Hello dear readers, I hope you’ve had a lovely month.
A veritable feast of genres for you this month, we’re taking in non-fiction of the economic and animal varieties, a fantasy crime caper, and drama in Italy. Let’s dive in!
One. Edible economics by Ha-Joon Chang
This short introduction to economics takes food as its theme, linking different ingredients like garlic and beef, with economic theories. Some of the links are a real stretch, but the different chapters were always entertaining and his writing style is easy to get along with. He is an academic by training so his research felt rigorous but he is also good at repackaging the complex ideas for a mass audience.
How I read it: On the tube on the way to work
Two. The Explorer by Katherine Rundell
This adventure novel following four children lost in the Amazon jungle was so exciting that I had to stop reading it as my pre-sleep book. In the first chapter, the pilot flying them all to Manaus has a heart attack and crashes the plane, and the action does not stop from then on! It’s also a really beautiful story of friendships formed and reformed, and hearts softening over time. It had swept me up so thoroughly that I found myself crying in big gulps at the end and had to put the book down to collect myself.
How I read it: Mostly over one evening as I couldn’t put it down
Three. The Lost Daughter by Elena Ferrante
This slim standalone volume explores similar themes to the big Neapolitan quartet that I read by the same author last year. The narrator is a woman in her late 40s, children all grown up, who takes herself off for a beach holiday to relax, only to become enmeshed in a domestic drama of her own making. It’s almost suffocating in its tension, even though the stakes are theoretically so low (most of the drama centres around a lost doll). Ferrante is truly incredible at writing characters who do ostensibly terrible things, but who you feel you totally understand.
How I read it: A perfect travel book as it’s less than 200 pages
Four. The Golden Mole by Katherine Rundell
This non-fiction book by Rundell devotes every chapter to a different animal, exploring the wonder of the natural world. It is astonishing, both the prose and the illustrations, which were ringed in gold in the hardback edition I read. It did also make me immensely sad about the horrible things humans do to the world around us - a Bible bound in giraffe skin was a particularly gruesome example which made my skin crawl in sympathy. But overall I was left with a feeling of hope and joy in the wonder of creation, and a determination to look after my corner of it.
How I read it: a few animals a night before bed
Five. The book of form and emptiness by Ruth Ozeki
The thing that really struck me about this novel was Ozeki’s ability to put comedy and tragedy in the same sentence. I loved the beautifully drawn characters, who all felt very real, alongside the surreal narrator of ‘the book’, which is indeed the book itself, narrating its own story. There’s a subplot about a Japanese monk turned tidying guru - essentially a parody of Marie Kondo - which I thought perhaps only half worked, it sometimes felt a bit incongruous. But it didn’t spoil my enjoyment of the whole.
How I read it: Pretty slowly in the evenings as I relished spending time with the characters
Six. The Hexologists by Josiah Bancroft
A light read to finish, this fantasy crime caper throws you right into a world of magic and mystery without wasting time on exposition. I really appreciated that fast paced entry into the story, which swept me along at full tilt. The crime-solving couple at the centre, Iz and Warren Wilby, are very sweet, and their different personalities (and hinted at complex pasts), made for a nice balance. It’s planned as a trilogy, and I look forward to reading the next one!
How I read it: Speeding along on the underground
Book of the month: a really tough month, but I think for the ugly crying it has to be The Explorer.
See you next month friends!