Books of 2007
Just like last time, I’m going to break it down by genre. I’ll provide links to my most favorites, but there’s 53 of them, so some of them you have to look up yourself. Sorry. I’ll separate it into my Top 10 for each genre, then the rest. Ok, wait, that might be cheating, because if I have 3 genres, that’s 30 out of 53 books that are my "best". Fine. Shut up. Maybe I’ll only do the Top 5 for mystery and sci-fi.
General Fiction
The Pact — Jody Picoult
Little Children — Tom Perotta
Love Among the Ruins — Robert Clark
The Number We End Up With — Beth Goldner
The History of Love — Nicole Krauss
The Book of Illusions — Paul Auster
On Love — Alain de Botton
The Egyptologist — Arthur Phillips
Ibid: A Novel — Mark Dunn
The Abstinence Teacher — Tom Perotta
You’ll notice a couple of repeat authors on the list, which is a sure sign I enjoy them. I have so many books in the queue that when I insist upon reading another one by them ahead of all the others…well, nuff said. It was really a great year for general fiction for me. A number of these books you’ll recognize from A Year in the Words of Others, particularly such unheralded gems as Love Among the Ruins and On Love, both of which I found incidentally and had never heard of–much less anticipated enjoying as immensely as I did.
All of these books had something remarkable about them. The Pact was a poignant exploration of grief and confusion that needs to be read to truly appreciated for its realism. Little Children was a depiction of the letdowns of one’s thirties, when it seems as if your dreams have dried up and that you’re washed ashore far from the course you originally charted. For the record, the movie was also brilliant, but changed the ending. I was disappointed, as I felt the book’s ending was much better. Thus, if you saw it in the theater, give the book a try. For me. Thanks. It encouraged me to read moer of this works, such as The Abstinence Teacher, another search-for-oneself sort of novel that seems to be his hallmark. I really need to read more of his books. I liked Teacher because it really gave a balanced viewpoint of the two protagonists–one religious, one not–and wove their stories in a way I did not anticipate.
Goldner wrote about grief and idiosyncrasy, with one of the most enjoyable lead characters I’ve met in ages, and possibly more obsessive than me. Krauss wove a complex web about a girl in search of a man in search of a woman that melted me. I’ve really become a fan of books with multiple points-of-view, that allow you to see the world through multiple sets of eyes. On Love is just about that..a complete dissection of a relationship, from first meeting to last thoughts, that I read during my healing from The Breakup. If there was one book that spoke to me, that resonated in my soul this past year, it was that one. I had to steadfastly resist simply quoting entire chapters at a time. It’s not one for people who aren’t romantic, or whose hearts are encased in ice. For softies like me who give themselves consummately to love? It’s a must-read.
The Egyptologist is the funniest book I read this year. It’s not a comedy, nor really a farce, but it’s a wry depiction of a number of characters that catches you off guard with its slow disintegration of truth and perception. By the end, I was just amazed at the sheer audacity. It was so good that I have pledged to read every book of Mr. Phillips’ as well. He isn’t on The List, though. Paul Auster is. I can’t describe Auster except that his books often revolve around happenstance and the search for identity, both of which I’ve analyzed plenty of times myself. Each of his books is unique, but if you have to start with one, start with The Book of Illusions.
Ibid, by Mr. Dunn, is the most original of the works I’m sharing here. It is completely outside-the-box; it’s a novel consisting entirely of footnotes to an imaginarily-destroyed manuscript. Sounds silly to some, but the way he pulls it off is amazing. Not only is it quite comical throughout, but he manages to create a persistent narrative even despite the footnote mechanism. If you’re willing to try something new, read it. It blew me away and kept me in stitches.
