Randy's reads in 2023

Welcome. Here you will find a mix of literary fiction, a bit of non-fiction, and a few surprises. I enjoy writing brief reviews for each book I read. I’ve been part of the 75 Books Challenge for twelve years.

I live in Waterloo, Ontario, Canada.



A view of the Bridal Veil Falls on Manitoulin Island.

Books read in 2023

January
1. Fresh Water for Flowers by Valérie Perrin
2. The Sleeping Car Porter by Suzette Mayr
3. Disorientation by Elaine Hsieh Chou
4. Dr. No: a novel by Percival Everett
5. The Paris Apartment: a novel by Lucy Foley
6. Lessons in Chemistry: a novel by Bonnie Garmus
7. Liberation Day: Stories by George Saunders
8. Novelist as a Vocation by Haruki Murakami

February
9. Still Life by Sarah Winman
10. The Trees: a novel by Percival Everett
11. Beach Read by Emily Henry
12. Bewilderment: a novel by Richard Powers
13. Orfeo: a novel by Richard Powers

March
14. Now Is Not The Time To Panic: a novel by Kevin Wilson
15. Telephone: a novel by Percival Everett
16. Nina Simone's Gum: a memoir of things lost and found by Warren Ellis
17. The Queen's Gambit by Walter Tevis
18. The Burgess Boys: a novel by Elizabeth Strout
19. The Book That No One Wanted To Read by Richard Ayoade
20. Amy and Isabelle: a novel by Elizabeth Strout
21. Companion Piece: a novel by Ali Smith

April
22. West: a novel by Carys Davies
23. On writing and failure, or, on the peculiar perseverance required to endure the life of a writer by Stephen Marche
24. Everyone Knows Your Mother Is A Witch by Rivka Galchen

May
25. The Mission House: a novel by Carys Davies
26. Shy: a novel by Max Porter
27. White Cat, Black Dog: stories by Kelly Link

June
28. Snow Road Station: a novel by Elizabeth Hay
29. The Answer to Everything: a novel by Elyse Friedman

July
30. The Idiot: a novel by Elif Batuman
31. Mrs Death Misses Death by Selena Godden
32. Ayoade on Top by Richard Ayoade

August
33. Shortcomings by Adrian Tomine

September
34. I Am Not Sidney Poitier: a novel by Percival Everett

October
35. Witch King by Martha Wells

My top five reads of 2022:

The Rings of Saturn by W.G. Sebald
From a distance the most distinctive feature of the sixth planet from the sun in our solar system is a set of rings consisting of debris from some previously circulating body which, due to some unknown cataclysm, disintegrated. The remains of this ancient event, the rings, are evident even though the event itself is lost to us. So too, one might say, the debris of humanity’s interactions, which themselves are lost in the fog of time, nonetheless continue to encircle us, and might, from a distance also be our most distinctive feature. Following the traces in the past of present objects or events affords the opportunity to ruminate upon the unravelling of our various hopes and plans. Which might be a fair characterization of grief. Sebald’s writing is so measured and gentle, thoughtful and carefully constructed, that the paragraphs of sometimes many pages slip by seemingly without effort. Yet when it ends, you’ll feel as though you barely scratched the surface of what might have been said.

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe
Okonkwo’s father was not industrious, or manly, or wise, or wealthy. He was everything that Okonkwo swore that he would not be. And he wasn’t. From a very early age he established himself as a great wrestler, warrior, farmer of yams, and keeper of the traditions of his clan. For a time his rise is unstoppable. But events, or his actions, or fate, or his chi conspire against him and he finds himself falling in the eyes of others and more importantly in his own eyes. This is a deceptively simple story, subtly told and curiously worked. Story threads recur in successive chapters, sometimes in successive paragraphs, but altered. It’s as though narrative itself is unstable in Okonkwo’s world. And ultimately the point of view shifts at the very end to the white district commissioner contemplating writing his memoir of his time in Africa in which, he muses, Okonkwo may merit part of one paragraph. Or he may simply be a detail that will need to be cut out.

My Phantoms by Gwendoline Riley
Bridget Grant’s mother and father are unsettling. Her mother, Helen who is known as Hen, desperately wants to fit in. It is something she gestures towards throughout her life, never fully achieving. Bridget’s father is an altogether nastier piece of work, pointlessly cruel to both Hen, Bridget, and Bridget’s sister, Michelle. Bridget’s only defence against him is to close herself off from him in hopes that he will just go away. It is somewhat surprising then to find that Bridget and her sister survive this upbringing. Mostly. But so much is odd about Bridget’s characterization of her parents and their sometimes friends that the reader may begin to suspect Bridget’s point of view. Is she as stable and clear-eyed as she appears?

Checkout 19 by Claire-Louise Bennett
The narrator of Checkout 19 is a writer circling around events in her personal history. Often these events do not reveal themselves as significant initially. But as they are considered and reconsidered, or rewritten, they gain in significance. They gain in significance even as they change in detail, sometimes gaining details that weren’t there on first telling, sometimes contradicting earlier iterations. There is the all important first story, barely an aberration from doodling, that gets seen and welcomed by a significant teacher. And there are other stories, far more elaborate, which display the narrator’s burgeoning prowess as a wordsmith. And ever and again there is that Russian man circling the aisles in the grocery store.

The Ballad of Peckham Rye by Muriel Spark
Dougal Douglas, or Douglas Dougal if he is on the other side of the Rye, is an interloping fey source of chaos who nearly evenly divides opinion in Peckham. Yet very few can pinpoint what exactly it is they like or dislike about Dougal. It’s probably true to say that no one is unaffected by him. But it can’t be leading to something good. Muriel Spark is in top form with this sprightly tour de force as she quick-cuts forward and backward in time and jumps from one character to the next. The pace will leave you breathless. But that might also be due to the laughing. Some of what Dougal does is ridiculous. Yet it’s all so Dougal, isn’t it?

