The holiday tradition continues – you know, the one where I bombard you with all the books you should read next year.

Shocker: I did not do a reading challenge this year. But, I joined a book club! So in that way I read a few books that I otherwise wouldn’t have. I had always been reluctant to join one, because I didn’t want to be stuck reading something I wasn’t interested in, and I worried about having to read a book on schedule. But it has worked out so well! I adore our group of ladies. (And only once did I have to take the morning off work to cram in finishing a book in the nick of time for the meeting.)

I hope you’ve got some time on your hands – the list is burgeoning. 151 books consumed, here are the 5-star ones… 

Hag-Seed, by Margaret Atwood
(320 pages, first published 2016)

Every time I read Canada’s First Lady of Letters I marvel at how she put sentences together so damn well. In this retelling of Shakespeare’s The Tempest, some of those sentences even take the form of a rap. Which I heard her read aloud at an author event, and yes, it was as awesome as you’re imagining.

By Chance Alone: A Remarkable True Story of Courage and Survival at Auschwitz, by Max Eisen
(304 pages, first published 2016)

You’d think by now that there’d be nothing new to glean from Holocaust books, that I’d be a little numb to them. But no. This close-up view of Auchwitz through the eyes of a teenager stings, and my brain STILL has a hard time reconciling that human beings did this to one another.

Dreams from My Father, by Barack Obama
(453 pages, first published 1995)

Perhaps this isn’t really 5 stars on its merits, maybe it’s just my frame of mind today, January 20 – but I don’t care, I loved it. I decided I would rather be reading the words of the outgoing POTUS than watching the new one inaugurate the end of the world as we know it. I usually take politicians’ memoirs with a grain of salt, but this was written 10 years before Obama imagined running for office – so it’s not just a vehicle to advance his political career. It’s a lovely tribute to his family, and a fascinating life story. (And giggle-inducing the many times his friends and relatives call him “Barry”!)

Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, by Yuval Noah Harari
(498 pages, first published 2011))

Homo sapiens are nasty beings. (See: The Holocaust, above. See also: The news.) But long before all that, we probably killed off all the other hominids – so it’s just us left of the genus Homo – and some pretty cool megafauna, too. Oh, and the First Agricultural Revolution that started roughly 12,000 years ago might have a major downside. Thanks, 600^th-great-grammy and -gramps. This bit of anthropology for lay people provides a little new perspective on the world you think you know.

The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry, by Gabrielle Zevin
(260 pages, first published 2014)

If all I tell you is that A.J. Fikry owns a bookstore on a charming island and is surrounded by quirky characters, you’ll know this book had me spinning cartwheels, right? (In my brain, that is. I am too unathletic to have ever cartwheeled in my life.)

LaRose, by Louise Erdrich
(372 pages, first published 2016)

The opening sequences of this book bring about a dawning realization of what is happening, and you will hope what you think is about to happen does not happen, but it does. The writing in this story of tragedy and justice in a Native American community is pitch-perfect.

Born a Crime, by Trevor Noah
(304 pages, first published 2016)

Well I’m not in the mood for anything too heavy right now… hey Trevor Noah’s life story sounds interesting… oh cool it’s not your typical vapid celebrity memoir it’s actually a poignant take on apartheid and its lingering effects on South African society… AND it’s funny at the same time, seriously I’m laughing out loud… now Trevor Noah is singing in Xhosa I’m so glad I’m listening to the audiobook… oh hang on this is NOT FUNNY AT ALL wow did this take a turn…  omg, I am relieved and exhausted and so in admiration of Trevor Noah and his mom.

Lincoln in the Bardo, by George Saunders
(343 pages, first published 2017)

This is unique – no exaggeration, I have never read a novel structured like this. (Nor one where a character spends the entirety of it disrobed, sporting a huge erection.) The novel tells the story of Abraham Lincoln burying his young son, from many perspectives, mostly ghostly ones. I made it sound weird, but it’s outstanding, and well deserving of the 2017 Man Booker Prize.

Amsterdam, by Ian McEwan
(199 pages, first published 1998)

You really can’t go wrong reading McEwan. Amsterdam manages to be laugh-out-loud funny and completely dark at the same time. It’s a little novel with a big ending.

Red Notice: A True Story of High Finance, Murder, and One Man’s Fight for Justice, by Bill Browder
(380 pages, first published 2014)

I cannot possibly give you a better description of this book than that subtitle. If you think you don’t give two f*cks about finance, or Russia, or the Magnitsky Act that you’ve been hearing about in the news, well… this book is so engrossing it will make you give those f*cks. And it’s understandable even to financial dummies like me!

