List of Top Reads of the Year

My goal this year was to read a wider range of books from a variety of genres (I also wanted to make a dent in my Atlantic Canadian reading list) . . . and to include more nonfiction.  I'm not sure I ever really manage to stick to my goals.  New books attract my eye and off I go in another direction, but I think I have read a wide range of books .. . just not as many in as many directions as I'd intended. This coming year I'm aiming to be more selective.


And I still haven't completely broken myself of the compulsion to finish books I start . . . even if I don't like them. I'm getting better at leaving them behind, I just don't do it often enough (hence the need for more selectivity).

Books read: 148 

Books by men: 88

Books by women: 57

Books by both (or involving both, i.e. translations): 3

Fiction read: 127

Of the Fiction . . .

Novels: 84

Poetry: 18

Plays: 5

Short Stories: 5

Children's Lit/YA fiction: 15

Nonfiction read: 21

Of the Nonfiction . . .

Essays/lectures/letters: 4

History/Biography/Memoir: 5

On Literature and/or Poetry: 6
Gardening/Outdoors/Food: 6

Books in translation: 5

Books that were re-reads: 19

The top 5 prose fiction reads from this past year (regardless of year of publication and excluding canonical and/or quasi-canonical). Listed in no particular order (oh, and not including re-reads):

• Walt Whitman's Secret by George Fetherling. Best example of intelligent, subtle literary fiction I've read in a long time.
• Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel 
• Darkmans by Nicola Barker
• Atonement by Ian McEwan
• The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch   

Honourable Mentions:


Three great mystery series I started reading this year are the Flavia de Luce mysteries by Alan Bradley (beginning with The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie and continuing in The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag), the Inspector Pekkala series by Sam Eastland (beginning with this year's Eye of the Red Tsar), and the Stieg Larsson books (read and loved the first one!).  I'm looking forward to reading the rest of each (some new instalments of the Bradley and Eastland are coming out in 2011!).

Top 5 Poetry books read this year. In no particular order (excluding re-reads/classics/canonical):

• Light Falls Through You by Anne Simpson (2000)
• That Other Beauty by Karen Enns (2010)  I've recently finished this collection of poems and found it quite wonderful.  A lengthier post is in the works.
• Rites of Alienation by Douglas Fetherling (1988) Fetherling rarely disappoints.  I could have put any of the Fetherling collections read this year on a top 5 list.
• The Good News About Armageddon by Steve McOrmond (2010)
• Windstorm by Joe Denham (2009) Its tone and subject bear some similarities to the previous collection, but the style is quite different.  I was completely blown away while reading it recently and will attempt a suitable post about it in future.

Honourable Mention:

Really, this list should be a top 6, because Julia McCarthy's Return from Erebus was also a favourite poetry read this year. Just brilliant!

Top 5 nonfiction books of the year (not including re-reads):

• Journal of A Solitude by May Sarton 
• Absence of Mind by Marilynne Robinson
• Aspects of the Novel by E.M. Forster
• Grammar Matters by Jila Ghomeshi
• Travels By Night by Douglas Fetherling

Reading goals for the coming year:

I'm still hoping to work more nonfiction into the reading diet. (Elusive goals may still be worthy goals.) And I'm hoping to make a dent in that TBR shelf. The TBR shelf that has been suffering from great recommendations from lovely bloggers ... but I'm not complaining. :)  

I wish you all a fun, safe evening of celebrations, and a brilliant, book-filled new year.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

Year Wrap-Up Meme

Looking over the past year's ups and downs seems to go with the season. Since I came across this meme a couple of years ago, it's become something of an annual fixture.  So, as usual, here is my wrap-up-the-year meme --

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?


a). went waterfall hunting
b). acquired a home of our own

2. What countries did you visit?


Outside of my imagination? None. Again. Alas.

3. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?

A canine edition to the Inkslinger home would be nice. Although I'm not sure what our regal Hatchepsut would do with a dog.

4. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Surviving the move from ye olde family homestead to our new home in the city. 

