Reading Challenge Recap
A List, Some Lessons, and Recommendations for Holiday Giving
As anyone who knows me can attest, I love to read. But much as I love books, when it comes to approved reading lists, or books that are considered obligatory, I agree with read-and-be-merry:
I come by this attitude toward books honestly. For years, my mom taught reading to high school students so they could pass the state reading test, and she knows from experience that anytime someone is enjoying a book—any book—that is an absolute good. My mom’s students were lucky they had her for their teacher, and not the teacher from Freaks and Geeks, who deplores her students’ book choices and foists Crime and Punishment on a bunch of unwilling fourteen-year-olds:
No need for invidious hierarchies. We should read books because they interest us, with no regard to impressing other people with our choices.
That being said, it can be interesting to explore books that are out of our comfort zone, and so this year I embarked on a reading challenge. In this post I’ll share some of my discoveries from my year of reading dangerously.
The List
With one exception, I enjoyed and learned from all the books on this list. But for your reading pleasure, or your gift-buying convenience, the books I especially recommend are marked with an asterisk.
1. A book written in North America—Harlem Shuffle, by Colson Whitehead *
2. A book written in South America—Death and the Maiden, by Ariel Dorfman
3. A book written in East Asia—Inspector Imanishi Investigates, by Seichō Matsumoto
4. A book written in South Asia—The Widows of Malabar Hill, by Sujata Massey
5. A book written in Africa—Afterlives, by Abdulrazak Gurnah
6. A book written in the Middle East—Midaq Alley, by Naguib Mahfouz
7. A book written in Russia—War and Peace, by Leo Tolstoy *
8. A book written in Europe—The Fraud, by Zadie Smith
9. A book written in Australia—This House of Grief, by Helen Garner *
10. A memoir—Knife: Meditations after an Attempted Murder, by Salman Rushdie
11. A biography—Penelope Fitzgerald: A Life, by Hermione Lee
12. A nonfiction book about history—The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny and Murder, by David Grann *
13. A collection of short stories—Table for Two, by Amor Towles *
14. A collection of poetry—Not Akhmatova: Poems and Adaptations, by Noah Berlatsky
15. A play—Romeo and Juliet, by William Shakespeare *
16. A graphic novel—The Talk, by Darrin Bell
17. A book older than 100 years—Genesis, translated and with commentary by Robert Alter
18. A collection of essays—On Thinking for Yourself, by Caitlin Flanagan
19. A novel by a famous author, other than the one(s) they are best known for—The Buried Giant, by Kazuo Ishiguro
20. A book in German—Das Café ohne Namen, by Robert Seethaler
21. A book you read in high school and hated—Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë *
22. A book you read in high school and loved—Cat’s Cradle, by Kurt Vonnegut
23. A book by an author you have never given a fair shot—The Sense of an Ending, by Julian Barnes
24. A book of cultural critique by someone who disagrees with you on a major political point—Troubled: A Memoir of Foster Care, Family, and Social Class, by Rob Henderson1
25. A book you’ve started but never finished—One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel García Márquez
The Lessons
It’s good to persevere through challenges, but there are limits. I was glad to have read these books—all but one of them, that is. I will just never, ever, be able to finish One Hundred Years of Solitude.
I’m sure the fault lies with me and not the book, but the experience of trying to plow through it reminded me of a librarian acquaintance’s advice: Subtract your age from one hundred. If, by the corresponding page, you are still not enjoying a book, go ahead and quit, guilt-free. Why waste our limited time here on earth on books we dislike?
Many years ago I made a valiant effort to read One Hundred Years of Solitude for a book club and got more than halfway through, in spite of my animus against it.2 But this time around I quit after the first chapter. I traded in my copy at a book exchange for two mysteries starring animal sleuths. These adorable books are not only fun but are also helping me practice my German—a more worthwhile use of my time than soldiering on through a book just because it’s a classic, in my opinion.
Let chance open our minds. Book clubs are a great way to encounter works we might not otherwise read. For example, I had avoided books by Colson Whitehead for a dumb reason: The premise of his first novel, The Intuitionists—elevator-repairmen who have psychic powers—sounded weird to me. I am grateful to my book club for choosing Harlem Shuffle, proving me wrong, and introducing me to an outstanding writer. Other sources of book-serendipity are the display tables at our local public library, used book stores, Book Bub, and the Kindle Daily Deals. When a book is cheap or free, it’s easier to give it a chance. Several of the best books I read this year—for example This House of Grief—were from the bargain bin.
Even though s/he was an idiot at times, have compassion on your younger self. Case in point, Jane Eyre. I love the book now, but I wasn’t ready for it at age sixteen. Is anybody? I was angry at Jane when she left Mr. Rochester rather than “live in sin” with him. Throw caution to the wind, Jane! I thought. Who cares what other people think? It was incomprehensible to me that Jane was behaving honorably in refusing to violate her moral code, and I didn’t understand that Victorian women who deviated from the straight and narrow were ostracized and condemned to poverty and degradation.3 Perhaps high school is too young for Jane Eyre (and maybe for The Scarlet Letter too).
