Last Year’s Fiction
Greetings Internet!
I am coming off the rumble and tumble of this bygone semester, something that I’m sure to publish about in the coming days; however, I’m picking up right where I left off. Nearly six months into 2019, I’m writing about what I read in 2018. I also may use that clever title as a page to write about the novels I read.
Have at my library and enjoy.
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I hardly write about books.
This is slightly untrue because of my education. I’m writing academically about books left and right, but it isn’t ever really about what I like in the books I read. Sure, there are some prompts that my professors give us that spur great ideas and critical thinking, and we have round table discussions about how we relate to the text and such, but with formal academic writing, it is just that: formal. And I enjoy writing out long theses about the insides of books and stories but, there’s just something that I miss while doing so.
Thus, we launch into my second article on books, this time my favorite fiction (from 2018).
Some critics say the novel is dying. I say the novel was always dying. So many bookshops exist in an age bombarded by the ease of access to YouTube, Netflix, Hulu, or, the broader term, distraction. I’m pretty sure radio dramas from years ago were supposed to have muted the novel for good. Same with the television and the nightly news. But here it is, still surviving, still being celebrated by so many, still being invested in by artists struck with inspiration. And I hope it survives as long as it takes me to publish my own novel someday.
So, no, the novel is not dead. Storytelling is still alive and well and I think, especially in today’s environment, we could use an escape from reality, one that doesn’t require a faraway place to fly to and stay and one that doesn’t require headphones (save for audiobooks). We could use escape in this form because all novels strangely reflect some truth in ourselves better than any other medium can do.
Reading is a personal, reflective experience. And here are the six I felt were best for me to write a blurb about (or attempt to) from the previous year:
Let Justice roll down, let Justice roll down.
I feel like this story is important for this age. Here are Lucius Boggs and Tommy Smith, two of the eight of Atlanta’s first black police officers that bump against the savagely racist backdrops of the early 20th century South. A lady turns up dead in a heap of trash in Sweet Auburn, and due to her lack of searchable history and the color of her skin, no white officer feels any conviction to investigate. But Lucius Boggs feels the need to, and what he uncovers is a system of hidden tracks and shady partnerships between Lionel Dunlow, a prominent white officer, and several spots in town.
I loved this story, simply, because justice prevails in surprising ways. And the story weaves through so many different parts of Atlanta, so many situations are described with precision and detail, and suspense is as abundant as are streets named Peachtree (Atlanta joke). I can’t wait to read the sequel (there’s a sequel!) in the new year.
*This book contains language.
I’m coming clean with this one:
I only picked this up because a) it was less than three dollars, b) it had mountains in the title, and c) the cover art had a compass on it.
East of the Mountains is the second novel by David Guterson and it was published in the late nineties. And I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised. It moves along swiftly although there isn’t much dialogue to be had and the story has you feeling sorry for Ben, the main character.
It’s about survival, I think. Ben Givens is retired from a long career of being a surgeon, has found out he will die of cancer, and feels as if life isn’t worth living anymore. He packs some necessary hunting supplies and sets out for the mountains, East of his Washington home in the West, planning not to return (or to be found alive). Of course, the story only gets twisted from there. Somehow everything that he plans to do gets turned upside down. Car wreck, wandering packs of hound dogs, a ride through Snoqualmie with a young couple in a VW camper.
Not only does this book take place in the present, but there is so much that Guterson does in developing Ben. We get his backstory and several intimate details of how he and his late wife came to be friends and lovers. It’s such a great story that had me wanting to turn the page learning every detail about this character’s life.
I have dived headfirst into this thematic series (it’s a series!): Crime mystery, nineteen-teens setting, and a strong, leading female character that defies her societal situation and upbringing to ensure justice to her and her household.
And absolutely killer cover art, also.
This book is actually historically based. Constance Kopp was a real person that worked with the New Jersey Police Department in the early twentieth century, and Amy Stewart brilliantly translates her into a character everyone can be on board with. I certainly am. She goes through this novel a little unsure of herself and unsure of what to do about her home’s demolished method of transportation due to a shady businessperson that plowed into her vehicle. She challenges the expectations lingering in the past era that she should remain cordial, pleasantly unconfrontational, and agreeable.
