Books I read in 2017

My goal for the year was to read 75 books. I read 122, which even I find shocking. I'm going to keep my goal at 75 for 2018; I'll be in school for the entire year, including the summer, so I'll have less time for my own reading.

Some stats:

Number of re-reads:11
Favorite re-read: My Cousin Rachel, by Daphne Du Maurier
Books read for school: 7
Favorite book read for school (that I hadn't read before): The Odd Women, by George Gissing
Books read about Thomas Jefferson: 6
Favorite book about Thomas Jefferson: The Women Jefferson Loved, by Virginia Scharff
Favorite novels (that I hadn't read before) - The Wonder, by Emma Donoghue; Parable of the Sower, by Octavia Butler; Slade House, by David Mitchell; Howard's End, by E.M. Forster; The Girl With All the Gifts, by M.R. Carey
Favorite short story collections: The Ebony Tower, by John Fowles; Don't Look Now and Other Stories, by Daphne Du Maurier
Favorite non-fiction works: Monster's in America, by W. Scott Poole; Out of the House of Bondage, by Thavolia Glymph; Beggars and Choosers, by Rickie Sollinger
Book that subsequent events caused me to re-evaluate, because Jesus Christ, Al Franken: Giant of the Senate, by Al Franken

Anyway, the list! Along with my reactions as I finished each one:

The Enemy Within: A Short History of Witch-Hunting - John Demos: A good overview, though I prefer more focused histories. Demos has written a few himself, which I plan to put on my list. What this really made me want to find was a good book on the Satanic Panic episodes of the 1980s.
The Portrait of a Lady - Henry James: I finished so many other books while I was working on this; it was my second book started and 20th finished. I kept putting it down and picking it up again. It was kind of a slog for the first 15 or so chapters, and then became extremely compelling. I was racing through it by the end. I ended up extremely fond of and invested in the characters; particularly Isabel. Henry James always finishes on a discordant or ambiguous note. I’ll be thinking about this one for a long time.
A History of White People - Nell Irvin Painter: Really excellent, comprehensive history of the topic. It really lays bare for you how far reaching the origins of Nazism were - Emerson in particular comes off very badly. I’d like to find and read a denser history of eugenics in the US.
Howards End - E.M Forster: So wonderful. I loved the Schlegel sisters, especially Margaret, so much - and I wasn’t expecting to love it as I was a little meh on the film. I wish we knew what happened to Jacky; I can’t imagine Margaret abandoned her, but I wonder that Forster didn’t mention either way. But he’s such a wonderful writer; so kind and sensible and then ruthless.
The Internal Enemy: Slavery and War in Virginia, 1772–1832 - Alan Taylor: Really great; a really interesting topic for a narrow focus. James Monroe’s approach to the British freeing of enslaved people is proof that fake news is not a new phenomenon. What a shallow monster.
American Eugenics: Race, Queer Anatomy, and the Science of Nationalism - Nancy Ordover: Would like to read a book with a bit more focus; this read like four books in one. She got vaguely transphobic at one point, but overall a good read. She makes a strong case for the rejection of Margaret Sanger by the left - far from being just sort of infected with eugenicist thought because of the time, she maintained and fed the eugenics movement in the US and was complicit in a lot of fucked up stuff.
Intruder in the Dust - William Faulkner: Wasn’t in love with it. I like Faulkner in small doses, but he gets on my nerves when I spend too much time with him. I think his heart was in the right place, as far as that goes, but it’s a bit tough to swallow his essential premise: that what was at stake in solving the racism problem in the south was the white soul.
Invitation to a Beheading - Vladimir Nabokov: Interesting; very Kafkaesque, but more concerned with the internal and spiritual impact of the situation than the absurdist mechanics of it. Apparently Nabokov never read Kafka, though. I liked it.
John Quincy Adams: A Public Life, a Private Life - Paul C. Nagel: Very readable; less depressing than the one I read last year, though less thorough. Nagel gives a kinder reading of JQA’s marriage, which was undeniably loving and included a very strong physical connection, whatever its problems. It’s less kind about his taking up of abolitionism later in life, which Nagel attributes to a desire on JQA’s part to be contrary and prove his enemies wrong. Still, a good read and an interesting perspective.
Le Morte D’Arthur - Thomas Mallory (re-read): I’ve read it before, but it was definitely enjoyable. There are no good or bad guys; it gets at the sad tragedy of Arthur so well. Poor Lancelot. Poor Gawain. Poor everybody.