5. What was your biggest failure?


Not beating those silly anxieties.

6. What was the best thing you bought?

Other than the house? Books, of course.  And the Kindle (though, technically, that was a gift).

7. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

Mr. Inkslinger's behaviour merited much celebration this year: pulling off the improbable house-buying project, protecting poor little OCD me from holiday anxieties, and pointing me in the direction of some great reads. And just being his usual stellar self.

8. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

Other than my own? Why focus on the negative?  

9. Where did most of your money go?

a).Same answer as last year:
Student loans (and the subsequent trials related thereto) soak up a lot of time and cash (and had I known it was going to be like this I would have expected/demanded a great deal more of my university experience).


b).Oh, and setting up housekeeping in our new home.

10. What song will always remind you of 2010?

It's been the usual eclectic mix of music-listening for me this year.  But a song that sticks with me is Seven Mary Three's "Each Little Mystery."  The song isn't all that recent. From 1998, I believe, but I came across it just this year via a friend.   

11. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?

a). I believe I'm heading towards happier. b). possibly thinner . . . the old clothes don't fit c). poorer (see answer to number 9)

12. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Writing. Relaxing. Travelling.

13. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worrying. Fretting. Borrowing trouble . . . The usual.

14. What was your favourite TV program?

I seem to be enjoying geek-themed tv shows of late. The Big Bang Theory and Chuck are seeing a lot of play at our house. The sis comes over for a good evening of Chuck Season Three dvd watching, while Mr. Inkslinger and I enjoy a good chuckle through an episode of Big Bang every now and again. But it's mostly dvd watching. Commercials try the patience of the Inkslingers.

15. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Still intending to keep hate out of the emotional diet. 

16. What was the best book you read?

See upcoming top ten post.

17. What did you want and get?

A Kindle!!  A home of our very own!!  A lovely family Christmas!!

18. What did you want and not get?

A baby Inkslinger is still at the top of the wish list.

19. Best Musical Discovery?


I rediscovered my affection for The Rolling Stones this year. Does that count?

20. What was your favourite film of this year?


Many of the films I watched and loved this year did not have 2010 release dates.  So I'll ignore the release dates and just go with three favourites watched this year:


Gran Torino
The Trotsky
The Bad Sleep Well 


21. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Went to the movies with the family.  We went to see Robin Hood, which I only mildly enjoyed.  It was lovely hanging out with the family, though.

22. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Learning to move beyond the stress would be so satisfying.   

23. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?

In need of an upgrade.

24. What kept you sane?

Still nothing. :P

25. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?


Maybe a little Zachary Levi.  Or Robert Downey Jr.  Sshh. Don't tell Mr. Inkslinger.

26. What political issue stirred you the most?


I remain unstirred.

27. Who did you miss?

Still my mum. Still every day.

28. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.


Patience is a two step forward one step back kind of virtue.

Holiday Reading

Inspired by a post at Compulsive Overreader, I've been re-reading Anne of the Island.  And loving it all over again.  I haven't read it in years . . . and it does make for such lovely holiday reading.  The use of dialect, the overblown descriptions, the humour!  Montgomery sure knew what she was doing.  And I've long admired how she sneaks little bits of subversive theology into her Anne narratives.


Here's a quote from the unquenchable Mrs. Rachel Lynde:  "Such candidates as they have sent us, and such stuff they preach!  Half of it ain't true, and, what's worse, it ain't sound doctrine. The one we have now is the worst of the lot. He mostly takes a text and preaches about something else. And he says he doesn't believe all the heathen will be eternally lost.  The idea! If they won't all the money we've been giving to Foreign Missions will be clean wasted, that's what!  Last Sunday night he announced that next Sunday he'd preach on the axe-head that swam.  I think he'd better confine himself to the Bible and leave sensational subjects alone.  Things have come to a pretty pass if a minister can't find enough in Holy Writ to preach about, that's what."  