Other notable fiction books I read were:
All He Ever Wanted — Anita Shreve
Captain Alatriste — Arturo Perez-Reverte
Purity of Blood — Arturo Perez-Reverte
Man Walks Into A Room — Nicole Krauss
The Brooklyn Follies — Paul Auster
Oracle Night — Paul Auster
Saving Fish From Drowning — Amy Tan
The Myth of You and Me — Leah Stewart
My Lover’s Lover — Maggie O’Farrell
Remainder — Tom McCarthy
Angelica — Arthur Phillips
Ella Minnow Pea — Mark Dunn
Many good books. A few average books. O’Farrell and McCarthy’s outings were merely average, though they had some good moments. I didn’t read any BAD books this year, really, though these two were the closest. Dunn’s book is whimsical and fun–it’s about an island that gradually makes letters of the alphabet illegal, and thus the entire book begins using fewer and fewer of them. The effort to write it must have been extraordinary, and if nothing else, Ella and Ibid (above) cement Mr. Dunn as extremely creative and intelligent. Amy Tan’s book was interesting, but a bit wordy at times. The Captain Alatriste series (and its sequel, Purity of Blood) is a fun swashbuckling novel that is an excellent light read if you’re simply looking for something to liven up your mood, like a 1950’s pirate movie. I can’t wait to read the rest of the books in it. The Shreve book was really quite good, and I almost put it in my top 10, but it barely missed the cut despite a simply beautiful ending.
Mystery/Thriller
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Special-Topics-Calamity-Physics-Marisha/d
p/0143112120/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1200081927&sr=1-1″>Special Topics in Calamity Physics — Marisha Pessl
Sharp Objects — Gillian Flynn
Berlin Noir — Philip Kerr
Life Expectancy — Dean Koontz
A Monstrous Regiment of Women — Laurie King
A Good and Happy Child — Justin Evans
Pessl’s book is a noir. But it’s not just any noir. It’s precocious. It features a teenage heroine that’s far more literate than anyone has a right to be. It’s a twist on the noir, atmosphere thick with metaphor, full of cultural references and brilliantly rendered descriptions. Some of my favorite Year in Words quotes are from this book, and much like On Love above, I eventually had to stop marking ones to type up, because I would have just wound up with the entire book. I’ve called this book daunting because it’s so erudite and amazing. It sneaks up on you, with a gradual reveal and setup that resounds with a emotional climax and a stunning end reveal that left me agape.
Sharp Objects is the first novel by an EW writer I’ve always enjoyed. Her book didn’t disappoint. You know I love damaged main characters, and hers certainly is. Kerr was a very pleasant surprise. This is true noir, again featuring excellent writing, a staccato of nuance and rhythm that you can become lost in. There are three stories, all taking place during various stages of World War II. The lead character, Bernie Gunther, is German, and it provides a fascinating historical study not only of the rise and fall of the Nazi party, but of the German people. Kerr grabs you by the lapels and dares you to witness the despair, confusion, and destruction–both of the war and a once-proud people.
The Koontz book is a mystery where you know what will happen; Jimmy Tock is the son of a baker. His grandfather, who died at the moment of Jimmy’s birth, predicts five dates that will be filled with terrible events. Sounds easy, right? Jimmy and his family know the dates, yet the manner in which Koontz keeps both he and the reader completely off guard (without the events being contrived) is astonishing. This is a fantastic novel.
King’s book appealed to me solely because of the title. I found it was actually the second book in the series, and thus read The Beekeeper’s Apprentice below. King has taken the character of Sherlock Holmes and reinvigorated it, by adding a female sidekick. I know, that doesn’t sound promising, yet as a person who grew up reading Holmes, I can safely say she stays true to Doyle’s style. Moreso, she’s convincingly created a female that fits, a combination of traits that is both believable and a perfect match for Holmes. Beekeeper was the introductory novel,and I liked it, but Regiment is where she truly hit her stride. I have the entire series waiting to be read, and look forward to polishing a few off soon.
Finally, A Good and Happy Child. Spooky. Absorbing. What could have been a trite setup–a boy sees demons others don’t–is a gripping and intense psychological thriller with characters that leave you begging for more. I heard wonderful things about this book, but they couldn’t do it justice.
The other books in this genre were:
B is for Burglar — Sue Grafton
C is for Corpse — Sue Grafton
Brother Odd — Dean Koontz
In the Bleak Midwinter — Julia Spencer-Fleming
By the Light of the Moon — Dean Koontz
Mr. Murder — Dean Koontz
Murder on the Leviathan — Boris Akunin
The Beekeeper’s Apprentice — Laurie King
The Coldest Blood — Jim Kelly
These are, for the most part, pretty standard. Grafton is a good, reliable author who well deserves her popularity. Her alphabet novels don’t blow you away, but they’re good reads that don’t disappoint, and excellent books to take with you on trips to the beach. Brother Odd was the third book in the series by Dean Koontz, he who I’ve said before is most akin to my voice. These are my favorite books by him, as Odd is a remarkable character whose heroism is only surpassed by his dry humor.