The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin: I wish I’d read Le Guin as a kid, I really love her. This one broke my heart - I wished so hard for the central relationship to flourish, but it couldn’t. Such an interesting idea, beautifully portrayed.
Letters From the Earth - Mark Twain: Sad and bleak, like some of the best Twain is. I liked the actual letters from Satan the best.
The Lottery and Other Stories - Shirley Jackson: Jackson is one of my favorite writers, and I’ve read several of these before. I loved them. I once heard Jackson described as “the patron saint of women who just want to be left alone to be weird” which is apt. I loved especially: The Daemon Lover, Just Like Mother Used to Make, and Of Course.
The Mammoth Book of Jack the Ripper - edited by Maxim Jakubowski: Most of the theories given time are complete nonsense, but I still enjoyed the book as a whole. I was pretty convinced by the argument that Mary Kelly at least was killed by her ex-boyfriend Joe Barnett, though the idea that he killed the other victims as well is a bit of a stretch. James Kelly (no relation) is also plausible, and doesn’t necessitate leaving any facts out, which most other theories do. No actual evidence for him though. Most of the freemason/eminent surgeon stuff is just the work of cranks. Would like to read Bruce Paley’s book, as it’s apparently the most scholarly and well argued (he puts forth the Joe Barnett theory).
The Devils of Loudun - Aldous Huxley: Really enjoyable. Huxley is so sensible about human nature, even as he's optimistic about the transcendent possibilities of human life. He doesn't blame anyone, or search for any easy answers, or assume that anyone involved didn't actually believe the things they claimed to believe, even if many of them were probably lying at least some of the time.
Martin Chuzzlewit - Charles Dickens (re-read): Enjoyable. Our Mutual Friend is still my favorite Dickens, and I couldn’t help skepticism at the title characters’ development. But it was deliciously mean - he hated America a lot.
The Midwife’s Apprentice - Karen Cushman (re-read): A reread, but a welcome one. She was one of my favorite writers when I was young and it’s nice to remember why. Such a smart, compassionate novel. A huge influence on my own writing, even more than I realized.
War Is A Force That Gives Us Meaning - Chris Hedges: I liked it quite a bit; it’s a fast read. I’ve been thinking about the Iraq war a lot lately, how our whole nation seemed to go insane at once and how now those in power pretend like it never happened. This puts that in perspective.
The Women Jefferson Loved - Virginia Scharff: I enjoyed it a whole hell of a lot. Heartbreaking, though. He didn't deserve a single one of them.
The Master and Margarita - Mikhail Bulgakov: I didn’t like it as much as I was hoping to. Margarita herself is a character type that always gives me hives. It was very funny, though. And I enjoyed Woland’s whole entourage.
The Mismeasure of Man - Stephen Jay Gould: Really enjoyable. Gould explains things in a very concise and clear way, but I never felt like nuance was being sacrificed.
The Essential Marcuse: Selected Writings of Philosopher and Social Critic Herbert Marcuse - Herbert Marcuse: I’m glad I read it. I wish I had brushed up on Marx beforehand, however. I enjoyed Repressive Tolerance and Nature and Revolution the best, particularly the latter.
Out of the House of Bondage: The Transformation of the Plantation Household - Thavolia Glymph: Fantastic. The most interesting parts, to me, were the glimpses of life after slavery; the way women negotiated their new relationships as employees rather than slaves. Totally, totally fascinating history.
Monstrous Affections - David Nickle: OK. Nickle’s a good writer, but I enjoyed the novel of his that I read better. It has a sort of clinical quality to a lot of the horror that can be effective, but I don’t like it in large doses. Of the stories included I liked “The Sloan Men” and “Swamp Witch and the Tea-Drinking Man” best. “Polyphemus’ Cave” will stay with me, but not really in a good way. Though maybe that means it did its’ job.
Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America - Barbara Ehrenreich: Loved it. I’ve read some of her other work, and had a copy of this for years, and always put it off. I’m not sure it told me anything I didn’t already know: I’ve worked in jobs like this, albeit with a safety net, and I’m a respectable socialist. But it was good to see the issues laid out and explained so expertly, and it was good to see that she just couldn’t make that life work, even with every advantage.
