The Right Time to Read: On Multitasking Readers

There’s moments when I long for more time to read, particularly as seasonal errands consume what used to be my leisure time. Because reading requires a certain amount of concentration, it’s difficult to perform alongside another activity.[*] It’s among the reasons why you don’t see many people mulling over books while paying their bills or partaking of novels at parties.[†] After all, attempting to carry on a conversation while reading a crime thriller only guarantees someone’s going to lose the plot.

While reading might not lend itself readily to multitasking, that’s never stopped anyone from trying.[‡]  With varying degrees of success and risk involved, some folks manage to combine reading with seemingly incompatible tasks. For the curious, here are three types of multitasking readers I’ve identified and how sensible or sketchy their choices are:

The Right Time to Read: On Multi-Tasking Readers. Text by Rita E. Gould
Unlike a Secret Reader, this young person doesn’t have another book hidden in her textbook.
  • Secret Readers. Reading at work or during class may be appropriate when required, but secret readers discreetly (they hope) read when their time should be allocated to something else, like listening to lectures or, well, actually working. It’s obvious why people read during lessons. Either they haven’t done the assigned reading and are catching up, or they’re sneaking a book because they’re bored. As I discovered in sixth grade, even reading ahead in your text book doesn’t go over particularly well, regardless of how well you understand the subject matter. And while I haven’t done much extracurricular reading at work, I understand the temptation to do so when stuck in long, irrelevant meetings or when there’s downtime with nothing to do. Many bosses, however, tend to be unsympathetic in such cases. As for readers whose work and school tasks languish whilst turning pages, this constitutes a read-at-your-own-risk scenario.
The Right Time to Read: On Multi-Tasking Readers. Text by Rita E. Gould
I suppose there’s worse ways to stretch both your legs and your mind.
Rhe Right Time to Read: On Multi-Tasking Readers. Text by Rita E. Gould
If you want to read on the road, make sure you’re a passenger.
  • The Driven Reader. Driving tops my list of “Times Not to Read”, whether the individual is steering a tricycle or a truck. Both reading and driving require roughly the same amount of focus, and I don’t think I need to explain the dangers of doing the latter poorly. Yet, I’ve seen people perch books (or their phones)[**] on the wheel whilst driving. Bizarrely, I once witnessed a woman put on her hazard lights, stop her car in the center lane of a busy highway, [††] and review a map with her companion. That she repeated this behavior every few miles…I digress. Friends, please don’t do this. It’s risky reading at its worst.

Did I miss any other great (or horrid) examples of multi-tasking readers? Let me know below!

NOTES:

[*] The primary reasons not to read involve timing (previously engaged in another activity) or the wrong environment (too loud, too dark, etc.)

[†] Some exceptions apply: book readings/signings, book groups, poetry readings, and the like.

[‡] Whether or not the attempt should have been made is entirely different story.
[§] My last gym was very noisy, with multiple televisions tuned to competing news stations. During last year’s election, I wasn’t sure whether the exercise or the news increased my heart rate.

[**] Texting adds writing to reading-while-driving, which increases the danger as far as I’m concerned.

[††] The road in question is the Garden State Parkway. At the time, the speed limit was around 55 mph (roughly 88 kph).

A Reader’s Road Trip to Orchard House

Touring Orchard House, however, was at once familiar and filled with contrasts. Stepping into the parlor felt like walking into the opening pages of Little Women, where the teenaged March girls prepare for a modest Christmas during the Civil War.

houghton_fhm_ms_am_2242_-_louisa_may_alcott
(Photo credit: Unknown. Printed in a collection published privately, 1915. Source: Frederick Hill Meserve’s Historical Portraits [MS Am 2242], Houghton Library, Harvard University, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain in the U.S.)