Welcome back, Randy!

Wishing you a comfortable reading year in 2023, Randy.

What a stunning opening post!

Pleased to see some love for The Ballad of Peckham Rye.

Have a great year of reading!

Happy reading in 2023!

1. Fresh Water for Flowers by Valérie Perrin

Brace yourself. There is a lot of sadness, tragedy, grief, and distasteful people in this novel. But there is also love, hope, joy, and happiness. If you can get through the difficult stuff, life may have some pleasantness for you, as it does for our protagonist, Violette Toussaint (née Trenet).
Violette’s life begins poorly. She is an orphan in foster care. When things begin to look up, for example when she finds a man who desires her as much as she desires him, it’s probably not for the best. Philippe Toussaint is a nasty piece of work. But for a few years Violette can ignore his harshness, philandering, and bone-idleness because at least she has her daughter, Léonine. Alas, tragedy is never far from Violette. When her daughter is killed in an apparent accident at a children’s camp, Violette must spend the rest of her life dealing with her grief. Taking on the job of cemetery keeper in the small town of Brancion-en-Chalon is part of that process.

Despite flitting back and forth in time, the story of Violette is linear and episodic. Gradually she learns more about life and love, at times from unusual sources. And always the love she had and has for her daughter carries her forward. If the sporadic melodrama clashes with the broader story of growth, perhaps that’s just a genre thing. You will either welcome both sides of the story or find them both a bit shallow. And you might flip back and forth in your opinion as you go along.

It didn’t fully work for me. And I didn’t take seriously the attempt to soften our view of Philippe towards the end. He’s just distasteful.

Only very gently recommended.

Happy reading in 2023, Randy!

>3 RandyMetcalfe: Thanks for reminding me of W.G. Sebald. I haven't read any yet, but I do want to read his books.

2. The Sleeping Car Porter by Suzette Mayr

Not everything that you see on a sleeping car of the fastest intercontinental train in 1929 should be seen. Baxter has been a Porter on such a train for a while, long enough to have earned enough demerits that his position is constantly at risk. You can earn demerits for seeing things and for not seeing things. But when you’ve gone more than 48 hours without sleep tending to passengers, some of things you see are of your own making. Blink and sometimes they will disappear. But what about the illicit postcard Baxter has found in the WC? Is it real or unreal? And what difference will that make if having it in his possession leads to his dismissal and the loss of his dream of going to dental school?

Suzette Mayr paints a marvellously surreal portrait of the sleep-deprived Baxter as his struggles with his obligations and his desires and the very real consequences of extended lack of sleep. His charges on his car are all extreme in one way or another. Mayr makes his anxiety palpable. But also his genuine care for many of his charges, such as the grieving young child, Esme. It’s impossible not to feel that Baxter is hurtling toward his doom, both personally and professionally as he crosses the country. And yet, Mayr catches a resilience in him that may ultimately signal the possibility of hope.

Despite the sleepiness of her protagonist, you won’t find your eyelids drooping as you read the gorgeous, poetic prose that Mayr conjures.

Easily recommended.

3. Disorientation by Elaine Hsieh Chou

Ingrid Yang’s Ph.D. dissertation on the poetry of Xiao-Wen Chou is going slowly. She’s in her eighth year of the graduate program at Barnes University. She is on the verge of turning 30. She has a wedding to plan with her fiancé. She’s addicted to antacid tablets. And oh, yeah, she may have just discovered that the most revered Chinese-American poet ever, in whose research archive she has been toiling for years, might not be who he claims to be.

At times funny, at times serious, this campus novel captures the desperation of the young scholar writing an interminable dissertation. But Ingrid’s discovery is about to blow the roof off of both her field of study and her institution. She’s a bit conflicted about that, but given her myriad other internal conflicts surrounding race, sex, family, and, y’know stuff, it’s just part of the package.

There are set pieces here that are very funny and well-constructed even if the overall arc of the story feels contrived. There is a variability in tone and subject matter that makes the writing seem uneven. As though the novel has been written over a very long period with the input of too many readers perhaps. Or maybe it’s just that Chou simply has too much to say. Certainly she seems to have thought long and hard about racial identity in America. You could well imagine her writing a very different novel on the same themes.

And maybe it’s just me, but the central characters — Ingrid and her best friend Eunice — seem more like adolescents, both emotionally and in where their interests lie outside of the university, and also in some of their actions. Or maybe I’m just old now and young people in their late twenties are really like this.

In any case, there were certainly parts of this novel that I enjoyed and other parts that hit (almost too) close to home. I look forward to whatever Chou ends up writing next.

Gently recommended.

4. Dr. No: a novel by Percival Everett

A lot of people think that academics know nothing. In Professor Wala Kitu’s case it’s literally true. He’s the leading expert on nothing, a field of mathematics so niche it’s nonexistent. Professor Kitu’s expertise has become the focus of the villainous John Sill. In a grand act of revenge, he plans on doing nothing to America itself. Only Professor Kitu can stop his dastardly plan. Along with the beautiful and brilliant Professor Eigen Vector and his lovable one-legged bulldog, Trigo, Walu has to plow through a whole lot of stuff (including chases and shark-filled pools!) to get to nothing. Well, that’s something, at least.

Percival Everett’s mathematically inclined prose is both brilliant and consistent. It makes this an absolute treat for someone like me to read, though I can well imagine it not working for everyone.

Very easy to recommend.

>12 RandyMetcalfe: sounds like one I’d love 😀

You got me with The Sleeping Car Porter, it sounds both original and a bit trippy. Thanks for the review!