Monsters in America: Our Historical Obsession with the Hideous and the Haunting - W. Scott Poole: I loved this book so fucking much. I think it’s my favorite non-fiction of the year. History and cultural critique of horror in one funny and engaging and meticulously researched package? This is my jam. I had so much fun reading this, and will look for Poole’s other works. I now have a long list to read just from the bibliography, too.
The Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler: I adored it. What a wonderful book; I’m just sad that I hadn’t read it when I was young. I bought a bunch of other novels by Butler, including the sequel to this one, right after finishing it. Lauren is such an incredible protagonist; this is such a trite thing to say but I related to her so much and wanted so badly for her to succeed, even as I was basically unconvinced by her philosophy. This might be my favorite of the year, so far.
The Hunchback of Notre Dame - Victor Hugo: I liked Les Miserables better. I think I can only take so many digressions on architecture; still, it was compelling. And sad.
The Parable of the Talents - Octavia Butler: God. It broke my heart. I wanted so badly for Lauren to succeed, I wanted so badly for her to find her daughter and achieve everything she wanted. And she did, but it wasn’t the way she wanted. I wanted it for her even as I agreed with the characters who called her a cult-leader. The end was so hopeful, so hard-won. I cried so many tears over it, and yet. It wasn’t what she wanted. How completely things were broken for her. I will think about these two novels for a long, long time. I know that Butler was working on a third, but it feels complete. It’s finished. I adored it.
Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys: A lovely, sad, strange novel. I love Jane Eyre, and I don’t know if reading this colors my interpretation - more like confirms it.
Rabid: A Cultural History of the World’s Most Diabolical Virus - Bill Wasik & Monica Murphy: I wanted to like it, but it was pretty boring. I don’t know if the subject justifies a book. A disappointment.
Patient H.M: A Story of Memory, Madness, and Family Secrets - Luke Dittrich: It broke my heart. The man at the center of the story was wronged by so many people, over and over, and no one ever paid for it. No one ever had his best interests at heart. He was never compensated. They never tried to make his life good. He was just used and then discarded. I wish every single scientist who participated was stripped of their degrees and licenses and sent to prison forever. I was so angry when I finished this one.
H.P. Lovecraft: The Complete Collection - HP Lovecraft: Holy hell did this take me a long time to finish. I’m glad I did finish it, though I won’t pretend I read every piece with a lot of care or attention. Lovecraft had many genuinely compelling ideas, but then there’s his turgid style, and all the racism, and if I ever read the word “eldritch” again I’ll scream. I hadn’t read his poetry before; I can see why it’s not read widely. It sucks.
At The Mountains of Madness - HP Lovecraft: Always a fine line between clever and stupid with Lovecraft. I enjoyed it, but his writing style can be so sluggish.
The Road - Cormac McCarthy: I can see why it has the reputation it does. I admired it, but I can’t say I enjoyed it - maybe because it’s the latest grim book I’ve read in a row. It is very moving, and I think hopeful. I hope it’s hopeful.
Rules For Radicals: A Practical Primer for Realistic Radicals - Saul Alinksy: A really good read, especially now. Reading it made me feel so much less hopeless, which is part of the point. Alinsky is so practical, it’s refreshing. He cared about effectiveness, not purity, but he doesn’t sacrifice principle.
Jefferson’s Body: A Corporeal Biography - Maurizio Valsania: Enjoyable, though it felt a little half-finished and rushed at the end. It had a lot of interesting things to say about how Jefferson approached gender - both his own masculinity and women’s femininity. He tended to approach the world in a manner that was (especially then) coded as feminine by others, and I haven’t seen many books really explore what that means. I’d like to read more about how that tendency affected his politics.
Scandals of Classic Hollywood: Sex, Deviance and Drama from the Golden Age of American Cinema - Anne Helen Petersen: OK. I would have liked more dirt, to be honest. It has some insights as a cultural history of Hollywood scandal, and I would have liked more of that than a rehashing of stuff I already knew.
The Secret History - Donna Tartt: I refused to read this for years because people told me it reminded them of St. John’s. I hated it for about the first third, because the people in it reminded me of my least favorite types from St. John’s. I ended up finding it very moving and rewarding. I like The Goldfinch better, but I’m glad I stuck it out with this one.
The Wretched of the Earth - Franz Fanon: I’m glad I read it; I wish I had re-read Marx first, though. It wasn’t really for me, but that’s ok. Rewarding.
The Case of Charles Dexter Ward - HP Lovecraft: A ponderous slog. I am learning this year that I can only take Lovecraft in very small doses at a time.
