Sixth Day: Book Pick of the Year

I don’t have a book of the year for 2012. There is no clear winner, so I declare no winner.

How do I judge this? Books that are books of the year, should pop instantly to the top of the mind as books that have stayed with me. They roll around in the mind and come back at odd moments. I remember the characters and think about them. None of the books I read this year stand out as that memorable. When I looked through the pages of my reading journal (kept since 1993, now in its fourth volume) for 2012, I found books I remembered and nodded, yes, that was an enjoyable read. But none got in my head  like my pick for last year, Room.

Maybe Room was one of those extraordinary books that just gets in your head and stays there, and maybe that doesn’t happen every year. Maybe I should go easier on the books I read this year. I did get pretty distracted at the end of this year with the moving and doing NaNoWriMo and a bunch of other things in November. In this spirit, here is a list of books read in 2012 that I passed on to others. None of them are my pick of the year. There just isn’t one.

1. Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber. I hesitated before putting this book on this list. I read it in 2012 and purged it from my library in 2012. I was disappointed by it. When I was in the process of moving, I took about 10 boxes of books with me to a Sr. High/College fall retreat at camp. I announced there were free books, and a hoard descended upon the boxes and picked through them. One young woman asked me for recommendations. I spotted Weber’s book, looked at the person, then said “I think you’ll like this book. I didn’t, but I think you will.” And she did. I passed it on to someone who liked it better than I did.

2. Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel. I’ve not given this to anyone in particular, but I’ve certainly recommended it many times at the bookshop where I work. Stayed in my head for the first part of the year. Looking forward to the sequel. Not quite pick-of-the-year stickiness though.

3. The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis. I’ve used this as my pick of the month at the bookshop where I work, and also recommended it there. I will be reading this again. I think it takes a while to digest.

4. The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova. Gave away for Christmas. Doesn’t make pick of the year because I’d forgotten about it until I saw it in a bookshop and then it all came flooding back. Jumped on it, bought it, gave it away. I hope 1Mom enjoys it.

5. In the Bleak Mid-Winter by Julia Spencer-Fleming. Read it, realized we should sell it at the bookshop where I work, recommended it to my manager. Both the store manager and the customer service manager are now hooked on the series. Score.

Do you have a pick of the year? Did any book stick in your head as a stand out for the year?

A time to speak and a time to be silent

For today, a list of links that may be thought-provoking.

1. Roger Ebert on violence in media.

2. A post on irony which suggests that many of us, not just hipsters, have forgotten how to take life seriously. How do we discern when to be ironic and when not to be ironic? (Also, some people who write songs don’t know what irony actually is.) I plan to think some more about this and possibly write a whole post about it.

3. And finally, in honour of AMom and her many gingerbread architectural wonders over the years, some literary gingerbread houses.

Authors I’ve discovered This Year

Sometimes I discover an author, then proceed to read the author’s entire backlist. This year, there are a few authors I’ve discovered. I’ll talk about three today.

1. Haruki Murakami. I heard 1Q84 was really good, so I made a note to read it. Before I read 1Q84, though, I read Sputnik Sweetheart, mostly because of the title. Sputnik. I’m an aerospace engineer, what can I say? Anyhow, I quite enjoyed SS, so kept looking for 1Q84, and finally decided to borrow it from the library on ebook. This worked well. I was only on the waiting list for a couple of days. I really enjoyed 1Q84. Now I’m on the look-out for Murakami whenever I go to used bookstores.

2. Julia Spencer-Fleming. This is a pretty recent discovery. I’d heard of Spencer-Fleming before in lists of clergy mysteries, that is mystery series that have a clergy person as a main character. When I was moving, I decided to get a couple of audio books from the library so that I had some listening material while I packed and unpacked and organized. Spencer-Fleming’s first book In the Bleak Mid-Winter was available as an audio book. I picked it up as I’d heard of the author, plus, as a bonus, it was the first book in the series. I like starting things at the beginning. I quite enjoyed listening do In the Bleak Mid-Winter, told the manager at the bookshop where I work about the series, and now we stock them! And I read book two! And I’m going to read more!!

