Sunday, 8 March 2020

The Women's Prize Longlist

The 2020 Women's Prize longlist has been announced! The annual literary award celebrating women writers has previously recognised the talents of so many gifted writers, including these past winners:


  • Tayari Jones - An American Marriage (2019)
  • Lionel Shriver - We Need to Talk About Kevin (2005)
  • Andrea Levy - Small Island (2004)

  • On 3 March 2020, the longlist for this year's Women's Prize was announced with 16 nominees. I have a stack of these books at hand, and a couple of others on reserve from my local library. I look forward to exploring these titles.

    The 2020 longlist is as follows:

    Djinn Patrol on the Purple Line by Deepa Anappara
    Deepa Anappara's debut novel is based on the high number of children who go missing in the slums of India. At the end of the purple metro line, nine year old Jai lives with his family. He becomes an amateur sleuth when his classmate goes missing, joining forces with two friends to investigate. As more children disappear, the three detectives may find these crimes lead too close to home. Written from the perspective of Jai, this sounds like a really interesting novel.


    Fleishman is in Trouble by Taffy Brodesser-Akner
    Fleishman has been on my list to read for months and this nomination serves as another reminder to hurry up and read! Toby Fleishman is recently separated after a thirteen year marriage and is now keen to play the field. But when his ex-wife disappears he needs to reflect on his role in the marriage.




    Queenie by Candice Carty-Williams
    Queenie Jenkins is a 25 year old Jamaican-British woman living in London, straddling two cultures. She is at a low point, hating her job, at the end of a relationship, and struggling to reconcile her past. One bad choice after another leads Queenie on a quest for love, as she searches for meaning in the modern world.



    Dominicana by Angie Cruz
    On New Year's Day 1965, 15 year old Ana Canción marries and becomes Ana Ruiz, and leaves her home in the Dominican Republic to move to a cold New York City. She knows no one other than her husband, Juan, and knows there is no love in this marriage, but Juan is the pathway for her whole family to seek a new life in America. When political unrest back home forces Juan to return leaving Ana behind, she has a glimpse of other possibilities. But every choice involves a betrayal - of her mother or her husband.

    Actress by Anne Enright
    Norah is the daughter of actress Katherine O'Dell, the esteemed star of the Irish stage. Katherine's journey to stardom follows a familiar path - tough times on the local circuit, a big break in London's West End, followed by Broadway and then Hollywood. Norah stands in the wings, keenly observing it all. Later, as an adult, Norah seeks to understand her mother's hidden life. Enright previously won the Booker Prize for The Gathering (2007).




    Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo
    Winner of the Booker Prize 2019 for this novel, Evaristo's Girl, Woman, Other is the one to beat for this award. Following the lives of twelve different characters, this novel provides a history of the black British experience. In weaving this characters together, Evaristo explores themes of race, class, gender, sexuality and more. I am currently reading this book and marvel at Evaristo's writing.


    Nightingale Point by Luan Goldie
    In October 1992, a cargo plane crashed into two blocks of flats in Amsterdam, killing 40 people. Luan Goldie's novel was inspired by this incident. Set in 1996, the residents of Nightingale Point awake to an impending disaster. Told in third person from the points of view of various inhabitants, the story shifts in timeframe from before, during, and after the event. With the Grenfell Tower disaster still so raw, this novel is sure to bring to mind the parallels with this tragedy.


    A Thousand Ships by Natalie Haynes
    Continuing the trend of retelling of ancient tales from the perspectives of women, Haynes casts a feminist lens over the Trojan War. The main narrator is Calliope, muse of epic poetry. Women impacted by war - widows, mothers, girls, goddesses - who were mere passing references in the Iliad, take centre stage and share their untold stories. Having just read and loved Madeline Miller's Circe, this book is of great interest to me.


    How We Disappeared by Jing-Jing Lee
    Set in Singapore during the Japanese occupation, this novel tells the story of survival. It is 1942 and seventeen year old Wang Di is taken from her village to a Japanese military brothel, forced into sexual slavery for the invading troops. She is silent about all she endured for sixty years until she makes a deathbed confession to her grandson Kevin.


    The Most Fun We Ever Had by Claire Lombardo
    Marilyn and David have been blissfully in love for over forty years. Their four daughters, however, have not found that enduring love and each is unhappy in different ways. This dysfunctional family has its share of secrets, sibling rivalry, hidden resentments and unfulfilled desires. This is Lombardo's debut novel.



    The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel
    Possibly the most anticipated book in publishing, Mantel concludes her historical trilogy of Wolf Hall and Bringing Up the Bodies with The Mirror and The Light. Beginning in May 1536 after the execution of Anne Boleyn, this volume explores Thomas Cromwell's final years. The culmination of 15 years' work, I am sure Mantel's novel will live up to the hype.


