So many good books read in 2012. I keep a record, a brief commentary, publication details and date finished. I’ve been reading so much more in the last few years. Most of it I am pleased to have picked up. There are a few books with which I did not persist, I wasn’t interested in what happened to the characters. I wasn’t convinced that I would get anything out of it. I can’t even remember their titles and I don’t record these. I can’t see anything especially satisfying about finishing everything one starts. Too much to enjoy to waste time on some.
Some books have taken quite a time to finish. The chapters of Sarah Bakewell’s book How to live: A life of Montaigne in one question and twenty attempts at an answer varied in length. I enjoyed reading them, one at a time, between short stories and novels.
Then there were the Elizabeths: Taylor, Bowen and Jenkins. We looked at extracts from the first two in a writing class. This sent me back to In a Summer Season, and The Heat of the Day. And Elizabeth Jenkins’s Harriet and The Tortoise and the Hare show how one writer’s style can vary. Harriet is a fictionalised version of a murder, an account of selfishness and disregard. It was a disturbing read. Beautifully produced Persephone Book publication.
I caught up with Diego Mariani’s New Finnish Grammar. The author is a linguist, and tells a bleak tale of a man cut off from everything because he looses his language. He has no history, no social engagement, no conversation, no communication, no love, no belonging, no identity. Even his name isn’t his name. It’s about words, grammar, images, letters, stories, myths, history blended with insights into the fiendishly difficult Finnish language.
Newly published in 2012: Canada by Richard Ford. Unsettling to read, an insight into boundaries, crossing boundaries of all kinds, written in that flat compelling style of Ford’s. Hilary Mantel brought us the second of her trilogy about Thomas Cromwell in Bring up the Bodies. She’s a worthy Man Booker prize winner.
And finally, life changing possibly, Robert Macfarlane, writing about walking in The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot. Such a generous book, there is always space on the path alongside him, and he’s an informed and interesting companion. He introduced me to Edward Thomas, so next year I’ll read Matthew Hollis’s biography.
No room for Persephone’s 30 Short Stories, published to celebrate 100 volumes, or Anne Enright, Edmund de Waal, Malcolm Bradbury, Ali Smith, or the scores of other books I enjoyed.
Now I’m off to curl up with Barbara Kingsolver’s Flight Behaviour.