5. The Paris Apartment: a novel by Lucy Foley

Paris. A huge apartment in a posh neighbourhood. The perfect refuge when things go sour over in England. Sometimes it’s useful to have an older half-brother. But where is he? Jess is alone in her brother’s apartment in Paris and getting desperate. Ben is missing and she fears that something has happened to him. Meanwhile, the other inhabitants of the apartment building are all curiously hostile. Is it her? Or was it Ben? She’s got to find him.

Lucy Foley keeps her readers guessing as she juggles a host of characters all with motive and opportunity. She feeds information like crumbs to les petits oiseaux. Jess is engagingly feisty yet vulnerable. But her troubled youth can in no way prepare her for the nest of vipers she now finds herself among. Her allies are usually not quite what they seem. So it looks like she will have to rely on herself. As usual.

Very enjoyable even for those not particularly keen on this genre. Recommended.

6. Lessons in Chemistry: a novel by Bonnie Garmus

Elizabeth Zott is a chemist. Which doesn’t always sit well with the men with whom she is forced to work, either at graduate school or in a research laboratory. They are, almost universally, despicable. So the most improbable event that occurs is that she ends up bumping into another brilliant chemist, Calvin Evans, who sees her for what she is — a chemist. Love is a chemical reaction, in this case, and their love is regarded with jealousy and resentment by their colleagues. (As noted, they are, almost universally, despicable.) Unfortunately events transpire. They would! Soon Elizabeth finds herself out of a job, nearly penniless, and alone. Well…not alone, because she’s got their faithful dog, Six-Thirty, and soon they will be joined by her…daughter? Yes, a surprising legacy from Calvin. Who knew that raising an infant could be so much work. Every woman ever! Fortunately, Elizabeth knows that change is the essence of all chemical reactions. And so she effects to change her situation, with the help of a kind neighbour, Harriet, and a few men who, against the odds, also aren’t despicable.

If you don’t get incredibly angry on Elizabeth’s behalf due to what happens to her, then you aren’t reading the right novel. But you will also laugh and sigh and be amazed that some of the people she encounters are so kind. And though you might fear for her eventual fate, you’ll just need to have a bit of faith that things will work out in the end.

Of course a story like this one is plot driven, but it is also rich with witty asides and wonderfully eccentric characters. A bit Dickens-like, I suppose. Like me, I’m guessing that as you read it you will already be looking forward to recommending it to a friend. As I am now.

Easily recommended.

7. Liberation Day: stories by George Saunders

Nine stories are collected here and each one is a gem. No less than you’d expect from George Saunders. His distinctive voices are perfectly pitched even if the person speaking is ghoul #2. But it is the inner voices of his characters that so totally capture their character, as in, “The Mom of Bold Action,” or “Mother’s Day.” He also specializes in a certain kind of dystopia, as in the title story, “Liberation Day,” “Ghoul,” or “Elliott Spencer.” He is a writer of character, or rather moral character, so it is no surprise to find these stories delving either directly or metaphorically into deep issues such the nature of freedom, the finitude of our existence, or the pilfering of coffee packs in a workplace. But with his gentle humanist heart, it’s also probably understandable that he might be in despair over the state of his nation in recent years.

So easy to recommend.

8. Novelist as a Vocation by Haruki Murakami

It is always fascinating to get a glimpse of an author’s method, the practical steps that he or she takes in order to write a novel. And it’s equally intriguing, though perhaps less useful, to hear an author’s opinions as to how he or she thinks they became the writer they did. Those interested in these matters will get their fill here. From about the age of 30, Haruki Murakami, has been a full-time novelist. He takes a very workmanly approach to his vocation, with a set routine during the drafting period for a new novel. That includes running for an hour a day. Early to bed and early to rise. A daily word count quota that he always meets and, by choice, does not exceed. A brief pause after completing the first draft and then right back at it to substantially rewrite things in the second draft. Everything goes through three or more drafts before he feels it is ready for his first reader to read. And his first reader is always his wife.

What was the early preparation that led to Murakami becoming a novelist? He really only identifies reading as his essential preparation. As a youth he read constantly. He read everything. And he even, unlike his high-school peers, struggled to read books in English. But in most other things he was just an ordinary young man. He didn’t do terribly well in school. He wasn’t an athlete (his running regimen didn’t begin until he was in his thirties). And he didn’t always dream of being a writer. It was just something he convinced himself he should try when he was 29.

The weaker chapters in this book all involve Murakami attempting to grapple with issues in (Japanese) society or in the publishing world. To be fair, he is a novelist, not an academic and not a social pundit. Feel free to gloss over those chapters. Soon enough you will be back to Murakami sitting in the outfield on the opening day of baseball season and suddenly being struck by the conviction that he could write a novel. So immediately after the game he went and bought a notepad and a new fountain pen. And then he did just that.

Gently recommended for fans of Murakami or those interested in writer’s methods.

9. Still Life by Sarah Winman

In breathtaking fashion, we catch our first glimpse of our principal characters as the allied army makes its way toward Florence in 1944. Middle-aged Evelyn Skinner, the youthful Ulysses Temper, and the dashing Captain Darnley. One way or another we follow Ulysses and Evelyn across the days and years, decades even, always with Florence in mind and quietly in the background, the doomed Captain. There is so much life and happenstance and a host of other characters in play that you might be swept away in what seems an almost fanciful tale of visions and high-risk bets and the full spectrum of life and love. Also a Shakespearean parrot! Thankfully we return before the end to a lengthy view of the young Evelyn, at 21, on her first visit to Florence and the blossoming of her life.

I didn’t want it to end.

Easy to recommend.

10. The Trees: a novel by Percival Everett

Strange things are happening in Money, Mississippi. Two descendants of the men who lynched Emmett Till have been brutally murdered and mutilated. And each time a dead black man was found at the scene. The same dead black man. And it doesn’t take long before someone notices that he looks rather a lot like Emmett Till. What in the world is going on?