The End of Night: Searching for Natural Darkness in an Age of Artificial Light, by Paul Bogard
(362 pages, first published 2013)

This is one of those that prompts the question “You read a book about what?” The End of Night is part travelogue, part pop-science/anthropology/history, entirely interesting. We have been evolving for hundreds of thousands of years, but artificially lit nights are a recent innovation in the scheme of things, and boy oh boy, are they messing with us. Bogard treks from the most-lit places on Earth to the least, and what he describes is often stunning. The book left me so sad that I will never see true darkness.

Solitude: In Pursuit of a Singular Life in a Crowded World, by Michael Harris
(288 pages, first published 2017)

Two years ago I loved Harris’s The End of Absence. He returns to similar themes here, exploring the downsides of our being increasingly connected – including the paradox of feeling isolated. Most of us hardly (if ever!) experience true solitude any more, but it can be a salve for our digitally gorged psyches.

Gently to Nagasaki, by Joy Kogawa
(288 pages, first published 2016)

Joy Kogawa said this memoir is about Hell. She said this to a packed basement auditorium I was lucky enough to be sitting in (because of course when you see a Canadian literary icon is coming to a local library you ditch your weekly mah jongg game to go hear her speak). And it is indeed about hells – global and personal. It’s about atomic bombings, pedophilia, internment camps, wartime atrocities, and the shame, loss and horror wrought of those. But Kogawa’s writing is stunning as she seeks – and finds some – truth, reconciliation, love and mercy.

American War, by Omar El Akkad
(352 pages, first published 2017)

Speculative fiction… about a second American Civil War… set in the future with historical artifacts… AND there’s a virus?! You simply do not get any further into my wheelhouse than this.

At the Broken Places: A Mother and Trans Son Pick up the Pieces, by Mary Collins and Donald Collins
(192 pages, first published 2017)

This one is heartbreaking and eye opening – the stories of both mother and son before, during and after his transition. I was hurting for both, who love each other so much, but who need opposite things from each other to be their whole selves, and how do you reconcile those?

I, Who Did Not Die, by Zahed Haftlang and Najah Aboud
(288 pages, first published 2017)

I don’t know much about the Iran-Iraq war, but I do know an extraordinary war story when I read one. These two parallel stories of one Iraqi and one Iranian soldier – and where they end up in the world – would be beyond imagining if they weren’t true.

Alex’s Wake: A Voyage of Betrayal and a Journey of Remembrance, by Martin Goldsmith
(352 pages, first published 2014)

More Holocaust reading. Oy. I discovered this one indirectly thanks to book group. One of our discussions was about the novel The German Girl by Armando Lucas Correa, set on the MS St. Louis and in Cuba. I have always been drawn to the story of the St. Louis, so I wanted to do some companion non-fiction reading. The fiction paled in comparison to Goldsmith’s story of his grandfather and uncle, their journey on the ill-fated ship and upon returning to Europe, and his current-day exploration of their route.

Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body, by Roxane Gay
(306 pages, first published 2017)

Roxane Gay must not sleep, because at every minute she seems to be either writing, teaching, mentoring, reading, touring, blogging or tweeting. She published two books in 2017, which meant two book tours – maybe she sleeps on the planes she is on practically every day. I really liked Difficult Women, a collection of short stories, and I loved loved loved Hunger, a memoir of food, weight and self-image.

The Seven Good Years: A Memoir, by Etgar Keret
(173 pages, first published 2013)

If it wasn’t for book group I wouldn’t have met Marlene, and if it wasn’t for Marlene I wouldn’t have come across this book, a hilarious and powerful memoir-in-vignettes by an Israeli writer.

Inferior: How Science Got Women Wrong—and the New Research That’s Rewriting the Story, by Angela Saini
(200 pages, first published 2017)

What does science tell us about women? Traditionally, it has told us that we suck. But modern science will set the record straight! Maybe it will also one day tell us why men are misogynist pricks. (Or rather, as the news indicates these days, why they seem so intent on always taking them out of their pants.)

