in Paris’s architecture, fashion, and best places to eat, I recommend this book for getting us into some more diverse arrondissements and even beyond those, to the banlieus (suburbs beyond Paris’s boundary-setting ring road).

83. The Anthropologists. Ayşegül Savaş. Literary fiction; Expat/immigrant life; Coming-of-Age; Domestic fiction.

In an unnamed city a young couple (they met at university, each from a different country, each speaking a different language) work to build a home and a life together, trying to discover, in their estrangement from family and the familiar, what that might involve. Asya, the woman, a freelance film documentarian working on a grant, narrates; she describes their search for a home to buy using the deposit their parents have helped them put together.

Truly, this is the narrative arc, and yes, it’s a relatively shallow one. One of my daughters said of another book recently: “Sorry, but I need a plot-driven novel, no matter how beautiful the writing is.” I hasten to add that she is a discerning reader and by far not the only one to feel this way. You might feel the same way and this might not be a book for you.

But within this framework, Asya describes their longing for a “home” or for a sense of belonging — she interrogates what that might constitute, makes a list of “elements with which [she] wanted to build a home” (a green velvet jacket a friend had insisted she buy; hers and Manu’s breakfast ritual; the stones ancestors placed at burial sites).

Asya also grapples with making friends, having a social network, and there are numerous sections throughout titled “Principles of kinship.” She and Manu struggle with being away from their families, feel guilt, sadness, estrangement — several times, she cites “the old fear of seeming a stranger to my family.” Missing her grandmother, she and Manu befriend and care for an elderly neighbour, Tereza.

Elegant and eloquent, and although the couple’s estrangement from their native countries, their focus on establishing their life in a new city, might seem to speak only to specific circumstances, there is so much in the novel that resonates more generally. The need to belong, the small ways we find joy, assert our connection to the world, the difficulties of communication, of determining authenticity. A small novel (with a gorgeous cover, notable book design), this is one I’m happy to own in hardcover.

I also liked very much her novel White on White a few years ago and wrote a bit about it here.

Sneaky candid photo of one of my favourite readers. He and his granddad had just come back from the library where he’d found a Diary of a Wimpy Kid title that he hadn’t yet read. . .

Okay, that’s a wrap on my December reading — and if I click “Publish” on this tonight, I’ll have it posted within the first week of January. Might be a record for me, and I’d love to try to repeat the feat a few times in 2025. Next bookpost here, though, will be my 2024 Reading List, and it usually takes me a few days to put that together, formatting, adding links, etc.

While I’m doing that, I’d love to find out what books you were reading over the last few weeks — or was it such a busy time you didn’t have time to read OR can’t remember anything from that blur?! Have you made a good start on 2025 reading? Do you have a TBR list you’re working on? Made any resolutions about reading for the year? I’ve never done that, but it could happen — reading more of a particular genre, or more books in translation, or books in a second language. More poetry, perhaps, or a new-to-you writer?

Really, any kind of book talk to start our conversation around books and reading in the new year. Which is rapidly becoming just “the year”; by the end of next week, it won’t even seem new anymore, am I right?

So please, comments below. I also love and very much appreciate our book chats.

I’d also like to thank all of you who have subscribed to my new Substack account. I’m still trying to figure out what I’m hoping to do over there, but I’m excited about all the possibilities. At first, the plan is to offer material there which is complementary or supplementary to the blog, but eventually I expect that there will be posts there that are completely separate. When I get to that stage, I will probably offer excerpts here and direct you to Substack if you’re interested in reading the rest. Not sure yet, but I do know that this community, this blog, is important to me, and I’d like to ensure continuity.

