past annual favorite book lists:
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I read 66 books in 2024 (no one is more surprised than me bc design school?! I credit a healthy dose of escapist fiction/series last winter and many shore days reading during the summer) and loved many of them. Initially this stack of books was a few volumes higher but I really tried to pare it down to just the very top standouts.
Per usual, these are in no particular order, and my favorite selections within essay and poetry collections are listed where applicable, with an asterisk for my very favorites.
The Idiot // Elif Batuman
I relate all too well to my girl Selin, overthinker extraordinaire. This book feels very true-to-life in that the plot is very slow-moving, comprised of a slow accumulation of days and events as Selin moves through her first year at college and the summer that follows it. I think you will either love this book or hate it, but I loved it *so* much and reading this book made me want to give my college self a big hug. Batuman captures the feeling of newly exploring the world as an adult, with friendships you happen to fall into due to proximity, and trying to navigate the social politics of college. Selin also spends a lot of time thinking about language and translation and meaning—as a fellow overthinker, I relate all too well to her parsing of meaning and wondering if everyone else spends as much time forming their thoughts and words as you do. Batuman's wry humor is so subtle but had me cracking up for much of this book. If you like bookish young women and feeling secondhand embarrassment and tenderness, you might like this one too (or maybe, quite simply, you, like me and like Selin, are a bookish girl who has, at one time or another, been tricked by your girl brain. I felt very seen reading this book).
The subsequent Either/Or has been patiently waiting on my shelves for when I am ready for some more Selin time, which I think may be very soon. I also want to read more Russian fiction (notably some Dostoevsky) and then revisit this one; there are a lot of layers here that I think I would appreciate even more with a better grasp of some of the Russian classics I haven't yet read.
"Back in Svetlana's room, we listened to the CDs she had bought—Joni Mitchell's Blue and Bach's St. Matthew Passion—and made necklaces, periodically holding up the strands and comparing them. Svetlana explained how her necklace was characteristic of her and mine was characteristic of me, and I thought about how probably, as long as civilization had existed, women had been threading beads onto strings or reeds or whatever. Then I wondered whether it had always been women. Maybe in ancient times men had been into beads. Today, though, it was hard to imagine boys sitting around on beanbags, listening to Joni Mitchell, holding necklaces against each other's necks, and talking about Svetlana's sister. Some part of me worried that this was why women would never amount to anything, that we were somehow holding ourselves back."
Vibrant Matter: A Political Ecology of Things // Jane Bennett
If The Power Broker is the book I spent the most time talking about in 2024, Vibrant Matter is the book I spent the most time thinking about. I was first introduced to material theory by my friend Rebekah a few years ago, but things didn't really click for me until I arrived at landscape architecture grad school where it all suddenly made sense and resonated very deeply. We read a couple chapters of Bennett's Vibrant Matter in my first semester theory class and as it turned out, those were the chapters (1 and 2) which ended up being my favorite upon reading the entire book, but I loved the book on the whole nonetheless.
For those unfamiliar, Bennett and other vital materialists advocate for an ethic that ascribes agency and motive to objects and things, rather than relegating them to inanimate status. I think landscape architectural examples capture the essence of these ideas very well—
Harold Fisk's meander belt maps of the Mississippi River are a favorite and very lovely visual illustration of the vital materialist idea/principle that something like a river, through the physics and processes of water, gravity, weather, etc., is enacting a sort of agency as it shapes sediment in its movements and changes course over time. Bennett explores these ideas in many other contexts as well, examining things like stem cells, electric grids, garbage, and other environmental and political systems that comprise other types of assemblages with material agency. Bennett's work is quite academic in tone and style, but many of my favorite writers explore similar themes in their work (such as Robin Wall Kimmerer [though Bennett may disagree in that instance as her particular brand of vital materialism is distinct from other more spiritual traditions of animacy], Mary Oliver, Annie Dillard, and Amy Leach) and I found it so helpful to gain a better familiarity with the particular theorists who have written extensively on these topics, summarized nicely by Bennett in this volume and ultimately comprising a further reading list for future me (when I have the mental capacity to delve into those more philosophical works).