Consolation, by Michael Redhill
(480 pages, first published 2006)

If you’ve already heard my Michael Redhill story, skip ahead. On October 2, I was lucky to be part of a walking tour in downtown Toronto led by Michael, based on Consolation. There were 20 of us – including Michael’s lovely mom, Linda – all thanks to my friend and organizer extraordinaire, Marilyn. But October 2 wasn’t just any day, it was the morning of the Scotiabank Giller Prize shortlist announcement. And, Michael had been longlisted a few weeks earlier for his new book Bellevue Square (another tour on another day!). I can only imagine how massively nerve-wracking and distracting waiting for that announcement must have been. But he was a trooper, and carried on with the tour for this beautiful book, which is set downtown and intertwines a contemporary storyline with one from the 1850s. We stood at the corner of York and King streets, viewing the Toronto Panorama of 1856 from the spot it was taken. We wandered downtown streets where scenes took place, and listened to Michael read excerpts. Somewhere between Osgoode Hall and City Hall the shortlist announcement finally started happening after much preamble (and then they were tweeting the names out slowly one by one for god’s sake!). We stopped in Nathan Phillips Square, and Michael and a few of us were checking our phones. Took a couple minutes, but then it popped up on my phone a split second before anyone else’s – Michael made the short list!! So I shouted “You got it!” and I don’t think he fully believed me but by then it was on is phone too and we all clapped and cheered and he was overjoyed. He hugged his mom and asked her, “What are you doing on November 20?” (the date of the Giller gala) and I just about melted from the sweetness of that. But that’s not even the best part!! If you were paying attention, you know Michael won the Giller. I couldn’t be more thrilled for him and for Linda, and happy to recommend Consolation to you (and the brain-twisting Bellevue Square, too).

The Heart’s Invisible Furies, by John Boyne
(582 pages, first published 2017)

As I read the first part of this book, the subconscious non-stop track in my mind kept saying, “Ah, there’s the John Boyne that I love.” Then, as I got further into the book, the subconscious non-stop track in my brain kept saying, “Ah, there’s the John Irving that I love.” So then yet another track (because don’t forget I’m still using a track for actual reading all this time) kept popping up and saying, “You’re not reading John Irving, you’re reading John Boyne, you idiot.” So I felt kinda bad about that, but rationalized it by the fact that they are admirers of each other and two of my favourite living male writers. (I say “living” because no one tops Dickens. A statement the Johns would agree with!!) My subconscious brain ramblings were vindicated though when I attended an interview of John B. by John I., who raved about the book and called it John B.’s most “Irvingesque.” To sum up: If you like John Boyne, read this book. If you like John Irving, read this book. If you have never read either, start anywhere in their oeuvres.

A Fine Balance, by Rohinton Mistry
(603 pages, first published 1995)

This was a book group pick, and 15 years after my first reading of this, it’s still amazing. I maybe wasn’t as shocked the second time, knowing what was coming, and also having read many excellent books about India in the interim. But it still packs a punch to the heart the second time around.

Our Souls at Night, by Kent Haruf
(192 pages, first published 2015)

This slim volume contains so much tenderness, it practically oozes from the paper. Read the book first because it’s better than the movie, but then watch the movie because Jane Fonda and Robert Redford star in it.

Stories I Only Tell My Friends: An Autobiography, by Rob Lowe
(308 pages, first published 2011)

Hmmm, I guess I must like celebrity memoirs more than I thought, seeing as how there are two of them on my list. I was utterly charmed by Lowe’s lifetime of wonderful stories – some of which he came to by hard work and some by serendipity. He describes living in Malibu before it was desirable, honing his craft before being an actor was cool, hanging out with youngsters named Penn, Sheen, Esteves, and Cruise, and of course, behind the scenes of The West Wing. Listen to the audiobook and you will be rewarded by Lowe’s voice in your ears for nine hours.

Minds of Winter, by Ed O’Loughlin
(496 pages, first published 2017)

I was scared to read this 2017 Giller finalist, as I abhor winter and the book is set almost entirely in the Arctic and Antarctica. But O’Loughlin writes this saga spanning so much snow and ice and a couple of centuries so beautifully, I loved it.

I Am a Truck, by Michelle Winters
(176 pages, first published 2016)

I was hard pressed to pick my favourite of the Giller finalists this year, as they were all first-rate. But I think I’ll give that distinction to this one. Agathe, Rejean, their Chevy salesman and the Acadian landscape are all endearing.

Sweetness in the Belly, by Camilla Gibb
(415 pages, first published 2005)

Yeah, I know, I was slow to this one. Only been on my radar since it came out in 2005. See, I get to them… eventually! Like much of the best literary fiction, it jumps back and forth from 1970s Ethiopia to 1980s England, and strikingly describes both settings. (Thanks Joanne for the nudge!)

