Thanks to people’s recommendations, I’ve read a lot of terrific recent fiction this year, including Hamnet, All the Light We Cannot See, and The Book Thief. Those, I think, are world-class novels, and I’ve recommended the first two here. (I haven’t written about the last one yet, but it shouldn’t be missed.)
Last night, I finished this one, also recommended by a friend, and I finished it in tears. It’s ineffably absorbing, sad, joyful, and beautiful all at once. It was released in 2006 and became an international bestseller. It’s a somewhat brainy (but never boring!) novel about life, philosophy, and character, so readers here should enjoy it. The plot is also imaginative; I’ll never figure out how novelists can conjure up such an ingenious story out of thin air.
(Click on the screenshot to go to the Amazon page—it’s only nine bucks in paperback.)
I won’t give away the ending, which ties the whole book together, but it should leave you in tears as well. It’s the story of two erudite people: a 12-year-old girl named Paloma who lives in a fancy apartment in Paris with her wealthy family, and the building’s impecunious concierge, the 54-year-old Renée. Ignored by all the residents because of her lowly job, Renée is nevertheless a thoughtful autodidact and knows a great deal about philosophy, literature, and music. Paloma is also fiercely smart and thoughtful—way advanced for her age. Like Renée, Paloma, who doesn’t much care for her family, lives in isolation, preferring to be alone with her thoughts.
The chapters alternate between the narration of Renée, whose husband has died and who has but one friend, and the writings of the cynical Paloma, who is preparing to kill herself on her 13th birthday and is summarizing her thoughts and philosophy in two works, “Journal of the Movement of the World” and “Profound Thoughts”. The language used by both characters is gorgeous, and the thoughts are indeed often profound.
The quotidian life of these women and the other apartment-dwellers is shaken up when a wealthy and retired Japanese man, Kakuro Ozu, moves into the building and immediately recognizes the perceptiveness of both women. He makes friends with them and leads them to befriend each other, opening up new perspectives for all three.
That’s all I’ll say, as the plot comes together in the last chapter in a way that will break your heart. A novel doesn’t often bring me to tears, but this one not only did that, but also kept me up half the night thinking about it. I recommend it very highly.
So that’s one for you (and read The Book Thief, too). What books—fiction or nonfiction—have you enjoyed lately?
The Elegance of the Hedgehog was adapted into the film Le hérisson (2009), which was traslated into English as “The hedgehog”.
Jerry, i can’t figure out how to make a comment, so I’ll just dump
this into a reply (apologies in advance): you’ve written often and
convincingly about UM’s academic integrity. But what do you think
about this:
“University of Michigan is fabricating grades for students of
striking instructors, emails show”
Here’s the URL:
https://www.metrotimes.com/news/university-of-michigan-is-fabricating-grades-for-students-of-striking-instructors-emails-show-33190171
I have ordered it.
I want to thank the posters here, who have led me to some really great books. I have, on a couple of occasions, finished a wonderful book that was first recommended here, and experienced the unique joy of learning that the author has written several more.
Just finished Fatherland, a nonfiction work by Burkhard Bilger. Thought it was a terrific read. Bilger’s maternal grandfather was a Nazi official, assigned to oversee the Germanification of Alsace, via education, after the German occupation, and intended unification with the Reich. The book is both memoir and assiduous detective work into how the grandfather ended up, without desire, where he did and how he tried to behave humanely in an impossible situation. This synopsis doesn’t do the book justice.
I love this novel. Read it twice, once loaned by a friend, then bought my own copy. Brilliant.
That sounds like a great book and I have just requested it from my local library.
A suggestion from me would Moloka’i by Alan Brennert, a story of a young girl growing up in Honolulu in the 1890s who is exiled to the leper colony on Moloka’i. It is fiction but is based on actual events. I found it extremely moving and highly recommend it.
Robert Bailey’s The Professor is the first in a series; I think it is excellent, but I liked his subsequent “Between Black and White” even better.
I have to say, I found Hamnet disappointing. Never naming Shakespeare at first seemed an interesting narrative ploy but after awhile it got cloying and at times it trick read like something O’Farrell was rather desperate to avoid. I grew to dislike the near perfection of Agnes in her witchiness wisdom, too. It is well written, but the characters have the qualities you find in a soap opera. YMMV.