    Girl by Edna O’Brien
    Militants storm a girls' dormitory one night and abduct the young women. They are taken from their world, forced into rape, marriage and motherhood and terrorised. Using the 2014 Boko Haram kidnappings of 276 schoolgirls as her inspiration, O'Brien uses her incredibly versatile writing skills to tackle a difficult subject.



    Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell
    Set in 1580s Stratford, Agnes and her her husband have three children. When their son Hamnet dies at eleven years of age, Agnes' husband writes a play called Hamlet. I love Maggie O'Farrell's writing and have had this book on my radar for months. This is quite a departure from her previous novels so I look forward to reading this novel.


    Weather by Jenny Offill
    Lizzie is a librarian at a university, married with one child, a drug-addicted brother, and a mother to care for. She is juggling so many things, plus overwhelmed by everything happening in the world.  Offill received high praise for her previous novel, Dept of Speculation (2014).



    The Dutch House by Ann Patchett
    Taking place over five decades, the Dutch House in the suburbs of Philadelphia was purchased by Cyril Conroy after WWII. Cyril's children Danny and Maeve grow up in this mansion until they are turfed out by their stepmother, forced got fend for themselves for the first time in their lives. Patchett is the award winning author of Commonwealth (2016) and Bel Canto (2001).


    Red at the Bone by Jacqueline Woodson
    In 2001, Melody is having her coming-of-age party as a sixteen year old in Brooklyn. She wears a dress made for her mother Iris, who was a pregnant sixteen year old at her own party.  Woodson's novel covers themes of race, class, family, mother-child relationships and more.




    I have not read any of these titles yet, but have started Girl, Woman, Other, and have Queenie, Dutch House and Fleishman on deck read to go.

    If I had to pick a shortlist, I would bet on Evaristo, Enright, Mantel, O'Brien, O'Farrell and Patchett. The shortlist will be announced on 22 April 2020 and the winner will be revealed on 3 June 2020. Happy reading!

    Saturday, 7 March 2020

    The Stella Prize Shortlist 2020

    The 2020 Stella Prize shortlist was announced on 6 March 2020, reducing the longlist of 12 titles, down to six:


    I have read the books by Rowe and Wood. Both brilliant, I would be delighted if either won. I reckon the other contender would be Jess Hill for her look at domestic and family violence, ever topical.

    For more information, see my post on the longlist.

    The winner will be revealed on 8 April 2020. Happy reading!

    Sunday, 1 March 2020

    Postcards from the Edge

    Here Until August (2019), Josephine Rowe's stunning collection of short stories, has been Longlisted for the Stella Prize. Over ten diverse tales, Rowe transports the reader around the globe to the Nullarbor, Montreal, the Snowy Mountains, the Catskills, and beyond. In these far flung locales, we meet characters at crossroads, trying to navigate the circumstances they find themselves in.

    Relationships are central in all of these stories. 'Glisk' centres on two brothers who communicate in quotes from The Castle as they come to terms with their changing relationship. In 'Chavez' a French woman cares for a neighbour's dog as she hides from the world. A married couple have differing views on an ancient homemade sex tape in 'Post-Structuralism for Beginners'.  'Real Life', about a mis-matched couple in Montreal, reminded me of my university days, visiting friends studying at McGill and Concordia, with Rowe perfectly capturing student life and winter in Montreal.  

    Journeys feature in a number of stories. Two women set off on a honeymoon road trip across America in 'Anything Remarkable', not saying what needs to be said.  In 'Horse Latitudes' two friends travel  across the Nullarbor with an old Cardinal 'canned ham' trailer. While in 'A Small Cleared Space' a woman grieving the late-term loss of her unborn child travels to a remote outpost to spend a winter in isolation. 

    If I had to choose a favourite, it would likely be 'Sinkers', which takes place in a town flooded by a lake to make way for a hydroelectric dam. Christian returns to the lake to remember his late mother with a biscuit tin containing her ashes. 

    Rowe has an incredible eye for detail, capturing the nuances of time and place. Her language is precise and purposeful. She is an extraordinary talent and I am keen to seek out her novel A Loving, Faithful Animal which was longlisted for the 2017 Miles Franklin Award.

    Saturday, 29 February 2020

    The Witch of Aiaia

    When the 2019 Women's Prize shortlist was released last year, I was intrigued by two novels that were feminist retellings of ancient myths.  Pat Barker's The Silence of the Girls and Madeline Miller's Circe were quickly added to my monstrous 'To-Be-Read pile' but Miller was the first one I tackled based on recommendations from my friends in the Twitterverse.

    Ancient myths have always intrigued me. As children, my brother and I spent many lazy weekends watching the Clash of the Titans (1981), marvelling at Ray Harryhausen's visual effects, cheering on Perseus as he battled Medusa and the Kraken. As I got older, my interest waned as mythology always felt so patriarchal, with women portrayed so superficially, largely as immoral or manipulative.