In blistering fashion, Percival Everett takes on the history of lynching in America. It is gruesome, both the history and his archly comic response. But since there is a mystery at hand, it needs investigating. Everett takes us along with his two black Special Detectives and later a black, female, FBI agent as they try to piece together what has happened. However, the problem is that things are about to get completely out of hand. What started out as a crime is blossoming into a full-blown metaphysical application of justice.

The best of this novel is the first half (apart from Everett’s trademark gags that continue to appear even in the latter half). At some point, however, the story seems to almost get away from its author. And once metaphysical justice gets out of the box, there seems to be no way to rein it in. You will laugh at times at Everett’s almost juvenile puns and plays on words. At other times you will be utterly appalled, the latter due to the actual history of race in America. And there’s just no way that is going to end well even in a comic novel.

Recommended.

11. Beach Read by Emily Henry

January Andrews writes romance novels. August Everett writes literary fiction. Fate finds them at the beginning of the summer in adjacent beach houses staring at blank pages with hard deadlines ahead of them and a forest of emotional entanglement and confusion behind them. Worse, January has long had a crush on Gus whom she labelled her evil, sexy, writing nemesis back in the days they were in grad school together. And Gus has secretly also had a crush on January, the only classmate whose writing he felt merited critique back in those days. Once the initial frosty tension breaks, they settle on a plan to take up the other’s genre for the summer. Can Gus see through the bleakness of existence to write a romance? Can January get past her happy ever afters to see the meteor about to land on her protagonists? And can they avoid falling headfirst into their own love story and get their books written in time for their deadlines?

Emily Henry’s first foray into romance writing (after a number of successful YA novels) is at times sweet and often poignant. January is a lovely character burdened by some unwanted knowledge subsequent to the death of her father. Gus’ angst is a bit more vague, at least initially. Perhaps Henry could have just let them spark off each other until the romance caught fire. But she has set herself the challenge of a bet in which they will swap genres and compete to see who can finish their book first. That was always going to be a clunky setup and it is. Fortunately, nothing in the rest of the novel really depends on it. Instead we learn about January’s disappointment with her father and her recent long-term partner. And we learn that Gus is a far sadder figure than we could have imagined. They both deserve to have their faith in love and other people rewarded. And there, Emily Henry does not disappoint.

Gently recommended.

12. Bewilderment: a novel by Richard Powers

There is something terribly sad about the “Flowers For Algernon” story premiss — someone undergoes a procedure that enables him or her to reach unanticipated heights mentally, physically, or emotionally, and then events conspire to not just halt the gain but set in motion a regress to levels as low or even much lower than the outset. And yet, in a sense, it’s the story-arc for all of our lives.

Here, Richard Powers introduces us to Theo Byrne, astrobiologist, newly-widowed, raising his 9-year-old son, Robin, who is certainly on the spectrum. To avoid the questionable prescribed treatment of psychoactive drugs for such a young person, Theo arranges for his son to take part in an experimental neural-feedback therapy. But the unusual component in this case is that Robin will be able to use brain scans of his late mother as his baseline. The effect is both dramatic and unexpected. Robin begins to control his own emotions and this allows his powers of concentration to flourish. He progresses in leaps and bounds. And curiously, at least from Theo’s perspective, Robin begins to take on characteristics of his mother, Theo’s wife. It’s eerie.

However, recent years in America have not been kind to science or even to rational discourse. Much to Theo’s bewilderment, not only does the planned huge space telescope on which his work depends lose its funding, but so too does the experimental neural-feedback therapy that so helped his son. Where can that possibly lead?

Both predictable and overwhelmingly poignant. Robin’s plight is enough to drive the novel, but there is much more here.

So easy to recommend.

>22 RandyMetcalfe: thank you for this Review!

I've got three more Powers' to read before Bewilderment, then will have finished them ALL
for the February Challenge.

13. Orfeo: a novel by Richard Powers

Peter Els is a composer. It’s not what he always wanted or intended to be, but it does seem to be what he is. His connection to music and composition undergoes transformations over the years. His collaborations affect him intimately. And he experiences near-consistent disappointment. Thus the life of an avant-garde composer. But toward the end of his life he embarks on a new compositional exercise and this one is going to have huge ramifications.

Writing about music may be a lot like listening to a painting. Such writing most resembles other writing about music; in no instance should it be construed as a substitute for music. Which could make one wonder how much this failure of commensurability mirrors others when it comes to writing. Richard Powers certainly knows a thing or two about such frustrations.

For those who know a fair bit about music, composition, and especially composition in the 20th century, this novel will either be exhilarating or aggravating. For everyone else it may be tedious, I fear. I can’t say that I learned anything new about music through learning about Peter’s life. But his anguish is nonetheless poignant and telling. And I’ve got to hand it to Richard Powers for even attempting to craft a novel on this subject matter.

Gently recommended.

>24 RandyMetcalfe: A great review to add to February Author Challenge Powers thread!

14. Now Is Not The Time To Panic: a novel by Kevin Wilson

Art is dangerous. Or it can be in the right circumstances. Those circumstances arose in the small town of Coalfield in the summer of 1996. Awkward teenagers, Frances (a.k.a. ‘Frankie’) and Zeke, combine their artistic talents to create an enigmatic poster. Frankie pens the words and Zeke provides the illustration surrounding them. They seal their artistic union with their own blood and then, in Benjaminesque excess, use a photocopier to run off hundreds of copies. These they post around the town. And the effects are…startling. Because art really is dangerous. And their lives will be forever changed.

