I’ve only read about thirty books this year. This is according to my Goodreads account. I know that there are a few other books that didn’t make it onto Goodreads (including some interesting books about Thai politics and history), but all the same, I only read about 30 books. Just one of those years.
I did read some very thought-provoking books this year, though. And there are a few that I am still thinking about, months after I’ve read them. So instead of a Top 10, I’ll include a few of my favorite (and most thought-provoking-I’m-still-thinking-about-these-books-and-would-love-to-talk-about-them) reads from this year.
The Neapolitan Quartet (My Brilliant Friend, The Story of a New Name, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, and The Story of the Lost Child), by Elena Ferrante
To be fair, I didn’t start this series this year. The only two I read this year were Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay and The Story of the Lost Child. But I finished the series this year, and I can’t stop thinking about these books. When I started the series in 2018 (on the recommendation from some friends), I just couldn’t get into it. I recognized that the first book, My Brilliant Friend, was well-written and I was fascinated by the friendship between the two main characters, Lena and Lila, but it was just hard for me to get into (partly because of the many “thematic elements” in the story).
I don’t know what changed, but a few years later, I picked up the second book in the series from a Little Free Library in D.C., and somewhere in the postpartum wobbliness after my daughter’s birth, I thought, “I want to see if I want to finish this series.” And for some reason, the second book pulled me into the series in a way the first one didn’t. Maybe it was timing. But I knew that I had to finish the series. It still deals with the difficulties, complexities, and violence of growing up in post-WWII Naples. The narrator of the series drives me crazy at times. It fits the bill (as one of my cousins calls these kinds of books) of “sad books about sad people having sad affairs.”
And yet. The series is incredible. I think that the way Ferrante describes the realities of female friendship—the love, the jealousies, the cooperation, the scheming, the competition, the giving and taking (and often taking more than giving)—is possibly the best exploration of female friendship I have ever read. The last book of the series, The Story of the Lost Child, is breathtakingly tragic. I still need someone to discuss these books with, so if you have read them and want to talk about them, I am here! I’m still thinking about them.
Moby Dick, by Herman Melville
I still don’t know how I managed to get an undergraduate degree in English literature and a PhD in 19th-century U.S. history and still not have read this book. I’ve now remedied that. I agree that it is a (perhaps the?) masterpiece of 19th century American literature. The language especially captivated me (I’m still thinking about the scenes in the whaler’s chapel, the ambergris, and that final chase scene). I also have a newfound appreciation for and awe of whales.
The Mother Artist: Portraits of Ambition, Limitation, and Creativity, by Catherine Ricketts
According to my Goodreads account, I only gave this book a 4 out of 5 stars. I still stand by that rating, but I also say that I can’t stop thinking about this book. I think it is a lovely meditation on creativity, work, making and writing about art, and early motherhood. I appreciated that the book did not dwell only on the throes of early motherhood (as so many books about motherhood seem to do), and went beyond that first year to explore how motherhood transforms her and informs her work and her sense of self.
A few lines have stuck with me, including a conversation she has with a contemporary artist: “Don’t let anyone ever make you feel ashamed for choosing or prioritizing your family,” as well as some concluding lines:
“Our vision of the world is shaped by what we see. What an artist sees, therefore, shapes the world that she shows to others in her work. Again and again, I look at these frail, magnificent bodies. I look at them to be sure they’re safe. I look at them because they demand it of me: ‘Mama, look at me!’ ‘Mama, come find me!’ And I look at them because they are so beautiful I can’t stop looking.
“When I’m with them, I catch myself staring. When I leave them, I study their photographs. In all this looking, my view of the world is reframed by maternal humanism, composed of awe, curiosity, and adoration for the vulnerable ones of this world—which is, to say, all of us.
“Why persevere in making art? Because our communities need art made by those who can’t take their eyes off of the vulnerable ones of this world.” (The Mother Artist, p. 187)
Re-writing and typing those lines still make me a bit weepy.
Honorable Mentions ~
Bangkok Wakes to Rain, by Pitchaya Sudbanthad
Sam bought this book for me last Christmas, right after we moved to Bangkok, but I didn’t read it until a few months ago. It is a beautiful exploration of the city through time (and into an imagined future). The author does a wonderful job weaving histories together and really making the city come alive with sounds, smells, sights, and textures. I don’t know if I would have appreciated the book as much if I had read it last December since now I actually know the street names and places mentioned. That said, if you are looking for a fiction novel to get a feel for Bangkok, I would recommend this one.
Maisie Dobbs, by Jacqueline Winspear
This was given to me for a book club Christmas book exchange (thanks, Rachael!). It’s the first book of what I expect to be a winsome series. I’m surprised (but also glad?) that I haven’t read the series yet, since now I have some fun reading to look forward to in 2025.
Picture Books ~
Picture books certainly deserve their own category, because I have definitely read more than 30 picture books this year. Here are a few of my favorites:
Cars and Trucks and Things That Go, by Richard Scarry. A classic for a reason. The humor is delightful for little kids and grown ups, the illustrations and characters are so fun, and I love the made-up words and cars.
Little Bear, by Elise Holmelund Minark. Also a classic for a reason. The Little Bear books are just so cozy to read.
Outside Over There, by Maurice Sendak. I read this picture book for the first time this year. I got it for myself at the library, since it had been mentioned by a few nonfiction writers I’ve read. It is a haunting fairy tale, with changelings and sisterly love and magical music. I thought it might be too scary for my oldest (and I still think that it is), but he found it anyway and wants to read it again and again for its strangeness and beauty. My daughter likes it, too. (She likes all the babies . . . and she kind of looks like the little baby sister in the book, which makes the story all the more poignant for me.)
Next year, I have a goal to read books on our shelves that I have meant to read, but haven’t yet. It’s an attempt to catch up on my “to-be-read” list, and we’ll see how it goes! If you have any recommendations, I’d love to hear them.
We need to be Goodreads friends!
I have most of the Maisie Dobbs books on my shelf, waiting for you to spend a month or two in Kansas. Love you. Grandma