Hello dear Off-Topicers,
I know favourite books of the year lists usually appear in December1, but I’m never ready for declaring mine that early as I often read a lot in that wonderful week of nothingness between Christmas and New Year. And I was wise to wait, as some wonders did pip their way to the post (although not in a way where their pipping actually displaced anything - there was just a much larger gathering there).
Anyway, here’s a quick round up of my absolute favourites from 2023:
A Little Life, by Hanya Yanagihara - everything else is in random order, but A Little Life is peak highlight. Although it’s such a complex book, sometimes I’m also capable of thinking it might be my least favourite. There are aspects of the storyline that felt too much and where I’ve wrestled with whether they were gratuitous. And I felt betrayed by its ending. But ultimately, I read it last March and still think about it most days2, experiencing a recurring sense of disbelief that its characters aren’t real. So for that reason, it leaps back into prime position and the cycle starts all over again. It’s the story of four friends, with the focus quickly coming to rest on Jude, digging back into his childhood to make sense of his adult trauma. The novel offers little light and no easy resolution…but somehow I still feel grateful to have known its characters.
In Memoriam, by Alice Winn - I downloaded the audiobook and frequently failed to multitask because the act of listening seemed to require my whole being. I think the thing that really got me was how in one moment her characters seemed like men...and then in the next, we were brought face to face with the fact that they were still just boys. Devastating, beautiful, and a fascinating insight into the dynamics of relationships at Eton and how these persisted or fell away in the awfulness of war. Sometimes a book is so good I'm left giving a weird sort of in-head standing ovation for its author whenever I see its cover - this is one of those.
Romantic Comedy, by Curtis Sittenfeld - I adore Curtis’ novels and loved the swerve she took in writing a romantic comedy. The setting - a Saturday Night Live-style show - is brilliantly researched and the dialogue between the couple is wonderfully snappy. I’m usually quite circumspect about which friends and family I’ll recommend a romance to (it’s definite marmite territory), but this is one I shared widely.
Now Is Not the Time to Panic, by Kevin Wilson - I love Kevin Wilson’s novels. He has a knack of taking a quirky idea and then writing around it as though it’s quite normal (and by that, I just mean that his storytelling is really solid). His previous novel was about siblings who burst into flames whenever their emotions become heightened; this one is about a pair of teenagers who flyer their town with mysterious posters one long and boring summer, setting off a chain of events they’ll regret for years to come.
The List of Suspicious Things, by Jennie Godfrey - Set in Yorkshire, this is about a young girl, Miv, trying to make sense of the world under the shadow of the Yorkshire Ripper being at large; racial tensions within the local community; and closer to home, her own mother's wordless breakdown. It's so insightful around the complexities of human cruelty, both those micro-hurts of childhood (that don't really feel micro at all) and more serious abuses. It manages to feel like a warm cocoon of a novel for being told through the eyes of incredibly likeable characters in possession of an inherent goodness. [Proof copy]3
The Half Moon, by Mary Beth Keane - I love Mary Beth Keane’s writing so much that I had the publication date for this marked on my calendar. It’s the story of a couple: why they split up; and why they’re still drawn to one another. I loved them, I loved the Half Moon pub…I still wonder how they’re getting on.
Tell Me What I Am, by Una Mannion - a book club choice that was universally loved. We talked about it for a few hours, but still, the only thing that remains with me is fragments and the overall feel of it. There’s one particularly chilling scene where a man is hammering a stake into the ground, the blows striking the post while his wife crouches beneath holding it steady. Somehow this snapshot has become emblematic of the whole book for me: so unsettling. But also brilliant and very much worth reading. I also adored Una’s debut.
Thirst For Salt, by Madelaine Lucas - this captures so brilliantly how it feels to be young and falling in love with an older man, knowing even at the outset it’s unlikely to end well. The beach, the house, the dog… I feel as sentimental about this couple’s brief life together as its narrator clearly does. And Madelaine’s writing is beautiful.