Kevin Wilson displays a positive belief in the power of art, or perhaps performance art. It is almost refreshingly youthful in its zeal. And though for both Frankie and Zeke the effects of their poster display are largely distressing (moreso for some others), they each gain something as well. Even if they aren’t ultimately responsible for everything that happens, they are also not wholly irresponsible. I suppose in this art mirrors life, or rather art is just another thing that happens and we are connected to all of it to a greater or lesser extent.

The story is told by Frankie and no doubt for this reason our sympathies always lie with her. Zeke is never fully formed as a teenager. So we also aren’t surprised to learn what underlay that instability later. Readers will no doubt divide on whether the enigmatic text of the poster resonates with them. For those whom it doesn’t, the many repetitions of it will perhaps grate. But it may nonetheless be understandable that for Frankie it becomes the mantra of her life.

Gently recommended.

15. Telephone: a novel by Percival Everett

Zach Wells is nearly as rocky as the fossils he investigates as a paleobiologist. Only his 12 year old daughter, Sarah, softens his heart even whilst she is destroying him at chess. When Sarah misses an obvious move in a chess game, Zach is surprised. Later that surprise turns to concern, then worry, and then his worst fears get realized. Sarah is diagnosed with a particularly aggressive form of Batten disease which will lead to dementia, loss of function, and death. Zach is not able to cope. And neither is his wife, Meg. Their future looks bleak.

Percival Everett takes his time revealing the multiple sources of Zach’s emotional ossification. In the end, it is surprising perhaps that he ever had a solid relationship with his wife. But Sarah is someone who always gives him a reason to go on. Until that reason begins to evaporate. Soon Zach is clutching at almost any reason and his need drives him to increasingly irrational actions. However, along with despair and dread, Percival Everett acknowledges the place of hope in our lives.

This is a beautifully written novel with exquisite pacing and anxiety-producing scenes. Its ending is nowhere near what I had anticipated. And yet it felt absolutely right.

Definitely recommended.

16. Nina Simone's Gum: A memoir of things lost and found

Inspiration can be highly particular. For Warren Ellis, the extraordinary musician in the band Dirty Three and long-time collaborator with Nick Cave, his personal musical journey may have begun on a night of clowns. He certainly followed a varied path from his Australian roots, across Europe, to eventually be in the audience when Dr Nina Simone performed her last concert in London. It’s not surprising that Dr Simone was one of Warren’s musical inspirations. But her gum? When he snagged it after the concert from where it had been stuck on the piano, he established a link with her that he would treasure for decades ahead. This says as much about Warren Ellis as it does about anything. But it also reveals a bit about how objects, even mundane objects, are transfigured by our associations.

This is a lovely, gentle book. It is just how his many fans think of Warren Ellis — a lovely, gentle man. He seems to be someone who throughout his life, has been compelled to travel the long road of the true artist, not fully knowing his destination other than it being at least one more step down the road. And what we find is that this too can be a good life. It’s not for everyone, but then nothing is. We can just be grateful that people like Warren are on his path.

Gently recommended to gentle souls everywhere.

17. The Queen's Gambit by Walter Tevis

Sex, drugs, and…rooks? In this rollicking thriller we follow Elizabeth Harmon, orphaned at 8, from her first taste of chess and tranquilizers at the orphanage, to youthful chess acclaim and astonishing success. With frequent bouts of self-doubt and equally frequent bouts of intense chess study, Beth traverses the dangerous chasms of adolescence, sexism, sexual awakening, addiction (to tranquilizers and later alcohol), and acclaim, to eventually take on the Soviet giants of the chess world. You’ll practically have to hold on to your hat given the pace of Beth’s rise but you’ll also be gripped with tension as she plays out her most significant games. You might even momentarily believe that you understand the import and impact of key moves. Don’t worry. Once you close the cover, you will quickly revert to being an absolute chess novice.

A fun read and easy to recommend to those up for a bit of castling.

18. The Burgess Boys: a novel by Elizabeth Strout

Events in childhood shape us for good or ill. His whole life, Bob Burgess has thought of himself as the boy who, at the age of 4, inadvertently killed his father. That thought comes with a fair degree of self-loathing and a substantial amount of just plain loathing from his siblings, his twin sister, Susan, and his older brother, Jim. Jim is now a famous and wealthy New York lawyer. Bob is also a lawyer in New York but he isn’t famous or wealthy. And Susan. Susan is sad and embittered by her life and the fact that her husband, Steve, abandoned her and their son, Zach, seven years previous. If this doesn’t sound like a recipe for a happy-families story, then try also mixing in the fact that Zach has just committed what appears to be a hate crime against recently arrived Somali refugees, who themselves undoubtedly find life utterly strange in Shirley Falls, Maine.

Perhaps only Elizabeth Strout could start with the above and turn it into a poignant story of love and reconciliation, of re-evaluation and realization, and varieties of forgiveness. It’s a hard story to read because you can’t help but be anxious for every one of these characters (even the self-regarding and often cruel Jim). But especially for Bob, who is so sweet and downtrodden that it is hard to even imagine him ever surfacing into his own life again.

If you’ve read other Elizabeth Strout novels, it’s likely you already know about the Burgess family. I came to this novel out of its order of publication, so it was especially nice to get a chance to fill in all the gaps in my understanding of some of Shirley Falls’ famous sons.

And like each of Elizabeth Strout’s other novels, this one is easy to recommend.

19. The Book That No One Wanted To Read by Richard Ayoade, illustrated by Tor Freeman

I don’t know whether Richard Ayoade’s highly ironic style of writing will appeal to children. Probably. It’s whimsical and (I think) often enchanting. And in this instance it has the good fortune to be paired with numerous delightful illustrations by Tor Freeman. I’m less certain about the readers-own-adventure aspect of the story in which Ayoade attempts to place the (child) reader as the driving force of the story. He also deploys telepathy as the MacGuffin through which the (child) reader communicates directly with the book it has found high on a library shelf. Well, okay, I guess.