Oh, the irony that spews forth from Mrs. Rachel Lynde.  I don't know which part is more chuckle-worthy, the bit about unsound doctrine being worse or the confusion over what is/isn't in the Bible (the story of the floating axe-head was one of my favs as a youngster).  When a child, I loved to hate Mrs. Lynde. As an adult, I admire what Montgomery does with this lovably unlikeable character who rings so true to life.


I'm also indulging in more Holmes.  I've begun The Valley of Fear this week.  And Mr. Inkslinger and I braved yesterday's snowstorm-like event to pick up some books at the book store (you know you're a book addict when . . . :).  He purchased a very nice edition of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and I picked up a copy of Sarah Waters' The Little Stranger.  I've been wanting to get my eyes on that novel for some time now.  And of course there is always that stack of books Mr. Inkslinger and I accumulated on Christmas Day! Good reading ahead!

Happy Christmas

Our Hatchepsut . . . 'helping' us decorate the tree.

Here's hoping these holiday wishes find you just where you want to be with the people (and books) you love. 

The Fetch by Nico Rogers

Imagine an attractive book filled with images and voices of a particular time and place, particularly Newfoundland in the first half of the 20th century.  A book of voices that evoke laughter, lumps in the throat, goosebumps, and thought. Images that intrigue and speak black and white volumes.  Then imagine that it's even better than you thought at first and you'll know why I enjoyed Nico Rogers' The Fetch.

  


A book of poetic snapshot narratives, The Fetch is a feast of dialect, a celebration of the variety of pasts in a given place, and just a fascinating collection of characters. From spooky to hilarious to moving, this book is never boring.  There are boys who jump from ice pan to ice pan to prove their worth as seal hunters, children who dare the two-headed monster in the bog, a widower who remembers his wife sewing patches on the knees of his pants (a particularly moving tale), and a host of other voices and memories. 


It doesn't hurt that Newfoundland culture (particularly pre-Confederation Newfoundland culture) is kind of fascinating all on its own: rich in story-telling, community, and the thrills and danger that come from making one's living from the sea. But what Rogers does in The Fetch is bring together a myriad of imagined experiences and lived-in language and a world springs to life.


Rogers' use of metaphor, his deft hand with characterization, his play with language, all make this a must read.


*Many thanks to Brick Books for the review copy.

Top Ten Comfort Reading List

As the house is taken over by wrapping paper, ribbons, flour and sugar . . . As the chaos of Christmas prep turns into the chaos of Christmas celebrations . . . As the wind whips round the upper story of our house, it seems like a good time to contemplate a topic introduced to this reader by a post at the ever-interesting A Work In Progress:  a list of favourite comfort reads.  What a lovely topic to dwell on . . . and it means I get to make another list (have I mentioned -- lately -- that I love lists? Especially lists involving books). 


Without further ado:


1.  A Jane Austen (virtually any Austen) would have to go on my list of comfort reads.  I think, for me, I'd go with Northanger Abbey or Persuasion.  The former due mostly to Henry Tilney, the latter because Anne Elliot is just so splendid. But really, Austen knows how to fully engage the mind while remaining somehow comforting and affirming. Speaking of Jane Austen and comfort . . . one of my favourite comfort films is the (sometimes rather strange) 1986 Northanger Abbey with Peter Firth as Henry Tilney. 


2. This may sound odd, but I find a good cookbook awfully comforting. Maybe it's the combination of words with pics of food (and the promise of good food to come if worthy recipes are followed).  Current cookbooks on my kitchen bookshelf are:  Laura Calder's French Taste, Nigella Lawson's Nigella Bites, and Daley's In the Sweet Kitchen.


3.  Leave It To Psmith by P.G. Wodehouse.  Wodehouse, in general, is usually good for a laugh, and the novels focussing on Psmith are especially fun.  But Leave It To Psmith is a novel I can both laugh over and sink into.  And that makes it a comfort read.


4. 84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff.  How do I love it? I can't count the ways . . . there are too many.  Suffice it to say that if I'm feeling overwhelmed by the non-bookish world, a good dose of 84 Charing Cross Road sets things to right again.  The back-and-forth conversations about books between Helene and Frank are just so tasty!