    The retelling of myths, with a more sophisticated view of women, has reignited my interest and I began my adventure with Madeline Miller's Circe.

    Circe is the daughter of Helios, the powerful Titan and god of the sun. Unlike her siblings, Circe is seen is inferior and stupid, dismissed by her father who revels in all that glitters. What she lacks in charisma she makes up for in curiosity, learning how to use herbs to make potions and master her sorcery.  She has a deep empathy for mortals and when she falls in love with Glaucos, a local fisherman, she tries to use her witchcraft to make him immortal so they could be together forever. Instead, Glaucos turns into a god, dumps Circe, and becomes infatuated with the sea-nymph Scylla. In a jealous rage, Circe turns Scylla into a hideous monster, and is exiled by Zeus to the island of Aiaia to live out her days in solitude.

    Circe makes a home on Aiaia and masters her witchcraft;  necessary to fend off the seafarers and marauders that seek to violate and steal from her. Over the course of the novel, Circe meets Prometheus, befriends Daedulus and his ill-fated son Icarus, and beds Odysseus. She crosses paths with Jason, Medea, the Minotaur, Penelope, and many more.

    Writing from a first person perspective allows Miller to let readers inside Circe's mind, to discover how she thinks and feels. Her admirable resilience and fortitude, her generosity and wit, and her longing for connection are very real. Circe was a minor character in Homer's Odyssey, but here she is fully formed and realised. Miller is a gifted writer, breathing life into an ancient tale.

    I absolutely loved this novel and am now on a mission to track down Madeline Miller's previous book, The Song of Achilles (2011), and read Pat Barker's The Silence of the Girls (2018).

    Saturday, 22 February 2020

    Mekong Love

    Joey Bui has been Longlisted for the Stella Prize for her debut collection of short stories, Lucky Ticket (2019). Bui is a Vietnamese-Australian writer who based many of the stories in this book on conversations she had with Vietnamese refugees around the world.

    The title story, set in a Saigon, features an interesting narrator. He is an elderly, homeless, war veteran with no legs, who sells lottery tickets on the street. Despite repeated setbacks he is an optimist at heart. Another standout story is 'Mekong Love', about an arranged marriage between a young couple in rural Vietnam.

    My favourite story was 'Abu Dhabi Gently' about a newly married Tanzanian man who goes to the United Arab Emirates to work. It details the isolating lives of migrant workers, toiling day after day to send funds home to their families, waiting until they have earned enough and their employers return their passports.

    Other stories are set in Melbourne, Buenos Aires, Kathmandu and beyond. Themes of war, separation, identity, privilege and family permeate each tale. Isolation, dislocation and loneliness are global sentiments.

    I love well written short stories and this book appealed to me because the stories give voice to minorities. While I enjoyed some of the stories, the collection as a whole did not entirely gel for me. Bui's writing is thought-provoking and I reckon she is an author to watch.

    Saturday, 15 February 2020

    Circle of Friends

    'Adele and Wendy and Jude did not fit properly anymore, without Sylvie. They had been four, it was symmetrical. When they went on holidays they shared two hotel rooms, two beds each. There were four places at the table, two on each side. Now there was an awful, unnatural gap.' (p71)
    Charlotte Wood's The Weekend (2019) is the story of three friends, now in their seventies, coming together after the death of Sylvie. The women have been friends for decades and have been with each other through life's ups and downs. They gather for one last Christmas at Sylvie's beach house, to clear it out for sale and to remember her.

    Adele is an actress, who had brief fame a lifetime ago and now struggles to pay her way. Wendy was once an admired feminist academic, now widowed with distant children and an ageing unwell dog. Restauranteur Jude is used to being in control and as such doles out the tasks to the others ensure Sylvie's house is cleaned properly, although no one will meet Jude's exacting standards.

    The three women could not be more different and it is a wonder that their relationship has survived for forty-plus years. Sylvie was the lynchpin that held the foursome together.

    Each of the women grieves the loss of their friend in different ways and over the course of the weekend tensions rise, past slights and bitterness come to the surface. Will their relationship endure or will the fragile threads that bind them finally give way?

    Charlotte Wood is a gifted writer, creating deeply real, flawed characters. She writes with wit and insight, offering an unblemished portrait of ageing, loneliness and grief. Even Finn, the ailing dog, is vividly portrayed. The Weekend is tightly written and able to be read in one sitting. It was such a pleasure to read a novel where all the lead characters are vibrant older women.

    The Weekend has been longlisted for the Stella Prize. Wood won the Stella Prize in 2016 for her incredible novel The Natural Way of Things.