The real test, however, is how young readers respond to this book. And the only way to find out is to let them read it. Which I’m glad to recommend that they do.

20. Amy and Isabelle: a novel by Elizabeth Strout

Isabelle Goodrow lives in a small cottage in Shirley Falls with her teenage daughter, Amy. Isabelle works as secretary to the head of the local mill. She longs for more, from him and from life itself. But her real concern is with and for her daughter. Yet her daughter is also filled with longing, and in the absence of better guidance bestows her affections on the substitute math teacher, Mr. Robertson. Both women are naive and vulnerable in their own way and their disappointments, when they arise, complicate their already entwined lives. Surviving this unbearably hot summer in Shirley Falls is hard to conceive. Surviving life itself is even harder.

Elizabeth Strout’s first foray into the lives of the denizens of Shirley Falls is a sprawling, sultry novel of awakenings. Young Amy is unprepared for the emotions and sexual yearning that she is about to encounter. But Strout suggests that none of the residents of Shirley Falls is prepared in any real sense for the events in their lives. Is unpreparedness the condition of all life? Perhaps. But more to the point is the differing ways in which each of responds to these contingencies. Both understanding and misunderstanding our closest and dearest. And yet somehow, for the most part, we muddle through.

Very easy to recommend.

21. Companion Piece: a novel by Ali Smith

Ali Smith writes so fluidly and with such verve that perhaps it’s natural for her to take on the immediacy of her situation in her writing. Not that she doesn’t tie the present to the past or even the distant past. Here, Covid restrictions link to abstruse border controls and other, more ancient, forms of control. And while there are markers of belonging in the present, there are also even more insidious markings of dis-belonging in the past. And also, not surprisingly, there are stories within stories.

Smith’s writing can feel utterly up to the minute as well being a bit timeless. It is always a pleasure to read her and an equal pleasure to recommend her to others.

Recommended.

22. West: a novel by Carys Davies

Cy Bellman has been captured by an idea. Giant beasts that just maybe wander beyond the fringe of civilization. The West. He determines that he must go see for himself. Despite the fact that he is leaving behind a 10 year old daughter, Bess. But how long will he be gone? And who will protect Bess in his absence?

This is a beautifully written short novel. Davies wonderfully evokes the single-minded obsession that often arose in the 19th century. But the real genius here is Bess, who must fend almost entirely for herself with many threats rising. Distasteful threats. Anxiety builds and, well. It’s a short novel, but don’t race to end. Just enjoy the beautiful writing.

Highly recommended.

23. On writing and failure, or, on the peculiar perseverance required to endure the life of a writer by Stephen Marche

Listen up, kid writers. Misery loves company. And since you say you want to be a writer, you must love misery. You are going to fail. A lot! And even if you sometimes don’t fail, you will feel like you have. But if you are really a writer, you are going to keep doing this failing, again and again, no matter what I or Stephen Marche say. So, good luck! You’ll need it. Oh, and herein you’ll also find lots of anecdotes about other writers, including very famous ones, who failed about as much you are about to.

Stephen March takes us on a misery tour of the writing life. It doesn’t sound all that appealing, but if you’ve decided to read this book, you probably think it sounds peachy. Heaven help us, you must be a writer. Remember, if it doesn’t work out for you, you can always write a book about how most every writer fails.

Gently recommended for writers; no one else needs it.

24. Everyone Knows Your Mother Is A Witch by Rivka Galchen

What a curious, yet delightful novel. Katharina Kepler is an elderly widow. She is the mother of the noted astronomer, Johannes Kepler. She is kind to neighbours and to cows. Yet her kindness is rewarded with envy, aggression, and calumny. She is accused of witchcraft. The charge, of course, is a nonsense spurred on by a grasping desire to make a profit off her pain. Despite the absurdity of the charge, Katharina, her children, her neighbour, Simon, and others must fight the charge for nearly all the remaining years of her life.

Katharina is a wonderful character, gentle and wise, despite her lack of schooling. But she lives in a world that is fallen. Wars, both secular and religious, sweep across the land. Plague regularly breaks out. The plague of ignorance is even more virulent. What is most surprising, perhaps, then is that Katharina remains the kind, gentle person she has always been.

Rivka Galchen found something in the historical record that inspired her fictional account of Katharina’s troubles. But it is her genius that paints this picture with humour and grace and a willingness to be generous to the disappointment that some people bring into the world. It’s a most unusual subject for a novel, yet it totally works.

Gently recommended.

25. The Mission House: a novel by Carys Davies

Transformation comes in many forms. For Hilary Byrd, it begins when he reaches the high hills in India where an old mission house will become his lodging for a time. Life in Petts Wood, UK, has been a disappointment. As has he, he imagines. But others are also in the process of transformation. His auto-rickshaw driver’s nephew, Ravi, is transforming himself into a country and western singer, one piece of apparel at a time. And malformed Priscilla, who is missing her thumbs and has one leg shorter than the other, is becoming someone desirable and desired, and possibly also a country and western singer. But more things are changing than any of them know and even if transubstantiation is not an option, there are still opportunities for sacrifice.

Carys Davies writes of a modern India that has been utterly shaped over decades more than two centuries earlier by the British. It too is now misshapen , so much so that even plant species commonly thought to be native (e.g. eucalyptus) are in fact merely an invasive species which sprouted from seeds inadvertently carried in a soldier’s backpack. Davies writes beautifully. So much so, that even if the central figures and locale of the story are not of immediate interest, you will find yourself swept along.

Gently recommended.

26. Shy: a novel by Max Porter

Shy is a troubled youth. He is either way too high or way too low. And often the transitions are accompanied by violence or other unsocial behaviour. So perhaps it is no surprise that Shy is now living at a boarding school for youths like him, rather too obviously named Last Chance. But despite the attentions of the staff, Shy’s behaviour remains volatile. And frankly it’s all just getting too much for him. He thinks he sees a way out, but it’s not necessarily a good choice.

