This month has felt like an absolute eternity, yet somehow the Christmas cheese is still going strong (anyone for three-cheese risotto, again?) I've read ten books this month, mainly because doing laps of the local park with a sleeping baby means ploughing through audiobooks at a ridiculous rate. I'm a big fan of this au-pair lifestyle, if you can't already tell... Anyway, here's what I thought of them:
If Cats Disappeared From The World by Genki Kawamura (4/5)
A young man with a terminal brain tumour creates a bucket list of sorts after being visited by the devil - who in this novel is a lively character named Aloha, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt. Aloha offers the man another day of life for every item he removes from the world: Phones, clocks, movies, etc... What happens when these things no longer exist? Who suffers the consequences? I found it bittersweet and funny.
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata (1/5)
I'd heard great things about this one, with people praising its simplicity and dark humour. It's similar to
Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine, but it was missing something, and was annoyingly repetitive. I stuck it out to the end (I hate not finishing books), but wouldn't recommend.
Earth Is Hiring by Peta Kelly (3/5)
Peta Kelly offers a no-nonsense approach to business, life, relationships and more. Her perspective is inspiring, and for the most part I liked listening to the audiobook, but there were issues I couldn't ignore. For a start, she almost accuses our attitude to money as being the reason we may not have enough of it. This is clearly a privileged view, and ignores the reality of poverty and complex relationships with money. I also don't see how being 'kinder' to money is practical advice for budgeting and managing our incomes... That being said, having this sweary, positive voice in my ears was uplifting, and I'd still recommend giving it a try.
Ghost Wall by Sarah Moss (4/5)
This is the first in mine and Lizzie's 2019 book club (find her
here!) and we both loved it. It's similar to
Our Endless Numbered Days, though far less creepy. Our protagonist Silvie is on a trip with her parents and a group of university students who are studying archaeology. Her father is obsessed with the way humans lived in the Iron Age, and insists that his family re-enact the lifestyle. Which, as you can imagine, escalates dangerously. The book captures how being in a different environment can feel like an entirely new world. It's only a small book but it succeeds in covering a lot of topics: authority, sexism, parenting and friendship.
I Might Regret This by Abbi Jacobson (3/5)
Abbi Jacobson is a comedian, writer, actress, and fellow over thinker. She's also the co-creator of
Broad City (which I've not seen yet). She documents her road trip from New York to L.A., including illustrations of the albums she listens to, and the books she reads on her journey. I loved her essays and ramblings, but the book could definitely have been edited more and tightened up, as it feels quite thrown together. She processes her anxieties and loss - of a relationship and saying goodbye to a show that she's dedicated a chunk of her life to. It's vulnerable, relatable, and genuinely funny.
Wild by Cheryl Strayed (4/5)
From one woman's solo trip to another, I finally read Cheryl Strayed's
Wild. It's a classic for a reason - empowering, heartbreaking, inspiring. After her mother's death, a divorce, and addiction, Cheryl impulsively decides to hike the Pacific Crest Trail - alone, and with no previous wilderness survival experience. It made me want to squeeze my mother, and get out there to experience the kindness of strangers, though I'll happily stick to hostels, instead of a 2,000+ mile hike...
The Sadness of Beautiful Things by Simon Van Booy (3/5)
Inspired by the true stories he's heard over the years, Simon has written this collection. They touch on how tragedy and grief can impact our lives, and they do so brilliantly. Some are hopeful insights into lives, others are bizarre apocalyptic tales, and many end with twists that change the entire narrative. One of my favourites was about an accident involving a child wearing VR glasses which felt like it was straight out of a Black Mirror episode.
'Maybe that's what ghosts are, he thought, feelings so strong they get away'.
Her Body & Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado (4/5)
Carmen's debut collection is definitely my favourite read this month, and filled the Angela Carter shaped hole in my life I hadn't noticed was missing. These stories are a mixture of science fiction, horror and fairytale, dealing with power, violence and women's bodies. The star for me was 'Husband Stitch', in which a woman wears a velvet ribbon around her neck that her husband and son are forbidden to touch. In 'Inventory', a woman lists her sexual encounters as a virus kills off humanity. This reminded me of
Perfect Sense, and falling in love in a time of global chaos.
Monogamy by Adam Phillips (4/5)
My sister gifted me this collection for Christmas and I loved it. There are 121 short thoughts on monogamy, infidelity and life spent seeking that one 'perfect' other. I found the perspectives on the dependent nature of children and their understandings of our many commitments as adults really interesting. Adam manages to be neutral and funny while observing our obsession with problematic relationships as a society.
'Every marriage is a blind date that makes you wonder what the alternatives are to a blind date'.
'A couple is a conspiracy in search of a crime. Sex is often the closest they can get'.
Midnight Chicken & Other Recipes Worth Living For by Ella Risbridger (5/5)
This is a memoir-cookbook hybrid, which is by far my favourite genre. It's filled with Ella's reflections on the times food saved her. Her partner, John (who she credits for teaching her how to cook) died last year and so ultimately, the book is a love letter to him. I've already made a few of the recipes and can confirm that they are delicious and do-able, even on Bad Days and when a
tiny bit
drunk. Her writing is gentle and realistic as she guides you through the cooking process. Warning to everyone I know: I'll probably gift you a copy of this at some point, because we all need one.
'Onions, like heartbreak or fine wines, only get better with time'
