Last year I managed to keep my books of the year to a mere twenty and felt very pleased with myself. This year, much to my surprise, I’ve done the same. 
Perhaps I’ve finally learnt some self-restraint. As with previous years, I have four posts planned, each roughly equivalent to a calendar quarter.
Set in early 2020, Sigrid Nunez’s witty, erudite, wonderfully discursive The Vulnerables brightened up the start of what proved to be a long wet winter. It follows an unnamed writer as she takes up residence in a palatial apartment to care for a parrot whose owner has been stranded during lockdown. Entertained by this gorgeous playful creature, our narrator is resentful when the bird’s original carertaker turns up, chucked out by his parents. They form an uneasy alliance eventually deepening into a friendship. Nunez’s book maybe a pandemic novel but don’t let that put you off: it’s an absolute joy.
Even duller and wetter than January, at least in my memory, February saw two very different favourites. Set over a single day in
1982, Laird Hunt’s Float Up, Sing Down tells the stories of fourteen inhabitants of the Indiana town where the eponymous star of his brilliant last novel, Zorrie, finally settled. It’s the day of the monthly Bright Creek Girls Gaming Club, always an enjoyable event particularly when Candy’s famous devilled eggs are on the table. Meanwhile fifteen-year-old Della and Sugar have been caught kissing, earning the attention of Della’s grandfather. As the day draws to a close, his daughter tries to escape a baroque dream, unaware of the news that awaits her. I’m sceptical of comparisons made with bestselling authors but in this case the blurb’s Elizabeth Strout reference is spot on.
Helen Oyeyemi’s inventive, playful Parasol Against the Axe follows a hen party which has 
descended on Prague, Oyeyemi’s beloved adopted home and the narrator of the novel. One of the group has taken a copy of Paradoxical Undressing, a most unusual book about the city. Prague guides us through her own streets, telling the stories of the novel’s principal players leaving a multitude of loose ends untied. Oyeyemi slips in episodes from city’s history via the endlessly morphing Paradoxical Undressing, from sixteenth-century nobility to Second World War taxi dancers to the Communist ‘60s although not in that order. Every reader, it seems, has a very different experience of the book, rather like readers will with Oyeyemi’s, I suspect. I wasn’t at all sure at the beginning of her novel but ended up loving it. Best be prepared for some mystification if you decide to give it a try.
Much more straightforward, the first of March’s two favourites was Roxana Robinson’s Leaving, a quiet, thoughtful and unflashy novel about two sixty-year-olds who meet by chance decades after Sarah’s caution resulted in her breaking off a relationship both she and Warren had thought might end in marriage. She’s long divorced while his marriage is held together by his love for his daughter. They fall deeply in love again the consequences of which will be far reaching. Leaving is an intensely emotionally intelligent novel, rich in cultural allusions. By the end I’d come to care deeply for both Sarah and Warren whose relationship is sensitively and empathetically portrayed.
Winter’s last favourite was Carys Davies’ Clear, a brief novella set in 1843. Having impoverished himself and his wife, Mary, by resigning his living to become a minister in the newly formed Free Church of Scotland, John Ferguson reluctantly accepts a lucrative offer preparing the clearance of the last man from an island whose owner wishes to populate with sheep. The day after John lands, Ivar finds him naked and unconscious. As Ivar nurses John back to health, he begins to realise how lonely he’s been, transferring the affections for the picture of Mary he’s found in John’s belongings as they learn each other’s language. Gorgeous images sing out from elegantly spare prose together with the occasional flash of humour. I had hoped to see this one on the Women’s Prize or Booker longlists at least.
Spring’s favourites shortly which include a book by a writer who featured on my 2023 books of the year list plus a debut from yet another impressive Irish woman writer.
I agree that the Nunez and the Davies are contenders for anybody’s books of the year. Stupidly, I got the Hunt from the library, then had to take it back before I’d got round to it, because it had been reserved by someone. I remember reading your review of Parasol against the Axe and feeling unsure about it. But if it’s become one of your Books of the Year, despite your reading it so – relatively – long ago, it must have something going for it!
I hope you can get your hands on the Hunt again. Perhaps the library has Zorrie? Much as I loved it, I’m cautious about recommending the Oyeyemi. I think some readers might feel like hurling it across the room!
Oh, I’ve read – and enjoyed – Zorrie. I need to re-order this one. Interesting about the Oyeyemi. Only one way to find out …
Good luck!
The only one I own, but haven’t yet read is the Nunez. But I’d read the other three too.
The Nunez is such a treat. Maybe a Christmas read?
I haven’t read any but Nunez and Davies are firmly on my list!
Both recommended unreservedly!
thank you
I’ve only read the Nunez, but (unusually) the Oyeyemi does appeal despite my usually low tolerance for mystification. The Vulnerables was a lovely book to get through January with, totally agreed there. For some reason it’s rather faded from memory, so not a Book of the Year for me, but I would happily reread it.
That parrot has stayed with me. I was asked to write a short piece on the Oyeyemi which is why I persevered then came to love it but I think it needs to come with a warning!
You know I’m keen to read Clear, but I like the sound of Leaving also.
Leaving is one of those novels that seem to slip under the radar which is a shame. I hope you get to it, Cathy.
Clear will make my favourites list this year – what a wonderful book.
I’ll give the Oyeyemi a try on your recommendation – I’ve had mixed experiences with her stories but the Prague setting is enough to convince me.
The writing in Clear is gorgeous, isn’t it. It took me a while to love the Oyeyemi – I think some readers might curse me for recomending it!
I am interested in reading Leaving and Clear in particular. Sidetracked at moment by Miranda July’s All Fours. It’s a rollercoaster of a story. Midway through it and I don’t know where the story is going. She has a great imagination.
Leaving seems to be one of those quiet books that gets overlooked. I hope you enjoy it, and Clear is wonderful. I’ve been in two minds about reading the July but you’d obviously recommend it.
Haven’t read any of them but the Oyeyemi appeals – a bit of mystification can be fun sometimes!
I’m amazed at the number of people on here who’ve picked that one out. I hope you won’t all be cursing me if you do read it!
All sound good to me. I think there might be a memorable parrot in an older Pat Barker novel too.
Fingers crossed Clear appears on the Walter Scott Prize longlist.
I love seeing your choices and several books here I’d never heard of. But I own a copy of The Vulnerables and really hope to get to it sooner than later (though there’s a queue it must be said – returning to blogging does nothing for the TBR!). So glad you loved it – I think that bodes well for me. Incidentally, I’m reading Douglas Bruton and just adoring it.
Thank you, Victoria! The Vulnerables would be a great Christmas read. I’m so glad to hear you’re enjoying the Bruton. He has another due out in June.
I just got a copy of Clear, it sounds great, evocative of place and era. Glad to see it made your favourites of the year.
It’s a glorious piece of writing, Claire. I hope you enjoy it.
No doubt Clear will be on my best-of list too. I was slightly disappointed with this one from Nunez but she remains one of my favourite authors; I still have a couple novels from her backlist to read.
This is only the second Nunez I’ve read and I was slightly hesitant as it’s a pandemic novel but it hit the spot for me. Clear was certainly one of 2024’s standouts for me.
I’ve had the Davies sitting unread on my shelves for months. Don’t know why I haven’t got around to it yet because I’ve loved everything else she’s written
I hope you love this one too. Possible Christmas read?
Pingback: Best Books of My 2024 Reading Year – Jan to March – findingtimetowrite