5. Laurie R. King novels, specifically the Mary Russell series.  They're just the right blend of suspense and intelligence.  Besides, Sherlock Holmes is such a comforting idea.


6.  Georgette Heyer novels can usually be counted on for some comfort.  They're not on the level of Austen, of course, but gently evoking another time and solving problems in a good number of pages can't help but be comforting.


7.  Changing Heaven by Jane Urquhart.  It's just so easy to sink into those poetic descriptions.  And a character obsessed with Wuthering Heights and a landscape haunted by Emily Bronte? Just lovely.  It's the kind of book one likes to settle into on a winter's afternoon, accompanied by tea and chocolate.


8.  The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde.  One of the best plays in the English language . . . and sure to chase away anything that needs chasing away.  Filled with wit and savvy observations about life and people.  And just plain hilarious. Such a comfort, laughing at absurdities.


9.  Pamela Dean's Secret Country trilogy. Or, now that I've read it, her novel Tam Lin.  There's something so booky and friendly about Dean's writing.  The plots are not without suspense and danger, but the reading experience is always such a pleasure.


10.  Gerard Manley Hopkins poetry. Even though Hopkins poetry is always challenging and complex and brilliant, there's also a sense of world-rightness one gets from reading him.  

Having said I would write more about Trudy Morgan-Cole's The Violent Friendship of Esther Johnson I did what has become something of an increasingly bad habit with me: nothing.  I became wrapped up in finishing War and Peace (which I have just finished) and completely forgot to post more about Morgan-Cole's lovely novel.  Which is a shame, because it's such a worthy novel.

What I really enjoyed about Morgan-Cole's Esther is the latter's believable voice.  It wasn't stilted, it felt authentic.  Morgan-Cole didn't employ highly stylized 17th century language, yet the period was effectively evoked by descriptions of setting, by the characters themselves and their society.  At the same time, however authentic to the time period much may have been, Esther's voice is infused with that sense of the individual that defies time and place.  I really liked Esther as a character and I was completely engrossed by her (largely imagined) story.


That Jonathan Swift had a great friend named Esther Johnson that he deeply respected is fact, but Morgan-Cole has breathed fictional life into a figure who exists only in the shadows of history. So little is known about Esther Johnson.  This gives much room for fiction.  And, of course, in less capable hands, it might give much room for nonsense, but Morgan-Cole never veers into the territory of nonsense.  


We follow the life of Esther from her childhood as the daughter of the Moor Park housekeeper -- where she meets Swift and benefits from his instruction -- to her independent life in Ireland and England with servants of her own. Morgan-Cole imagines what might have existed between Swift and Johnson.  Was it more than friendship? Was it even ultimately beneficial to Esther? A convoluted, complex, and very human relationship.  And such an interesting story.  Morgan-Cole writes certain kinds of women (independent, unique, intelligent) very well indeed. 


I can't imagine why this novel is so hard to get now.  So much better than much historical fiction out there.  

10 Best Friends From Literature

(meme via the ever fascinating Curious Reader and the always engaging So Many Books)


1. Aslan (Chronicles of Narnia).  Because he's not a tame lion.  But he is good.


2. Elizabeth Bennet (Pride and Prejudice).  Yes, she and I would have had to fight over Mr. Darcy (he may be fated for Lizzy, still . . . ), but she's all about sisterly love, family loyalty, and integrity.  A good friend to have (just ask poor Charlotte Collins).


3. Laurie (The Secret Country).  When her age, I too felt pretty awkward in almost every situation.  Besides, she gets to hang out with a brilliant wizard, a handsome lord, and is sister to the king.  That doesn't sound so bad.  


4. Barney Snaith (The Blue Castle).  He's the kind of guy one wants around.  He may be rough around the edges, but what an interior.  


5. Mary Russell (King's Russell suspense series beginning with The Beekeeper's Apprentice). She is romantically and intellectually partnered with Sherlock Holmes and yet she more than holds her own as a character.  Need I say more?