Satan in America: The Devil We Know - W. Scott Poole: I loved it. I think I liked Monsters in America a bit better, it was a bit more up my alley, but this was still great and gave me plenty to think about. And again, it has a hell of a bibliography.
The Slave Ship: A Human History - Marcus Rediker: A good history with a good focus. Thankfully, Rediker devoted some time to stories of resistance; they were rare, but they existed, and they count. The story of captured people laughing as they managed to escape and leap into the ocean will stay with me.
The Spire - William Golding: It was compelling, but I wanted to like it more than I did. The narrator had a very interesting voice, but it all felt very didactic.
Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power - Jon Meacham: I liked it quite a bit. Kind of a hagiography, but its portrait of TJ comes closest to my opinion of him as a pragmatic and savvy politician. Meacham manages to reconcile Jefferson’s genuine idealism with his ruthless ambition.
My Name is Lucy Barton - Elizabeth Strout: Very, very good. I enjoyed the narrator’s voice quite a bit. It broke my heart, because I recognized so much. There’s so much mothers and daughters can’t talk about together, and so much they can and have to. I’d like to read more of Strout’s work. I’ll look for it.
The Two Destinies - Wilkie Collins: Wacky, as a lot of Collins’ later works could be. It won’t replace The Woman in White in my affections by a long shot, but it was enjoyable, and Collins’ work was always so interestingly ambivalent about marriage. The part with the dancing cats was plain bizarre, though, he must have been high when he thought it up.
Life’s Work: A Moral Argument for Choice - Willie Parker: I was crying as I finished this; not just out of frustration at some of the stories told, but because I found myself overwhelmed with love and gratitude for this thoughtful, kind man I’ve never met. This book could really change a lot of minds; I fear many who might be changed will never pick it up. At least it gives those of us who support abortion rights language to embrace abortion joyfully as a tool to help women; not a bad thing that’s sometimes tragically necessary, but a very good thing that saves people’s lives.
Old Goriot - Honore De Balzac: This was only the second Balzac I’ve read. I found it very rewarding; hilarious at times and then devastatingly cynical. The style took getting used to - no chapter breaks, so there were never any natural places to walk away from it. It felt like everything happened in a rush, which worked.
Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith - Jon Krakauer: I wanted to like it more than I did. In his note at the end, Krakauer talks about he planned to write a book about the stories Mormons tell about their own history, and I would have liked to read that more. This was a book about a fairly complicated murder case, the history of various FLDS splinter cells, and the history of the mainstream LDS church and a few of its early scandals. I know all of those are connected, but the book needed to be longer to treat them with the depth they deserved. And I couldn’t help but wish I got a better sense of...the sane Mormons. It’s a movement that has had a large amount of success in a relatively short amount of time (for a religion), and created a very stable and conservative (and I don’t mean reactionary here) institution off the back of some genuinely kooky early leaders. I’d like to read a history that included the crazy stuff while giving due weight to what the religion actually means to people.
Beggars and Choosers: How the Politics of Choice Shapes Adoption, Abortion, and Welfare in the United States - Rickie Sollinger: Pretty great, one of the best non-fiction books I’ve read so far this year. It was so frustrating, but illuminating for the ways feminists should change the way we talk about reproductive rights. I’d like to read Sollinger’s other books; she’s very good.
Wild Seed - Octavia Butler: I didn’t love it like I loved the Earthseed books. The main characters were compelling, so was their relationship, but the resolution was unsatisfying. I wanted Doro to get more of a comeuppance, and I’m not sure how I feel about the successful eugenics the characters are engaged in. Maybe I need to read the rest of the series, but I’m not dying to read them any time soon. I’ll probably get to them at some point.
Wise Blood - Flannery O’Connor: There’s a lot I have to think about. Overall, I think I prefer O’Connor’s short stories, but this will stay with me for a long time. Hazel Motes is honest. And God won’t leave him alone.
The Devil’s Pool - George Sand: I don’t know what I expected George Sand’s work to be like; I’ve never read her before. It was a surprisingly simple, sweet story - with a lot of melancholy undercurrents. I enjoyed it.
Wise Children - Angela Carter: A weird, dark, magical little book. Very evocatively narrated. I love Carter’s short stories, especially everything in The Bloody Chamber, and this won’t take their place but I’m still glad I read it.