Great Alone / Another Life, by Kristin Hannah - I find the covers of Kristin Hannah novels have such a similar feel, I often struggle to separate the stories in my mind after I’ve finished one. But this doesn't really matter, as while I’m reading, I’m totally immersed and each only adds to my party line of loving everything Kristin Hannah writes. Her books are often characterised by vast landscapes, complex characters, and they’re usually lengthy, which I love.
The Painter’s Daughters, by Emily Howes - I’m often drawn to novels that imagine the lives around a figure from history (Maggie O'Farrell's Hamnet, Curtis Sittenfeld's American Wife etc), so I wanted to read this the moment I saw proofs popping up online. It's about the bond between Thomas Gainsborough's daughters, and how the younger sister sacrifices her freedom to prevent the eldest from being institutionalised. It's so beautifully written, with such a strong sense of era and place (it's set between Ipswich and Bath). And I adore the cover and its gorgeous mix of traditional and modern. [Proof copy]
The Bee Sting, by Paul Murray - I listened to The Bee Sting over the course of a few days. It's rare for me to remember names and storylines, but these characters and their predicaments have stayed with me. I sometimes found it hard to initially engage with a new narrator's viewpoint, struggled with the end-of-world storyline, but it's easy to overlook these things when they culminate in one of the most audacious and dramatic endings I can remember reading. Breathtaking.
The Theory of (Not Quite) Everything, by Kara Gnodde - this novel explores a sibling relationship through a lens of maths, reason and logic, until the messiness of human emotion and love begin to unravel things. It's a feel-good novel that's meticulously researched, with quirky, well-rounded characters. Plot twists are woven in amongst astute psychological insights, making this a story I gobbled up in just a few sittings.
The Safekeep, by Yael van der Wouden - I adored The Safekeep. Beautifully written, it's a book that seems to almost vibrate with quiet tension and the threat of things shattering at any moment (and things regularly do, although the tension remains). New layers of complexity are revealed a little at a time, and with this, the reader's understanding of what the book is actually about is constantly shifting. It's tricky to talk about without giving too much away, but ultimately it's a novel about possession - how it drives us; how it delivers a sense of freedom, both practically and emotionally. Tender, raw, and brilliant. [Proof copy].
The Friend, by Sigrid Nunez - This is gorgeous. Told in fragments, with a blurry line between what’s fiction and autobiography, I fell in love with it fairly late on when something in the dynamic between the dog and narrator shifts, and then it was a totally wholehearted kind of love. It makes so many wise observations on grief, writing, reading, and the bond between animals and humans. One I'd like to reread. Nb. As our dog, Nell, is now very much an older dog, this book totally scrunched at my heart and she benefited from this by being the unexpected recipient of extra treats while reading. She is now very pro-Sigrid Nunez, as am I. [Proof copy]
Politics On the Edge, by Rory Stewart - a book group choice, I listened to this as an audiobook (read by Rory) and found it totally engaging. He discusses his route into politics, his later career, and shares many of the frustrations of working within government. It should be utterly bleak and unbearable listening, but it's a story partially transformed for being told by someone who obviously cares so much and whose ethics seem so at odds with his party's. Also, Rory's wife, Shoshana, is clearly a saint.
Happy Place, by Emily Henry - Occasionally my sister or I will read a book and then harangue one another (autocorrect changed that to ‘arrange your antlers’ which I love and is how I will be referring to this from now on) pretty much day and night to get the other to read it. My sister was relentless with this. For a while, I maintained my stance of I’m saving it for Christmas because if I start, I will do nothing else until it’s finished, but then I caved and lost eleven hours of pre-Christmas life to it. And it was worth every second. And yes, this is pure, undiluted romance, so if you're on a high horse when it comes to these matters, you’d need to clamber down to enjoy it (although if the mention of a high horse doesn’t make you think of Gilbert Blythe, you may want to read Anne of Green Gables first).
