2019 in books – *why* do I find it hard to pick favourites?? :D

As we slide into a new decade, it’s time for a look back over 2019 and the books I read – and there really were some crackers in there! But I really struggle to pick favourites, because so many of my reads are outstanding for different reasons. I can’t possibly do a Top Ten, so instead I thought I’d post some thoughts about favourite books, publishers and genres – here goes!

Russians

Inevitably I have read more Russian authors this year, although there was a slight hiatus at one point so that I ended up thinking the blog was suffering from Russian Reading Deficiency! However, a quick dose of the Gogols soon sorted that out! Spring was the season of Dostoevsky’s “The Devils”, in a lovely new edition from Alma Classics, and it was an intense read which absorbed me for some time; it was a bit of a marathon in the end, but worth every minute spent reading it. A really epic book in many ways, full of the humour and drama you’d expect from Dosty – wonderful!

I’ve also been enjoying some more modern works from the wonderful publisher Glagoslav; they’ve put out some excellent titles from countries I haven’t always read from before. A really interesting imprint, and one to watch.

Golden Age Crime

There has been, I’m pleased to say, a lot of Golden Age Crime on the Ramblings this year. It’s a favourite reading genre of mine and much has come from the wonderful British Library Crime Classics imprint. There have been some excellent books released, lots of new authors and some really great anthologies. Plus plenty of Reggie Fortune, which makes me happy! I also revisited the Queen of Crime, who’s always a joy to read; next year, I must spend some time with Lord Peter Wimsey!

Poetry

There has also been much poetry on the Ramblings in 2019, which makes me very happy. I discovered the Morden Tower poets, Basil Bunting, Tom Pickard and the vastly entertaining (and very clever) Brian Bilston. I also went back to Philip Larkin, one of my favourite poets ever. I still don’t read enough of the wonderful verse volumes I have on my shelves so that’s another thing I need to rectify in 2020. Interesting how many of the poets I love are from the cold North (a place I’m often drawn back to) – and published by Bloodaxe Books!

Essays and Non-Fiction

I’m not sure why I’ve been drawn to non-fiction works so much this year, but I seem to have read quite a lot! There are of course all the lovely books put out by Notting Hill Editions, who make an art of issuing fascinating essay collections which are also beautiful to look at. If I can find my Shostakovich, I’ll share a picture of all my NHE books at some point…

Equally, Fitzcarraldo Editions release some really thought-provoking works and I rather crave adjoining book shelves with my Fitzcarraldo and Notting Hills next to each other. The Ian Penman collection was a particular treat this year from Fitzcarraldo; and other publishers have produced equally fascinating books, like the marvellous “Selfies”.  A lot of these books lie outside any strict definition of fiction or non-fiction, and I do find I like that kind of book nowadays.

Translated Literature

Mention of Fitzcarraldo brings me by necessity to Olga Tokarczuk’s “Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead” which definitely *is* one of my books of the year. I was blown away by her “Flights” last year, and this title didn’t disappoint. I read a lot of translated works, and am eternally grateful to translators. NYRB and Pushkin Press have issued numerous wonderful books in translation that I’m so happy to have read, like “Isolde” and “Rock, Paper, Scissors” and “Portraits without Frames”…. I was also so happy to rediscover Mishima and find that I loved his work just as much as ever. Well, I could go on and on, but suffice to say that I am made a happy reader thanks to the efforts of all those fine people who translate books! 😀

John Berger

Berger deserves a special mention; I’ve read a number of his books this year (and there is a review pending of one I finished very recently) and each has been a wonderful, thought-provoking and unique experience. Several have been in beautiful editions from Notting Hill; and he’s proved to be a a very human (and humane) writer with so much to say. I really have no doubt that I’ll continue to read him in 2020.

Reading Clubs

I’ve been very happy to once more co-host two Reading Club weeks during 2019 with Simon from Stuck in a Book. This year, we focused on books from 1965 and 1930, and it was such fun! We plan to continue in 2020, with the 1920 Club happening in April, so do join in – we have the most wonderful discussions and it’s a great way to pick up ideas for books to read!