My Bright Abyss: Meditation of a Modern Believer // Christian Wiman
Wiman's My Bright Abyss is the runner-up for books I spent the most time thinking about this year. Wiman's musings on belief with a modern sensibility really resonated with me (my apologies for probably overusing the verb "resonate" in this post! I digress!) and my particular experience of religion, faith, and belief.
"I always have this sense that something is going to resolve my spiritual anxieties once and for all, that one day I'll just relax and be a believer. I read book after book. I seek out intense experiences in art, in nature, or in conversations with people I respect and who seem to rest more securely in their faith than I do. Sometimes it seems that gains are made, for these things can and do provide relief and instruction. But always the anxiety comes back, is the norm from which faith deviates, if faith is even what you could call these intense but somehow vague and fleeting experiences of God. I keep forgetting, or perhaps simply will not let myself see, what true faith is, its active and outward nature. I should never pray to be at peace in my belief. I should pray only that my anxiety be given peaceful outlets, that I might be the means to a peace that I myself do not feel."
"[Y]ou can know everything about a religion—its history, iconography, scripture, etc.—but all of that will remain intellectual, mere information, so long as your own soul is not at risk."
My Bright Abyss*
Sorrow's Flower
God's Truth Is Life
O Thou Mastering Light
God Is Not Beyond*
Varieties of Quiet*
Mortify Our Wolves
Hamnet // Maggie O'Farrell
I loved this speculative historical fiction about (the never-named) William Shakespeare’s home life. Maggie O’Farrell’s prose is exquisite and rich with details; the reviews I read are mixed and some readers described it as overwrought. Personally, I thought she was able to characterize a sensitivity that several of her protagonists shared in how they viewed and moved through their world attuned to the finely rendered details around them. Most of all, this was a story about grief and about relationships between parent and child; this latter theme most explored through the contrasts of the two generations of parent-child relationships. Hamlet has always been my favorite Shakespeare play and I loved this book all the more for its take on the tragedy, weaving it into the context of this novel with a beautiful, poignant, heartbreaking ending.
Everything I Know About Love // Dolly Alderton
Perhaps Dolly's best-known work, I came to this late in the game but no less enthusiastically. Although Dolly and I had very different young adulthood experiences, the emotional tenor of this book resonated with me completely, just the same. She writes about dating foibles and growing up, common fodder for the 20-something coming-of-age genre, but the common theme throughout is female friendship as ballast.
"Nearly everything I know about love, I've learned in my long-term friendships with women. ... I know what it is to know every tiny detail about a person and revel in that knowledge as if it were an academic subject."
Bright Young Women // Jessica Knoll
One of my favorite novels of the year—moving and devastating as you know the end from the beginning. Knoll deconstructs the celebrity of a certain real-life serial killer by never naming him, a hat tip to the young woman court stenographer who exclusively referred to him as only "The Defendant." The title of this book is a twist on the judge's closing remarks in which he referred to The Defendant as a "bright young man," a heinous display of sexism in its erasure of the enormous potential and shattered lives of the actual bright young women this man coerced and brutally murdered. Knoll weaves a multilinear narrative that is extremely well done and plumbs the complexity and depths of the women (both survivors and victims) so often maligned in this true crime narrative.
Between Two Kingdoms: A Memoir of a Life Interrupted // Suleika Jaouad
I've been meaning to read this for a few years, ever since I started following Suleika's project The Isolation Journals during the early months of the pandemic. One of my friends picked this for our book club one month and we all loved it. It's beautiful and moving and heartbreaking and lovely. I laughed and I cried and I held her words close. Suleika’s prose is stunning and she writes about her emotions with striking precision, and seems to have weathered some truly challenging experiences with grace and compassion.
The Open Space of Democracy // Terry Tempest Williams
My favorite essay in this collection was "
Ground Truthing," which I first encountered in 2023 on a recommended reading list for incoming landscape architecture students at Penn. I loved this collection of essays which revolved primarily around conservation and politics in the intermountain west. TTW's words are encouraging and a prescient reminder as we contend with a new presidential administration hostile to the reality of climate change and with a track record of reducing the conservation gains of the past.
Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters // Annie Dillard
I have loved Annie Dillard since first encountering her work in college and Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is one of my very favorite books. I've also read/loved An American Childhood as well as several volumes of her poetry. Teaching a Stone to Talk contains many of the Annie Dillard hallmarks I adore, including essays of her nature writing where I think she really shines ("Life on the Rocks: The Galápagos" was incredible). I appreciated the more eclectic and varied nature of this collection and loved moments of crossover between one of my favorite writers and my more recent Jane Bennett-vital materialism interests ("Teaching a Stone to Talk" is very much in this vein). But I think my very favorite from this book was "An Expedition to the Pole"—an inventive exploration of worship and belief juxtaposed with accounts of polar exploration, the impetus for polar exploration serving as stand-in for belief. It sounds bizarre and moments of it are, but I loved it so so much. Several times I caught myself comparing Dillard's writing to another favorite writer of mine, Anne Fadiman (this essay specifically reminded me a lot of Fadiman's At Large and At Small, which includes an essay titled "The Arctic Hedonist")—I think this was largely in part to how Dillard wove the polar exploration narratives into this essay and the way she described the Romantic but sparse prose found in the accounts of these Victorian adventurers.
"A high school stage play is more polished than this service we have been rehearsing since the year one. In two thousand years, we have not worked out the kinks. We positively glorify them. Week after week we witness the same miracle: that God is so mighty he can stifle his own laughter. Week after week, we witness the same miracle: that God, for reasons unfathomable, refrains from blowing our dancing bear act to smithereens. Week after week Christ washes the disciples' dirty feet, handles their very toes, and repeats, It is all right—believe it or not—to be people.
Who can believe it?"
Total Eclipse
An Expedition to the Pole*
Living Like Weasels
In the Jungle
Teaching a Stone to Talk*
Life on the Rocks: The Galápagos*
Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays // Mary Oliver
This is an incredibly lovely collection of some of Mary Oliver's poems about birds, plus some prose pieces. The essay "Bird" about a seagull she and her partner rescued was beautiful and devastating. I loved the entire collection.
Wild Geese
The Dipper
Such Singing in the Wild Branches
The Swan
Owls
Bird*
September
Backyard
Instructions for Traveling West: Poems // Joy Sullivan
I have loved Joy Sullivan's work for a while now and this was one of my most highly anticipated releases of 2024. The titular poem is my very favorite and ironically many of my big moves in that vein entailed my traveling east, but as a long-term inhabitant of the intermountain west I understand the pull that region has on a person and the ethos of the poem resonates deeply.
I have too many favorites to list all of them so here are the poems that I dog-eared:
Instructions for Traveling West*
Safe
Buttercream
State of Emergency
Culpable*
Blessing the Boats: New and Selected Poems // Lucille Clifton
I have loved Lucille Clifton for a long time but had only sporadically read a few of her poems here and there. This is a great volume including some of her best-known poems. Some poems are tragic and devastating, others are wry and humorous. I absolutely love her takes on biblical subjects and how she reimagines these familiar stories in fresh and compelling ways. Other topics she frequently writes about include her family/family history, Black life in America, and womanhood. Some of her poems (including a few listed below) are available to read online through the
Poetry Foundation and
Poets.org.
alabama 9/15/63
what i think when i ride the train
study the masters
why some people be mad at me sometimes
my dream about falling
my dream about God*
my dream about the poet
poem in praise of menstruation
photograph
lot's wife
to my last period
wishes for sons
adam thinking
eve thinking
the story thus far
blessing the boats
note, passed to superman
dear fox
a dream of foxes
(but actually probably all of these warrant an asterisk)
Martyr! // Kaveh Akbar
This was the penultimate book I finished reading this year and one of my favorites. It's the debut novel of Iranian-American poet Kaveh Akbar and received a lot of well-deserved acclaim this year. I found it to be a really lovely exploration of identity, belief, mortality, and art (in the case of these characters, writing and visual arts). Several times while reading I felt distinctly reminded of Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin; I think my main point of mental comparison is that both novels explore creativity in a beautiful and resonant way as a form of self-expression and self-exploration. Martyr! also has a series of dream scenes that reminded me of the game sequences in T&T&T—while these operate as distinctly unique literary devices in each novel, I thought both resulted in a similar effect of infusing the work with an element of magical realism that is very grounded in the narrative and tone of that novel. I also loved the glimpses of the Iranian and Persian poetic tradition (in which Akbar's previous work is obviously grounded) in several chapters as part of the multilinear narrative. Akbar uses the multilinear narrative very effectively in driving the story and revealing the characters. I look forward to reading more of his work (poetry and prose).