Al Franken: Giant of the Senate - Al Franken: A pretty light read, but I needed a light read, and I’m glad I picked it up. He has a refreshing approach. I still think he’s going to run in 2020, and you know, we could do a lot worse. [NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: I read this and wrote my reaction before we found out...what we found out. This changes my opinion a lot!]
Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship - JW von Goethe: I hate to say that I kind of hated it. I feel bad because it’s such an historically significant novel, but I couldn’t get into it. Maybe I only like bildungsromans if they’re about women. Parts of it were funny, but most of it was a slog.
The Wonder - Emma Donoghue: Wow, I loved this so much. I was so invested, not just in the mystery but in the atmosphere and the characters. I was so glad it ended the way it did. It was scary and weird and beautifully written. I loved the narrative voice, I loved all of the relationships, I loved its fair portrayal of Irish Catholicism. I’m so glad I read this one.
Alias Grace - Margaret Atwood: I’m glad I read it, I loved it. I never not enjoy Atwood. There’s so much about the ways women tell stories about themselves, to themselves and to the world, and the way the world demands stories from women; no one is better at talking about that than Atwood.
My Cousin Rachel - Daphne DuMaurier (re-read): So glad to have re-read this! The new adaptation made me pick it up. DuMaurier is such an underrated writer, and this novel is so weird and crafty and interesting. It’s like a mirror gothic - told by Mr. Rochester about his wife.
Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery (re-read): I haven’t re-read these books in years, and it’s nice to be reminded why they (especially the first) meant so much to me as a little girl. What I found so interesting this time was how Montgomery portrayed the gradual normalization of higher education for girls; Anne isn’t the only girl planning to teach, and though only a few girls go on to college she isn’t the only one of those either. But anyway, I loved it, and I had forgotten how many lines that I think of often come from it.
Adam, Eve and the Serpent: Sex and Politics in Early Christianity - Elaine Pagels: I was expecting it to be more of a history of sex and gender amongst the early Christians, instead of a kind of intellectual/theological history of the way early Christian thinkers used the story of the fall to think about sin. It was still interesting; it made me want to read more Augustine, especially City of God.
Anne of Avonlea - LM Montgomery (re-read): I was glad to re-read it, though there’s sadly diminishing returns with the Anne books. Anne is less appealing when she’s a perfect dreamy beautiful young woman, as opposed to a gawky adolescent weirdo. And I hate those damn twins.
Lean Out - Dawn Foster: A really good perspective on class and feminism, but too short! It felt more like a long op-ed than a book; I would have liked it to go more in-depth. Still looking for more books by left-wing/socialist feminists to read.
The Sorrows of Young Werther - JW von Goethe: I liked it better than Wilhelm Meister, certainly. As a portrait of melancholy it’s compelling, but I found it a little difficult to take it entirely seriously. It somehow fit that the title character is obsessed with Ossian - a fake poet for fake feelings.
On Slavery and Abolitionism: Selected Writings - Sarah and Angelina Grimke: This was nutritional. I do admire them both so much; it’s useful to remember that southern women of their time did have choices, and could take different paths if they really wanted to. I admire Angelina more - she was the more radical and rigorous thinker. She was willing to demand so much more, of herself and others.
Anne of the Island - LM Montgomery (re-read): I enjoy this more than Anne of Avonlea, as there’s an actual plot/arc. It’s sometimes tough to take everyone falling in love with Anne, and much of the religious stuff is cloying. Still, pretty enjoyable.
Anne’s House of Dreams - LM Montgomery (re-read): There’s this weird mix of realism and melodrama in Montgomery’s work - everything with the baby Anne and Gilbert lose is well-done, but all the stuff with Leslie is ridiculous. And I hate how much Anne denigrates her own writing in this. But it was still nice to re-read.
The Banner of the Upright Seven - Gottfried Keller: I hadn’t heard of it before, but I enjoyed it. It’s a slight little story, but engaging and funny.
The Rider on the White Horse - Theodor Storm: This was a very strange, dark little novel. I hadn’t heard of it before, and I’m not sure if I liked it or not. Everything seemed...futile. It was like a sick joke; maybe that was the point.
The Ebony Tower - John Fowles: I wish I had started reading Fowles years ago, because this is only the second book of his I’ve read and I want to read all of them. I loved this so much. I don’t think I can pick a favorite story; they feed and influence each other so much. It was so moving and thought-provoking and interesting; the search for true connection and a life of the mind and simple escape...part of each character’s story. Really, truly fantastic.