    Saturday, 8 February 2020

    The Stella Prize Longlist 2020

    The 2020 Stella Prize longlist has been announced! The annual literary award celebrating women writers of both fiction and non-fiction is named after Australian author Stella Miles Franklin. Past winners include:



  • Vicki Laveau-Harvie for The Erratics (2019)
  • Alexis Wright for Tracker (2018)
  • Heather Rose for The Museum of Modern Love (2017)
  • Charlotte Wood for The Natural Way of Things (2016)
  • Emily Bitto for The Strays (2015)
  • Claire Wright for The Forgotten Rebels of Eureka (2014)
  • Carrie Tiffany for Mateship with Birds (2013)

  • I credit the Stella Prize with introducing me to many authors that I would not have otherwise read.

    On 6 February 2020, the longlist for this year's Stella Prize was announced with 12 nominees. I have already read two of the books and loved them, but many of the other books and authors are unknown to me so I look forward to exploring these titles.

    The 2020 longlist is as follows:

    Short Story Collections

    Joey Bui - Lucky Ticket - This is a collection of short stories from a young Vietnamese-Australian author. The judges described Lucky Ticket as a book 'full of fresh, daring writing and delicious, tangible worlds, and the book and Bui's talent are both absolutely needed on the Australian literary-scape'. I love a good short story so will check this out. (Update: Read Review)

    Yumna Kassab - The House of Youssef - The western suburbs of Sydney is the setting for this collection of short stories which centres on the lives of Lebanese immigrants. Told in a minimalist style with sparse detail, Kassab's debut work has been praised by the judges for her consistency in 'quality, technique and narrative form'. 

    Josephine Rowe - Here Until August - This is a collection of short stories set in diverse locations. The judges reported that 'the stories in this collection look at the core aspects of human life - grief, love, sex, sadness, joy and loss. They are deeply reflective with moments of lightness that create an overarching sense of optimism'. Looks interesting, so I have just ordered it from my local library. (Update: Read Review)


    Fiction

    Favell Parrett - There Was Still Love - I see this book everywhere I go - shop windows, booksellers' picks, literary mags. I have been interested in reading it, but always fear I will be disappointed after such hype or genuinely good. Set in Prague in 1938, Prague 1980 and Melbourne in 1980, Parrett explores generations of one family impacted by war and conflict.

    Vikki Wakefield - This is How We Change the Ending - This is a young adult novel which centres on a teenage boy who worries about many things. The judges write that this novel 'tackles the urgent issues for kids today in a way that is relatable. It is an unflinching book that brims with anxieties and attitude, raw angst and gentle refuge.'

    Tara June Winch - The Yield - Wiradjuri author Tara June Winch tells the tale of the Gondiwindi family. The ageing Albert wants to pass on language and storytelling to the next generation. His granddaughter August returns home to find the family land repossessed. Through this work, Winch tells a story about the importance of Indigenous identity, language and culture.

    Charlotte Wood - The Weekend - Wood won this prize in 2016 for her novel The Natural Way of Things - the book I most recommended and gave to others that year.  The Weekend is the story of four older women who have been friends for a lifetime. When one dies, their friendship changes. I purchased The Weekend and have it on my bedside waiting to be read. (Update: read review)

    Memoir

    Caro Llewellyn - Diving Into Glass
    This memoir is a moving story about mental illness, disability and family. Llewellyn was enjoying life in New York when she collapsed and was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Blindsided by illness, she reflected on the courage of her father who was wheelchair-bound from the polio he contracted at age 20, which gave her the skills to rebuild her own life. 

    Mandy Ord - When One Person Dies the Whole World is Over
    In this graphic work of non-fiction, Ord explores themes of belonging and loss. Taking the form of a diary over the course of a year, this is a record of daily life, relationships, and the ups-and-downs that impact us all. I am intrigued by the idea of this book and have just ordered it from the library.

    Non-Fiction

    Gay'wu Group of Women - Song Spirals
    This is a collaborative project by eight women who have gathered ancient narratives of the land in the form of storytelling through songs. The judges write 'this generous, rich narrative helps readers slow down and open up to deep learning. We believe this is a rare and valuable book that, through the generosity of the writers, will increase the knowledge and importance of Indigenous storytelling.'

    Jess Hill - See What You Made Me Do
    Investigative journalist Jess Hill set out to understand what compels men to violence against women. In switching the spotlight from victim to perpetrator, she explores the systems in place which disservice women and which, if altered, could dramatically reduce domestic violence.

    Sally Young - Paper Emperors
    This book is a historical account of the Australian newspaper industry. Its author is a professor of political science at the University of Melbourne who has written several books on media and politics. Young explores how newspaper owners grew in influence, shaping Australian politics and the national discourse.


    In compiling this longlist, the judges have chosen books that are 'exciting and varied'. For more information and the complete judges comments, see the Stella Prize website.

    The Shortlist will be announced on Friday 6 March and the winner will be revealed on 8 April 2020. Happy reading!