The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, vol. 8 // Beth Brower
I loved every minute reading the highly anticipated eighth installment of Miss Emma M. Lion's journals. The previous 7 books in the series are included in my last two years of favorite books, although this year I reread the entire series in the lead-up to book 8 (a partial tandem-reading over Thanksgiving with my friend
Elizabeth in which we sat fire-side with a cat-napping-cat and would read our favorite lines out loud to one another from our respective current installments—a delightful experience which I
highly recommend).
I'm loath to get too specific about book 8 here (STONE!CROP!), lest I delve into spoilers territory, so I'll share my briefest synopsis of the series, as recently pitched to my friend Julia: "1880s London, a 20-something girl who gets herself into the most ludicrous scrapes," to which she correctly responded "Say less I'm INTERESTED"!
I think my favorite thing about Beth's writing in this series is the way she so perfectly captures the highs and lows of Emma's life. These books are SO delightfully funny, and yet at other times are poignant or melancholy, laced with grief. This is the kind of fiction that feels the most true to me, because real life includes all of it. Emma has a particular pluck with which she has very intentionally looked her difficulties in the face and determined to make the best of it—a way of living that I very much admire.
The God of the Woods // Liz Moore
My sister read this novel early in the summer and mentioned a brief reference to our dad's hometown, at which point I immediately added it to my to-read list; we spent a lot of childhood summers visiting extended family in upstate New York, so the book's setting immediately piqued my interest. Moore tells an epic family tale spanning several decades and generations of the Van Laar family and their Adirondack idyll, tinged with tragedy and mystery as two different children of the Van Laar family go missing under mysterious circumstances, their disappearances happening over a decade apart. Moore's writing is wonderful and she kept me guessing the entire time, one of my favorite feelings when reading a book. The less you know going in, the better.
Small Things Like These // Claire Keegan
This is my sister Lauren's favorite book and it's been on my list to read for a couple years. I read it just after Christmas (nicely timed for the setting of the novel around Christmas). Keegan's prose is so sparse and pared down, but she writes about small, specific moments and occurrences that evoke such clear mental pictures of her characters and their lives. This short novel is a beautiful meditation on people and goodness and at a very basic level, what we owe to each other. I've heard wonderful things about the film adaptation as well and hope to watch it soon.
The Crane Wife: A Memoir in Essays // CJ Hauser
I have been a CJ Hauser fan girl ever since her essay "The Crane Wife" was first
published in The Paris Review in 2019 (if you haven't encountered it before, please go read it!!!! I genuinely believe four exclamation points is not too many). Topics of other essays in this collection included a handful of my favorite things/media: Hepburns Katharine and Audrey,
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, and Shirley Jackson/'s house(!).
epigraph to section I
Hepburn Qua Hepburn
The Crane Wife*
Kind of Deep Blue
The Lady with the Lamp
Nights We Didn't
Act Three; Dulcinea Quits
The Second Mrs. de Winter
Unwalling Jackson's Castle
The Fox Farm
Uncoupling*
Siberian Watermelon
The Power Broker: Robert Moses and the Fall of New York // Robert A. Caro
This book represents a significant investment of my time, the book I spent the most time talking about in 2024, and I
wrote a separate review for it here. It's well-regarded for a reason and a great read for anyone interested in the shaping of modern NYC, planning history, and government.
honorable mentions: (with my goodreads reviews linked!)
The Husbands // Holly Gramazio (no formal review on this one, but a very fun and tender debut novel)
/ / /
Thank you for reading! Did we have any favorite books in common this year? I always love hearing what my friends read and loved during the year (or in the past) so I can add to my reading list!