favorite books of 2018

8:34 PM Elizabeth 0 Comments


As usual, I spent much of 2018 with my nose in a book. Without further ado, a list of my favorite reads from last year.

In a break from my usual convention, I've marked several with a note, "required reading," as I feel that they are—do with that as you see fit!
For poetry, stories, and essays/where I felt the need, I've included a list of my favorites and very favorites* (with an asterisk).

The Colossus and Other Poems // Sylvia Plath
I fell in love with Sylvia Plath's prose reading The Bell Jar, and quickly thereafter with her poetry while reading this volume. Before, I'd read the occasional poem of hers, but in hindsight I feel that reading a collection of her work gave me a stronger sense of her voice, and allowed her poetic style to shine through for me (fancy that). I love reading extensively of an author's work, because I find that often my favorites are not the same ones that get anthologized or receive the most time in the limelight. Indeed, my favorite poem in this volume was Spinster, which I doubt I would have ever come across otherwise. It resonated with me so strongly (fancy that) and underscored so much of what I love about her writing. Her vocabulary is stellar, and her use of poetic device (internal rhyme, consonance, alliteration, on and on) is absolutely brilliant. I've had her unabridged journals among my personal library and that volume is high on my to-be-read figurative stack for 2019.

favorites:
The Disquieting Muses
Spinster*
Mussel Hunter at Rock Harbor


Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Women's Anger // Soraya Chemaly
required reading

I have talked, ad nauseum, about this book for the last month to anyone who will listen. The title and the reactions it has generated among my listeners is a sort of microcosm of the book itself, which I find fascinating. The title isn't a misnomer—the book is, in fact, about women and anger—, but because of the connotations and perceptions associated with women's anger, I found in many of my conversations that the very title of this book was almost a turn-off to would-be readers.

Chemaly writes about women's anger, but she also writes about so. much. more. I was blown away throughout my reading by the depth and breadth of this volume, and the extensive research supporting the text. Chemaly writes of the systemic and age-old inequalities faced by women and girls, and how these factors influence everything else, in every aspect and area of life. I appreciated Soraya Chemaly's intersectional perspective—as a woman of color, she had her own experiences to recount, but also addressed the data and experiences of Black and other women of color; in doing so, she frequently addressed racism alongside sexism and misogyny. Chemaly also noted the narrowness of scope of much of the research at her disposal with regard to gender binaries. I could go on and on—it's difficult to succinctly sum up all the ground covered in this book, but I think it is an important, empowering, and necessary read for all.


We Crossed a Bridge and It Trembled: Voices from Syria // edited by Wendy Pearlman
required reading

Wendy Pearlman is a professor of Arabic and Middle Eastern Studies at Northwestern University, and this book contains excerpts and accounts from several hundred displaced Syrian individuals who she interviewed. The introduction chronicles eight distinct episodes or times in recent Syrian political history, which I felt was a very effective means of orienting readers (me included) to the political progression of the Syrian government from past to present. The ensuing text was then divided into eight corresponding sections—I marked the introductory history primer and would frequently refer back to it to re-establish helpful context. The text itself is beautifully translated into English from transcripts of the original interviews in Arabic. The experiences recounted are broad and varied, some hopeful and heartfelt, others angered or resigned. These stories were real and raw and so many of them left me feeling pierced through with the depth of their emotion and poignancy.


Sea Prayer // text by Khaled Hosseini, illustrated by Dan Williams
This seems a fitting accompaniment to the book immediately aforementioned, as both pertain to the subject of the refugee plight of Syria, though this book is certainly accessible to a younger audience. Hosseini's prose storytelling alongside Dan Williams' spare and striking watercolor illustrations are a perfect pairing. The text is beautiful and haunting, and concludes with Hosseini's tribute to the thousands of refugees who have died or disappeared during their journeys to safety. I came across this among my local library's new arrivals, and am so glad I did.