3. Robertson Davies. Some of you may think that as a Canadian who reads voraciously I should have discovered Robertson Davies long ago. I think it was the beard that put me off. Anyhow, I got over that. I wrote about my discovery of Davies in this a blog post earlier this year. I’ve now read two sets of three books by Davies, the Deptford trilogy and the Salterton trilogy. Coming up: the Cornish trilogy.

What about you? What authors have you discovered this year?

Recommended Reading?

A few years ago the Telegraph published a list of 100 novels everyone should read. Of these 100, I’ve read 15, own 4 with the intent of reading them, am actively interested in finding a copy of about 4 others, and have no intention at all of reading 2. My question is, why should everyone read these novels? What makes this the definitive list? Why should everyone read certain books?

I think part of the answer to why we continue to make lists of books everyone should read is the idea(l?) of a common culture. If we have stories in common, we will know how to talk with one another. Previously, the Bible provided a common fund of stories and proverbs and phrases that most people knew and could refer to. In our 21st century culture are literary novels and the always-debated canon of western literature replacing the Bible? Perhaps required reading lists only add to the Bible. Now we have even more to know.

Do you pay attention to these lists? Why or why not?

If I were to make a list of 100 novels everyone should read, I’d probably include many of the 15 books I’ve read that are on the Telegraph’s list. I’m not quite decided about The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I think my list might have more Canadians on it. I’d probably throw in Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay. Margaret Atwood is already on the list (Handmaid’s Tale), but Robertson Davies needs to make an appearance. I’m sure there are others. I think I’d add Harry Potter to the list. Potter has shifted the way people think about children’s literature, and whether you think that is good or bad, the fact is that Rowling’s books are a cultural phenomena. If we read for shared stories, everyone should read Potter.

What about you? What books would you include in your 100 novels everyone should read?

So far this year

Since I finished a volume of “The List” last week, this might be an appropriate time to update you on my reading so far this year. I’ve finished 33 books, which means I’m on target to read 120 this year — that’s a book every three days or so, 10 per month. My progress toward the goal has been fairly steady, though March was a bit slower than some other months. I did manage to catch up at the beginning of April.

7 of the 33 books I’ve read have been non-fiction. Three of the non-fiction books are worth mentioning here – The Last Divine Office by Geoffrey Moorhouse, Why Narrative? edited by Stanley Hauerwaas and L. Gregory Jones, and A Pathway into the Holy Scripture edited by Philip E. Satterthwaite and David F. Wright. The Last Divine Office is about a bit of England I don’t know much about, and gave a different view of the dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VIII than I’ve read before. Reading it made me want to visit Durham Cathedral. The book itself isn’t a particularly well-written history, but I was fascinated by the subject matter. Why Narrative? is a collection of key texts on narrative theology. I chose this book as my Pick-of-the-Month in the bookshop where I work. The Famous Chaplain, whose office is down the hall from the bookshop, came through one day, picked up Why Narrative?  and announced that this was the best book ever as a starting point for learning about narrative theology. I have to agree with him. I’m sad I didn’t read the book earlier in my theological career. I’m also sad that I didn’t read A Pathway into the Holy Scripture earlier in my theological career. This is a nice collection of essays on biblical studies that I’ve had sitting on my shelf for at least 12 years. I dipped into it before, but reading them through was very interesting. I particularly appreciated the metaphors in I. Howard Marshall’s essay on Biblical and Systematic Theology.