Clemente: The Passion and Grace of Baseball’s Last Hero, by David Maraniss
(416 pages, first published 2006)

It’s November, and I’m already missing baseball… time for my fix. There’s plenty of baseball here, from Clemente’s early years, coming up in the majors, through two exciting World Series (where he hit in all 14 games) and right through his 3,000^th hit in his last-ever at-bat. But there was also so much more to unpack in this book: Jim Crow, the breaking of barriers in MLB, and Clemente’s complex personality. (Then there was the cruel irony of reading about Peurto Ricans generously working to help the citizens of Nicauragua after an earthquake right as Peurto Rico is in its 10^th week of no power and not enough help coming from anyone after Hurricane Maria.) The ending was just as devastating as expected.

The Disappeared, by Kim Echlin
(264 pages, first published 2009)

This lyrical love story flits between Montreal and Cambodia. There are some unforgettable scenes and the prose is gorgeous.

Three Day Road, by Joseph Boyden
(416 pages, first published 2005)

Third year in a row the fine Mr. Boyden has made my best-of-the-year list! Well, unless he comes out with a new book in 2018, you will get a break from my gushing about him after this. I know, I know, he found himself embroiled in a couple of controversies this year, but I can’t help it, I adore him still. This Giller-winning novel tells the tale of two Cree snipers in WWI, and of friendship in those murky and fetid trenches.

Endurance: A Year in Space, a Lifetime of Discovery, by Scott Kelly
(400 pages, first published 2017)

Wanna be an astronaut? Well I hope you’re a good pilot, researcher, astrophysicist, handy man, mechanic, plumber, geologist, phlebotomist, botanist, dentist, cleaner and photographer, cuz you’ll need all those skills if you’re planning on spending time on the International Space Station. Oh, you’d also better be a polyglot – the only way to get there these days is to hitch a ride with your cosmonaut friends on a Russian Soyuz. I’m usually enthralled by astronaut memoirs and this one was no exception. Kelly’s recounting of his YEAR (!!) on the ISS mixed with his previous space travels and his road to NASA had me laughing and crying out loud.

Pachinko, by Min Jin Lee
(512 pages, first published 2017)

A vast and magnificent saga of Korea and Japan, introducing you to some history you didn’t know. This family sweeps you into their midst, and the four generations are perfectly paced. There’s some Shakespearean-level tragedy here, so it almost hurts to turn the pages at times. When I saw that this was Roxane Gay’s and John Boyne’s favourite book of the year, I moved it up the TBR list, stat. (Before that, Marlene had brought it to my attention. She strikes again… maybe she should have a blog!)

The Left Us Everything: A Memoir, by Plum Johnson
(288 pages, first published 2014)

One of the best things about yoga class is all the book talk, amirite? Wait, your yoga class is not also a one-on-one personalized book club (and therapy session)? Pity. This was my holiday gift from instructor Anna. Somehow, Johnson makes elder care, cancer, mortality, aging, and mourning rituals funny. Quite a feat, no wonder it won the 2015 RBC Taylor Prize.

*******

Here’s where I usually distill down to the best of the best, my favourites of my favourites. I usually give you one or two, but so many are outstanding I don’t even have a hope of narrowing down that far. Try Pachinko, The Heart’s Invisible Furies, Lincoln in the Bardo and, if you’re even remotely interested in speculative fiction, American War. For you non-fiction fans I’d say Gently to Nagasaki, Alex’s Wake, I, Who Did Not Die, and, if you’re willing to try something a little different, The End of Night.

If the above list is still not long enough to feed your bibliomania, honourable mentions go to:

• Nine Folds Make a Paper Swan, by Ruth Gilligan
• Goodbye, Vitamin, by Rachel Khong
• My Lovely Wife in the Psych Ward, by Mark Lukach
• Second Person Singular, by Sayed Kashua
• So Much Love, by Rebecca Rosenblum
• Little Sister, by Barbara Gowdy
• Life on the Ground Floor, by James Maskalyk
• Lucky Boy, by Shanthi Sekaran
• A Disappearance in Damascus: A Story of Friendship and Survival in the Shadow of War, by Deborah Campbell
• The Girl with Seven Names: A North Korean Defector’s Story, by Hyeonseo Lee
• Word by Word: The Secret Life of Dictionaries, by Kory Stamper
• Less, by Andrew Sean Greer
• Call Me by Your Name, André Aciman

May your 2018 be filled with good books! And other stuff you like, too, but mostly books.