    Friday, 31 January 2020

    A Room of One's Own

    A friend gave me a copy of Lisa Taddeo's best-selling Three Women for Christmas. I read it and passed it on to another friend to read, and we have have been talking about it continuously for the past few weeks. Most of our conversation is about the strange appeal of the book, empathy for the three women, and an overwhelming rage against the patriarchy.

    Journalist Lisa Taddeo has spent ten years following these women and reporting on the 'true story' of their sexual lives. The book purports to be an exploration of female desire, but it is limited in its scope and is definitely not a story of female empowerment. In choosing these three women, Taddeo is not showcasing a full range of female desire. In fact, these women are more similar than not - each is lonely, submissive and consumed by notions of female sexuality stemming from popular culture.

    Maggie was a high school student who was groomed by her teacher. He preyed on her insecurities, played with her emotions, and promptly ghosted her when other teachers questioned the appropriateness of his relationship. Devastated by his absence, Maggie is unable to move forward, drops out of college, pursues a series of dead-end jobs, cannot hold a relationship. Eventually, when she confides in a friend about the relationship, she realises that she was used and attempts to pursue justice in the courts.

    Lina is a young mother in a lonely marriage who dreams of a perfect kiss. She remembers her high school boyfriend Aidan and reaches out to him. She believes she loves him and longs for him to love her too, but deep down she knows he is only interested in a booty call. Lina's story was heartbreaking as she goes to extraordinary lengths to please Aidan who is completely unworthy of her affection.

    Sloane and her husband Richard own a restaurant together. Slim, beautiful and seemingly together, Sloane submits to Richard's desires. He encourages her to have sex with other people that he chooses for her. He will watch and sometimes join in as part of the threesome. While engaged consensually, Sloane also feels overwhelming guilt and shame.

    The book is a bestseller because it contains unvarnished depictions of sex. The voyeurism is more creepy than salacious. Readers will not come away with an understanding of what women want or ideas to spice up your love life. The sex isn't sexy, it is sadly unfulfilling. It purports to be research, but feels more like a gossipy novel. It is an engrossing, page-turning read, but not well written.

    These three women are looking for love and belonging. Maggie believes she and her teacher are star-crossed lovers like Bella and Edward in Twilight. Lina's one (unfulfilled) desire is for a long, deep kiss like in The Princess Bride. Sloane sees herself as the submissive in Fifty Shades of Grey. What they actually want is quite simple, but they are involved with unworthy men.

    I was hoping that the book would end with some kind of redemption - a realisation by these women that they deserve better, that they can be fulfilled without relinquishing themselves, that they can move on. But, after having their stories published I do not think they will find any release. I can only hope that they move out of middle America and find peace for themselves.

    Sunday, 12 January 2020

    Lost and Found

    In my early 20s I was on a George Eliot kick, working my way through her novels. I adored Middlemarch and The Mill on the Floss. I admired Adam Bede and Daniel Deronda.  But my Eliot obsession stopped with Silas Marner (1861) when, after reading the first few pages, I tossed it aside.

    At the Sydney Writers' Festival in 2016 I went to a session in which Frank Moorehouse spoke about how he was re-reading George Eliot. At the time I got excited at the prospect of re-reading her too, but felt I should tackle the ones I had never read first. I pulled Silas off the shelf, placed it on the pile beside my bed and left it there. Every time I went to reassess my to-be-read pile, Silas gazed at me longingly, and each time I put it back on the pile. Then, late last year I decided to get it off the pile for once and for all by reading this long overdue novel.

    Silas is a weaver who lives a simple life in a small town. Wrongly accused of theft, he is betrayed by those closest to him and forced into exile. In Raveloe he begins again, living as a hermit, hoarding his savings under the floorboards and becoming known as a reclusive miser. Like Gollum and his precious ring, Silas regularly pulls out his stash to count and admire it.

    When Silas is robbed of all his money, he faces having to start all over again. He soon discovers that money is not the key to happiness, as he finds an orphaned toddler and raises her as his own child. In doing so, he becomes part of the Raveloe community, regains his faith and reconnects with others.

    Eliot has a talent for writing with strong realism - creating a sense of rural England and the people who reside there. However, I honestly did not enjoy this novel, finding it quite dull until the last quarter when Silas became a father to the girl. So, while I am glad to have finally read Silas Marner, I cannot say it was worth the wait!

    Saturday, 4 January 2020

    Planning for 2020

    I am someone who likes to plan ahead and be purposeful in my decision making. At the end of each year I spend time reflecting on my past reading habits, and forward planning for the year ahead. Generally I gather books I want to read and stack them up in an accessible pile. I comb my bookshelves for forgotten titles, peruse lists of books that will be published in the coming year, and lodge reserve requests with my local library.

    My real problem is when it comes to executing the plan. Because reading is so personal I find I am susceptible to falling off course. If I am busy at my day job with a lot of high-intensity thought work, I look for novels to escape in. I will often pick up a book and find that the time is not right to read that title. Or I may be reading something and then I head in a different direction when my library reserve becomes available, or I purchase something new.

