5 Books I Read Last Year To Get You Through This year
Some quality literature to keep you company during an undoubtedly interesting year.
Welp, it’s 2024. For us Americans that means another tumultuous election cycle, which I’m sure will be conducted with unprecedented levels of grace by all concerned parties. However, on the off chance this year turns into a wretched maelstrom of outrage and buffoonery, I thought I might offer up a few books to keep you sane (or at least ease you more gently into psychosis).
These five selections were my favorite reads of 2023, and will offer some perspective on subjects we’re likely to encounter in 2024. I hope you’ll add some of them to your list.
1. Time’s Arrow, by Martin Amis
The literary world lost Sir Martin Amis in May of last year, and time’s been steadily marching away from his resting place in our memories ever since. All we can do now is look back on his work across the growing distance, and soon only his greatest literary achievements will remain in view over our shoulders. Time’s Arrow will be among them.
The novel centers on a man named Tod T. Friendly, but it’s told from the viewpoint of a narrator who’s stuck inside of Tod’s head. If that wasn’t strange enough, this narrator also experiences Tod’s life in reverse. The story begins in the black nothingness of Tod’s death, only for him to suddenly spring back to life on the operating table as a decrepit old man. His life continues backwards from there.
The narrator discovers Tod is a doctor whose job is to make people sick. Patients come to his office healthy and he sends them away suffering from all kinds of maladies. Then, when morning rolls around, he returns home, applies stubble to his face with a razor, and goes to sleep for the night. As Tod grows younger, he moves closer to a dark secret in his past he’s been trying to hide from. The narrator doesn’t know what the secret is but can see its reverberations in Tod’s actions, dispositions, and relationships.
It's an enthralling read, even if you spoil the dark secret by reading the book jacket. The time reversal mechanic provides a fascinating new perspective on the procession of life and how the consequences of our actions haunt us through time, no matter which direction we travel.
Something to think about in this consequential year.
2. Homage to Catalonia, by George Orwell
Mention Orwell these days, and literary snobs will roll their eyes and assume you’ve only read 1984 — maybe Animal Farm — and only because your high school English teacher made you. Setting aside that those are both very important (and perennially relevant) works, this is your chance to prove the smug literati wrong.
Homage to Catalonia is Orwell’s report of what he did and saw while volunteering in the Spanish Civil War, an incredibly confusing conflict fought over everything from political differences to economic division to religious sectarianism. Sound familiar?
In 1936, at the outbreak of the war, Orwell and his wife, Eileen, went to Spain to assist POUM, one of the many socialist militias fighting against a coalition of right-leaning factions trying to overthrow the Spanish government. Orwell writes of his time at the front with this plucky but ill-prepared militia, which ends abruptly when he’s shot in the throat. He then details his convalescence in sleepy Barcelona, where the war seems a distant affair until the various socialist, communist, and anarchist factions turn on each other. The Orwells are forced to flee back to England to avoid being imprisoned — or worse. It’s a story full of intrigue, political infighting, and a cast of characters so flamboyantly interesting, you’d think they were made up (Georges Kopp comes to mind).
Homage to Catalonia is often cited by war correspondents as the inspiration for their chosen profession. It’s written in Orwell’s trademark prose: engaging yet matter-of-fact, straight to the point without any flowery language or sensationalism, and boldly honest even towards his supposed comrades. It sheds some light on a moment of history often left dark in the American curriculum, and mirrors many of the same political problems we’re faced with today (albeit, with much less violence). Additionally, it also introduces casual Orwell readers to his first wife, Eileen, a pivotal figure in his life and an inspirational figure in her own right.
Make sure you get one of the later editions. Orwell edited the order of some of the chapters in later years, after getting a more distanced and holistic perspective on what he had experienced close up.
3 & 4. The Hobbit & The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien
Okay, this is a huge cheat because it’s technically four books in total. However, I think it’s best to treat The Lord of the Rings as one long book rather than a trilogy, if for no other reason than that it makes lists like these more convenient.
Chances are, you read The Hobbit at some point during your schooling, and thus might feel the series as a whole is meant only for kids and nerds. This is not the case. Although The Hobbit does read at a quicker and more action-filled pace than The Lord of the Rings, the whole series is choc-full of life lessons and epic feats of noble bravery.
So many stories written today (including many of mine) are full of ambiguous characters whose motivations are suspect and who spend just as much time flirting with the devil on their left shoulder as the angel on their right. Nihilism abounds as such characters question our notions and sacred beliefs: religion, the American Dream, Good vs. Evil, etc. That’s all well-and-good but it’s also refreshing every now and then to read a tale about a group of friends who love and respect not only each other but the world they inhabit, and who will struggle and sacrifice for the good of that world.
Wouldn’t it be nice to have some of those people around right now?
One of the greatest treats of this read is Tolkien’s prose. He writes in a lofty, archaic style similar to mythical epics or Biblical tales, which is a welcome diversion from the casual and ironic internet speak we’re used to these days. I certainly picked up a few new entries to my vocabulary along the way, and so will you, ere you finish the series and descry your next literary undertaking.
You’ll want to make good use of the map at the beginning of each book to keep track of the Fellowship’s journey. Tolkien spends a great deal of time describing Middle Earth, which can get confusing or boring if you’re disoriented. I’d also recommend watching Peter Jackson’s film trilogy first (extended version, of course) if you’re a newbie to help acquaint yourself with the characters, locations, and in-world mythologies. I found it easier to identify these elements when I could reference their analogues in the films, which are impressively accurate to the source material but different enough that you’ll still encounter many pleasant surprises.
This is one of the greatest works of literature of the modern era, and anyone who says otherwise is fooling themselves. The entire fantasy genre owes itself to Tolkien. You should read it at least once in your life.
5. The Prumont Method, by Trevor J. Houser
Trevor Houser has a knack for interesting premises and his prose reads a bit like Wes Anderson on paper with glib, quippy dialogue and scenery that appeals to a stylized, vintage aesthetic. He makes great use of brevity, while efficiently retaining all the relevant details and action, so his stories are easy to devour.
And he certainly doesn’t shy away from darkness. The Prumont Method is about an amateur mathematician named Roger Prumont who discovers a way to predict when and where mass shootings will occur. We’re dropped into the narrative as Roger is on his way to the site of the next American tragedy, where his theory will be put to its hardest test yet.
However, the novel isn’t some tedious polemic on gun control or the Second Amendment or anything like that. It’s an examination of the humanity that surrounds these now commonplace occurrences. What draws us to these events? What role do we play in their existence? What is our responsibility to our fellow humans — family, friends, strangers? Roger Prumont spends much of the novel contemplating such things, as well as the failures of his 50-odd-year life, his relationship with his daughter, and his motivations for pursuing this grizzly endeavor. The self-reflection is easily relatable to anyone who’s spent any time in front of the existential mirror.
We don’t need a math whizz to predict that a mass shooting will happen this year — it would be a statistical anomaly if one didn’t occur — but for most of us, the carnage will be something we experience via our screens for a few short moments. Then we’ll be onto the next entry in the endless scroll of outrage. Perhaps we, like Roger Prumont, can use those brief moments to reflect on where our lives intersect with the terror and muse on our next inevitable collision with it.
That’s all for now. Happy New Year! I hope you make the best of 2024 and read some good literature along the way. Speaking of which, next week, I’ll be back with a new short story, so stay tuned for that.