#I really should make that list of “twentieth century queer or queer-ish literary fiction that I have read and can recommend”

[ghostoftonantzin]

Books I have read this year, 2023, roughly in order

I enjoyed doing this last year, so I thought I would do another little write-up of the books I read this year and what I thought.

I've read 52 books this year, hitting a goal I hadn't thought to set. That includes a few graphic novels, but not the audiobooks, which I listened to 15 of this year (I spent a lot of time driving). Same as last year, I've annotated the audiobooks with an asterisk.

I also started listening to Backlisted this year, which significantly influenced my reading choices.

Under a cut, because it got long

Swedish Cults, Anders Fager (1/2) - I saw this was originally published in 2009, and I feel like the first story in this collection somehow really echoes that time. Which is probably a strange thing to say about a horror story.

When Washington was in Vogue, Edward Christopher Williams (1/13) - very sweet, very interesting look at a time and a place I didn't know much about.

The Cement Garden, Ian McEwan (1/19) - I expected to enjoy this a lot more than I did, based on how it's often described as a great "fucked up" book. I think the teenage boy POV just didn't do much for me.

Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons (1/20) - a reread, for the first time since probably 2014 or so. I enjoyed it (and understood it) a lot better this time around. I got to the back half and couldn't put it down, which is a strange thing to say about a parody of the rural novels of the 1930s.

Nona the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir (2/12) - finally got this from the library. I didn't enjoy it as much as the first two books in the series

Fun Home, Alison Bechdel (2/24) - a reread. The final page always destroys me.

Cassandra at the Wedding, Dorothy Baker (2/25) - Very literary. I think I enjoyed it, though I can't muster up the energy to form a stronger opinion. The scene where Cassandra pulls out the bridesmaid dress she bought was memorable, though.

Are You My Mother?, Alison Bechdel (2/28) - a reread. Scratches the same itch as Fun Home, but doesn't tie the family narrative into the theoretical themes as cohesively.

Surviving the Applewhites, Stephanie S. Tolan (3/12) - another reread, to see if it was as good as I remembered from fourth grade. It held up for the most part.

The Secret to Superhuman Strength, Alison Bechdel (3/13) - finally, not a reread. Fun, erudite, perhaps not as tight as Fun Home, but another excellent Bechdel.

Ravishment, Amanda Quick (3/24) - sometimes you have to read an entire romance novel in an evening. This was fun, though its plot and that of "Mistress" (see below) blur into one another.

Season of Migration to the North, Tayib Saleh (4/7) - I think I would have enjoyed this book more if I had read it in a class where I could discuss it and learn more about the historical context behind it.

The Bloater, Rosemary Tonks (4/9) - of Backlisted fame. I should reread again, more slowly, to get a better taste for Tonk's use of language.

Mistress, Amanda Quick (4/15) - also a fun quick read, though I can't remember much of the plot.

Excellent Women*, Barbara Pym (4/25) - yet another attempt to get into audiobooks, and it semi-worked this time. Mildred sets a high bar for other Pym protagonists to follow, and I thought Pym created an excellent portrait of post-war life for unmarried women and the minor indignities and intimacies that accompany it. Also ridiculously funny, at least to me.

Clouds of Witness*, Dorothy L. Sayers (5/12) - I wanted to read Gaudy Night, but I figured I should read at least a few Peter Wimsey mysteries that came before it. I think my favorite character was Lord Wimsey's mother.

Star, Yukio Mishima (5/16) - an interesting portrait of a disaffected youth and of fame in Japan at the time it was written.

Strong Poison*, Dorothy L. Sayers (5/16) - the first Wimsey mystery to feature Harriet Vane, and my first encounter with Lord Peter's office of overlooked older secretaries, who provides the enjoyable detour of Miss Murchison making an important breakthrough in the case. Not bad, though not super memorable.

Have His Carcase, Dorothy L. Sayers (5/17) - the only Wimsey mystery I read instead of listened to, because neither library app had the audiobook. This one was too reliant on keeping timetables straight for my taste, but I still read it in a day.