6. Beatrice (Much Ado About Nothing). Like many a Shakespearean heroine, Beatrice knows how to stand up for herself and those she loves.  Favourite quote:  Don Pedro says to her after she has declined to marry him, "Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour." And she replies, "No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born." 


7. Psmith (Leave It To Psmith).  A better friend one could never find.  Who would go so far as impersonation and thievery to aid a friend in need? Psmith would. With hilarious results.


8. I suppose no literary best friends list would be complete without Anne (Shirley) Blythe of the Anne of Green Gables books. I read all of the Anne books as a child and teenager and she was a great, enduring influence.


9. Linda Martin (Thunder On the Right). A strong figure who dominated the reading landscape of my earlier years (as did many a Stewart heroine).


10. Jo March (Little Women). There are too many reasons to list. 

Currently and Recently

Listening to: Annie Lennox singing Christmas songs! 


Recently Watched and Enjoyed: Two films in particular. The first is Gran Torino (2008). This is the second directed by/starring film of Eastwood's that I've seen and absolutely loved. So, of course, I'm going to have to see them all (for better or worse, or until I can't take any more westerns).  His performance in Gran Torino is so moving, so disturbing, I still feel haunted by it days later (and suspect it will enter into that small category of films that distill in one's imagination for years).   


The second is The Trotsky (2009). What can I say about this great film? If you haven't heard of it, well, it's hilarious, relevant and compelling. A comedy about a Montreal high school student who believes he's Leon Trotsky reincarnated. He wants to change the world and he's certain he's the revolutionary who can do it.  What results from his campaigns against the fascist hierarchy (which includes, among others, his father) is funny, and brilliant, and even (dare-I-say-it) inspiring. The writing is wonderful, the acting superb.  Can't recommend it enough.


Recently Read and Truly Enjoyed: Trudy Morgan-Cole's The Violent Friendship of Esther Johnson . . . fascinating novel!  A good, solid historical novel about the friendship between Esther and Jonathan Swift.  I'm going to attempt to work up a post to do it justice.


Currently Anticipating:  The red velvet cake I recently tried baking.  It looks good, it smells good . . . all good signs.  Or, I could always treat myself to more of these giant peanut butter and jelly thumbprint cookies (I tried baking them earlier this week and they're absolutely wonderful!):

Reading Notes on McCarthy's Return from Erebus

What struck me about this collection of poems, virtually from the first page, was the vibrant use of language, the diction, the way the words seemed to jump and clash and do all manner of linguistic hijinks.  McCarthy has an almost unerring sense of the apt image (aural and visual) -- "The White Forest" is particularly arresting -- she catches sound and sight in her lines, wedding the unexpected with the 'ah' moment that I love so much in good poetry.

There are allusions to myth, of course, there are aspects of horror (I'm thinking of "The Visit"), sadness, brilliant poems like "Angel of Loneliness" in which loneliness is personified as a one-winged angel, and poems about writing or about poetry.    


McCarthy is not afraid to try on unusual words, to shake out some less used words and phrases, make them anew. She uses a more extensive vocabulary than some of her contemporaries, and to effect.  These poems stretch images, sounds, words, they reach up and out and what they grasp is the reader's interest and engage with his/her intellect.


There are unexpected pairings like "fists in your blood" (reminds me of Milton Acorn) or the metaphor comparing graveyards to "nurseries no one visits."  She connects abstract ideas to images that resound with significance.


I suppose it's obvious that I loved and was impressed by this collection.  It is a challenging read at times, but that's because it doesn't assume the reader is incapable of meeting that challenge.  And it has some of the best imagery I've read in awhile . . . like this:

you bear silence like leaves

in winter when all the earth's jewellery is under glass

Such a glorious collection of poems!

*Note: Many thanks to Brick Books for the review copy.  