The other Koontz novels were also good; standard thriller fare up to his usual caliber of writing. The Akunin book was one in a series, and reminded me strongly of Agatha Christie. I really would like to read more of his books, since I really love all mysteries. For as much as I love the dark and smoldering noir or the classic whodunit, I also like the everyone-is-a-suspect-in-a-locked-room stories where everyone lies and manipulates–and pretty much is guilty of something they don’t want anyone to know about.
The only book I didn’t like was Kelly’s. It just fell flat for me. I couldn’t really get into the mystery or the characters, unfortunately.
Sci-Fi/Fantasy
The Brief History of the Dead — Kevin Brockmeier
The Road — Cormac McCarthy
Replay — Ken Grimwood
Fatal Revenant — Stephen R. Donaldson
Cold Skin — Albert Sanchez Pinol
Twilight — Stephenie Meyer
Alright. Now these are in my wheelhouse. One aspect of this genre that I treasure is the diversity. Twilight is a standard vampire/romance thriller, but has a surprising sweetness to it. Written for a teen audience, it’s a bit tamer than the adult fare I’m used to (c.f. Laurell K. Hamilton). It took me awhile to warm to the male protagonist, and Meyer does an excellent job of revealing the characters. The relationship between Bella and Edward is extremely romantic and beautiful, in a fated-to-be-together, can’t-resist-the-allure, eyes-always-on-each-other sort of way. It evolves in an extremely natural manner, and I found myself swept up in it since, after all, I’ve long sought the same in my own life. I
ncluding the vampire part. =p
Cold Skin is a chilling account of a man and his companion stranded in the Antarctic fighting a neverending swarm of sea creatures during a year of isolation. Overtones of Cthulhu color the anguish and desperation. It’s a very quick read; I polished it off in two sittings. If you like classic suspense horror that focuses more on slow attrition rather than gore and shock value, read it.
Fatal Revenant is the latest in the epic Thomas Covenant series, which you can read about elsewhere. Donaldson is responsible for some of my favorite works, including The Gap series, which is my personal sci-fi champion. I first began reading the Covenant series around age 10 or 11, and though I didn’t quite grasp the depth of it at the time, it was enthralling. The first two trilogies ended long ago, and he’s now writing a third set of book (quadrology?) to wrap up the series for good. The first one, Runes of the Earth, was good but not quite up to the standards I expected, which may simply be because they were set so high. However, Fatal Revenant was great; I couldn’t put it down, and it brought back the edge-of-my-seat, cliffhanger-after-every-chapter that make his works so wonderful. I cannot wait for books 3 and 4.
Brockmeier’s novel was original and thought-provoking, revolving essentially around the premise that when we die, we go to another realm of existence where we exist until everyone who remembers us on Earth has passed on. I can’t do it justice, except to say: Go read it. It’s another very quick read, but doesn’t leave you unsatisfied–though it will make you think for months.
No one does bleak like Cormac McCarthy, who writes like the inevitable shifting of the earth, both methodical and majestic. His laconic style occasionally turns some off, but his natural grasp of the way people converse (as opposed to the stylized way they do in other novels) and the very real effects of tragedy and ruin are incredible. The Road is a post-apocalyptic novel about a man and his son. It’s haunting and brilliant. Where many sci-fi novels may alternately lecture us or attempt to overwhelm us with technological aptitude, McCarthy’s talent is that he lets the story be told through the characters, their movements, their language, and the manner in which he brings the world to life so that it’s vivid and encompassing–yet succinct. McCarthy does not waste words.
Finally, Replay, by Ken Grimwood, which is probably my book of the year. Last year it was The Time Traveler’s Wife. As you know, I’m a sucker for time travel, as I’ve always been fascinated by the what-ifs and could-have-beens of not only my life, but others. This story examines a man who dies in middle age and wakes up in his college dorm room–but with all of his memories and knowledge intact. The way in which he goes about living his life again–and then again, and again–is arresting. There are numerous twists that I didn’t expect, and every timeline is played out so that not only do you believe in the veracity of it, but you understand his frustration upon losing it all, only to start anew. The ending to the book is currently photocopied and taped to my computer desk.