Documentaries and Interviews!

c. ClearStory/BBC

I took a slight tangent on what is, after all, a book blog in March when Professor Richard Clay’s “How to Go Viral” documentary aired on UK TV. I first became aware of his work back in 2014 via his documentary on French Revolutionary iconoclasm, followed by his fascinating look at the history of graffiti and then his epic series “Utopia”; and so I was delighted when Richard agreed to be interviewed for the blog. I do love a good documentary (and apart from a few notable exceptions, there’s been a bit of a dearth lately). Richard’s ideas are so very interesting, and you can read the interview here and here. He’s been filming a new documentary recently, so that’s something to look forward in 2020! 🙂

The Summer Big Book

The Notebooks

I can’t finish this rather rambly post without mention of a very special reading experience I had in the summer; if I was forced at gunpoint to pick a read of the year, I would probably have to mention Victor Serge’s Notebooks, published by NYRB. I’ve raved about Serge’s writing many times on the Ramblings, and was ridiculously excited about the release of this very chunky collection. At just under 600 pages, it’s no quick read, but a wonderfully rich and rewarding one; it accompanied me on my travels during the summer, giving me a glimpse into Serge’s life and mind, as well as all the notable people and places he encountered. A brilliant and immersive read, and one I won’t forget.

It has been a very difficult time out there in Real Life recently, with a feeling (here, at least) that the world is slipping gradually into being a more harsh and intolerant place; reading and books and ideas have always been my coping mechanism, and will continue to be essential I suspect. Anyway – this post will have to do as a bit of a snapshot of my 2019 reading, although I can’t help feeling I’ve missed too many out. There are *so* many books I’ve read and loved this year that I feel mean not mentioning them; I’ll just suggest you go and read my posts to see what books have meant the most to me! 2019 has been a great reading year, and here’s hoping 2020 is as good!

*****

A lot of people have been doing their “Books of the Decade” this month, and I did consider this for a brief moment. However, the blog’s only been here since 2012, and frankly before that I couldn’t tell you what I was reading!! My end of year posts during the blog’s life would no doubt give you a flavour of how my reading tastes have evolved – and I’m sure they have – so check them out if you wish!

The art of the self-portrait @LesFugitives #sylvieweil

Selfies by Sylvie Weil
Translated by Ros Schwartz

We live in a modern age characterised by fast communications, short attention spans and a huge focus on the self; all of which might seem like new and modern preoccupations. However, I was reminded that there is nothing new under the sun by Prof. Richard Clay’s excellent “How to go Viral” programme back in March; Richard pointed out that memes were really nothing new and that the transfer of signs and symbols in popular culture had a long and varied history. And reading a fascinating new review book which popped through the door recently, I realised that that arch-symbol of modernity, the selfie, really isn’t that modern at all!

The book is called just that – “Selfies” – and is by Sylvie Weil, published by Les Fugitives. Weil is an author not as new to me as I orginally thought; she’s the niece of Simone Weil, the philosopher, whose Virago collection I picked up fairly recently in the Oxfam. Her father was the famous mathematician Andre Weil; and Sylvie herself is a distinguished academic and author, although I get the sense that she’s often overshadowed by the rest of her family. Les Fugitives are a new imprint for me, but their remit is one that appeals very much – to publish contemporary French writing in translation – and so I was very pleased that they decided to send me a review copy of this book, because I might not have stumbled across it otherwise, and it really was excellent.

“Selfies” features a photograph by Vivian Maier on the cover, and a better choice couldn’t have been made; in many ways, that self-effacing photographer is reminiscent of Weil herself, and both are concerned with what the self-portrait can hide or reveal. Weil’s book is structured in thirteen sections of varying lengths; each takes as its starting point a work of art which is a self-portrait of a female artist and Weil uses this to theme her own recollections, which are self-portraits in writing. It’s a really interesting concept, and allows Weil to explore not only her past and life, but the way we view women artists and they way they choose to present themselves to the world.