I’ve not read it (probably I should have done, before commenting), but nowhere have I seen the debt that Farrell must owe to James Joyce, whose alter ego Stephen Dedalus set out his (or, rather, Joyce’s) version of the Hamlet/Hamnet connection in the “Scylla and Charybdis” chapter of “Ulysses”.
Anthony Burgess’ Nothing Like the Sun is devoted to the possibilities of Shakespeare’s love life, and a good read.
I’m currently reading Colonialism, a Moral Reckoning by Nigel Biggar. He finds the British have much to be proud of, as well as much to be ashamed of, in their imperial days. As empires go, the British was one of the more enlightened, but I think he tends to be just a little too forgiving. He has been castigated for trying to analyse the subject at all, rather than assuming the position of all right (left?) thinking Grauniad readers and condemning the whole enterprise. It’s a thoughtful book with some excellent insights. I’d recommend it if you have an open mind and are willing to examine both sides. If nothing else, it shows that ethicists working in a department of theology can be useful for something! An example:
Nice insight.
From a moral viewpoint I see no difference between Britain’s colonial activities and those of any other nation. Virtually every country with the resources was looking to build an ermpire. Britain was just the most successful. Easy access to coal and wood, familiarity with and history of seafaring, and the wealth generated by the industrial revolution led to huge naval supremacy. That enabled the biggest empire of all time. Everybody else would have done it if they could.
For a different take, I can recommend Empire by Nial Ferguson. Anyone familiar with his writings won’t be surprised that he’s more positive about the British Empire and what came from it.
Actually, I can recommend any of Ferguson’s books. The breadth and depth of his historical scholarship is mind blowing.
My favorite fiction genre is science fiction, since I was about 8. The most recent new SF that I’ve read is A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine. I’ve rate it as very good, but it wouldn’t make my short list of bests. It is a story about a newly appointed ambassador from a small independent society that neighbors a huge, very old empire. She is sent to the empire to replace a recently deceased ambassador. Of course there are mysteries, intrigues and plots. The culture of the empire is rich and deep. Poetry permeates everything from ordinary discourse to formal affairs. A person who can’t compose a witty response with multiple possible meanings and in a proper form is considered uncivilized, and all other cultures are barbarians.
I’m currently reading the sequel, which so far holds up to the first book.
But I also recently reread an old favorite, the novella The Mountains Of Mourning, by Lois McMaster Bujold. She’s good, really good, and this may be her best. I think even people who are not fans of SF would find this story worth reading. It’s heartbreaking and grim, but some hope for the future. The story takes place in a society that is in a transition from a low tech feudalism, to a high tech, space faring major military power. They have fleets of starships but still have what amounts to peasants living in conditions little different from peasants in 15th century Europe. In this setting the young son of a Count is sent to administer justice in the matter of a possible murder in a small village in their district. The victim is a baby. It is common in this society for babies with any kind of birth defects to be killed, though some leaders (the nobility) are hoping to change such practices. Due to their harsh history, the culture is one that shows no mercy for physical weakness, deformity or disability. The son sent to figure out the truth of the matter, was the baby murdered because it had a deformity, and administer justice, is seriously deformed himself.
I’m also a sci-fi fan since I first started reading, and the genre is so huge, I find a new author every time I take notice (I usually watch sci fi nowadays rather than read). You ever read Zindell’s “Neverness” series? That is some epic shit of grand proportions.
Speaking of how huge the genre is, I’ve never heard of Zindell or the Neverness series. I’ll definitely check it out though.
Whee are all the suggestions?I have a few here but usually these threads get a LOT of comments with suggestions. It is dispiriting!
I appreciate you taking the time to write about the latest novels you’ve read and recommend so thoughtfully. It’s exciting to find books that move us deeply. I agree that “Hamnet,” “All the Light We Cannot See,” and “The Book Thief” are all examples of world-class literature. Undoubtedly, I am not the only reader who has been profoundly affected by these masterpieces of literature.