If 7/33 books I’ve read have been non-fiction, that means the other 26 books have been fiction. Elsewhere in this blog I noted that I began reading Robertson Davies. In addition to Davies, the literary books I’ve read are Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel (about Henry VIII, who has been a featured character in my reading this year), The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis (a reflection on life after death told as a dream-story), and The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides (though my friends have been loudly debating whether this book is literature or pop-fiction with no staying power). 11 of the fiction books have been mysteries, which are my favoured form of brain candy. One of the mysteries also features Henry VIII, Sovereign by C.J. Sansom. That is one of the best mysteries I’ve read so far this year. Of course I really really liked Death Comes to Pemberley by P.D. James, but I’m afraid Sovereign wins on plot twists. The rest of my reading has been fantasy, short story collections, and science fiction. Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman is the stand-out of those books.

What have you read so far this year? Any recommendations?

Seasonal Books 3: Bridget Jones’s Diary

Ah Bridget, what would New Year’s Resolutions be without you and your fine example? How could we think of ringing in another year without revisiting the Turkey Curry Buffet? Bridget Jones’s Diary, either the movie version or the book (in my opinion they are equally good) is quintessential holiday fare, especially for the single female.

BJD is a great read and re-read partially because of Helen Fielding’s adept use of language. I’m always in slight awe of the consistent tone of the diary — Fielding does not break cover. I’ve read all of Fielding’s books — there are only four — and I think BJD is the best of them. Part of this is the consistent tone and the interesting family plots, but there are also interesting literary references throughout the book. The most obvious references are to Jane Austen and Pride and Prejudice. The casting of the movie with Colin Firth as Mark Darcy is beyond brilliant. (Also note that the writer for the BBC production of Pride and Prejudice is also on the writing team for the movie version of BJD.) There is another literary reference that I wonder about. I wonder where Fielding got the name Bridget Jones to begin with. Henry Fielding (1707-1758) wrote a novel called Tom Jones, which has a key character called Bridget. H. Fielding – X Jones. Hmm. No one has commented on this in print as far as I can see. Most people just ooh and ah at the layers of meta-fiction between Bridget and P&P both print and movie versions.

Apparently Helen Fielding spawned the “Chick Lit” genre single-handedly with the publication of BJD. I’d have to do a bit more research to find out whether that assessment is actually true. It is interesting that no-one has a genre category for books like About A Boy when it is (in my mind anyway) very much like BJD but with a male lead instead of a female lead. I’ve been trying to think of a gender-neutral genre label that has the same sort of snap that “Chick Lit” has, but have been thus far unsuccessful. Still thinking. Any suggestions?

Sunday Lists: The Wonders of Wiki

This week I debated writing a list of my own for Sunday, but then found a lovely meta-list on wikipedia – a list of book lists! How could I resist exploring then sharing. The meta-list provides lots of exploring options. This is what I found interesting at first glance:

1. A list of bagpipe books. Who knew?

2. A list of fiction set in Toronto. Local Literature!!

3. Two lists to argue with. The first is a list of the 100 most influential books ever written. This list was compiled and published by a male person in 1998. It contains three (3) female authors. That’s 3%. Then there’s the interestingly titled list, Literary Taste: How to Form it. One forms literary taste by reading the authors on the list. This list was first compiled in 1909, then updated in 1935, both times by a male person. The combined list contains (by my count) 360 authors, 26 of whom are female. That’s 7.2%. 65 years earlier than buddy with the 100 most influential books and his 3%. Now I realize that the point of the two lists is different, and the criteria used in compiling them is therefore different. But women certainly did not gain ground in the 65 years. At. All. Of course there are other things to argue with about the lists. Really? Are these the most influential books? How can you tell? On the literary taste side I find little to argue about as I haven’t read most of the books. Thus, I probably have not properly formed literary taste, and so cannot make a judgment. I HAVE read Jane Austen, and she’s on the literary taste list. Maybe there’s some hope.

True Confessions 2: More (Literary) Fiction I Haven’t Read

Last week I listed some (literary) fiction that I haven’t yet read. There’s loads more that I haven’t read and I thought of additions for that list during the week. I was reminded of some of these additions today while in a bookshop with my friend the Children’s Pastor. We discussed Charles Dickens (see below). Then I was at a memorial service for my aunt this afternoon and the preacher quoted John Donne. This made me think of all the poetry I haven’t yet read, but I think I’ll save the poetry list for next week. For now, More Literary Fiction I Have Not Yet Read.