Others:
Hotel Transylvania — Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Anansi Boys — Neal Gaiman
Monstrous Regiment — Terry Pratchett
Bright of the Sky — Kay Kenyon
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows — J.K. Rowling
A Shortcut in Time — Charles Dickinson
A Grey Moon Over China — Thomas Day
The Shadow Thieves — Anne Ursu
Sun of Suns — Karl Schroeder
There were hits and misses in this bunch. I was highly satisfied with the conclusion to the Harry Potter series, and not much needs to be written about it. Gaiman’s book was an enjoyable fable that is the sequel in spirit to his book from last year, American Gods. His imagination is extraordinary, and I’ve really become quite a fan of his, whether it be fiction, graphic novel, or juvenile fiction.
Yarbro writes a series about the vampire St. Germain, and Hotel Transylvania was the first book. I’d like to return to the world, as I found it quite enjoyable, but not quite enough to cause me to ravenously devour it. It’s definitely the vampire-as-gentleman type, a throwback to the days of the noble but suffering hero who diligently must protect his secret or face ruin.
The Pratchett book was an over-the-top farce, sort of like Monty Python meets fantasy fiction. He writes a number of books in this series, and while I liked it well enough, the constant barrage of humor got to me after awhile. I like comedy, but I prefer a bit more depth to my fiction nowadays. Kenyon’s novel I found very intriguing, about a man who slips into an alternate universe, then is thrown back to ours after many years with his memories erased. The book, the first in a trilogy, describes his return to that universe and the slow revelation of his memory of what happened–which alternately excites and dismays him as he finds out he isn’t who he thought he was. I look forward to the sequel.
Shortcut in Time was a fun time travel book that I liked well enough but didn’t love. Grey Moon was a "dirty" sci-fi novel, and by that I mean a future where the world isn’t pretty and shiny, but beaten, run-down, with technology that feels more real than fantastic, a world full of war and struggle. It was much more about the characters and humanity than the science, and while at the time I wasn’t sure how I felt about it (as some of the characters aren’t fleshed out to the degree I would have liked), in retrospect it was a very solid effort. Conversely, Sun of Suns was something of a disappointment, with a main character I just didn’t like that much, and a cardboard supporting cast–the gruff but steadfast commander, the conniving villains, etc.–that led me to predicting much of the book’s outcome. I dislike when I can predict things. It’s a waste of the time I’m investing in the author’s work.
Anne Ursu is known to many members of the blogosphere as Batgirl, diehard Minnesota Twins fan and creator of Lego re-enactments of games. Her style and creativity appealed to me as a fan before I knew her real name, and when I discovered that she had actually written a number of books, I rushed out to get them. In fact, I have two sitting in my bedroom right now waiting to be read. 🙂 Although it’s definitely not adult fiction–directed more towards young teens–it was quite enjoyable, and her humor and wit sparkle throughout this romp through the Underworld. I’m looking forward to reading the sequel (The Siren Song).
Non-fiction
Prozac Nation — Elizabeth Wurtzel
The only nonfiction book on the list. I read others, but they were for education rather than entertainment. Almost all of them were books on health and fitness, which involved more photocopying than I care to admit to. Indeed, I can’t think of any other nonfiction I truly read, except for Action Philosophers! which was semi-nonfiction, semi-fiction, as it was a graphic novel delineating various schools of thought. Quite brilliant, really, and very funny. I highly
recommend it.
Prozac Nation was very moving. As a fellow sufferer, I found Wurtzel’s depiction of the illness quite accurate. It’s not merely well written, but authentic, from the descriptions of bleakness to the self-absorption that accompanies this very disabling disease. In some ways, depression is akin to autism, a demanding and insistent preoccupation with your own intellect. It’s no surprise, considering the entry on obsession I wrote previously, that I am intimately familiar with the cyclical thoughts, the spirals of despair, the endless repetition of past mistakes.
I know the concept of me being repetitive shocks you. Ridiculous.
Still, if you want to understand depression, read this book, whether you suffer and want some sort of acknowledgment or satisfaction, or if you’re just trying to get inside the head of someone you know and care about.
The last two years have really revitalized my reading, and exposed me to many authors I’d never heard of. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have read half of these books if not for my job. Carrying books out to the shelves each day gives me plenty of opportunity to read the books that don’t get much press, the reviews that are in Side_Panel_03, the ones that don’t grab the eye because they aren’t prominently displayed in every book store and grocer for miles around. I hope that you give some of them a chance.