November. What a month. I arrived home after travelling (mostly) alone for two months, feeling overwhelmed and excited and almost every emotion in-between. I'm now ridiculously ready to cover everything in tinsel. Anyway, where were we? Right - books.
Here's what I thought of what I read this month:
The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes 4/5
This is inspired by the real librarians who worked in Kentucky between 1935 and 1943. Women delivered books on horseback to those living in rural areas. The programme was incredibly empowering and they managed to get books to over a hundred thousand people! This follows a group of rebellious, brave women as they challenge societal norms. The characters are well-fleshed out and although the plot is a little slow at times, there are some surprising twists.
'Maybe that's the thing we need to understand, Alice. That some things are a gift, even if you don't get to keep them.'
I’ve not read much of Sedaris’ work, but after listening to this I’m desperate to read more. A hilarious collection of stories commenting on daily life. It's shocking, relatable and has been referred to as ‘required reading for those who loathe small talk and love a good tumor joke’. This had me cry-laughing in public. What more could you want?
I re-read to this for the first time in thirteen years as I wanted a refresher before the new film adaptation comes out next month. Sadly I didn’t enjoy it as much as I did when I was younger. I found it frustrating and repetitive and the families obsession with being good felt uncomfortable. Although, it’s possible that listening to the audiobook version had an impact on my overall experience…
This is a collection of essays, poems and general ramblings from famous people about their relationships with mental health. Matt Haig, Reggie Yates, Miranda Hart, Hannah Witton, and so many more. Some of the pieces are funny, most are heart breaking, and all are extremely useful. A great coffee table book, and a good Christmas gift option.
This zine includes twenty poems about Norms’ twenties. Some are about the struggle of finding yourself, of losing love and hope. All are beautiful. She offered 2 for 1 for pre-orders, so I’ve framed some pages from my spare copy!
'We are gorged on love songs and pregnant with poetry,
Birthing busking songs before babies and opening ISAs
For the end of the world.'
Following on from her viral New York Times essay in 2015, Catron's book looks at our relationship with love stories, and how we share ours with the world. She examines scientific studies as well as her own relationships, trying to find out whether we can truly work out what really makes love last. It’s insightful, well-researched and beautifully written. I highly recommend it to anyone else who is as obsessed with the nature of love as I am.
'But the abundance of how-we-met stories means we know a lot about falling in love - how it should feel and what we might say or do to influence its intensity and direction - but we don't have many scripts for making that love last.'
'The pleasures of recognising that one may have to undergo the same realizations, write the same notes in the margin, return to the same theme’s in one’s work, relearn the same emotional truths, write the same book over and over again - not because one is stupid or obstinate or incapable of change, but because such revisions constitute a life.'
This award-winning French novel has been translated by the brilliant Molly Ringwald and is absolutely stunning. It's mainly set in the summer of 1984, as two teenage boys begin an affair which will impact the rest of their lives. It looks at the strong bonds we form in adolescence, at shame and denial and love.
'This passion that can’t be talked about, that has to be concealed, gives way to the terrible question: if it isn’t talked about, how can one know that it really exists? One day, when it’s over, when it finally comes to an end, no one will be able to attest to what took place.'
'This feeling of love, it transports me, it makes me happy. But it also consumes me and makes me miserable, the way all impossible loves are miserable.'