A recent trip I took to Boston to visit with family and friends included a side trip to nearby Concord, Massachusetts. Concord is a charming rural town known widely for its role in the Revolutionary War.[*] It also possesses the quirky distinction of being the birthplace of the Concord grape. Specifically to my reading interests, though, several famous authors made their homes in Concord, among them Louisa May Alcott. Long before I learned of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, or Nathaniel Hawthorne (all Concord residents), I read Louisa May Alcott’s novel Little Women and loved it. She was one of the first authors whose works I sought out and binge read everything I could then find: the remaining novels about the March women (Little Men and Jo’s Boys), followed by Eight Cousins and its sequel Rose in Bloom. Discovering her connection to Concord guaranteed my visit there.

A Place to (Finally) Call Home

Orchard House wasn’t Alcott’s childhood home—or even the family’s first home in Concord—but it is, as I noted in a different post, the one she employed as the setting for Little Women and the place where she lived the longest. Unlike the genteelly poor Marches, the Alcotts suffered dire poverty. Although many of her father Bronson Alcott’s ideas to reform children’s education are common now, they were revolutionary then and soon left him unemployed, as did favoring his principles and dreams above self-interest. Abigail May Alcott, her mother and an early social worker, managed their household with very little—inspiring  Louisa to become the family breadwinner. The publication of Little Women, the book Louisa wrote reluctantly at her publisher’s suggestion, would achieve this goal.

Orchard House in Concord, MA
Orchard House served as the setting for Little Women but Alcotts only lived here as an adult. (Photograph by Rita E. Gould.)

Touring Orchard House, however, was at once familiar[†] and filled with contrasts. Stepping into the parlor felt like walking into the opening pages of Little Women, where the teenaged March girls prepare for a modest Christmas during the Civil War. Yet Lizzie Alcott (model for Beth March) never lived at Orchard House, and older sister Anna (Meg March) wed soon after the house was purchased; she would not truly reside there until after she became a widow and moved in with her two sons. Louisa’s youngest sister, May (Amy March), however, literally left her mark on Orchard House. May’s parents permitted her to draw directly on the walls of her bedroom and throughout the house.[‡] In Louisa’s room, her writing desk is exactly as described in the novel. Unlike her fictional counterpart, though, she served as a nurse in the Civil War until illness forced her to return home with her health irreparably damaged. Also unlike Jo, she preferred literary spinsterhood to matrimonial dependence.

Social Circles and Movements

Replica of Thoreau's cottage and statue of Thoreau near Walden Pond.
Someone thought Thoreau’s statue at Walden Pond needed a snack and fittingly chose an apple. (Photo by Rita E. Gould.)

In addition to Louisa’s own personal history and writing career, a visit to Orchard House illuminates the interconnected literary and social circle of the Transcendentalists. Emerson was both friend and financial supporter of the family. Thoreau, who tutored the Alcott children during a previous stint in Concord, remained an admired friend who helped Bronson make Orchard House habitable. Hawthorne, neither a Transcendentalist or friendly with the Alcott family (unlike his son, Julian), lived next door at The Wayside, a former Alcott homestead. Of interest, Hawthorne and Abigail May Alcott shared something in common besides real estate: both were descended from different judges who preside over the Salem witch trials.[§] Samuel Sewall, the Alcott ancestor whose portrait is displayed at Orchard House, was the repenting judge whose other mitigating claim to fame was being an early proponent for abolishing slavery, a stance his Alcott descendants shared. Abigail and Bronson, also firm abolitionists, hosted at least one fugitive slave during their time at The Wayside. The Alcotts were deeply involved with the significant social movements of their time, something which the guide was careful to note was part of the value in preserving this home.[**]

Pondering

After leaving Orchard House, I headed to Walden Pond. One could imagine a young Louisa and other students traipsing after Thoreau there, listening as he pointed to the small and often missed marvels of nature. Thinking on that younger Louisa, you could easily argue that Little Women seems to be a happy reimagination of her deeply impoverished youth, with hunger replaced with longing for “nice things” and constant uprooting for permanency. Yet, Alcott’s novel continues to inspire because of its inclusion of an ambitious, unconventional young women and its unpatronizing view of women’s lives. Having caught a glimpse of “the real Jo”, it seems like a fitting legacy.