If you want a story, err, series about a leading lady that is disagreeable, defiant, and fights for justice, pick this one up and begin. The book is beautiful.
I am lost on where to start with this award-winning novel.
When I was a college freshman, I was immediately immersed in a world that would bring me new ideas to ponder and new concepts to consider. My character is of subtle rebelliousness to trial, and I constantly have to be convinced that the thing or activity someone wishes my involvement in is trustworthy and that my time won’t be abused. And a class from the past semester on Literature of the British Isles brought me to this book.
Ladies and Gents, I wonder how I’ve managed to live twenty-four years and not know who Salman Rushdie is.
My little intros aside, there are reasons why this book refuses to be forgotten and why it has won so many awards. It is enthralling and imaginative, detailed and dense, funny and meticulous. There are five hundred pages of story here, and plenty of adventure inside. Due to my inability to read novels (or, anything) in a strict schedule, I had to start this one quite early on in my semester, but oh my, it excelled my waywardly misconstrued expectations. It defied my “just read as much as you can to get by and pass the class” attitude.
There is so much that one has to simply read it to enjoy it. I can’t encapsulate all the adventures of Saleem Sinai in one single blurb, but I can say, I learned more about India than I have in any history class. I felt heavy emotions in the discussions we had as a class.
Dr. Miles, if you ever come across this, thank you so much for putting this book, and this author, in my hands.
*This book contains some language.
And because I’ve already said that I’ve drunk the kool-aid, here is the latest novel from Rushdie. I must say that it is a very delectable kool-aid.
This book is an old, refurbished Cadillac that explodes in the Himalayan Mountains. That is to say, a wealthy family shows up in New York, in 2008, with no mention of personal history, warning of the disruption they will bring, and all the pleasantries of a family that want to exist without question despite questionable details and irrefutable pasts.
And, given the book’s 2017 publication date, it is set in modern America, with the 2016 election in the background, edging the story further and further along its course.
I said when I got through the first sixty pages or so that this book is like modern-day Gatsby, but at the end of it, I’ve found that that description is simple and narrow-minded. It’s like The Great Gatsby if Nick Carraway unashamedly involved himself more in the affairs of Jay and Daisy, witnessed the deterioration of a nation, and dated Jordan Baker simultaneously.
A high recommendation, indeed.
*This book contains language.
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
This is my favorite book that I read in 2018.
It’s written beautifully in a series of letters that makes it feel as if the reader is glimpsing into the character’s deep personal relations, and I think that’s why I enjoyed it so much. It’s such a warm scented candle in the darkening world of book reading, a reminder that a story can connect people across nations and cultures and experiences.
Set in the remnants of World War II off the coast of mainland England, the island of Guernsey is recovering from a stifling and tragic German occupation that decimated their livestock and mobility (as it did nearly everywhere). Though it was brutal, an unlikely set of neighbors found solace in their improvised book club, one that began due to a roasted pig dinner with strong liquor, leading to a run in with the Germans. They had to explain the meaning of their company after curfew, and their book club was born.
An author away in England, struggling to find the inspiration to break out beyond a published conglomeration of her wartime stories, stumbles upon this book club and makes it her mission to write their story and every detail about their characters.
It’s an unapologetic love story for those who love books.
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I encourage you this year to pick up a book you’ve meant to read or go to a used bookshop and select a novel to sink your mind into. Judge the crap out of the covers and pick stuff up that looks interesting or, if you’re really daring, read the last sentence of that novel.
If it is a sentence that sends sweet curiosity to your soul and you must know how that sentence came to be, read the book.
You’ll be glad you did.
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Sean McConnell—Alien
Foster the People—Pay the Man
Lord Huron—The Balancer’s Eye
All Time Low—Coffee Shop Soundtrack
Dutch Uncles—Pondage
Buy My Ticket Home 