Beyond Black, Hilary Mantel (5/22) - possibly the best book I read this year. Bleak, bleak, bleak, and wonderful for it. Yet one of the most cathartic happy endings I've ever read.

Thus was Adonis Murdered, Sarah Caudwell (5/28) - caught my sense of humor by the second or third page. Hilariously dry mystery, and understandable even if you don't know legal jargon.

The Feast, Margaret Kennedy (5/31) - this book is not even remotely a thriller, is in fact sort of an elaborate morality play, and yet I couldn't put it down. The conceit- that a cliff collapses onto a hotel and everyone inside dies, but not all the hotel guests were inside- keeps you guessing at whose sins are bad enough to merit a karmic death.

Starlight, Stella Gibbons (6/4) - a lot grimmer than I expected, and almost ahead of its time in terms of the (I'm going to say) pointlessness of its ending, in a "people come into the main character's lives, stuff happens, but the main two old ladies aren't actually affected" way. Not a book you would expect to find demonic possession in, but it's there and it's played straight!

The Shortest Way to Hades, Sarah Caudwell (6/6) - I find it interesting that all of these mysteries center around details of things like inheritance law and yet all feature murder as the main crime, and also that (spoilers) the villain is disposed of in a manner that does not require the main cast to get involved with the police.

The Sirens Sang of Murder, Sarah Caudwell (6/9) - by the second volume in this series I kept trying to guess who the murderer, and I was never ever able to do it. Not that I've ever been good at that part of mystery novels, but I do appreciate Caudwell keeping me on my toes.

Gaudy Night*, Dorothy L. Sayers (6/11) - finally, the book I read three prior mysteries for. I found this one fascinatingly slow for a mystery and much more focused on the life of women in academia in that era than I had expected. I particularly enjoyed the character of Miss de Vine, who at first seems like the classic absent-minded professor, only to reveal herself to be much wiser in ways of the heart than she appears.

The Black Maybe, Attila Veres (6/19) - short horror story collection, translated from Hungarian. Not bad, but none of the stories were super memorable.

Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus (6/22) - I did not enjoy this and probably would not have finished it if my mom hadn't highly recommended it. The characters felt flat and the plot struggled to build enough tension for the emotional beats to hit. I also feel like the four-year-old character did not act anything like a four-year-old, though I'll admit I don't know a lot of four-year-olds.

Hackenfeller’s Ape, Brigid Brophy (6/26) - I would say this book wasn't that exciting, very dry and academic for its bizarre plot, but one detail near the end (which I won't spoil) knocked me sideways and tbh probably made the book for me.

Less Than Angels*, Barbara Pym (6/27) - I had to go back and add this while writing these reviews because I'd completely forgotten to list it at the time. Not as good as Excellent Women, though I also had to adjust to the multiple perspectives as opposed to just one.

Comemadre, Roque Larraquy (7/2) - a reread. Still one of the strangest books I've ever read. Highly recommend.

The Sky is Blue, With a Single Cloud, Kuniko Tsurita (7/3) - I'd had this collection of manga one-shots for about a year, and decided to finally read it when hanging out at the library when the water was out at my apartment. It's very interesting to see her style develop and to learn more about the alternative manga industry.

Mrs. Caliban, Rachel Ingalls (7/4) - I had been vaguely meaning to read this for a while, then found it on Hoopla. Looking back on it, it rivals In a Lonely Place (the Dorothy Hughes one) with regards to drawing California in the mind's eye, though the mood of their particular Californias are very different.

Black Wings Has My Angel, Elliott Chaze (7/8) - the tension at the end of this book is like pulling teeth, it's incredible.

Scruples, Judith Krantz (7/24) - absolutely frothy and frequently ridiculous, but also fun. Their are main characters named Spider and Valentine, and it's taken completely seriously. It's actually a really interesting look at the values and beliefs of the 1980's as reflected through pop culture.

Days in the Caucasus, Banine (7/28) - I was more interested in the sequel to this memoir, Parisian Days, but figured I should read this volume, about the author's childhood in Azerbaijan in the years leading up to its incorporation into the Soviet Union. It provided a really interesting perspective of the Soviet Union from a resident of one of its subject states.