NOTES:

[*] Minute Man National Park preserves several sites associated with the Battle of Concord.

[†] Orchard House contains around 80% of the Alcott’s original furnishings, undoubtedly aiding the sense of familiarity.

[‡] May left home in 1870 to study art in Paris and embarked on what appeared to be a very successful artistic career cut short by her early death.

[§] Nathaniel Hawthorne likely added the “w” in his surname to distance himself from the association with his infamous ancestor, William Hathorne.

[**] The credit for preserving Orchard House and The Wayside belongs to another woman writer, as it happens. Harriett Lothrop, better known by her pen name Margaret Sidney to fans of The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew, saw the value of saving these old homes. And as it happens, I read her novel, too, as a child.

Social Reading Recs: How Social Media Grew My Reading List

We often talk about what we’re reading but not how we choose what we read. The story behind those to-be read lists, however, deserves its share of spotlight.

This past weekend, I went to the Baltimore Book Festival for the first time. Greeted by unseasonably warm weather, throngs of readers strolled among tents featuring authors talking about their works. I attended lectures on editing bon mots,[*] social justice, monsters in modern horror, and food in science fiction. I bought and discussed books whose titles I just learned that day. Being an avid reader, I loved having the opportunity to delve into new topics and books I didn’t know existed. Perhaps the only book-related topic I didn’t hear mentioned was how we find the books we choose to read when we don’t have a handy festival to suggest interesting titles. We often talk about what we’re reading but not how we choose what we read. The story behind those to-be read lists, however, deserves its share of spotlight.

Social Reading Recs: How Social Media Grew My Reading List
Baltimore Book Festival 2017, as seen from the Ferris wheel. (Photo by R. E. Gould.)

Polling the Readers

I’ll admit that this topic that occurred to me well before I sauntered forth to bake in the Baltimorean sunshine amongst the bookish. Perhaps a week or two earlier, I’d been looking over lists of books I read or intended to read and came to the realization that many recommendations came from Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, WordPress, and even (on occasion) Facebook.[†] Being curious, I conducted a small poll on Twitter to find out whether any other readers saw their reading lists expand courtesy of social media. Slightly over half of my respondents agreed that social media helped grow their reading lists, with contemporary fiction writer and blogger Nastasya Parker observing that these recommendations made her reading “even more rewarding”. Novelist Anne Charnock (Dreams Before the Start of Time) concurred, stating that “Twitter is good for book recommendations—from a bunch of people whose recs are pretty reliable”. The remaining individuals divided into those who felt social media hadn’t increased the length of their reading lists (slightly over 25%) and those who were unsure. Arguably, these results could depend on how those individuals use social media. Not everyone goes to Twitter and asks, “Read a good book lately?” or finds people whose reading habits resonate with their own.

Social Reads

I certainly hadn’t expected better to-be read book lists to be part of the bargain when I’d joined some social media outlets.[‡] However, my first Twitter chat revealed the power of the social reading community. When several like-minded individuals gather to talk about books, there’s a good chance for discovering new titles to read. In this case, the July 2016 #women_writers chat focused on reading women in translation, and, as I noted in a different post, I discovered a gap in my reading. It wasn’t long before several books were proposed to remedy that problem. I could (and did) find articles suggesting books to read for #WITmonth (like this one), but receiving multiple recommendations for certain books or authors from this group really identified worthy titles.[§] And I’ve had similar experiences with Instagram (The Reading Women come to mind) and my Goodread reading groups, to name a few.