Wherein C.L. Hawley (Juxtabook) and Nicola Barker Are Lauded

Since serendipitously coming across Catherine's blog, Juxtabook, on the book blogging hub  Book Blogs, I've found her to be such a reliable source for good reading suggestions!  Once I noticed that our reading tastes overlapped often enough, I decided to take a look at some of the books I'd never heard of before that were mentioned on her site.  Case in point:  Darkmans by Nicola Barker.  It's on Catherine's list of top ten books of the last ten years and rightly so!! (side note: I plan to read my way through all the other books on this list as well, at least the ones I haven't already read). I ordered the novel, it arrived, it waited patiently on my TBR shelf for a few months while I finished up on a few other reads, and then I took it down, opened the cover, read the first few pages and was hooked.

But how to describe Darkmans?  How to properly express how layered, challenging, brilliant, unsettling, entertaining, thought-provoking, and engrossing it is?  This is not going to be easy (hence my procrastination over starting in on this Darkmans post).  


I suppose I should start with the obvious. Set in contemporary England, the plot centres around a young pharmaceutical pusher, Kane, his father, Daniel Beede, and his father's friend, the German named Dory.  Then there is Dory's family -- his mysterious, beguiling wife and increasingly preoccupied son, Fleet, who is building a matchstick model cathedral he's never seen.  Things begin (almost immediately) to go awry, askew, reality slants.  Memory begins to overlap the present, or, at least, the past seems to overlap memory.  And all becomes confused, and fascinating. Dory keeps forgetting who and where he is, Elen (his wife) needs consolation, Kane and his father begin to discover ties that bind, and Fleet is hearing voices.


But what does that tell you about the juxtaposing of faith and fate, determinism and choice -- not to mention some asides about suburbia, of consumerism -- of progress and regress? How can I possibly explain what is going on with language in this novel? What does the previous paragraph tell you about the habit of history to possess in this novel?  Because though the characters are fascinating (especially Daniel Beede), they all pale in comparison to the portrait of history that begins to emerge as the pages turn. A dynamic, not altogether benign presence.


It's a fascinating book from cover to cover and this review just doesn't do it justice.  If, like Juxtabook, I had a top ten list of this decade's novels, Darkmans would undoubtedly be on it. I'm so glad Juxtabook does have such a list and that I took a chance on this novel.  I'm still thinking and pondering about it months later. And will continue to do so . . . until and after I reread it again and again. 

It's not just that when the snow flies, it also lingers, and it's not that there are no more birds flocking on wires, lawns, and rooftops, it's the quality of air that confirms winter has decided to start its (usually) too-long relationship with us.   Words freeze in little gusts, and while the moon hanging low over our new roof illuminates a small family of deer picking their slow way across a crisply frosted lawn, the air carries the sounds to us in a way that makes one feel intimately connected with a wider, wilder world.  


I do love this time of year.  October, November and December are my favourite months.  They just seem to accumulate towards sparkle.  Speaking of which, we have our decorations up (all except the tree) and holiday baking has begun in earnest.  Red velvet cake, egg nog cake, chocolate cake, cookies, cinnamon bread . . . I'm getting hungry just thinking about it.  I'm trying out some new recipes this year (some peanut butter and jam cookies), as well as continuing to experiment with the old (an old great-aunt's recipe for holiday squares).  Which doesn't sound like a bad way to approach things in general.


To add some old to the new, Mr. Inkslinger and I were also desperately excited to receive his grandmother's china as a pre-Christmas surprise (thanks to the generosity of his mother who had inherited it awhile ago).  Excellent not only for its beauty and sentimental value, but in timing as well . . . we really weren't sure what we were going to serve holiday meals on this year (as china patterns had not been a priority when moving into our first home).


In terms of reading news, I find that domesticity is distracting.  Setting up house doesn't preclude one from reading (well, not this one anyway), but it does seem to limit the writing about reading.  I've managed to finish reading a few books around my War and Peace reading, but I realized I still haven't posted my thoughts on Barker's Darkmans or Triny Finlay's Histories Haunt Us . . . and I probably should do that before I talk too much about the others (one of which is Julia McCarthy's Return from Erebus . .  wonderful collection of poetry!!).  So, off to work up a few more catch-up posts . . .