2023, then. Already 6 weeks into the rear view mirror, and life is so chaotic right now it has taken me this long to write my yearly roundup. On the off chance that anyone is still interested, let’s dive in with some stats.
I read 106 books in 2023 which is a pretty big improvement on the year before and probably reflects that we weaned Oliver in the early part of the year and saw a distinct improvement in his sleep, which had the knock on effect of improving our sleep and creating a bit more time for reading. I also embraced a bit more ebook reading which makes it easier to squeeze it into spare moments. I read books from 25 unique countries of which 5 were new to me, meaning that my Read The World project is slowly but surely inching towards completion. Of course, I’ve got the most difficult ones still to go – I’ve identified something to read from every country but some are expensive and/or difficult to obtain, so although I’d like to commit to finishing this year, I don’t think it’s on the cards.
It was an extremely good reading year, evidenced by how many books I rated 5 stars last year and thus how difficult it was to whittle them down to 10 books. At one point I was genuinely considering writing a top 15. It feels a bit arbitrary separating the ones that just missed the cut from the ones that didn’t, but I guess the knife has to fall somewhere. Big honourable mentions especially to We Move by Gurnaik Johal, In Other Words by Jhumpa Lahiri (translated by Ann Goldstein), and Asylum Road by Olivia Sudjic. And as for the ones that did make it…
10. Nino Haratischwili – My Soul Twin (translated by Charlotte Collins)
From the writer of The Eighth Life, which I also loved, comes a completely different novel about the forbidden love between adoptive siblings, bonded together through childhood drama. It was emotionally intense, incredibly gripping and had me sobbing in places.
9. Caleb Azumah Nelson – Small Worlds
A Goodreads user says “I would read this man’s grocery receipts. Exquisite.” and Niamh, you’re not wrong. It’s another incredibly musical novel about Stephen’s coming of age told through three summers in London, Ghana and back again. If you ask me it’s an absolute scandal that he wasn’t included on this year’s Granta Best of Young British Novelists list.
8. Muriel Spark – Memento Mori
I could have chosen pretty much any of the Spark novels I read last year to make this list, but I chose the one that started it all. So, some years ago now I read The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie and according to Goodreads, loved it, but I didn’t follow up and forgot all about Muriel Spark. Then I bought Memento Mori in the gorgeous Virago Modern Classics produced to celebrate their 40th anniversary, and was blown away. A circle of friends begin receiving phone calls stating simply “Remember, you must die” – causing a whirlwind of suspicion from which no-one is exempt. Written with her trademark eye for human psychology, it’s a wild ride.
7. Deborah Levy – Hot Milk
I read Levy for the first time in 2023 after meaning to get to her for a while, and she’s gone firmly onto my list of writers I would like to read everything by. I was captivated by this story of a young woman and her mother who have travelled to Spain to seek a cure for the mother’s mystery illness. In a world where nothing is as it appears at first glance, they seek clarity in their own lives and in their relationship to one another.
6. Preti Taneja – Aftermath
Aftermath is Taneja’s reaction to the 2019 attack at Fishmonger’s Hall, when Usman Khan killed two people involved in a prison education programme in which he had taken part. He had been Taneja’s student, and one of the victims was a friend of hers. In prose which is both raw and lyrical she explores incarceration and abolition through the lens of her own grief. It’s a deeply uncomfortable read but one I think everyone should spend some time with.
5. Clare Carlisle – The Marriage Question: George Eliot’s Double Life
This is an excellent biography of George Eliot seen through the lens of both her marriage and her works. I read much of it whilst on holiday sitting outside my favourite cafe in Oeiras, Lisbon and mostly just got jealous that she was able to spend her time writing all day and going out in the evenings. I wonder if I’d already have a novel published by now if I had the independent wealth just to write all day! I now call my writing time my George Eliot time. It’s given me a new understanding of her work and cemented her position as one of my favourite writers. Now plotting a new project where I read (or re read) all her works in the order she wrote them… like I need any more projects!!
4. Maryse Conde – I, Tituba, Black Witch of Salem
This is an absolutely captivating account, partly fact, partly fictionalised, of Tituba, the only black witch to be caught up in the Salem witch trials. Every year that Maryse Conde doesn’t win the Nobel Prize in Literature is frankly robbery.
3. Luke Brown – Theft
I said this at the time I read it, but as a working class person who has lived between London and the North this novel really made me feel seen. An absolute revelation and I’ll be hoping to read more of his work when it comes.
2. Anita Brookner – Look At Me
I picked up this book after listening to an episode about it on the Backlisted podcast and having my interest piqued, having never read anything by her before. I was absolutely blown away by it – her incredible levels of observation are just something else, and I found myself really invested in the protagonist’s struggles and heartbroken at the ending. I’m really looking forward to diving into her back catalogue now, which thankfully for me seems substantial.
1. Hilary Mantel – Bring Up The Bodies and The Mirror And The Light
Slightly cheating by putting these together, but they are part of a trilogy so I think I can probably get away with it. I read Wolf Hall either last year or the year before I think, and loved it, but it took me a little while to get to Bring Up The Bodies, which was even better. So good, in fact, that I dived straight into The Mirror And The Light, having not been planning to get to it any time soon. I was gripped from the opening line “Once the queen’s head is severed, he walks away.” which is one hell of a way to start a novel. Her prose is just exquisite at every turn – see “the past is always trickling under the soil, a slow leak you can’t trace” – she has a mastery of plot which makes this almost 900 page novel fly by, and her research is clearly meticulous so I also feel like I learned loads about the period. I’m only a little bit sad that I didn’t fully understand what an incredible writer she is until after her passing. But as with some of the other writers I discovered this year, she’s left plenty of work behind to keep me going. I’ve already gone out and bought A Place Of Greater Safety which is set during the French Revolution, another period I’m keen to learn more about. So perhaps that will appear in my 2024 line up!
Two in a Teacup 