Time for the monthly reading report. . . .
October followed September’s great reading with another felicitous stack of books. From my 2020 Reading Journal, these entries:
- Brit Bennet’s The Mothers (literary fiction; coming-of-age; Black writer)
- Alessandro Baricco’s Senza Sangue (Italian literature; literary fiction)
- Ann Cleeves’ The Crow Trap (mystery)
- Ann Cleeves’ Telling Tales (mystery)
- Magda Szabo’s Iza’s Ballad (literary fiction; mother-daughter; old age; trans. from Hungarian)
- Marc E. Agronin’s The End of Old Age (creative non-fiction; self-help; pscyhology; aging)
- John Farrow’s Ball Park (mystery; Canadian — set in Montreal)
- Kwame Onwuachi’s Notes from a Young Black Chef (memoir; Black writer; restaurant culture; anti-racist; food-writing)
First book of the month, #61 in my journal, was Brit Bennet’s The Mothers (which I read as an e-book from the Vancouver Public Library). I recommended Bennet’s more recent The Vanishing Half in my September post. I enjoyed The Mothers as well — was particularly intrigued by the narrative voice, something like a Greek chorus watching from the wings, with a perspective that struck me as both invested and yet somewhat detached. (My niece, who reads prolifically and posts about it at Pages and Pinots, liked this even more than she liked The Vanishing Half — see her post about it here.)
Above, and continued below, the entry for Book #62 of the year, the first Italian book I’ve finished — Brava Per Me!
Alessandro Barrico’s Senza Sangue — available in English as Without Blood, and I would recommend it (so did the reviewer at The Guardian). Even with my limited Italian reading ability in Italian, I was mesmerised by the powerful effect of such sparing prose to create clear, even indelible, imagery. (Surprisingly manageable for a first book to read in Italian — helped that it’s a slim book, a novella, only 105 pages. I posted about it on Instagram as well.
Entries #63 and #64. . . Yes! I finally read Ann Cleeves, and I have no idea why I didn’t get here sooner. Early October, a day when I was very reluctantly acknowledging the end of summer, and wanted only to curl up on the couch with a good thick mystery, consolation for a wet grey world just out the window. And Vera Stanhope obliged. . . The Crow Trap was the perfect antidote to my mood, so much so that I followed up with the second title in this series, Telling Tales.
Bibliophile’s comment: Having a print copy of the book (paperback, borrowed from the library) made my tea-drinking, couch-reading even more satisfying that first day. But I also very much appreciated being able to download an e-copy of the series’s second title the very next day. Choices! Gotta love ’em!
(My Instagram post about The Crow Trap here
Entry #65 Magda Szabo’s disturbing, poignant, thoughtful novel Iza’s Ballad, translated by George Szirtes.
Someday I’ll write a bit about the various paths that lead me to the books I read. . . or bring them to my door. I’d never heard of Magda Szabo until an interesting woman I’ve only met on my Zoom screen (in my Italian class) told me about it in one of our “breakout room” chats. Her enthusiasm prompted me to reserve Iza’s Ballad at the library. . . From the few reviews I’ve looked at since reading this novel (here’s a good compilation), I think I might have been better to read Szabo’s much earlier work, The Door. And I will, someday, but meanwhile I’m pleased to have been introduced to Szabo’s writing.
Have you read either? So much that is compelling and resonant in Iza’s Ballad— set in the urbanizing, modernizing Hungary of post World-II –about a mother and daughter, both trying to do their best to care for the other after the elderly woman is widowed. They miss the mark grievously; sometimes love is not enough. (As a residual effect of my teaching years, I often catch myself dreaming up syllabi for possible courses. For example, I might imagine a reading list for a course that explored construction and representation of the mother-daughter relationship; in such a course, I might pair Iza’s Ballad with Kyung-Sook Shin’s Please Look After Mother (which I mentioned in my May post) as two novels that look at the relationship of an adult daughter with an aging mother.
Entry 66: Marc E. Agronin’s The End of Old Age which I’ve photographed with Iza’s Ballad because they both treat aging, albeit from different perspectives and via different genres.
Entry #67 is another thriller/mystery novel, John Farrow’s Ball Park, one of three “prequel” additions to the Èmile Cinq-Mars’ series I like so much (character, setting, fine writing, insightful observations about hermeneutics and morality and epistemology as these are manifest in detective work). I wrote a fairly long post here about his earlier book, The Storm Murders. Ball Park is shorter and lighter than my favourites in the series — nor does it feature a protagonist my age, part of the appeal with the earlier novels. I’m happy to have it, nonetheless — it’s interesting to watch Cinq-Mars in his youth, knowing who he will become — and I’m looking forward to reading the remaining two prequels.
And then the final book in my October reading . . . .
If part of your anti-racist work includes reading more Black writers across a range of genres and topics, this memoir will instruct and entertain and move you. Even more so if you’re a “foodie.”
Some great recipes included in the book as well, and I think it would make a good gift for any of the cooks and gourmands on your list. . .