    My 'To Be Read' stack is high, and there are plenty of options there to keep me engaged. So rather than prepare a long list of books that I am going to read - only to wind up disappointed at the end of the year that I never read half of them - I am going to be free this year to follow wherever my reading takes me.

    I want to remain diverse in my reading and will still focus on fiction. I have set myself an achievable target of 30 books to keep me on track. I have also set up another book Bingo board for a bit of fun.

    BI NGO
    19th Century
    Classic
    First Novel
    in a Series
    Lesser known Book 
    by a Famous Author
    Features Strong 
    Female Protagonist
    Short Story
    Collection
    Essay
    Collection
    Pre-19th Century
    Classic
    Banned Book
    Fiction Based
    on a True Story
    Australian Literary
     Prize Longlister
    Book on the
    1001 List  
    Women's Prize 
    Longlister
    20th Century
    Classic
    Set in the
    Future
    New York Times
    Bestseller
    Set in Space
    or at Sea
    Mystery or
    Crime Novel
    Booker Prize
     Longlister
    Published
    in 2020
    Book with a 
    colour in title
    Current Affairs
    / Politics
    Biography 
    or Memoir
    Set during
    Wartime
    Poetry 
    Collection
    Adapted into a
    Film/TV Show

    As I plan my 2020 overseas travels, I will look for authors from those locations to deepen my understanding. As literary award longlists are released, I will choose from those titles the ones that most interest me. As new books become published, I will seek them out (yeah, I am talking about you Maggie O'Farrell) and have already put reserves on many. 

    What I do know, is that I am looking forward to my adventures in reading this year! 

    Wednesday, 1 January 2020

    My Reading Year - 2019

    Another delightful year of reading has come to an end. Time to reflect on the year that was.

    My reading goal for 2019, as documented in my challenge was 30 books. I narrowly missed out by one, having read 29 titles this year.


    My list included only a handful of books which I wrote about in my planning for 2019 post on 1 January 2019. While I had intended to read a large stack of books, many of them fell down the list of priorities as new books came into my life. I did tick a few off my list though, including Becoming by Michelle Obama and Educated by Tara Westover.



    For the past few years I have created a reading bingo card in an attempt to diversify my reading (achievements highlighted below).  This worked well this year, encouraging me to read different genres and new authors, although I missed out on a lot of categories I had intended to pursue.

    BI NGO
    19th Century 
    Classic
    First Novel 
    in a Series
    Adapted into a 
    Film/TV Show
    Australian Literary 
    Prize Longlister
    Short Story
    Collection
    Essay 
    Collection
    Set in Space
    or at Sea
    Pre-19th Century
    Classic
    Fiction Based
    on a True Story
    Current Affairs 
    / Politics
    Book on the
    1001 List
    Banned Book
    Features a Strong 
    Female Protagonist
    Set in the
    Future
    New York Times
    Bestseller
    Spin Off from 
    a Classic
    Mystery or
    Crime Novel
    Booker Prize
    Longlister
    Published
    in 2019
    20th Century
    Classic
    Legal Thriller
    Biography 
    or Memoir
    Set during 
    Wartime
    Poetry
    Collection
    Book with a 
    colour in title

    So here's what I read in 2019:


    Fiction
    I started the year with two compelling novels I had long wanted to read: Patricia Highsmith's Deep Water (1957) and The Children Act (2014) by Ian McEwan. Both are thin books which have hidden depths, and both involve failing marriages. Highsmith's novel is full of suspense and intrigue which had me gripped from the outset. McEwan's is multi-layered with a strong female protagonist. I loved them both.

    Next, on the advice of my aunt Jeanne, I read Belinda Bauer's Snap (2018) which was an enjoyable, page-turning crime thriller. Then I read Nora Ephron's Heartburn (1983) which I didn't like at all, followed by Meg Wolitzer's The Wife (2004) which I loved.

    After attending the Sydney Writers' Festival in May, I started gathering books written by authors I heard speak. Oyinkan Braithwaite's My Sister, The Serial Killer (2018) is a delightful, darkly comedic, debut novel set in Nigeria.

    While travelling throughout Morocco in June I read An American Marriage (2018) by Tayari Jones, winner of the Women's Prize for Fiction. This is the book that I recommended most often to people this year. On that trip I also read The Tattooist of Auschwitz (2018) by Heather Morris which I found to be a terribly written fictionalisation of a true story.  


    My reading took off in August and September when I read some terrific novels. John Lanchester's dystopian The Wall (2019) was a great cautionary tale about climate change, nationalism and isolationism.  Then I was hooked by La Belle Sauvage - the first of the new 'The Book of Dust' trilogy by Philip Pullman - which took me back twenty years to my love of Pullman's 'His Dark Materials' series. Then I returned to Gilead with the hotly anticipated sequel to The Handmaid's Tale, Margaret Atwood's The Testaments (2019) which was well worth the wait! This was followed by Brian Bilston's delightful Diary of a Somebody (2019) which had me laughing aloud. 