Frederica, Georgette Heyer (8/6) - my first Heyer. I'm impressed by her ability to write annoying younger siblings and walk the line between "overly cute" and "overly aggravating".

In the Miso Soup, Ryu Murakami (8/17) - good, though not my favorite of the year by far. The violence depicted did manage to turn my stomach a bit.

My Man Jeeves*, P.G. Wodehouse (8/20) - I've realized that I need to listen to audiobooks that are fun if I'm going to survive long drives, so I turned to the Jeeves series (I only listened to the Jeeves stories in this one). An interesting introduction to the character, especially since it starts in America instead of the England of the more well-known tales.

Love in the New Millennium, Can Xue (8/29) - I'm not sure if this book is meant to be very surreal, if I'm missing cultural context, or both, but I will say it does serve me well to be a little befuddled by books sometimes. This book has a strange, flowing sense of perspective, where it moves between perspectives and the stories of its characters, only slowly unveiling where it's emotional weight lies. Very interesting.

The Inimitable Jeeves*, P.G. Wodehouse (9/1) - second collection of Jeeves & Wooster stories. Good, though Bingo isn't my favorite side character.

Flesh, Brigid Brophy (9/1) - the beginning chapters are incredibly sensual in a way I can't describe, but after that it inspired an incredible feeling of dread that something would go terribly wrong. Despite the fact that this is a satire of young adults in 1960s London, I could feel emotional catastrophe creeping around every corner. I don't think this was Brophy's intention.

Ice*, Anna Kavan (9/8) - somehow not anything like I had osmosed it being. The narrative flows between reality and fantasy so fluidly that it's incredibly easy to wonder if you spaced out and missed something important while listening to it. The plot is also fascinatingly simple and surprisingly free of actual conflict: despite impediments, the hero ("hero") rarely actually encounters any opposition that seems like it could truly keep him from his goal. This adds to the feeling that everything occurring in the book is barely-veiled symbolism.

The Glass Pearls, Emeric Pressburger (9/13) - the tension in this might have honestly been too much for me. Good, but I don't know if I can read it again.

The English Understand Wool, Helen DeWitt (9/16) - sometimes you read a book and recognize that it's very good, while also being annoyed that what it is is different from what you want it to be. I understood it worked as a morality tale, but I found it limiting and frustrating. I will also indulge in a bit of cattiness here and say that for a book about luxury and high-quality goods, the book design chosen by New Directions for this series feels like a cheap set of children's books. (I read this on an online checkout from the library, so I only saw the book itself in a bookstore.)

Right Ho, Jeeves*, P.G. Wodehouse (9/18) - The fact that Jeeves and Bertie were on the outs for this one did stress me out, I will admit.

In a Lonely Place, Karl Edward Wagner (9/22) - the stories pick up in quality in the back half, in my opinion, though none of them are true duds. The last story and standout in the collection, yet another twist on a vampire tale, really draws its strength from the grimy-yet-glamorous depiction of an art student's life in London.

Kissing the Witch, Emma Donoghue (9/27) - I enjoyed how each story folded into one another and found this book hard to put down. Also very gay, loved it.

The Drama of Celebrity, Sharon Marcus (9/27) - I was reading this for background for my fic, and it was somewhat helpful. It's really mostly an analysis of Sarah Bernhardt's career, with some light theory of celebrity to contextualize it instead of the other way around like I expected.

Malpertuis, Jean Ray (10/15) - I probably shouldn't have read the summary for this book before the book itself, but I'm not sure I would have fully understood the plot if I hadn't. Not a knock on the book itself.

The Great God Pan and Other Stories*, Arthur Machen (10/16) - I don't read a ton of nineteenth-century literature, so I was surprised by how compelling the title story was, especially when listened to. I also found some of the imagery in "The Novel of the White Powder" horrifying and would not be out of place in a modern horror story. The final story was a bit of a slog, though.