The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher: Stories - Hilary Mantel: The stories were good, but I wanted to like them as much as I like her novels; I did not. My favorite was probably Comma, followed by the title story, but none of them really grabbed me.
The Castle - Franz Kafka: I find Kafka so cold and remote. Interesting, but he never makes me feel anything. I always feel that the idea has been stretched farther than it can stand; every novel ought to be a short story. Maybe if I read them in the original German.
Trials and Tribulations - Theodor Fontane: What a surprise this was. It wasn’t a very dramatic or eventful novel; nothing that happened surprised me. The emotions were very authentic.
Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body, and Primitive Accumulation - Silvia Federici: It was great; I’m so glad it was recommended to me. I have so much to think about: the way land and money and gender all work together. It does sort of suffer from the thing that happens when philosophers or political theorists write history; they really love their just-so stories and don’t always back them up (they can’t always be backed up). I’ve read a lot about the history of witch-hunting, and some of the facts Federici presents are...not factual. Still, a very illuminating read.
Cleopatra: A Life - Stacy Schiff: It wasn’t as great as her book about Salem, but I’m not sure it’s possible to write a really great biography of Cleopatra. So much is speculation, and a good historian has to acknowledge that. Schiff does, but it means that a lot of the book is “well she may have..” and “it might have been…” and it can get a little frustrating. A good character study, as much as we can study the character of someone like this.
The Long Loneliness: The Autobiography of the Legendary Catholic Social Activist - Dorothy Day: I liked it very much, but I wanted to like it more. I would have liked more of her ideas, rather than a simple accounting of her life. It was still a good read.
Don’t Look Now and Other Stories - Daphne DuMaurier: I loved it. I loved every story; they were each as bonkers as I hoped, especially ‘A Border Line Case’ which was BANANAS - so twisted and fucked up and nasty and hilarious. Du Maurier does not get the credit she deserves; if I ever get my PhD I will make it my life’s work to make people take her at least as seriously as Shirley Jackson.
The Collector - John Fowles: I liked it very much, though not as much as his others that I’ve read. I can expect good writing from Fowles, now. It was very cynical, and very sad. I’m glad it spent the time actually with Miranda that it did.
Who Cooked Adam Smith’s Dinner?: A Story of Women and Economics - Katherine Marcal: Very interesting. It was more meditative and philosophical than I expected, and the writing style took getting used to. But it was a great read, and gave me a lot to think about.
Death of the Liberal Class - Chris Hedges: I’m glad I read it, but I liked his other book better. It’s tough - I agree with just about all of his points, but the book has this tone of bitterness that’s really common in writing by white leftist men and it drives me bananas. They need to stop expecting people to turn on Obama, it’s just not going to happen. I get all of the criticism, but emotional needs are real and Obama met them for a lot of people and a lot of people will love and admire him forever and the left just needs to deal with that and move on.
Slade House - David Mitchell: I unexpectedly loved it. It was mentioned as a modern haunted house story on a podcast I listen to, so I decided to try it. It was really, really satisfying (and scary). The format was, as I understand, typical of Mitchell’s work. I’d like to read more, but really I just want to read more horror like this.
Intimate Violence: Hitchcock, Sex, & Queer Theory - David Greven: This was a good read; I like David Greven a lot. Much of queer theory leaves me a little frustrated, but he’s very reasonable and readable. It gave me new ways to think about some of my favorites.
Impossible Things - Connie Willis: I’m so glad I read this collection. Each short story was wonderful, and they were wonderful in such unexpected ways. Her brand of feminism isn’t mine, to put it mildly, but I liked “Even the Queen” a lot, along with “Jack” and “Spice Pogrom.”
The Elementals - Michael McDowell: I liked it, with reservations. It took a while to get going, but was compelling and very frightening by the end. I’ve realized I only really love southern gothic if it’s written by women, however.
16 Lives: Joseph Plunkett - Honor O Brolchain: Sadly disappointing. The writer is a grandchild of Plunkett’s sister, and therefore had access to diaries and letters and other family papers. That’s valuable, but it means it relies on recollections from that grandmother over anyone else’s. So we get a lot of Plunkett’s childhood, but less of his adult political life and relationships with Grace Gifford or the other Rising leaders. It’s a shame - I’d love to read a better book about him.
Empire of Liberty: A History of the Early Republic, 1789-1815 - Gordon S. Wood: A very good overview, though it didn’t really tell me anything I didn’t already know. Wood is a good writer, and the book gives a very strong portrait of the changes in national character in this period, the effects of which are mostly still with us. The books in the Oxford US history series are always worth reading.