    I also read some Australian fiction this year. Bruny (2019), a political thriller set in Tasmania by Heather Rose, was an interesting read although it didn't meet all my expectations. John Purcell's The Girl on the Page (2018) was great fun as well. Set in the London publishing world, it is a book-lovers delight.  

    I finally got around to reading Mark Haddon's The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time (2003) and can now see what all the fuss was about. It was great! And, on the last day of the year, I finished George Eliot's Silas Marner (1861) a classic I had been meaning to read since the last century! 





    Reflecting on the novels I read over the past year there were a lot about doomed relationships. - An American Marriage, The Wife, The Children Act, Heartburn, Deep Water all had failing marriages, while My Sister, the Serial Killer and Diary of a Somebody also focussed on relationship troubles.  If anything these novels served to reinforce the importance of trust and love and made me grateful for my own marriage.  I also read a lot of dystopian or speculative fiction, which is one of my favourite genres. The Wall, The Testaments, La Belle Sauvage, and to a lesser extent Bruny, all showed a world that I do not want to live in and one that is not so far out of step with the path the world is heading today.



    Of the more than a dozen novels I read this year the one I would most recommend to others is Tayari Jones' An American Marriage. The story of newlyweds suddenly separated by incarceration is a deeply rich story of race, justice, hope and love. I described it at the time as 'heartbreaking and beautiful' and, of all the great books I read this year, it is the one I think about most often. 





    Non-Fiction

    I read a lot of biographies and memoirs this year. I started the year with Tara Westover's fascinating Educated (2018) - the story of a girl growing up in a Mormon survivalist family and her journey to become a Cambridge-educated professional. Vicki Laveau-Harvie's award winning The Erratics (2018) is the story of another dysfunctional family and a different kind of escape. The memoir centres around the author coming home to care for elderly parents after a long absence and coming to terms with the toxicity of the family environment.

    Helen Garner's Yellow Notebook - Diaries Volume 1 (1978-1987) was published this year and I really enjoyed reading this decade in a writer's life. I am not sure what drew me to read Michael Caine's latest memoir, Blowing the Bloody Doors Off (2018) but I liked it, especially as I also listened to it read by the actor himself. 



    Michelle Obama's Becoming (2018) was a refreshingly candid memoir and left me feeling great admiration for the author. Likewise Gillian Trigg's Speaking Up (2018) provided great insights into her time at the Human Rights Commission and the long way we need to go to improve human rights in Australia. For something quite different, I also greatly enjoyed Emily Nussbaum's essay collection I Like to Watch (2019) which is a compilation of her television reviews, interviews and though pieces.
    In terms of politics and current affairs, I enjoyed Niki Savva's Plots and Prayers (2019) about the downfall of Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull, a follow up to her 2016 book The Road to Ruin about Tony Abbott.  Michael Lewis' The Fifth Risk (2018) was recommended to me by my cousin Graham and I found it fascinating. Lewis focussed on the transition of government from Obama to Trump and the way in which three key federal agencies were impacted by the ignorance and arrogance of the incoming regime. I also read Annabel Crabb's Quarterly Essay Men at Work (2019) about the barriers men face in relation to parenthood. 

    While I liked all the non-fiction I read this year, if I had to choose one favourite I would pick Michelle Obama's Becoming. 

    Poetry 
    Poetry was a bit hit and miss for me this year. Early in the year I borrowed Kate Lilley's Ladylike from the library and I could not get in to it. While I managed to read the whole collection, I never managed to write a post about it. 

    In the year the world lost Clive James, I read his Injury Time in March which I found most enjoyable despite the dark spectre of death hanging over it.  But my favourite book of poetry this year, was a novel about a struggling poet. Brian Bilston's Diary of a Somebody was absolutely delightful and one of my favourite books of the year. 


    Audiobooks

    This year I took out a subscription to Audible and over the course of the year I have enhanced my physical reading with listening to audiobooks. It helps me on my commute to listen to the book while walking and taking the train, as I read along with it. My cousin Graham calls this 'power reading' and I have found it to be a great way to read, especially books I have struggled to read or where the narrator's voice adds to the storytelling.  

    This year I listened to Michael Caine read his memoir Blowing the Bloody Doors Off, Andrew Sachs (Manuel!) read Silas Marner, Michael Sheen read La Belle Sauvage, and Gillian Triggs read her memoir Speaking Up. Plus, after I finished reading Atwood's The Testaments, I then listened to the audiobook and got to relive it again. 