But right now, the cook in my life is just plating the chicken cacciatore — the fragrance of which has been growing increasingly intense as I’ve been finishing this post. And my tummy is growling too loudly for me to write any more. I’ll be back before too long, though, to discover what you’ve been reading. With the increased confinement of this Coronavirus winter, all your recommendations will be welcome to the community of readers who gather here occasionally. Comments below open and waiting for you. Thanks!
Lovely to have a new list of book ideas. The John Farrow series sounds like my sort of read. Will have to check them out at the library otherwise good old kindle. I recently read a novel set in Sri Lanka called Beautiful by Amanthi Harris. Lots to enjoy on a series of levels. The various problems associated with religion and class system alongside descriptions of an idyllic holiday isle. Well worth a read. B x
Thanks B! What would we have done during some of these lockdowns without our e-books. Very lucky here — my public library kept their e-borrowing service going straight through all the closures and limited hours. I've made a note of Beautiful; recommendations from discerning and enthusiastic readers are always welcome — especially if the titles take us armchair travelling. . . .
Good to get all your recommendations, especially the John Farrow titles. I enjoyed the others and was disappointed there were so few in that series. I’ve just started a new to me book by Keigo Higashino. Not sure what to make of it yet; it’s very different from any of his others that I’ve read. This one is “Naoka” and is apparently the first of his to be translated. A bit creepy to be honest, but I’ll see how it unfolds.
Frances in Sidney
Recently read The Vanishing Half, enjoyed it but Nella Larsen's Passing felt more "real" somehow.
Now reading The Mothers and enjoying it very much, the narration style is intriguing.
Also listening to Joyce Carol Oates Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars on Audible whilst knitting a throw. I love being retired!
Frances: You'll have to let me know about Naoka. I think there are still a few of the later ones, already translated, that I haven't read, but I hope to get to all eventually. So far, I've really enjoyed Higashino's mysteries.
Jules: Hmmm, I haven't read Passing. Do you think that maybe The Vanishing Half isn't so much trying to be "real" as to provoke thinking about race, identity, citizenship, etc. — especially given the town with all "Black" residents — obviously fictional?
And to your last point, yes, retirement has some strong points in its favour! 😉
Brava for Barrico once more!
Here are many interesting recommendations
Lucky you-just starting to read Ann Cleeves!
In a period of only light reading,I've investigated more of Christobel Kent and found that A Florentine Revenge is actually a prequel of Sandro Cellini series in a way,some things changed later on,but we meet the characters and the case that was the reason why Sandro had to leave Polizia di Stato.
I'm reading Avni Doshi's Burnt Sugar,shortlisted for Booker,poignant mother-daughter realationship,too,set in west India
Dottoressa
Such an interesting list. I know nothing of Ann Cleeves and so now I have something new to discover. The same for the Farrow, but I am such a new mystery/thriller reader, and I admit that my taste and knowledge are both still somewhat undeveloped. I will have to look up the Szabo; I adored The Door, and was thinking of rereading it. And on the subject of rereading, I am currently reading Arundhati Roy’s book of essays — Azadi: Freedom, Fascism, Fiction, which I am finding fascinating. I bring it up because I now think I need to reread both The God of Small Things, and especially The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, a book I found beautiful but profoundly difficult and depressing. Now I think I may have missed something critical. Who knows? Well we are always evolving, are we not?
Dottoressa: Did you ever read Barrico's Silk? I passed over it on the bestseller shelves in the past, but after reading Senza Sangue I'm wondering if I made a mistake. Never saw the film either. . .
You raced through those Sandro Cellini books. I'm just beginning the second now, and looking forward to more Florence. And I must get to the Booker shortlist — all the books look great!
Mardel: I think you'd really like the Emile Cinq-Mars books, especially the ones in which he's older. . . A detective interested in theology (he spent time in a seminary before realizing he didn't have a true vocation to be a priest) and philosophy. . . never pedantically or tiresomely so, imo. . . I'll watch for your thoughts re Arundhati Roy. We felt similarly about Ministry of Utmost Happiness, as I recall. . .
Isn't it lovely while learning a new language when you get to the stage of reading "real" books? In Italian, I got to that point last summer. I read an essay about the history of the italian national dish of spaghetti al pomodoro by historian Massimo Montanari, called "Il mito delle origine". Then by Daria Bignardi: "Non vi lasceró orfani" – the memories of her childhood in the Emilia Romagna and in particular of her troubled relacionship with her mother. I also finally finished the second part of Elena Ferrante's quartet – now I have to get hold of volume no. 3. I read two more books related to Italy – although in their German translations. "The Icemakers" by Dutch author Ernest van der Kwast – there is an English translation, I think. And by Michela Murgia: "Accabadora", which impressed me greatly. In a way, it is also a story of mother and daughter.
I am not surprised you enjoyed "The Uncommon Reader". Have you read "The Lady in the Van", also by Alan Bennett? There is a wonderful movie, with Maggie Smith playing the part of the "van lady".
Eleonore: Yes! It feels like such an achievement and rewarding in so many ways. I'm very impressed that you've finished two volumes of the EF quartet — it will be a long while before I'd be ready to tackle that! Currently working on Calvino's Se Una Notte d'Inverno. . . .but I'm keeping an English translation nearby to help me along. . .
I haven't read The Lady in the Van, but did see the movie — loved it!