Max Porter is a brave writer who takes on challenging subjects and equally challenging protagonists. Whether he fully succeeds or not, you can’t help but be impressed. Although it’s almost impossible to warm up to Shy, Porter somehow draws us into Shy’s predicament.

Gently recommended, but do steel yourself first.

>16 RandyMetcalfe: In keep hearing good things about this book. Guess I'll have to pick up a copy.

27. White Cat, Black Dog: stories by Kelly Link

The seven stories in this collection range from uncanny to weird to fantasy, with a touch of sci fi thrown in as well. Most of Link’s stories sound like fables or tall tales. “Prince Hat Underground,” for example, is quest story set in the nether regions. Character, in such stories, are generally broadly brushed with secondary characters receiving only enough detail to allow them to perform their functional role in the plot. Nevertheless, Link usually is able to gain some level of subtlety and even wry humour.

I think I like, “The Lady and the Fox,” best, but I was not disappointed by any of the stories.

Gently recommended.

28. Snow Road Station: a novel by Elizabeth Hay

Those familiar with Elizabeth Hay’s “His Whole Life” will recognize most of the characters in “Snow Road Station.” This story, however, is set in 2008, more than 10 years after the earlier novel. And its principal focus is the actress, Lulu Blake. Lulu is an aging actress whose career has been modest. It may now be coming to an end. On the pretext of a long weekend and a wedding invitation, she escapes Ottawa and her disappointing performance of Beckett’s “Happy Days,” and heads to the small town of Snow Road Station. There her brother still lives as well as her friend Nan. It is Nan’s son, Blake, who is due to get wed. But the situation is fraught. Old loves, simmering resentments, hopes and fears, and, yes, new loves make their way onto the stage.

Lulu is a wonderful character and well worth a novel of her own. She is radiant here, full of zest and fire. It’s impossible not to admire how she stands up for herself even in the face of some despicable men. (There are, however, some nice men present as well, which is a relief.) Hay is swift and incisive in capturing Lulu’s many moods, but she is perhaps more enamoured by the forests deep in snow during Lulu’s visit. Or perhaps she has difficulty deciding which she loves more. Fair enough.

It is easy to recommend this novel to readers familiar with Hay’s earlier work. But you will not be disappointed if this is your first encounter with Hay. It is not a mere sequel. Plus you’ll have the immense pleasure of looking forward to Elizabeth Hay’s entire back catalogue, which you will want to take up immediately.

29. The Answer to Everything: a novel by Elyse Friedman

Framed as a young journalist’s attempt to tell the story of an unspecified traumatic event that had it all: “sex and drugs (not the regular kinds), multiple deaths (untimely, natch), rich folks and rituals and loads o’ lawsuits — even a celebrity cherry on top.” The central figures are a blissed-out busker named Eldrich, a university psychology student named Amy, and John, an artist with almost no scruples who initiates a relationship with Amy but soon realizes that Eldrich has more potential for transformation. With John as principle manipulator it isn’t long before Eldrich is presented as a New-Age guru whose following grows and grows. Even if it weren’t flagged on the opening page of the novel, it seems almost inevitable that this was always a disaster waiting to happen.

By rotating through the three principles’ points of view, Friedman gains breadth but loses depth. Even Amy, who probably ought to be the most relatable person, is opaque. And this creates a problem for what the story is ultimately about. It doesn’t seem to really be about these characters. Which makes it therefore seem to be primarily about the looming disaster. But that’s not really such an interesting subject.

Nevertheless, I’m sure Friedman had fun writing the acerbic John and the very odd Eldrich. And some of the minor characters, such as Phil, are endearing. You won’t find this to be the answer to everything, but it may help pass the time until the answer comes along.

30. The Idiot: a novel by Elif Batuman

Selin is a Turkish-American in her first year at Harvard. She is privileged (though perhaps not as privileged as some of her peers), brilliant in her way (very much like most of her peers), curious, naive, and open to possibility. Her eclectic course selections, including math, philosophy of language, linguistics, and introductory Russian provide lots of opportunity for her to feel lost but also plenty of fodder for learning about life, or at least what passes for life at Harvard. The one subject for which she is least well equipped is, not surprisingly perhaps, herself. She will constantly be confounded, anxious, and emotionally in turmoil as she lives and learns and grows over the course of the following year.

Selin’s enthusiasm for life is infectious but can at times be tiring. Fortunately she is surround by equally quirky and compelling friends. There is Ivan, with whom she forms an oblique relationship. But most interesting to me was her friend Svetlana. She is irrepressible. And you can’t help feeling as you read that Selin would be much better suited directing her romantic energies towards Svetlana, whether reciprocated or not. By comparison, Ivan comes across as a bit creepy.

The writing here is episodic and lively, full of observation and humour. Despite the potential for catastrophe that Selin seems to court, she wanders through her own life and across half the globe in an almost charmed air. Which of course marks this as the romance that it is. And will keep you reading even if you don’t fully identify with any of the characters or their situations. You’ll want to keep on with Selin past the end of her first year at Harvard and will no doubt be delighted to learn that Batuman’s second novel picks up where this one leaves off. As I am.

Recommended.

31. Mrs Death Misses Death by Selena Godden

What is death? A better question would be, “Who is death?” Because in this novel death is a middle-aged black woman making her way in London, overlooked, unloved, and always, seemingly, present. Wolf has met her before, when he was just a child. But on that occasion she came for his mother. Amidst smoke and fire. As his mother was desperately trying to wake him up, screaming for him to run. To run! It sounds like the worst thing that could happen to a young boy, but maybe ending up with his mother’s parents was even worse. Of course eventually Mrs Death came for them too. Which was no bad thing. Wolf’s relationship with death or Death is unusual but it’s not as though any of us will be able to miss her when she comes for us.