Awayland: stories // Ramona Ausubel
I checked this out from the library on account of its pretty cover, and shortly thereafter tracked down my own copy because I was so enchanted by Ramona Ausubel's unique voice. Her prose is heartbreakingly beautiful, and her stories carry notes of magical realism. Though magical realism doesn't quite seem the way to describe it—my favorites of her stories have an airy sparkling lightness while being grounded in deeply felt emotion. Others of her stories take a more wryly humorous approach, turning something normal and routine on end. I enjoyed both types, and some stories I did not much care for, but the ones I loved—I loved.

favorites:
Fresh Water from the Sea*
Remedy
High Desert*
Heaven
The Animal Mummies Wish to Thank the Following*


Places I Stopped on the Way Home // Meg Fee
I read Meg Fee's ebook by the same title several years ago and thoroughly enjoyed it. Her blog has been a favorite of mine for years, her writing a beacon during this tumultuous, turntable (can I use that as an adjective? too late, I'm doing it) time of my 20s. I was so pleased and proud of her progression as a writer from ebook to real-book, the growth of this work and her end result. This volume is a wonderful memoir recounting the places in between in this very in-between phase of life. I so appreciate her words on life and love, and her prose always puts a pin in something I can never quite seem to. love love love.


Future Home of the Living God // Louise Erdrich
This novel was incredible. This was my first introduction to Louise Erdrich's writing (of which I have known by reputation for years, why has it taken me so long to read her work!!) and it was masterful. I loved the themes and ideas she explored, and this is a pressing, prescient work with its dystopian premise and deeper messages. Erdrich's prose is beautiful and I hope to read much more of her work this year.

"The sky has bloomed, it is verdant with stars. I've never seen stars like this before. Deep, brilliant, soft. I am comforted because nothing we have done to this earth affects them. I think of the neurons in your brain connecting, branching, forming the capacity I hope you will have for wonder. They are connecting, like galaxies. Perhaps we function as neurons ourselves, interconnecting thoughts in the giant mud of God."


Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in Forty Questions // Valeria Luiselli
required reading

This was one of the first books I read in 2018, and I've been feeling of late that I'm due for a reread. Valeria Luiselli works as a translator in a NYC federal immigration court, assisting in translation for unaccompanied minors who have arrived in the United States from Central America. She recounts each of the forty questions from the intake questionnaires administered to these children, some as young as two or three years old. The questions and their evident complexity and obtusity lie in stark contrast to the accounts of many of these children and the terrors they are fleeing in their home countries, and the realities of immigration court and legal proceedings. During the course of 2018, as family separation policies were enacted, children are dying in U.S. custody at the border, and the border-wall-induced-government-shutdown looms/is partially underway, this volume remains ever-relevant, necessary reading.

Honestly the blurb on the back cover puts it best: "An indictment of our treatment of undocumented children, a reckoning with our culpability for the dangers they are fleeing, and a damning confrontation between the ideals of the American dream and the reality of American racism and fear, Tell Me How It Ends is required reading for anyone concerned with human rights, human dignity, and our most fundamental responsibilities to each other. Luiselli's encounter with asylum seekers demands we see these children. What we do next is up to us."


Wade in the Water // Tracy K. Smith
required reading, including and especially the endnotes

This is a deeply felt and soulful volume of poetry. I had the immense privilege to hear Tracy K. Smith speak in Kansas City, Missouri earlier this year, after I had read this collection (I posted about her remarks and reading here) and it was amazing to hear her read from her body of work. The book contains a combination of her original poetry and found poems she composed, using primary source documents of several distinct types. Smith's brilliance shines through in both types, even while she treats the original sources with integrity and reverence. I highly recommend that readers read the Notes section at the conclusion of the volume (or even flip back while reading the relevant poems), as it illuminates her process and the origins of that part of this collection.

favorites:
Garden of Eden*
Hill Country*
The World is Your Beautiful Younger Sister
Wade in the Water*
Declaration
The Greatest Personal Privation*
I Will Tell You the Truth about This, I Will Tell You All about It*
New Road Station
Theatrical Improvisation
Watershed*
Eternity
Urban Youth
Refuge*



Light the Dark: Writers on Creativity, Inspiration, and the Artistic Process // edited by Joe Fassler
From the preface, penned by Fassler, on this collection, a continuation of a series he began for The Atlantic called By Heart: "I ask working artists (many of them writers) to choose a favorite passage from literature, the lines that have hit them hardest over the course of a lifetime's reading. Each person looks closely at his or her selection, explains its personal impact, and makes a case for why it matters. Taken together, these pieces offer a rare glimpse into the creative mind at work—how artists learn to think, how they find inspiration, and how they get things done."