xo,

f

11 Comments

  1. MaureenC
    6 January 2025 / 12:12 am

    In December I tackled Alan Hollinghurst’s new novel Our Evenings, I say tackled as they are always bloody huge but worth it as his prose is invariably sublime. So in early December I lugged the hardback in my suitcase knowing I would have train rides from Malaga to Barcelona to Marseille and then subsequent airport sitting around. First fell in love with his work with the Line of Beauty, which is set in and around both the upper echelons of the Tory party in Thatcherite Britain and the gay sub culture of the time. I’ve avidly read all subsequent books.
    Was it worth the suitcase weight, absolutely yes.
    However I had one lingering concern. Though clearly Hollinghurst despises these people, it’s part of the warp and weft of English culture to believe that the lives, minds and emotions of the upper classes are more interesting than those of other people. Hence the national obsession with things like Downton Abbey in fiction and the doings of the Windsors and their acolytes in real life. Hollinghurst protagonists are often lower class folks who have been propelled into their world and so we experience these people through their eyes. However critical he may be they are still in the spotlight and however gloriously written I would love to see his forensic eye directed elsewhere.
    Other books read or reading – annual ‘re reading’ of Persuasion on audio book, a couple of Mick Heron’s from the magnificent Slough House series, the new Kathleen Jamie essays, currently having a go at Sophie Hénaff Pouillé Grillé/ the Awkward Squad in French and English as there is so much idiom.

    • fsprout
      Author
      7 January 2025 / 9:18 am

      Interesting — especially your second paragraph, because I’m trying to remember why I didn’t read Hollinghurst’s Line of Beauty when I was lucky enough to get a new hardcover copy from the library when it first came out (over a decade ago, am I right?). Might just have been that I’d been over ambitious in taking it home during a busy time (pre-retirement!), but I vaguely remember that something about the focus just didn’t connect at the time. Or just the daunting size. You make a compelling case for me to pick something of his up again. (although that TBR list is always already so long!)
      Love Mick Heron’s writing, Slough House series my favourites! Going to put Sophie Hénaff on my list, for sure.
      Thanks for a great contribution to this book chat!
      I would be curious to hear from anyone else who’s read Hollinghurst. (also, anyone who’s willing to lug a hardback around for those trains and planes is my kind of people 😉

  2. Elizabeth Ashby
    6 January 2025 / 1:58 am

    Happy New Year ! My younger daughter had a great idea for my Christmas present. She presented me with six books, wrapped in brown paper with a brief blurb written on the wrapping. The idea is that I unwrap one every two months and we both read my choice, and discuss together. Brilliant idea, and I’m sure I’ll come across authors I haven’t yet met. Elizabeth A

    • fsprout
      Author
      7 January 2025 / 9:21 am

      That is the most thoughtful gift I can imagine, honestly! A brilliant idea, so much thought in the execution, and the willingness to read along with you, to commit to book discussions through the year. Truly a gift that keeps on giving. Hope to hear back from here in future book comments about what you’ve been unwrapping 😉

  3. Dottoressa
    6 January 2025 / 6:54 am

    Looking forward to V. Perrin’s Tata,love her books, as well as to Simon’s Cooper’s Paris
    Sally Rooney’s (I’ve read all of her books so far,learning how the new generation feels,talks,writes….,and it is interesting) Intermezzo is my second read book of 2025. (First one is,I guess,the same as yours,J. Hallett’s The Examiner)
    Richard Osman is one of the authors  where I’m impatiently waiting for his next book 
    The Anthropologist is one of best books I’ve read during 2024
    Before NYT The 10  Best Books of 2024.was out ,I’ve heard Bil Nighy’s recommended Miranda July’s All Fours. Not my cup of tea,but she is Erica Jong of 2024.
    Dolly Alderton’s Good Material is also on this list,kind of rom-com: Andy,35,struggle when his girlfriend ends their relationship-I’ve enjoyed reading it,interesting how perspectives are different
    Continued with R. Thorogood’s Marlowe Murder Club mysteries,they were my December’s indulgences
    My TBR list is huge (thanks to you,as well) and I have no resolutions for 2025,just to read and enjoy,learn,widen my horizons…
    Dottoressa

    • fsprout
      Author
      7 January 2025 / 9:31 am

      Oh, now I know it will be a good year — You and I starting out with the same book and then your second being one I barely finished. So synchronized. A Parisian friend of mine just asked what I thought of All Fours (she was enjoying it but had heard of its detractors) and I had to say I haven’t read it.
      I agree with you about The Anthropologist — it sticks with you and I’ve been picking it up and dipping in again, just for the prose. (In some ways it reminds me of Sara Baume’s Seven Steeples, although the setting is very different. . .
      I don’t know this Marlowe Murder Club. . . I’m intrigued, always looking for indulgences!
      “read and enjoy, learn, widen my horizons” YES!! I’m with you!

