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Whinging, gossip and more books

Lydia Perovic's avatar
Lydia Perovic
Dec 30, 2022
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Final reader contribution of the year:

Christine Borsuk

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr. Three powerful plots (not one plot + two subplots) occurring in greatly spaced past - present - future centuries in Europe and North America.  Events linked tenuously, as spider silk, by imagination and word.

Shakespeare's Rebel by C. C. Humphreys. Swashbuckling, 'romantic', illuminating. A moving portrayal of society set (mostly) in London, in the closing years of the Elizabethan era (mainly in 1599).

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. First time reading cover to cover. Was never so glad to finish a book. It is, of course, 'good'; and it 'ends' well... but at what cost, with how much wretchedness wreaked along the way!

Thank you, one and all. This conversation will be continued.


My 2022 in books

My reading diary tells me I completed 45 books this year, which is not a stellar record. (Andy Miller puts us all to shame.) For years now I’ve been keeping to about one a week but then life gets messy, and you spend a lot of time dipping in and out of sources (which eats into your reading for pleasure time) and here we are. 

My standouts this year, and the worthy mentions.

Sarah Hall, Burntcoat

Sky Gilbert I, Gloria Graeme

Jami Attenberg, All Grown Up. I’ve also read and enjoyed her Middlesteins, but her most recent one, the memoir I Came All This Way to See You: Writing Myself Home, I found a bit unmoored. 

Laurence Cossé, A Novel Bookstore (transl. Alison Anderson)

Dominique Barbéris, A Sunday in Ville-d’Avray (transl. John Cullen)

Christina Lupton, Love and the Novel: Life After Reading

Annali Furmark, Walk Me to the Corner

Natalia Ginzburg, Voices in the Evening (transl. DM Low)

Han Suyin, Winter Love (how have I never read this before)

Elizabeth Strout, Lucy by the Sea

Holly Lawford-Smith, Gender-Critical Feminism

Junot Diaz, This is How You Lose Her

Kate Chopin, The Awakening (how have I never read this before II)

Julia Armfield, Our Wives Under the Sea was one of the many other books this year which I found smart and all right but not thrilling. I’d put under that category also Tessa Hadley’s Free Love (I much preferred her Late in the Day, but she’s always a pleasure and never really disappoints for long), Charlotte Mendelson’s The Exhibitionist, Elizabeth Strout’s Oh William!, Julia May Jonas’ Vladimir, Ali Smith’s Companion Piece, Sheila Heti’s Pure Colour, Yelena Moskovich’s A Door Behind a Door. 


2022 in podcasts

I’ve noticed I’ve been gradually moving from spending all of my walking time with the opinion pods which have seen me through the darkest of the pandemic and lockdowns (Fifth Column, Blocked and Reported, Honestly with Bari Weiss) to pods which are more expertise or advice oriented (Best Friend Therapy, The Meaningful Life, How to Fail, How to Own The Room, Gender: A Wider Lens). I still check in with two literary pods, Across the Pond and Always Take Notes, but listen to them depending on the guest. The Rest is Politics is probably the most eagerly anticipated podcast on my phone right now. I still listen to The Rest is History, but the lads have over-extended to cover everything that ever happened, and often have to resort to Wikipedia (something that they joke about too: “I see you’ve been to the Bodleian again”). If you’ve listened to them incessantly for a year, like I have, you’ll know their blind spots all too well. I still tune in if they have good guests or cover something that’s of hot interest, but more often than not I skip. As for comedy podcasts, I regularly check out Adam Buxton and sometimes RHLSTP. I remain with The Unspeakable with Meghan Daum, for now; somehow never took to A Special Place in Hell, although I really enjoy Sarah Haider view of the world. When it comes to the BBC Sounds app, I’ve neglected all my former favourites. I enjoy Helen Lewis’ Spark, and the odd Media Show. The rest is just…too ponderous. 


Book I won’t be reading

Fayne by Ann-Marie MacDonald

Has anyone been clamouring for an Orlando pastiche wrung through the Brontes and parked in late nineteenth-century Britain? Penguin Random House thinks so!

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