This book, essentially a collection of essays by beloved writers, writing about reading and writing, originally caught my attention due to my insatiable need to read every word written by Marilynne Robinson. When I saw the list of other names gracing the cover, I knew it was going to be good. Indeed, good does not even begin to cover it. There is so much to love, as evidenced by my lengthly list of dog-eared, pencil-stricken favorites.

favorites:
Light the Dark - Aimee Bender
Leaving the Reservation of the Mind - Sherman Alexie
In Praise of Stubborn Gladness - Elizabeth Gilbert
A Friend of the Mind - Junot Díaz
Everything I Meant to Say - Khaled Hosseini
Stealing Plums and Counting Stones - Jim Crace
Into the Heart's Deep Core - Billy Collins
Neglect Everything Else - David Mitchell
Against Unreality - Ayana Mathis
Lose Yourself - Karl Ove Knausgaard
On Commonness - Leslie Jamison
The Edge of Sense - Jesse Ball
A Place to Call My Own - Angela Flournoy
Into the Wardrobe, Into the Self - Lev Grossman
Words on Paper Will Outlast Us - Claire Messud
My Favorite Curmudgeon - Jonathan Franzen
Writing for Right Now - Hanya Yanagihara
Enough About Me - Azar Nafisi
The Brain is Larger Than the Sea - Marilynne Robinson


The Bell Jar // Sylvia Plath
The Bell Jar is, quite simply, one of the most brilliant novels I've ever read. Plath's writing is striking and gorgeous, and she paints a rich inner life for Esther Greenwood, with an autobiographical bent. I was absorbed from the onset and finished this book in just a couple of days, never without a pencil nearby and underlining more often than not. Sylvia Plath is the metaphor queen and I am in awe.


Decolonizing Mormonism // edited by Gina Colvin & Joanna Brooks
required reading

While as of this writing, I have not finished reading this book, I felt it a necessary inclusion in the year's favorites, as it has been an important book among my reading this year. I have been reading through it one essay at a time, considering and learning from each as a lesson in how I approach religion and faith with my upbringing and participation in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As my reading is still very much in progress, my thoughts are not fully formed, but suffice it to say, I think this is essential reading for anyone sharing my faith tradition. Even those outside of Mormonism can find much to consider in the way of adopting and advancing toward a more global and international, intersectional perspective in their faith (also, shoutout/hat-tip to my friend Alicia Harris, whose work is included in this volume!).


Waste Free Kitchen Handbook // Dana Gunders
I bought this book a while back, but finally prioritized a cover-to-cover reading this year. I've been taking steps toward a zero waste lifestyle, and being a more conscientious consumer and resident of planet earth go hand-in-hand. Food waste is a huge issue across the United States, and I have been trying to be especially cognizant of the mitigating steps I can take there. This book is a phenomenal addition to any home kitchen—it is full of practical, manageable steps you can take toward meal planning and prepping, grocery shopping and food storage, and even contains a section of recipes for how to make the most of the things you buy and use. There is also a great section on blanching pretty much every different type of vegetable. I highly recommend this little reference volume to help you make the most of your money and food and to eat well and care for the earth while doing so. It's a win-win-win-win.


My Family and Other Animals // Gerald Durrell
Technically I've not finished this, either, but the bulk of it was read in 2018, so I am including it here. Recommended by Elizabeth, it was even more delightful than I anticipated—I've yet to see the PBS treatment, but hope to watch it soon (have you read this or watched that?). I love Gerald Durrell's humor and candidness, and I think I have basically burst into laughter every other page. This is a riotous, charming account of Durrell's childhood on the Greek island of Corfu (his family moved there from England on account of the dreariness of their British Isle-and home), moving from villa to villa with his family, and his romping around with Roger the family dog in search of all of the creatures, great and small.


Do you have any 2018 favorites to share? Anything you are especially excited to read in 2019? Happy New Year and happy reading, friends!


 • see also: favorite books of 2017 & 2016 • 

0 notes :