I was interested in the book after reading your description of its “ineffably absorbing, sad, joyful, and beautiful” nature. It’s intriguing to learn that a novel that was published in 2006 and became a global success is still able to attract people today.
I recently read both “Gang of One” by Fan Shen, and “The Elimination: A Survivor of the Khmer Rouge…” By Rithy Panh.
Both are well written and illuminating, but incredibly depressing. I do think western advocates of socialism should read both of them.
Most of the fiction I have read lately is by authors already mentioned here.
I must once again praise Patrick O’Brian’s 20.5-volume Aubrey Maturin series as the greatest historical, escapist fiction ever. Jane Austen meets C.S. Forester but with more sex, booze, and blood.
The last novel that really knocked my socks off was Preparation for the Next Life by Atticus Lish. Currently reading David Grann’s Killers of the Flower Moon, a nearly incredible account of the Osage Nation murders of the 1920’s and the concurrent rise of Hoover’s FBI.
There’s a good deal of history to be painlessly learned in the Aubrey/Maturin books. Another set of historical fictions that will inform you along the way are the Flashman books by George MacDonald Fraser. They aren’t the trash they might appear, and are a lot of fun. You only live once, so enjoy a guilty pleasure!
I’m just beginning “The Wager”. I really liked “Killers of the Flower Moon” and “The Lost City of Z”, so hoping this is as good.
“The Wager” is about a British vessel during the mid-1700s. I am just beginning this book and the descriptions of the conditions on the ship are graphic and harrowing. So far I’m engaged, but the drama hasn’t begun yet.
I can suggest the last two books I’ve enjoyed reading, although they may somewhat be considered mainstream and probably you already have read them. “Blindness” by José Saramago, deals a lot with the worst (and the best) of the human nature. However, is very graphical and it is written in typical Saramago experimental form, which is not easy to follow. I read it in Portuguese though, so can’t evaluate the quality of other translations.
“The Feather Thief” by Kirk Wallace Johnson. This one is amazing! It’s a riveting story about true events and is so well narrated that I sometimes felt like being in the cinema watching a movie. It tells the story of Edwin Rist, a young talented musician that got lost in the dark corners of fly-fishing. It also has a nice historical context of fly-fishing and the use of feathers through the Victorian times. The first chapter is about Alfred Russel Wallace.
I’m afraid I’ve gone off modern fiction. A lot of it smacks too much of the creative writing course or of exhaustive online research; and too many authors seem frightened to use their imaginations in case they’re accused of cultural appropriation or worse.
And therefore recently I’ve been doing a lot of re-reading. I’m now at an age when I often can’t remember reading many of the books on my shelf in the first place, so when I pick one up again it comes as a surprise. Given Martin Amis’s recent sad demise, I thought I’d give some of his old novels a try, and I couldn’t get on with them at all – which must say more about me than about Amis.
The best books I have (re)-read recently are both books about the natural world, and 50-plus year old ones at that: ‘The Peregrine’, by RA Baker, and ‘The Living Mountain’, by Nan Shepherd. I’d trade in most of the novels on my shelf just to keep these two.
It’s more than just what you (correctly) indicated in your first paragraph. There is also plenty of woke whining, mindless virtue-signaling, and the fictional equivalent of changing bird names. Unless I have some previous history with the author, I pretty much won’t pick up anything written after 2012, and will look two or three times at the reviews before trying anything from the five years before that.
All my current non-fiction reading is birds or birdwatching related, so I won’t bore everyone with it. Current novel is Robert Holdstock’s Mythago Wood. A few weeks ago, in a post on this website, I very highly recommended Heinlein’s Job: A Comedy of Justice, which is the best fictional hatchet job on religion I’ve read since James Morrow (Towing Jehovah, Blameless in Abaddon, Only Begotten Daughter, Bible Stories for Adults). Glorious!
Anthony Trollope’s The Way We Live Now. I’m aware that Victorian novels are not everyone’s cuppa, and even among that subset Anthony Trollope is not widely read. (The only person I ever heard mention Trollope on this site was Ken Kukec, and I think he was just showing off.) I was weaned on them, and yet had never even heard of this book until recently. I‘d read Trollope’s’ Barchester Towers and The Warden years ago without being much impressed. But this book is masterful: its sweep, subplots, and characterizations remind me of nothing so much as Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina—no small praise—though with more of a bite. It’s a long one—over 700 pages—but I highly recommend it.