Selena Godden creates a wonderfully sympathetic character in Wolf. But he is not merely a victim. He is also a poet and his view on life and death is singular. Do his conversations with Mrs Death take place solely within his own mind, or is she real? Both are true, perhaps. Mrs Death tells Wolf at least some of her story. The best bits being when she relates a specific death she has been party to, such as the tale of the 19th century temptress, Tilly Tuppence. Her tales and Wolf’s own progression to worsening mental health and eventual (possible) relief at writer’s retreat are interspersed with poems. These are mostly doggerel of a lyrical sort which you could imagine being set to music. It creates a bit of a hodgepodge. But a strangely compelling one.

It might not work for you. But then again, it just might.

Very gently recommended.

32. Ayoade on Top by Richard Ayoade

This is a reread. I first read “Ayoade on Top” more than two years ago. At that time I had not seen, nor did I have access to, the film “View From The Top” (VFTT). A hyper-detailed ironic critique of a cultural object that one has not directly experienced is a challenging comedic environment. Yet Richard Ayoade, perhaps not surprisingly, was up to the task. I found the book, back then, to be hilarious good fun.

Recently I had the opportunity to view VFTT. I watched it with someone who also had read Ayoade’s book without having seen the film. People overuse and misuse the term “surreal” these days. But watching this movie was very close to surreal for me. Because it rapidly became evident that Ayoade’s analysis had to have been based on a near frame-by-frame study of the film. His descriptions matched the film exactly and his ironic commentary in his book could be recalled almost verbatim even as the movie played out. It was like having a DVD commentary running in your ear while watching the film. So strange!

Of course I was prompted to reread Ayoade’s book. It was just as fresh and hilarious as the first time I read it, which is rare for such books. And this time I was more able to see that Ayoade’s affection for the film, despite its obvious failings, comes from real empathy with some of the characters. And perhaps a genuine longing that this cultural object live up to the hopes one might naturally place in those with whom one identifies.

But it’s also still very funny! And still recommended.

33. Shortcomings by Adrian Tomine

Ben Tanaka is a lapsed film studies grad student who runs a cinema on campus. He is anxious, angry, a bit self-hating, and conflicted about his desires, personal and sexual. Ben’s girlfriend, Miko, puts up with his unsupportive contribution to their relationship but her patience is wearing thin. His best friend, Alice Kim, is a grad student (they met as undergrads). She has her own issues. Her friendship with Ben is frank and, mostly, honest. She tells him when he is being an idiot, and he does his best to return the favour. Despite the ups and downs of their separate amorous relations, it is the friendship of Ben and Alice that persists.

This short graphic novel is both acerbic and sentimental. Ben is a difficult protagonist. Although he longs for love and sympathy, he seems, despite his age, emotionally stunted and immature. If it weren’t for Alice, who clearly sees something worthy of friendship in Ben, we might be inclined to give up on him. And it will take some serious growth for him also to not give up on himself.

Tomine’s graphic style is spare and patient but it is his characters’ self-scrutiny that stands out.

Gently recommended.

>16 RandyMetcalfe: I keep seeing this appear on everyone's reading list. I guess I'll have to find a copy and see for myself what the buzz is...

34. I Am Not Sidney Poitier: a novel by Percival Everett

Not Sidney’s mother was a strange, intense woman whom he believed to be crazy. His mother certainly had strange views as well as naming practices, but what she had even more of was an uncanny skill at investing. When Not Sidney becomes an orphan at the age of 11, he is almost uncountably and unaccountably wealthy. Fortunately, perhaps, media magnate Ted Turner had taken a shine to Not Sidney’s mother and so Not Sidney Poitier came to live on his estate in Atlanta. It’s like a strange Dickensian fairy tale. Except it gets far stranger since Not Sidney grows up to look surprisingly like Sidney Poitier. And that has ramifications that can’t quite be calculated.

Percival Everett’s crazy idea for this novel is almost crazy enough to have been originated by Professor Percival Everett, the character, who teaches a course on the Philosophy of Nonsense. That probably says as much as you need to know about what you might encounter here. Except to say that along with the whimsical oddness, there is plenty of action as well. Indeed, a great deal of it is surprisingly similar to the action of a number of Sidney Poitier’s famous films. Just hold on to your hat and go along for the ride.

Easy to recommend.

Hoping you are having a wonderful Thanksgiving Weekend, Randy.

>49 PaulCranswick: I did. Thanks, Paul!

35. Witch King by Martha Wells

From the first moments that Kai regains consciousness, his focus on finding his friends and/or avenging them is relentless. Almost demonic, except of course he is a demon so that’s stating the obvious. First he must find and rescue Ziede, the witch, with whom he shares a special bond, and then together they must find Tahren, her wife. And at some point they have to figure out what has happened in the world since conspirators managed to imprison them, and how long in fact has that been? For immortal (or nearly immortal) demons, it might have been a long time. Clearly along with some heavy plot points ahead there is going to have to be some broader explanation of just what kind of world we are in as readers. Almost exactly what you would expect from such a fine word craftsperson as Martha Wells.

Kai is an intriguing being, as an under earth demon inhabiting a mortal host. Of course his history has lent him special traits that aren’t typically associated with demons in this world. Ziede is equally fascinating as her powers are more elemental (she controls wind spirits or devils). And Tahren, whom we travel far to meet is of another kind altogether being one of the immortal blessed.

This is fine writing and world building. It’s easy to fall in step with Kai and Ziede and the characters who share their quest for a time. Indeed, although it is billed as a standalone novel, I think you will, as I do, hope that Kai and Ziede’s story continues in some form in the future.

Recommended.