So, for example, “Self-portrait at the organ” starts with a description on a self-portrait by Sofonisba Angiossola from 1561; Weil then follows this with a nuanced memory of organ lessons as a young girl and her music teacher of a “venerable age”. “Self-portrait as a Chinese mushroom” springs from a painting by Gabriele Munter and explores a toxic friendship. And “Self-portrait with a dog” is one of two pieces using the works of Frida Kahlo as inspiration (and it’s quite heartbreaking, too, in an understated way). This method allows Weil to explore her memories, sometimes in a playful way, but often with a deeper, darker tone; there are some really difficult and moving pieces in the book, and in particular the events relating to Weil’s son are desperately sad.

When Japanese friends told me, before my trip, that I’d see the cherry blossom, I replied politely: “Cherry blossom, how lovely, I’m thrilled.” I had no clue. I didn’t realise that I’d walk for days under a shower of petals, that I’d see pink rivers and at night I’d join long, slow processions, dark rivers mirroring the pale rivers of petals, and that like everyone else I’d hold my camera high above my head to capture and possess a tiny fragment of the stunning, soft, pink mass.

Lighter moments come from chapters like “Self-portrait as an author”, where Weil wryly explores the discomfort experienced by a writer at a bookstore signing, where a much more popular writer is receiving all the attention from the shopping public. And “Self-portrait as a visitor” reveals the different perceptions that we can have of someone and how a friend will never see the same side of that person as a family member will. In fact, Weil’s family is a theme which runs through the book, all the way up to the very clever “Photobomb selfie”, the last piece in the book.

“Selfies” is a short book – 152 pages – but is packed with so much that lingers in the mind, provoking thought long after I’d finished reading it. Weil weaves the threads of her life into her narratives brilliantly, allowing her to cover topics such as anti-Semitism, Palestine, ageism, genetics and psychosis. The format means she always approaches these with a delicate touch and the book is quick to read, though not lightweight; its imagery and stories are powerful and stay with you. The book also had the (perhaps intentional!) effect of making me go and research the women artists I’d not heard of so that I could actually *see* the pictures Weil was describing. The self-portrait is such a part of art history that I’m just surprised I hadn’t made the connection with the modern selfie before!

So “Selfies” turned out to be an original and inventive way to discuss memory, history and perception, as well as how women’s lives are understood. Sylvie Weil has obviously been too long under the shadow of her famous forebears and it’s about time more of her work was available in English. Kudos therefore have to go not only to Weil for writing such a marvellous book, but also to translator Ros Schwartz and Les Fugitives for publishing the book – I can see I’m going to have to watch their catalogue with interest! 😀

(Review copy kindly provided by the publisher, for which many thanks! “Selfies” is published on 25th June.)

March on the Ramblings – upcoming documentary fun plus an @NYRBClassics event!

No – I’m not suggesting for a minute that I want you all turning up at my doorstep with placards demanding something or other; instead, I thought I would just drop a little post in with some bits and bobs about what to expect over the next week or two on the Ramblings.

c. ClearStory/BBC

As you might have noticed, I am sunk in the depths of Dostoevsky’s Devils and absolutely loving it. It *will* take me a little time to read, but to keep you occupied there are a couple of reviews scheduled, which will be followed by some Extra Special Posts. As I’ve hinted, Professor Richard Clay has a new documentary due in the next couple of weeks on the subject of memes, and as well as a review of the programme there will be a couple of other Posts of Interest related to Viral which I hope you’ll enjoy – watch this space… ;D

One of my forthcoming reviews is of a NYRB release Lost Time by Józef Czapski; the publisher is releasing this, his book Inhuman Land and a biography, and to tie in with the launch is holding a special event in London on Friday March 15th. Entitled “Józef Czapski: A Beautiful Human Being”, it will take place at the Ognisko restaurant, and features esteemed translator Antonia Lloyd-Jones and Dr. Stanley Bill of Cambridge University. The evening promises to focus on Czapski’s life and particularly  Inhuman Land (which I’ll be reading and reviewing at a later date) and should be interesting as well as stimulating. Alas, I shall be unable to sneak away from the wilds of East Anglia (which I’m a bit cross about), but if you’re in the Big Smoke the event is reasonably priced and sounds fascinating, so do try to go along if you can! You can find more information about the event here.

Meantime – back to scandalous revelations, punctuated by outbreaks of mass violence! 😀