Smile when you say that, pardner. 🙂
Trollope’s two great novel series are best read entire, and in order. Of the Barchester Chronicles and the Palliser series, I have to say I enjoy the latter more. Who could not love Lady Glencora? Having read those I made it my business to obtain his entire oeuvre and have enjoyed most of it. You have to remember that you are, as with Dickens, not reading high literature, but the page-turners of the Victorian era. If you want just one more to go with The Way We Live Now, I’d recommend He Knew He Was Right—a surprisingly modern look at a failing marriage.
Hello everyone,
I’m a long time lurker/reader of this blog, so I hope jumping in to post is okay.
For science fiction I would recommend the novel “Children of Time” by Adrian Tchaikovsky which is about a terraformed planet where a species of jumping spider evolves sentience. Best example of speculative biology and evolution in science fiction that I know which I think would appeal to these forum members.
For non-fiction I would recommend “The Golden Ticket: A Life in College Admissions Essays” by Irena Smith. It’s a memoir about the author’s life as a Stanford admissions officer, later a private college consultant, and also a parent of a child with autism, with social commentary about the frenzy around college admissions in the US. It’s quite funny and literate. In disclosure I do know the author personally, but it is one of the sharpest and most engaging books I’ve read in the past few years.
I’m currently reading “Fleishman Is In Trouble” by Taffy Brodesser-Akner. I’m only less than a quarter in and I love it. I also just finished a 1969 novel called “The Spook Who Sat By The Door.” It’s billed as “the first black nationalist novel.” The title refers to the two different meanings of the word spook: a (derogatory?) term for African-American, and a general slang for spy. I enjoyed this book. So much has changed, yet so much as remained the same since 1969.
FSR, science fiction doesn’t get much respect in general, but it’s actually my favorite genre. Two older novels I highly recommend are “The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous Utopia” by the legendary Ursula K LeGuin and “The Iron Dream” by Norman Spinrad. “Dispossessed” is a masterpiece. It is about physics, international relations, interplanetary relations, capitalism, anarchism, philosophy, conspicuous consumption, and sex-based equality. However, there is a minor subplot that LeGuin does not handle well, and while that’s disappointing, the rest of the novel is magnificent. “Iron Dream” poses the question “What if the Holocaust had only been a bad science-fiction novel instead of an actual event?” It was banned in Germany (obviously) and in Britain. It is long out of print, but a used-book shop or a library may have it. “Dispossessed” is still in print.
The Weight of Ink by Rachel Kadish. You may know it because I heard about it on this site. Takes place during and after the Inquisition about a blind rabbi and his young female scribe, and also near present-day about the historians who discover their writings. Really beautifully written. Great characters. Complex relationships. Interesting historically. A bit long at 560 pgs and I found it challenging at first because I didn’t know much about the period so I had to look things up, but well worth the effort. Brilliantly woven story lines.
“The Narrow Road to the Deep North”
One hell of a novel, about halfway through. Amy, Amie, Amour
Before this (I’m a glutton for literary punishment it seems) I reread Wiesel’s “Night.” Tough reading, that. Reread and remembered the forgotten horrors…what a world. Humans forget and tragedy ensues…what to do?
I just finished Colson Whitehead’s “Harlem Shuffle”. It’s a more gentle history/study of humans than the previous two (“Nickel Boys” and “Undergrounds Railroad”). I wouldn’t call it Great Fiction, but he is a fabulous storyteller. The tale unfolds like it’s alive – funny, matter-of-fact, sympathetic, angry. I think he falls within the tradition of Great American Storytellers.
Another excellent storyteller is Mohsin Hamid: “The Reluctant Fundamentalist”, “Exit West”. I find it almost impossible to stop reading his books when I start one.
I put a hold on the Hedgehog one at the library.
I read some good non fiction lately:
– The Teachers by Alexandra Robbins. It follows three teachers in particular and has also lots of other essays and side stories. Fascinating insight into the profession.