1. Anything by Charles Dickens. Oh wait. I’ve read A Christmas Carol. But that is a short story, or a novella at best, and Dickens has so very many lovely long novels. How many have I read? None. Zero. Zilch. I feel guilty about this from time to time when I hear someone talking about how great Dickens is, or when I make a joke about one of his titles (usually A Tale of Two Cities), or when I look at the placemat I’ve got with a picture of the actual Old Curiosity Shoppe on it. I think I’ve got a copy of Bleak House somewhere about the house. I should find it and read it.

2. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. I’ve no desire to read this book. At. All. Thus I don’t feel any guilt about not reading it. I think I owned a copy once that someone gave me for Christmas thinking that because I like books I’d like that. Even then, long ago, I had no desire to read it. I’ve heard bits of a movie version but it mostly sounded like people yelling at each other and wind whipping across the heath. Uninteresting. But go ahead, try to change my mind.

3. Anything by Dostoevsky. I sort of implied this in my discussion of War and Peace last week, but feel it merits saying explicitly. Lots of people I know have read Dostoevsky (including the Street Pastor and the Norwegian) and recommend him highly, and apparently there’s loads of interesting theology in his books. I have a view of The Brothers Karamazov at work and this adds to the burden of not reading Dostoevsky. Plus the Archbishop of Canterbury has written a book about Dostoevsky. Surely if Rowan Williams thinks Dostoevsky is worthwhile, so should we all.

4. The Stone Angel by Margaret Laurence. Here I feel like I’m letting down Canadian Women. I’ve got a (dusty) copy of the book on my shelf, in the to-be-read area, but on a shelf with other to-be-read books which have been neglected this year. Also in this neglected zone are The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields, Son of Laughter by Frederick Buechner, Gilead by Marilynne Robinson etc. Now that I’ve reminded myself that this shelf exists, I should read some of those neglected titles.

5. Anything by Robertson Davies. Here I feel like I’m letting down the Canadian side entirely. I’ve got The Deptford Trilogy in one volume sitting on a more accessible to-be-read shelf, but it sits and looks at me sideways and I look back and don’t begin. I think I’m intimidated by the beard. And by the introverted walls of Massey College, where Davies was the Master. I walk by the Master’s Lodge at Massey and think how can I read his work? I need to get over the intimidation factor.

Watch for the Poetry I Haven’t Read list coming next Saturday. Oh the things yet to be read in the world.

True Confessions – A Saturday List

This week I decided to make a Saturday List in the spirit of the True Confessions listed when writing about P.D. James. I like books, but I find that people are constantly shocked by what I haven’t yet read. There’s such a lot to read! Here are my True Confessions about Books I Should Probably Read, But Haven’t Yet. (This is the Fiction Version of the list.)

1. War and Peace. A couple of years ago, my friend the Street Pastor and I challenged each other to read War and Peace because we both had a copy sitting on our shelves looking at us. The Street Pastor finished War and Peace. I didn’t. I started. I got through part one, then I decided to give myself a little break. Then the little break got a little longer. And pouf! the year vanished and I didn’t get further than part 1. Now War and Peace doesn’t just look at me from a shelf, it glares at me from my bedside table over the reading glasses of a bookmark. The thing is I liked part 1. I want to read the book. It just intimidates me with all the weightiness and seriousness of it. I’ve not read very many books in the Large Russian Novels category because of the intimidation factor. I read Anna Karenina, but that’s it. I need to get over this whole intimidation thing.

2. Anything by Michael Ondaatje. This horrifies my friend the Playwright who once had a cat called Ondaatje. I quite liked the movie version of The English Patient and realize that the book is probably better. I had a copy of In the Skin of a Lion that I cannot currently find. I’m sure it is somewhere in the stacks of books. I’ll find it, and I’m sure I’ll read Ondaatje someday. It just hasn’t happened yet.

3. Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood. I like Atwood’s books quite a lot and my friend the Peace Pastor thinks AG is one of her best. (I actually think the Peace Pastor likes it because there’s stuff about quilting in it.) I’ve got a copy, I started it once, but it just hasn’t stuck yet. I realize that timing has a lot to do with this. I’m worried that I’ve got a lot of expectations loaded onto the book and it just won’t live up to them. I need to stop worrying and just read the book.

4. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. Yes, I’ve read all the other Austen books, but not NA. Why? Why can’t I get over the fact that this is the last Austen book I can read and just do it? What am I saving it for? Am I being like Desmond on LOST carrying around the one Dickens book he hadn’t read so it can be the last book he reads? How will he/I know when to start reading? Too many questions. Clearly I’m a head case about this one.

5. Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. “What???” yelled my friend the Constant Reader and her brother the Linguist. “You do math! You haven’t read Alice? What’s wrong with you?” (I’ve summarized what they said.) I quite enjoyed the Tim Burton take on Alice at the movie theatre. I then picked up a copy of the books to read. Haven’t yet. Too many other lovely things in the To Be Read pile. Possibly the expectations around the book are factored into my procrastination here as with Alias Grace.

This is a short fiction version of Books I Should Probably Read, But Haven’t Yet. Look for a non-fiction version coming soon!

What books do you feel you should read but haven’t  yet? True confessions please.

Pride and Prejudice: An Acquired Taste

Now that I’ve listed 25 books I’ve read more than three times, I figure that gives me 25 blog posts right there. I’ll talk about each of the books. Just to keep you guessing, I won’t go in any particular order.

I’m going to start by talking about Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. (Obvious from the title possibly, but just to make sure we are all on the same page.) Let me be clear that I’m talking about the book here. Once, when I mentioned P&P aloud, someone said “Oh, I love Pride and Prejudice!” I asked, “When did you read the book?” “Oh, I haven’t read the book. But the movie is so great!” I mean the book. I read the book before I saw any of the movie versions. I say this not to be a book snob or anything, but because the movies changed how I saw the book, and in fact helped me read the book better.

The first time I read Pride and Prejudice it was tough sledding. I quit, I just couldn’t do it. Then I decided to try again. I can’t remember why, but I remember being quite determined, even in the middle of what seemed the Most Boring Book In The Universe, to get through it this time. Once I was on a streetcar with a colleague from work and he saw what I was reading. “I never finished that,” he said. “I just couldn’t see the point.” I was in one of my I-will-get-through-this-if-it-kills-me moods, or he might have put me off Austen forever. I finally finished P&P for the first time Nov 11, 1994. In my notes on that reading I said that it was “a bit dry at times.” I didn’t mean dry wit. I meant slow. My notes also indicate that I was pleased that I mostly followed the story this time as I’d totally lost the thread in the previous attempt.

After I saw the BBC series with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle several times (I taped it from the television on this old-fashioned technology called a VCR), I read the book again. I noticed more things this time because the movie helped me to see the writing differently. I was also reading differently because I was re-reading. I’ve now read P&P six times. I’ve watched the BBC adaptation more than 6 times, and I’ve seen the feature film with Keira Knightly as well. The adaptations are different, but both faithful to the book in interesting ways. Both highlighted things I’d overlooked in previous readings of the book.

In one of my more recent readings of P&P I noted that the book “gets better every time.” I think that this phenomena might be what C.S. Lewis was on about in his Experiment in Criticism. Books that not only hold up under a second reading, but are more enjoyed the more often read, are great literature.

Don’t be discouraged if you find some works that people tell you are Great Literature difficult at first. I have to remind myself of this as I look at the pile of books I want to read but found difficult and so stopped. Difficult at first might mean better second time around. Then even better every time after that.