September 2019 Books

I’m still catching up with my reviews so please forgive me if they are a little more brief than normal. There were some great books this month that made their way into my top books of the year, which you can read about here.

Highs

Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders

Well this book was a pleasant surprise. People either seem to love this one or hate it; it is pretty unconventional in style and I was worried it’d be too pretentious for me. However, I found it to be a warm, funny and moving book that explores grief in probably one of the most unique ways I’ve ever seen.

It follows Abraham Lincoln’s son Willie Lincoln’s time in the ‘bardo’ - a space between life and death and rebirth. He died aged eleven whilst his father was in the midst of dealing with the civil war, and the elder Lincoln naturally finds himself torn between his personal and professional lives. Saunders says he was inspired to write the novel when he heard a story that claimed Lincoln visited his son’s crypt to actually hold his body. That little nugget led to this, his first novel (though he was a prolific short story writer).

It is told almost in the style of a play; there will be a section of prose - long or short - which is proceeded by a name of the character that said it. There are chapters that follow the characters that make up the bardo in the graveyard (as you can imagine it’s quite the eclectic mix), and then there are others that compile historical sources - some real, some fictional - which have much the same structure. This provides some of the context for Willie’s life and death and allows those who might not be as familiar with the historical elements to have a better understanding of what’s going on. I found this experimental style enjoyable to read as it gave a real sense of presence and immediacy; as a reader I felt like I was surrounded by the chattering characters and I felt intimate with the moments. I found the treatment of grief and Willie and Lincoln’s relationship very touching, which was enhanced by the immediacy of the style and so though I was really dreading reading this one I ended up loving it.

City of Saints and Madmen by Jeff VanderMeer

This is a wonderfully weird book from one of the godfathers of the New Weird genre. It's a collection of four novellas and some extra material that describes the city of Ambergris, where mushroom-like people feast on its occupants by night, and the Festival of the Squid reigns supreme. It's by turns disturbing and funny, and always surprising. This is definitely a novelist I will continue to follow in the future.

The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy

Following on from Roy’s The God of Small Things, this is a big, ambitious novel that seeks to centre those people who are othered and pushed to the boundaries of society, and tell contemporary history from their point of view. It covers issues in Kashmir most notably, but also the Godhra train burning in 2002 and more generally the power of the media in narratives of terrorism. Whilst it seems to lose some of its drive in the second half, nonetheless it struck me as an important book, and one that radiates empathy for the people it centres.

Lows

Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

I read this book mostly because it is credited as one of the first novels and as you might be able to tell, I bloody love novels. The only interesting thing I thought about on that point was that it was originally published as if it was a real account, and obviously this made me think of the relationship between novels and reality (are they more real than poems or plays? Why?) That’s about as far as I got in enjoying this book. You can’t really judge it against the novels of today, but my, is it boring. I’m sure you’re all familiar with the story; Crusoe gets washed up on an island and makes a life for himself there. But somehow it’s boring. And also extremely racist. Whilst I’m glad I could tick it off my list, I wouldn’t recommend anyone else doing so.

Everything in between

Other Minds by Peter Godfrey-Smith

This nonfiction book explores the consciousness of cephalopods; as intelligent invertebrates they are the closest to an alien intelligence that we can currently study. Whilst I enjoyed the scientific and anecdotal information in the book, I found Godfrey-Smith’s philosophical commentary to be lacking in nuance and was full of assumptions. Worth reading though for the science bits I did pick up.

In the Skin of a Lion by Michael Ondaatje

Prior to Ondaatje’s The English Patient, there was this dreamy novel about immigrant workers in Toronto and their contribution to the city. Like Roy’s novel above, this one seeks to write these people back into the hegemonic narrative. It was an enjoyable read and I’ll definitely be going on to read more Ondaatje, but I couldn’t quite grasp at anything to make it a favourite. It’s written in a swirling mist of a style, moving through different voices and storylines, and its fluidity left me a bit dazed myself.