Many hands make light work. Readers may have noticed the asterisk next to War and Peace, and I do indeed highly recommend it. Who has time to conquer such a behemoth? Everyone!—with the help of the Footnotes and Tangents War and Peace slow read. War and Peace has 361 chapters, so almost every day we read one short chapter. Our leader, Simon, starts us off with a character list and other materials to support us as we navigate the complicated story. He runs a daily chat thread, and every week he sends out a longer post with historical and biographical background, artwork to illustrate characters and events, and maps to help us visualize the battles.
The slow-read community is warm and insightful and includes readers from around the world. Simon’s humane and understanding approach to the characters keeps our discussions positive, even when we’re impatient with the characters and their failings. Simon has channeled Tolstoy’s generous understanding of what it means to be human, and he has cultivated that understanding in us too. Who would have thought that an online slow read could be so spiritually meaningful?
Intrigued? Terrific! Simon is running the slow read again next year! You can learn more and sign up here:
The Recommendations
It’s time to get on my soapbox. The bias in the elite literary world against genre fiction and plot-driven novels4 strikes me as limited and ignorant. I’d also like to speak up for comic novels; not everything we read has to be dark and depressing5 in order to have value! So in addition to the highbrow works I have recommended in the first section, here are some well-plotted novels I loved this year. They make us think—but they show us a good time too.
Comic novels:
Good Material, by Dolly Alderton
I’m Starting to Worry about This Black Box of Doom, by Jason Pargin
You Are Here, by David Nicholls
Cozy mysteries:
The Thursday Murder Club and We Solve Murders, by Richard Osman
Fair play mysteries that we can solve ourselves:
Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone and Everyone on This Train Is a Suspect, by Brian Stevenson
Literary fiction that also has a gripping plot:
Intermezzo, by Sally Rooney
James, by Percival Everett
Long Island Compromise, by Taffy Brodesser-Akner
Literary mysteries:
Death at the Sign of the Rook, by Kate Atkinson
The Hunter, by Tana French
Romances that have unsuspected depth:
Funny Story, by Emily Henry
The Heart Principle, by Helen Hoang
How about you, readers? Have you ever done a reading challenge? How did it go? What were the best books you read this year? Please share your thoughts and recommendations in the comments!
The Tidbit
Every day this year, in addition a chapter of War and Peace, I also read a poem from Brian Bilston’s droll and informative book Days Like These: An Alternative Guide to the Year in 366 Poems. The delightful poem from 30 March, below, celebrates the birthday of Vincent Van Gogh.
Vincent Van Cough
Is it Van Goff or Van Go?
Most people don’t knogh.
They could more easily scogh
an unripe mangogh
than toss ogh his name
with cheery gustogh.
Yet neither’s right much.
Well, at least for the Dutch,
who pronounce it as Gogh,
as a Scot might say loch.
But that’s a sound I find tough
without wanting to cough.
These mispronunciations
could be cured in an instant,
if we could all just agree
to call the man Vincent.
For one thing, I find the book kinda sexist. During our book club discussion, I protested that Márquez seemed to think that women only cared about big penises—which prompted a nice older lady to quip, “Well, we don’t NOT care about them!”
I was also fool enough to have a crush on St. John Rivers just because he was handsome and intense, when he obviously belongs in the pantheon of literary villains with Lovelace, Victor Frankenstein, and Angel Clare.
You just have to laugh at Joshua Ferris’s rave review of this year’s winner of the Booker Prize, Orbital, by Samantha Harvey. Ferris rhapsodizes, “The book is ravishingly beautiful. It is also nearly free of plot.” He seems to think this is a good thing.
I like to amuse myself by checking out the New Yorker’s “Briefly Noted” section, where the editors recommend four books each week. They are almost always a cavalcade of wretchedness and misery. For example, the four recommended books in a recent issue 1. tell the story of Emmet Till, 2. predict what life will be like when all the ice in the world has melted, 3. recount the true story of a thirteenth-century woman who was accused of being a witch, and 4. chronicle the suffering of a sex worker in Tokyo.
Egads! Someone bring me a cozy mystery, stat!
Hi Mari - Waving from the War & Peace substack here! I, too, could never finish "100 Years of Solitude", so you have company. I am tackling another of my mountains next year, "Pride and Prejudice". Wish me luck!
Oh I’m so glad you enjoyed this challenge! I have read a lot this year but failed to adhere to the challenge, but for a good reason: I was enjoying other books so much I didn’t feel motivated to try to check the boxes. I’d like to give it another shot next year.
“Schafskrimi” is my favorite German word I’ve learned in recent memory 😂