Social Reading Recs: How Social Media Grew My Reading List. Text by Rita E. Gould
Social reading isn’t just for libraries.
So, spending more time on social media perversely improved my offline reading. Of course, it’s not the only place to find captivating books to read. There’s reviews (in print and online), best-seller lists, and so forth. There’s even the simple expedient of walking into the local library or bookshop and checking out what’s on display. Social media, however, makes it easier to connect with people who share your reading tastes and make reliable recommendations. Reading tends to be a solitary pursuit, but looking for new books to read needn’t be lonesome.

Has social media improved your reading list? Let me know and share your suggestions for a good read!

NOTES:

[*] The Old Editor Says: Maxims for Writing and Editing by John E. McIntyre.

[†] I also created an imaginary click-bait link: “How Twitter Improved My Reading Life!” (In my head, titles like this seem to read by an old-timey news broadcaster). Naturally, should this article have existed, it would have parodied articles devoted to improving one’s romantic/sex life.

[‡] Except Goodreads. Because that’s rather the whole point, isn’t it?

[§] Two different Goodreads groups recommended works by Han Kang (either The Vegetarian or Human Acts), as did Twitter chats and various Instagram posters. Both books were compelling, challenging reads.

Loneliness and Grief in Yoshimoto’s Kitchen

“I got dressed to begin another day. Over and over, we begin again.”

The heart of the home truly is the kitchen for the young protagonist of Banana Yoshimoto’s debut novel Kitchen (translated by Megan Backus). University student Mikage Sakurai loves kitchens, which become her refuge when the death of her grandmother making her an orphan twice over.[*] Stunned by her utter solitude (“It’s total science fiction. The blackness of the cosmos.”), she only can sleep next to the humming refrigerator. Other obligations also press on her. While her grandmother left her money,[†] she nonetheless must downsize her apartment to stretch her funds. Still grief-stricken, the thought of moving and house hunting paralyzes her. Fortunately, Mikage also inherits her grandmother’s friendship with Yuichi Tanabe. Yuichi, a younger university student, works part-time at the floral shop her grandmother frequented. He and his mother, Eriko, offer a much needed respite by opening their home to Mikage, complete with a beautiful kitchen (“It was a good kitchen. I fell in love with it at first sight”).

Grief, Connection, and Magic

Yoshimoto’s novel (as well as its novella companion “Moonlight Shadow”)[‡] contemplates grief and loneliness with a delicate touch. While these emotions predominate, they are offset by moments of joy and connection. Yoshimoto uses light and dark imagery symbolically to reinforce these feelings: in the novel’s second half, “the telephone was glowing” in Yuichi’s mind whereas Mikage felt the line to Yuichi was submerged in deep, dark water, respectively suggesting his need for her companionship and her recognition of his grief. Part of the novel’s charm in negotiating such difficult topics involves its subtle use of magical realism that confers an almost fairy-tale quality to the story. Yuichi appears at just the right moment to offer Mikage a place to live while she sorts out her affairs. Both young people share a remarkable dream that takes place in the grandmother’s now empty kitchen, in which Yuichi implores Mikage to stay at his family’s apartment. Mikage even intuits which hotel room belongs to Yuichi before scaling the wall to deliver him katsudon. (This latter example also represents a brilliant gender role reversal, as Mikage plays—albeit comically—the traditionally male role of rescuer for a distressed Yuichi.)

Katsudon
You had me at katsudon. (Yōfū Katsudon [Western-style pork cutlet on rice] at Nagaoka, Niigata Prefecture, Japan. Siriusplot at Japanese Wikipedia. CC-BY-SA-3.0-migrated.)

Transformations

However magical her delivery may be, Yoshimoto does not shield her characters from pain. Eriko explains hers (and the novel’s) philosophy to Mikage: we must experience “true despair” to understand joy. Mikage also comes to accept that, even when we are with others, we are always alone. While she despairs that we’re “always defeated”, this knowledge lets her live more fully. Grief, therefore, is transformative in Kitchen. Having discovered a passion for cooking while living with the Tanabes, Mikage leaves university and successfully embarks on a cooking career despite her limited qualifications. Eriko’s own experience of grief literally changes her. Watching his wife slowly succumb to cancer forced Eriko to understand that “the world didn’t exist for [his] benefit”.[§] Becoming aware that he disliked being a man and realizing he would never love again, Eriko transitioned to a woman and opened a gay nightclub,[**] thereby straddling roles of provider and nurturer. Her story essentially serves as a loose guide for Mikage who also bridges these roles: cooking is her profession but it is one that nurtures.