    Best of 2019

    Of all the books I read this year the ones I regard most highly are Tayari Jones' An American Marriage, Michelle Obama's Becoming and Brian Bilston's Diary of a Somebody Honourable mentions would extend to Margaret Atwood's The Testaments, Meg Wolitzer's The Wife, Ian McEwan's The Children Act and Patricia Highsmith's Deep Water.



    The worst books I read this year were Jim Broadbent's graphic novel Dull Margaret (2018), Morris' The Tattooist of Auschwitz and Nora Ephron's Heartburn.

    Saturday, 21 December 2019

    Fragments of Life

    Readers of this blog will know I am more than a little bit obsessed with Australian writer Helen Garner. While I admire her fiction, it is her non-fiction works which I really love. I have often said I would read anything she writes - shopping lists, post-it notes, anything...  As luck would have it, she has now published the first volume of her diaries. 

    Helen Garner's Yellow Notebook - Diaries Volume 1 (1978-1987) covers an interesting period in her life. She has just published her debut novel Monkey Grip (1977) and is on the cusp of success. But she is also riddled with self-doubt, fuelled by any whiff of a negative critique. She is a hard working author who writes frankly about her successes and failures - her inability to create and when the words flow easily - providing insight to the feast-or-famine life of a writer.

    The diary isn't written in a daily format, rather it is comprised of snippets, observations, sentiments and glimpses. In one entry she will describe her anxiety as an author, the next she will write about her blossoming Christianity. Then she will insert a scathing critique like 'Siouxsie and the Banshees at l'Empire. They were revolting' (1978, p6).  She writes with such clarity and conciseness, wit and immediacy, that readers can't help but become engrossed.

    Throughout the ten years of this notebook, we meet a range of fascinating people and gain some understanding of Helen's character.  Her daughter, M, is growing and becoming more independent. Helen's fierce maternal love and admiration for her child seeps through the pages.

    Her marriage to second husband F is fading and she contemplates their future in the pages of her notebook. One diary entry that particularly struck me was when Helen writes 'F offered to pay some of my expenses so I could stop doing journalism and concentrate on my own work. I felt a stab of panic at the thought of being dependent' (1982, p31). Having experienced a similar sensation at one point in my life, I could completely relate.

    It is this relatability which makes reading her diaries so enjoyable. Helen's vulnerability and self-deprecation is on full display. She can be cranky, mean-spirited, loving and kind. She is wholly present and human.  My favourite sentence in the whole book is this:  'I made some curtains for my room and they are a disaster' (1985, p137). There is something about the simplicity and frankness of her critique that made me roar with laughter. 

    While not a book for every reader, I found such pleasure in reading the Yellow Notebook. I look forward to the next volume.

    My reviews of some of Garner's other works appears on this blog:

    Tuesday, 10 December 2019

    Couch Potato

    If I'd have known that I could make a living as television critic, I reckon I would have made different choices about my studies and career. Emily Nussbaum, television critic for the New Yorker, has my dream job as a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist, insightfully analysing popular culture. Nussbaum has compiled a collection of her articles in I Like to Watch - Arguing my way through the TV Revolution (2019).

    'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' is the show that started Nussbaum's career. Often dismissed as a superficial program for young people, Nussbaum argues, in the first essay in this collection, that 'Buffy' is multilayered and more complex that it appears. 

    Throughout I Like to Watch, Nussbaum writes intelligently about many of the shows I have watched over the past twenty years - 'The Sopranos', 'Sex and the City', 'Girls', 'Marvellous Mrs Maisel', 'The Good Wife', 'The Americans', 'True Detective' and more. Her essays allowed me reminisce fondly about some of these shows and made me want to rewatch others to consider some of the contextual angles she observed. There are also essays about shows I haven't seen (like 'Jane the Virgin', 'Blackish', 'The Comeback') which, while still interesting, are less engaging. Nussbaum includes profiles of Joan Rivers, Ryan Murphy and Jenji Kohan in this collection, observing how their lives are reflected in their art. 
    One of the most powerful pieces is 'Confessions of a Human Shield', a long essay in which she explores Woody Allen, Louis CK and the #MeToo movement. Nussbaum writes about her views on Allen changed over time, having been an avid fan from her teenage years, and now seeing him and his films in a different light.  She is uncomfortably torn and asks whether you can seperate the art from the artist.

    Nussbaum's sharp observations have a distinctly feminist lens and it is great to read a collection that praises art aimed at women, people of colour and other marginalised groups. In her essay on 'Sex and the City', Nussbaum pushes back against 'the assumption that anything stylised (or formulaic, or pleasurable, or funny, or feminine, or explicit about sex rather than about violence, or made collaboratively) must be inferior'. She elevates content targeted to women and dismissed the notion that TV is a 'guilty pleasure'. 

    Television is often seen as a lesser art form, although that is changing with recent 'must see' event television and the arrival of streaming services which has seen top cinema directors, writers and actors drawn to the small screen. As an avid viewer myself, I appreciate Nussbaum's validation of this particular art form.