The Magus - John Fowles: this was the first Fowles book I've read that I didn't love. I really liked the first third; I liked the relationship drama with Nicholas and Allison and I think that could have sustained a novel without all the Conchis weirdness. Fowles called this his “adolescent” novel and I agree. Still, bad Fowles is better than most novels.
This Way to the End Times: Classic Tales of the Apocalypse - edited by Robert Silverberg: A great collection. I loved the Le Guin, Tiptree and Willis the best, as expected, but some of the early stories were really interesting too. It maybe wasn’t the best thing to read given my state of mind about the state of the world, but I still enjoyed it.
Cassandra - Florence Nightingale (for school): This was for school, and not what I expected at all. It was so furious.
English Society in the Eighteenth Century - Roy Porter: This was good. I felt I had a better sense of everything that led up to the Victorian era. It was very broad, however, like 5 books in one.
The Odyssey - Homer, translated by Stanley Lombardo (re-read, for school): This was for my Classical Lit class. It's always nice to revisit Homer, though I can't stand the Lombardo translation.
The Evil Genius - Wilkie Collins: What an odd novel. I always enjoy Collins, he was so weird and so ambivalent about marriage in an interesting way. I got the sense that his ideal ending would involve Mr. Linley married to both women.
Thomas Jefferson’s Ethics and the Politics of Human Progress: The Morality of a Slaveholder - Ari Helo: This could have been an article. I think Gordon-Reed and Onuf’s book on Jefferson covered similar ground and was much better: more readable and more perceptive. There was some interesting stuff about his views on slavery and his actual vision for ending it. Still, I think it suffers from the same flaw a lot of works on Jefferson suffer from, in that it overcomplicates things. Liking your creature comforts and choosing them over your principles is neither rare nor especially complicated.
Mad Men on the Couch: Analyzing the Minds of The Men and Women of the Hit TV Show - Dr. Stephanie Newman: Overall this was a disappointment. It was strangely shallow; it engaged with the characters as types more than as individuals. Peggy is more than a go-getting career girl. It was interesting, but not illuminating, sadly.
Felix Holt, the Radical - George Eliot: Will I love any George Eliot novel as much as The Mill on the Floss, or admire one as much as Middlemarch? I don’t know. I liked Felix, I liked Esther. I didn’t love the novel.
The Odd Women - George Gissing (for school): what an interesting novel. This was for school; I think I'll write my midterm paper on it. It reminded me of George Eliot. I disliked or despised every character, and don’t care for the author’s politics as far as I can tell, but it was fascinating.
Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination - Toni Morrison: Really interesting, but too short. I think Morrison realized that, however: particularly at the end, she calls for more study along these lines. I still would have liked more than just a few examples. It’s such a rich idea.
The Aristos - John Fowles: This book is very unusual, and I’m glad I read it. More people should write philosophy as aphorisms! I didn’t agree with all of Fowles’ points; he couldn’t always see past his own biases. Still, worth reading.
The Woman Who Did - Grant Allen (for school): I had to read this for school, and I hated it. So badly written and didactic and weird and sexist. Interesting! But terrible.
The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ - Philip Pullman: So glad I read this. I had a copy of it for years and always put it off - the title made me think it would be more polemical than it was. It was very kind and terribly tragic and full of love and fury, like the best of Pullman’s work.
The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro (re-read): I love this novel so much. It's so kind, and so funny, and the ending is so torn between hope and despair and the adaptation is pretty good, but doesn't really convey everything under the surface. I love Ishiguro! I'm so glad he won the Nobel, he deserves it.
Jack the Ripper: The Simple Truth - Bruce Paley: Probably the least crank-like of the JtR explanations I’ve read, though that’s grading on a curve. I was convinced by Paley’s argument that Joseph Barnett at least killed Mary Kelly - all the business with the key to her room was very suspicious. I’m less convinced he killed the others, though there’s certainly circumstantial evidence. It’s as likely as anything else. The book is meticulously researched, and a very good account of life in Whitechapel at the time.
The Girl With All The Gifts - M.R. Carey: I really loved this, and I don’t like zombie stories at all, and only slightly like post-apocalyptic fiction. The plot was so-so, but the characters were so well-drawn that I didn’t care. I’ll think about the ending for a long time - it was hopeful but chilling! I don’t know how I feel about what happened.