The kitchen, of course, serves as an extended metaphor throughout this novel, representing that which sustains people through terrible loss, both in terms of sustenance (food, nourishment) and refuge. Kitchen creates this space as a haven for healing and connection, perhaps even new beginnings. And it’s this uplifting spirit that makes Kitchen a story that satisfies indeed.

NOTES:

[*] Mikage’s grandparents raised her after her parents died. Her grandfather subsequently died while she was in junior high school. Hence, she’s doubly orphaned by losing two sets of guardians.

[†] Discovering an orphaned character who isn’t destitute is a pleasure.

[‡] “Moonlight Shadow” (also translated by Megan Backus) typically accompanies Kitchen. My focus here is on the larger work.

[§] My pronoun usage mirrors that of the novel, using female for post-transition and male pronouns for pre-transition Eriko (formerly called Yugi).

[**] It’s worth observing that most characters seem to respect Eriko’s gender identity, even though it’s mentioned on occasion that Eriko is “really a man”. Given that Eriko’s fate is common for transgender women, a content warning is appropriate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading Women in Translation for #WITmonth 2017

Supporting Women in Translation month signals that the reading public wants different voices and more choices to read.

Last year (late July 2016), I learned about Women in Translation month when the #women_writers Twitter chat featured Meytal Radzinski, founder of this movement (you can find the chat highlights here). As rave reviews and recommendations for books I hadn’t yet read or even heard about, I became very conscious of having a reading blind spot. I certainly read several translated works over the years, and women writers were among their numbers[*]. Some I’d read as part of my coursework (poet Anna Akhmatova among them), others (classic or more recent) because they were sufficiently famous to warrant attention (Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel translated by Thomas Christensen and Carol Christensen).

But I hadn’t given thought much about how few books are translated into English and, of these books, how few are written by women.[†] This simple observation made me realize how much I was missing, not just in terms of good stories (many works translated are widely respected), but in the experiences reading provides. Reading from diverse sources broadens our horizons, allows us to contemplate viewpoints not our own—preventing us from living in a complacent echo chamber and helping us become more empathetic people. Insight into other lives and other cultures—or just an amazing tale, all are great reasons to read women in translation. Supporting Women in Translation month signals that the reading public wants different voices and more choices to read.

MY WITmonth Experiences Thus Far

For my part, my albeit late participation in Women in Translation month last year involved purchasing a copy of one the most highly discussed books, The Vegetarian by Han Kang (translated by Deborah Smith). Kang’s novel was explosive in its discussion of identity,[‡] insanity, erasure, violence (including both child and domestic abuse), and family. I hadn’t read anything else like it, and the novel has stayed with me. This year, I followed it up with Kang’s novel, Human Acts (also translated by Deborah Smith). Based on the Gwangju Uprising in South Korea during the early 1980s, the government’s violence against its own citizens is both brutal and senseless. And yet, some chose to stand and protest regardless of the risks involved. Kang captured the frightening range of humanity, both noble and monstrous. Afterwards, I found myself wondering about immigrant families I’ve known (not just from South Korea), the reasons that might have motivated them to emigrate, how restrictive immigration policies might abandon families like theirs to terrible fates. The novel, too, reminded me of how some peaceful protestors in my country have been mistreated. Thought provoking, indeed.

Going  Further

While I do recommend you read more women in translation, I am not providing my own list because articles posted on several other websites and blogs already are doing an excellent job of providing these recommendations. These resources appear below. I also suggest typing #WITmonth into the WordPress reader or Twitter feed for more ideas for reading translated works by women writers.