– Con/Artist by Tony Tetro, the life story of famous con artist Tetro who made paintings and sold them off as from the masters. He was very good at it. Great story.
– In The mouth of the wolf by Katherine Corcoran, about a journalist in Mexico who was murdered, and corruption. Engrossing.
– We were once a family by Roxanna Asgarian. About the adoption system in the us, focusing on a really tragic case where the foster parents drove off a cliff with the wie adopted children inside.
For fiction, I really, really enjoyed Age of Vice by Deepti Kapoor. A novel about new India; crime … sweeping and engrossing as well.
Lately? well, my 5 favorite novels of all time are (I do re-read them) are: WAR AND PEACE, The CALL OF THE WILD, GONE WITH THE WIND, SOMETIMES A GREAT NOTION, and INFINITE JEST.
Not for everyone, but I do highly recommend them.
I recently read an excellent non-fiction book: War Diaries of Field Marshall Alanbrooke. Alanbrooke was the head of the British Armed Forces (Chief of The Imperial General Staff) for the vast majority of the 2nd World War. He was recognised as an outstanding individual, even among the American top brass. Bernard Montgomery, who hated giving anyone credit, said he was the best soldier of any combatant in WW2. Eisenhower once said there were only two other generals up to the task of Supreme Allied Commander – Marshall and Alanbrooke, yet very few people have even heard of him. This, I think, was largely down to his lack of ego – a very unusual quality in a general.
This book is his annotated wartime diary which he wrote every day so his wife could keep informed about his experiences. He was a gentle man who hated war and was committed to his family, and this is evident throughout. He was also an avid birdwatcher and photographer and is forever mentioning the birds he has photographed at home, or those he has spotted as he travels to Egypt or Russia. At one point mentions he spent £1500 on the 45 volumes of Gould’s Birds (God knows what that would equate to today!) These reflections are often in the same day’s entry as his remarks about the world changing events he was directing. It’s this combination of personal and historic that is so captivating and absorbing, and I found it unputdownable.
Alanbrooke was responsible for some of the most stressful commands in the war. He played a leading role (many say the decisive role) in managing the safe retreat of British troops to Dunkirk and talks of bursting in to tears when he was ordered to leave them to return to London. He was then placed in charge of defending the British Isles from German invasion. This was in late summer 1940 when the Nazis were building up invasion forces and an invasion looked certain. Several times he mentions that intelligence points to an invasion today or tomorrow, and interspersed with these momentous events are his reflections on the stress and responsibility weighing on his shoulders.
Another fascinating feature of the diary are his dealings and meetings with the great figures in the war, and he reports on these very honestly. He details the meetings and summits in the US, USSR, Middle East etc, and gives opinions on Roosevelt, Eisenhower, Marshall, King and others in the US. There are personal reflections on working and banqueting with Stalin (he weighed him up as cold and evil, but very shrewd and intelligent), Charles de Gaulle (who he clearly despised) and working closely with Churchill for years. He holds no punches talking of Churchill’s many faults, but also recognises his greatness.
All in all, I thought it was a wonderful study in leadership and a fascinating insight in to the huge events and personalities directing the war. I came away with a huge admiration and respect for a man who handled responsibilities that would crush 99.9% of us. It’s a brilliant book.
I just finished the latest book by one of my favorite authors, RIchard Powers. I might describe his books as science-fictiony. They are all based on cutting-edge-or-beyond science, have a real story to tell, and are beautifully written. The one I just finished is called “Bewilderment” and is inspired by the idea that a brain can be trained to imitate thoughts of someone else, in this case, a boy’s deceased mother. The book is also a beautiful description of nature, a plea for saving the planet and all the wonderful life on it, and a father-son relationship. Aside from that, Powers’s best book, for me, Is “The time of our singing.” The science here is the idea of a wormhole, tho Powers never uses that word. It’s about a family where the father is an emigrant German Jew and the mother is black and the whole family is as musical as can be imagined. It’s a beautiful book.
I borrowed “The Elegance of the Hedgehog” from the library last night. I was surprised to find that it’s only 320 pages! That’s a mere short story by PCC’s standards!