Heartburn*, Nora Ephron (10/20) - a relisten to the version narrated by Meryl Streep. I downloaded it based on a recommendation describing the audiobook as turning it into the one-woman monologue the book was meant to be, and I can't think of any higher recommendation to offer than that.

Casting the Runes and Other Stories*, M.R. James and others (10/30) - I knew about M.R. James from popular culture, but I honestly had not expected "Whistle and I'll Come to You, My Lad" to center so much around golf.

Invitation the the Waltz, Rosamond Lehmann (11/1) - I read most of this in one sitting, playing old music through my headphones, which felt really ideal. Setting most of it during one formal dance allows for a sense of insular-ness while allowing the details of the world to be woven in. If that makes any sense.

Crazy Salad and Scribble Scrabble*, Nora Ephron (11/3) - it's really interesting to listen to these essays written during the second wave feminist movement and realize that we've been having the same arguments for 50 years. It's also interesting to read about the minutiae of Watergate from the perspective of those watching it unfold in real time. So many weird, unmemorable cultural-political things that have gone down the hole of public memory! (I need to note here that the last essay in Crazy Salad is, based on my memory of the first time I read it (I skipped it this time around) very transphobic, so I can only recommend this collection with that heavy caveat.)

BBC Radiophonic Workshop: A Retrospective, William L. Weir (11/7) - I first learned about the BBC radiophonic workshop through the Backlisted episode about Rosemary Tonks, and this was a fascinating look into that period of British history and the origins of electronic music. It's also helped me pinpoint how to find that sort of music I think of as "alien abduction music", which is a bonus.

Joy in the Morning*, P.G. Wodehouse (11/10) - I didn't realize this wasn't in the 3-book arc that starts with Right Ho, Jeeves until I was partway through. Still, quality Wodehouse.

Good Morning, Midnight, Jean Rhys (11/17) - despite listening to the Backlisted episode before reading this, I didn't quite grasp what "modernist novel" meant, which meant I was surprised by the stream-of-consciousness flow of this novel. It's such gorgeous writing, though. Depressing as hell.

Winter Love*, Han Suyin (11/18) - beautiful and sad. The main character, Red, is frustrating, even though everything she does is perfectly understandable within the context she lives in.

The Girls, John Bowen (11/21) - the blurbs for this book ("Barbara Pym meets Stephen King") made it seem like this would be both lighter and more horrifying than it actually was. I found it to actually be very melancholy in parts, and surprisingly focused on the emotional aftereffects of murder. The ending, the final paragraph, is gorgeous.

Black Orchids, Rex Stout (11/30) - I'm now trying to find Nero Wolfe books in secondhand bookstores, though I'm limited by the lack of secondhand bookstores in my area (that may be a good thing). I enjoy how Nero Wolfe and Archie play off each other.

The Hearing Trumpet*, Leonara Carrington (12/1) - so, so good, and I'm glad I listened to it as an audiobook, because the narrator, Sian Phillips, is an elderly woman herself and therefore able to conjure up a whole range of different voices for the old women who populate this book.

Mistletoe Malice, Kathleen Farrell (12/6) - I was actually disappointed by this, which might have been a matter of mismatched expectations. However, the Christmas tree never caught fire, and I swore a review I read said it would, so I spent the whole book waiting in vain.

Venetia, Georgette Heyer (12/16) - A delight. Aubrey is a great character, and I enjoy how Heyer has the different characters play on each other.

Great Granny Webster, Caroline Blackwood (12/18) - did not expect this book to have a large section on "decaying old Anglo-Irish homes and their horrors", but I guess that's a richer vein in literary fiction than I realized (see: Good Behaviour by Molly Keane).

Sylvester, Georgette Heyer (12/21) - not quite as enjoyable as Frederica or Venetia, in my opinion, though that may be partly because I waited for almost 2/3 of the book for Phoebe's book to actually be published.

Providence, Anita Brookner (12/28) - beautiful prose, of the sort that makes me realize my own inadequacies in both my writing and my critical capabilities, because I can neither replicate it or describe what makes it so compelling. This book is also so tightly crafted for a story where almost nothing happens. It ends up exactly where it's been leading all along.