The Women in Translation blog is obviously a fantastic resource for reading women in translation.

Reading Women in Translation #WITMonth by Claire McAlpine appears on her blog Word by Word, which regularly features translated works.

The AnzLitLovers blog by Lisa Hill has multiple reviews of books written by female authors in translation listed in this archive.

Words Without Borders (WWB) online literary magazine offers several features focusing on women writers in translation including 25 Recent Works by Women Writers to Read for #WITmonth by Jessica Chaffee and Where Are the Women in Translation? Here Are 31 to Read Now by Liz Cettina.

English PEN, an organization devoted to literature and human rights, has several articles discussing women in translation (include the PEN Translates awards and grants).  Joanna Walsh’s article, Women in Translation to Read Right Now, provides reading suggestions.

PEN America, the US-based branch of PEN, similarly features articles discussing women in translation , including Susan Bernofsky’s article Read These Women in Translation Now.

BookRiot features 7 August Releases by Women in Translation This #WITMonth by M. Lynx Qualey and 10 Books to Check Out for Women in Translation Month by Teresa Preston

Goodreads also features this fantastic list of over 600 works: Women in Translation

Feel free to share your suggested books or links to reading lists as well!

NOTES:

[*] I suspect, though, male writers would outnumber female writers in translation. So much work to do here.

[†] Meytal Radzinski estimates that only 30% of book translated into English were written by women. Specific details are available here.

[‡] I discuss The Vegetarian in a post on character here.

Reading on the Road

Sometimes, the trips I’ve taken didn’t allow much room for rest and relaxation, let alone reading.

The Bookworm’s Dilemma

Before I pack for a trip, one of the thornier questions I ponder involves books. Long past the days when I’d lug my satchel of books to the backseat of my parents’ car and read until daylight was gone, I need to consider my reading more thoughtfully. When reading in busy settings (like the pool or at airports), I prefer works that forgive a few interruptions. I also need to think about bulk, since my travel accommodations rarely are spacious. By the time I’m ready to zip my bags, the question of what to read often slides into whether I should bring a book along at all. Will I read this book on my trip?

Travel and Reading

Sometimes, the trips I’ve taken didn’t allow much room for rest and relaxation, let alone reading. Sarah Tinsley discusses the need for respite in our daily lives, referring to an anecdote that concludes our reason for taking pricey vacations is to compensate for the stress caused by our overpacked lives. Yet, we may unintentionally bring this frenetic energy with on holidays. Itineraries, cataloguing sights to see, tend to turn into checklists to complete and leave many travelers feeling as unrested as they were when they left. Whether it’s the notion that vacation time is too precious to waste sitting or the fear of missing opportunities, there can be little time to reflect on whether we enjoyed ourselves. For those who like alone time and a good read, this vacation plan isn’t worth writing home about.

Niches of Quiet

For the avid reader who finds reading restorative, the solution isn’t forgoing a dream vacation. When we book travel, we should look for moments to build in some free time, giving ourselves time to relax, reflect and read with abandon. Driving to destinations, poring over maps, and queuing for tickets genuinely require our attention, but we can also devote a few minutes to find niches of quiet. It’s easy enough to read a few pages before bedtime or spend some time with a book while waiting for a coach tour to begin. If you’re a reader, taking the time to read the book you brought will make your getaway even better.

Happy reading, fellow travelers!

The Slipperiness of Resolve: the Mid-Year Reading Resolution Check-In

But why haven’t I finished several books I fully intended to read just yet? Simply put, other books beckoned.

The Slipperiness of Resolve: the Mid-Year Reading Resolution Check-In Text by Rita E. Gould
How do your reading resolutions stack up against your to-read list?
Following weeks of temperatures in the 90s and 80s, January’s cold seems distant as I contemplate the resolutions I made in that darker month. The resolutions in question, of course, are reading ones. With more than half the year gone, I reviewed the list of books I planned to read. Surprisingly, I discovered that I read exactly two books listed, with a third started (Beloved by Toni Morrison). A number I might find disappointing, had I not read (and wrote about) several other books since the list’s genesis.