The New Life, by Tom Crewe - a novel based on historical events, drawing on the details of a Victorian underground gay rights movement, and two same-sex couples and their respective faux marriages. The writing is beautiful and the characters' internal and external battles with repression are tenderly explored. It's a generous book that visits each perspective and elicits compassion for everyone involved. For me, the academic narrative initially sits slightly jarringly beside the softer, more intimate details, but they knit together more seamlessly in the second half.
Big Swiss, by Jen Beagin - I alternated between the book and audio for this one and both were a delight. A woman transcribing a sex therapist's treatment sessions develops an obsession with one of his clients and then they meet in real life. At times quite shocking, the audiobook actually caused me to splutter at one point - a rare and occasionally welcome thing in a novel. Brilliant characterisation and the audiobook only enhances this: a fellow reader and I now regularly conduct entire conversations in Big Swiss’s clipped monotone. Incredibly funny, with a memorable setting, complete with bees and donkeys. [Proof copy, although I doubled-down and also used a credit for the audiobook].
Fifteen Wild Decembers, by Karen Powell - Fifteen Wild Decembers is a novel about the Brontë sisters, from childhood to first publication (I hadn’t realised all three were first published around the same time) and Emily’s untimely death. I knew relatively little about their lives, so this was a welcome filling in of gaps and I loved discovering where the inspiration for various novels came from, as well as learning about the lesser-known siblings (two sisters and an elder brother, who all died far too early). Karen Powell’s writing is beautiful and she feels a really worthy voice to take on adding this additional layer to Brontë history. Also, what a title4. And what a cover.
For Christmas, knowing how much I love anything miniature, my daughter made me a tiny library of all the books I’d read in 2023. Here they are, minus a few read towards the end of the year. It made me laugh that she made A Little Life triple the thickness of any of the others ;) By the way, so many of the other books you can see here were also excellent and well worth reading - I just don’t have the time or the space5 to write about them all.
I’d love to hear what your own favourites were, or if we have any overlap.
With love and belated good wishes for a wonderful 2024,
Florence x
Or if not, then at the very start of January. I’d intended to write this earlier, but time ran away from me.
I think I’ve found my own Roman Empire.
Nb. if you’re not familiar with this reference, see here. My husband said he rarely thinks of it, but my son says it pops up in his thoughts a few times a week.
For transparency, I’ve noted any proofs given to me by an author / agent / publisher, although obviously this doesn’t influence my opinion. I LOVE being sent free books, but a favourite is just a favourite, irrespective of where it’s come from (although the Tom Crewe was a gift from my son, bought at Paris’ iconic Shakespeare and Company bookshop, bearing their sticker on its front and I will admit that these things may have nudged it into my favourites. But it might have made it there under its own steam anyway. Either way, it’s very good).
It’s always a shock when that ‘approaching maximum email length’ warning pops up, when I’d felt I was only just getting started…
THANK you for your recommendations! My TBR pile is getting higher and higher but I am delighted! I am not sure you'd be happy with more, but I had to think of two things while reading your newsletter: 1. It is definitely trigger warning material, but I really really really loved the theater version of A little life by ITA which now runs in cinemas (a play by a book in the cinema! - https://alittlelifeplay.com/) and 2. I was blown away by the book The song of the stork and the dromedary by Anjet Daanje (https://www.letterenfonds.nl/en/book/1532/the-song-of-the-stork-and-the-dromedary#:~:text=This%20masterful%20novel%20spans%20two,May%2C%20modeled%20after%20Emily%20Bront%C3%AB.) which is loosely based on the life of the Bronte sisters but is so brilliantly done. Also pretty dark, but it totally fits the bill. I think you would appreciate it.
I think what you’ve written about A Little Life is fair; I still think about the book often but feel I’d be wary of recommending it to anyone who wasn’t in a strong emotional state - I think it should have trigger warnings on it!