  4. Wendy in No. California
    6 January 2025 / 7:39 pm

    I’m curious…when life gets particularly stressful, do you crave some lightweight reading, a less serious or intense book or perhaps reread a past favorite? Or do you look for something more serious or profound to completely immerse yourself in?
    Having moved house the week before Christmas, I just had to read what I had on hand amid the chaos. I ended up with Miss Benson’s Beetle by Rachel Joyce because the cover was bright and cheerful, realizing later that I had read it a few years ago and not particularly enjoyed it. I’ve kept going because I’m nearly halfway through it, but I think I should have gone for something more challenging to hold my attention.
    I’ve really enjoyed Richard Osman’s books and Robert Thorogood’s, too. I just wish they’d write faster!

    • fsprout
      Author
      7 January 2025 / 9:38 am

      A really good question, Wendy! I think I tend to go in one direction or the other, depending. But it always has to be well-written enough that I’m not going to be distracted and/or irritated by banal or sloppy prose, poorly researched plot, characters who aren’t credible.
      Often on a long plane or train ride, I’ll have a couple of books on my Kobo (e-reader) and if it happens that the lighter choice isn’t pulling me in deeply enough to shut out time and surroundings, I will turn instead to something much “chewier” even if (or probably because) I have to work harder to follow and to think. Exactly as you write, sometimes we need “something more challenging to hold [our] attention.
      Okay, another mention of Robert Thorogood’s writing. And if it’s good enough for you and Dottoressa, it better get on my TBR!

  5. Wendy in York
    7 January 2025 / 1:32 am

    I’ll look forward to Tata . You introduced me to VP with the Flowers one which I really enjoyed . Richard Osman books are a lovely light read with real humour . I approve of the cast list of the new film of his book , apart from Pierce Brosnan . Yes he’s gorgeous but he’s no Ron , too smooth . I would have preferred Brian Cox or Ray Winstone but nobody asked me . As I said on Sue’s book post , I’m currently reading Elizabeth Strout’s Amy & Isabelle but it’s very slow . I’ll finish it , perhaps it will pick up . Other than that I have a little book pile about the history of Ludlow , the old town where we spent Christmas . We loved it there & are extending our trip by learning more of its history .
    PS your grandsons jumper is very nice – your handiwork ?

    • fsprout
      Author
      7 January 2025 / 9:47 am

      I hadn’t heard about Pierce Brosnan being cast — hmmm, I hope he surprises us! Ron’s an important character, and Brosnan will have to stretch to get his ruddy roughness. I don’t know Brian Cox or Ray Winstone (is it just me or do their photos as Googled look very much alike?)
      I’m currently reading a book that parallels your book pile about Ludlow’s history — a memoir/French history book by a just-deceased journalist who wrote about his home in an old village in La France Profonde. But I’d better save that for next bookpost, when I’ve finished it. Meanwhile, enjoy the armchair travel.
      and no, the sweater is what you’d call a High Street purchase (Zara Kids, I think), and probably all synthetic. 🙄 🤷‍♀️

  6. Jane in Port Townsend
    7 January 2025 / 9:39 am

    Thoroughly enjoy the trouble you take on your blog. Many thanks!
    My recent reads that I’m sharing with others.

    The safekeep yael van der wouden, Dutch, post war return of refugees, guilt, found love.
    A stark story that brought tears. Debut novel shortlisted for Booker.

    Frozen River Ariel Lawhon. Historical fiction of real life of Martha Ballard, midwife who kept a diary, in 1770’s documenting births, deaths. Women’s place in society.
    Terrific writing and plot.

    Tell Me Everything Elizabeth Strout. I read everything she’s written. Clear, moving accounts of the human condition.

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