The Power of Other Books

But why haven’t I finished several books I fully intended to read just yet?[*] Simply put, other books beckoned. I belong to online book groups that discuss a few novels every month. These books tend to inspire blog posts, so I place them a bit higher on my reading queue. I also visit my local library to encourage my child’s burgeoning reading habit.[†] Browsing the shelves allows me to find fascinating books I might not have otherwise encountered (The Strange Library by Haruki Murakami).[‡] There’s also my own evolving reading goals: books I want to read for an upcoming trip, books gifted to me, and other projects that pop up (the #readingwomenmonth, to name one).

Weaker Resolve

In the interest of strict honesty, there are a few books I’ve delayed reading or finishing. Whether the book’s density or subject matter required more attention than I could provide, I returned these to the “to-read” stack. For now. Some books I forgot I wanted to read because I made the list so long ago. Other books I put aside because they didn’t suit my reading environment. When I want to read in a car or at the pool,[§] I like reading something that can be interrupted and readily resumed again. And finally, there’s a few books I wanted to see as a movie first, because I suspect I won’t enjoy the movie quite as much if I read the book beforehand (Sorry, The Life of Pi by Yann Martel).[**]

The Slipperiness of Resolve: the Mid-Year Reading Resolution Check-In
I’d like to read Les Misérables at the shore, but the splashing is too distracting.

Reading On

For all that I haven’t yet read, I’m so close enough to achieving the reading goal I set for myself on Goodreads that I will likely increase it. In the spirit of getting there eventually, I’m updating my list with the hope that I get to my unread books—along with several new additions to my list.[††] Included, too, are books I’ve read. Feel free to check links to books I’ve discussed in other posts. As always, happy reading!

2017 To-Read List

The Good Thief by Hannah Tinti (in progress)

Beloved by Toni Morrison (in progress)

Imagine Me Gone by Adam Haslett (in progress)

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

Human Acts by Han Kang (Translated by Deborah Smith)[‡‡]

Life of Pi by Yann Martel

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

Howard’s End by E. M. Forster

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Bad Feminist by Roxanne Gay

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo

Take Off Your Pants! Outline Your Books for Faster, Better Writing by Libbie Hawker

The Yiddish Policeman’s Union by Michael Chabon

Do Not Say We Have Nothing by Madeleine Thien

2017 Read List[§§]

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

Big Fish by Daniel Wallace

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

All the Living by C. E. Morgan (read about it here and here)

Two Old Women by Velma Wallis

A Cold Day for Murder by Dane Stabenow

The Color Purple by Alice Walker

Swing Time by Zadie Smith

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing by Marie Kondō

The Snow Child by Eowen Ivey

Hidden Figures by Margot Lee Shetterly

Where’d You Go Bernadette by Maria Semple

Ordinary Wolves by Seth Kantner

The Strange Library by Haruki Murakami (Translated by Ted Goossen)

NOTES:

[*] Ignoring the obvious difficulties involved with limited time and the need to sleep, eat, and be present for other people and activities.

[†] As I wrote here, I used to start reading my library books as soon as I sat in the car. It’s thrilling to hear my child turn pages as I drive home.

[‡] Library fines also motivate reading choices, it seems.

[§] Although I enjoyed reading The Awakening by Kate Chopin poolside, it seemed a bit inappropriate. And took longer than reading at home did.

[**] To borrow (misappropriate?) a chapter title from Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland, “Comparisons Are Odious”.

[††] I’ve got to January, right? And there’s always next year’s list!

[‡‡] For #womenintranslation month, which is in August.

[§§] Most books I didn’t include on this list were books I’ve read or re-read for my child, including books I’ve scouted out well in advance of his transitioning into YA books.