The Awakening - Kate Chopin: Another read for school, one I had actually never read before. Beautiful, as expected, but I didn't love it. I kept thinking about the servants.
The Conspiracy Against the Human Race: A Contrivance of Horror - Thomas Ligotti - I didn't love it. It was pretty silly in approach, though Ligotti is a good writer. I'll try his fiction. It reminded me of a lot of my depression-journaling; it felt profound and obviously true at the time, but when I read it now I can only think “sweetheart that’s your illness talking.”
The Glass Bead Game - Hermann Hesse: I’ve liked other Hesse but this was boring. I could have skipped it.
The Book of Dust: La Belle Sauvage - Philip Pullman: it’s so wonderful to be back in this universe. I really, really can't wait for more. Pullman is so creative and thoughtful and I love his books.
The Ties That Bound: Peasant Families in Medieval England - Barbara A. Hanawalt: This was really interesting; I’m glad it was recommended to me. It’s a bit dry, but well-researched and fascinating. It’s also a good book to throw at people who claim that eleven-year-olds are constantly sexualized by adults in George RR Martin’s books because “the middle ages were like that.” They weren’t!
Dracula - Bram Stoker (re-read, for school) - I had to re-read this book for a class, and give a research presentation on it, and I was so glad I had the chance to do so. I love this novel so damn much; it’s so rich and strange and funny and scary.
Grimm Tales for Young and Old - Philip Pullman: This was really cool to read, especially since so much of what I’ve been reading (inside and outside of school) has been so heavy. Pullman doesn’t do anything too out-there with these stories, but he tells them in a very compelling, interesting way.
Dreamland: The True Tale of America’s Opiate Epidemic - Sam Quinones: This was really good and informative. And sad, desperately so. There were welcome stories of communities and families working hard to take care of themselves and each other, but so much has been lost and I fear no one responsible will ever pay for it. Purdue murdered people as much as any narco king pin ever did, and I fear they’ll never pay for it.
The Heart Goes Last - Margaret Atwood: What a strange book. I can’t say it was one of Atwood’s best. I liked the premise, it was scarily plausible, but the plot became so farcical that I couldn’t take it seriously. Interesting, but not successful.
Friends Divided: John Adams and Thomas Jefferson - Gordon S. Wood: One of the more enjoyable Jefferson books I’ve read this year. I noticed a few factual errors, which was annoying, but Wood is still a good writer and it’s a fun topic. You can see the writer’s affection for both his subjects, which makes the work more enjoyable.
The Heavenly Twins - Sarah Grand (for school): It was certainly interesting; I felt the influence of Middlemarch strongly but I'd rather just read Middlemarch. It ended so discordantly, too.
In Other Worlds: SF and the Human Imagination - Margaret Atwood: This was slight, but interesting. Margaret Atwood is so thoughtful and it’s interesting to read her thoughts about the genre and about other writers.
Genie: A Scientific Tragedy - Russ Rymer: I had read a bit about this case before, so little was a revelation, but it was a good read. I’m not sure what to say about it, apart from wishing that everything could have been done differently. I don’t doubt that the people who claimed to love Genie did love her, but they all failed her, and nothing can make that right.
The Italian: or, the Confession of the Black Penitents - Ann Radcliffe: This was much less fun than I was anticipating. I’ll try other Radcliffe, but I don’t really understand the reputation of this one. It was very dull. Admittedly I rushed through it.
Jefferson’s Demons: Portrait of a Restless Mind - Michael Knox Beran: This better be my last Jefferson book of the year! Middling, as they go. Suffered from some mild Hemmings denialism, and made far too much of Maria Cosway (amazing how those things go together), but it was fun.
The Lair of the White Worm - Bram Stoker: Damn, it sucked and I hated it. I wanted to like it, because I love Dracula so much! But this was poorly written and sappy and sloppy and weirdly misogynistic. Awful.
Kindred - Octavia Butler: I loved it! Not my favorite Butler I read this year, which is still Parable of the Sower, but really fascinating and beautifully written. She was such an incredible writer, and there’s so much tension and horror and I couldn’t put it down. So, so good.
The King’s General - Daphne Du Maurier: I love Du Maurier! If I ever do become a real academic I’ll make it my life’s work to help her get the reputation she deserves. This was a lot of fun; the always interesting Du Maurier combination of swoony gothic romance with hard, cold cynicism about people and the world. I love her!

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