A little late this year, but since I so enjoyed writing the last one, here is my books of 2020….
January - I began 2020 by attending an alpine skills course at Mt Cook, accompanied in the hut by Laurence Fearnley's Degrees of Seperation. If you read last year’s books blog, you may remember that I am a huge fan of her writing. I was pleased to find that several of the mountain guides in the hut knew of her. Yes, spread the word. Haha. I followed this up with another of hers, Room, which really moved me. Really, she's so good. I finally made the time to finish the audiobook of Night Train to Lisbon, which had initially hooked me with a bit of intrigue and some eloquent philosophising. In the end I found it a little long and slow moving, but really quite lovely and thought provoking. I also finished up Isabelle Allende, In the Midst of Winter, which was similarly mysterious early on. I appreciated the chance to read something from a South American perspective, and realised the value in consuming writing from a diverse range of authors. Having become fascinated with the topic of human sexuality, I scoffed down Jesse Bering's Perv: The Sexual Deviant in All of Us in a couple of days. It was pretty interesting, but he's no Sarah Pascoe. I can't recommend her book Sex, Power, Money enough. In a beautifully cyclical sequence of events, I then found myself listening to Mark Manson's Everything is F*cked while traipsing along ridgelines in the rain, on the very same route I did the January prior, with his last book. I found the first half a little underwhelming, but Part 2 was pretty on point and I enjoyed chewing over his ideas. The pick of this month though was The Unbearable Lightness of Being. What a delight. I was captivated from the first paragraph, and found myself wanting to sneak away from social situations to read... Such a beautiful novel. February - In February I had two weeks off work which I jam packed with back-to-back outdoors missions, meaning I read very little as sleep was precious! Upon returning to work I finally read Animal Farm – I know! Still some gaping holes in my reading history. I then tried to read Suetonius' The Twelve Caesars, at the recommendation of a friend, and realised we have very different reading preferences... and that's ok! It's not often I completely give up on a book, but I did. This month I also started the audiobook of Dan Ariely's The (Honest) Truth about Dishonesty. I found this super interesting. He brings together behavioural psychology research that looks at dishonesty and cheating, and the factors that influence our likelihood to lie or cheat, including the irrational forces at play. Worth a read. March - In March I was besotted with Love in the Time of Cholera. Gosh how I long to write something so colourful yet astute, so moving and beautiful. I was also really impressed with Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo (2019 Booker prize winner). While her writing style is much more matter of fact than the more flowery authors I have been devouring, the individual storylines are so real and emotive and the interweaving of them so clever and uncontrived, it is truly a masterpiece of a novel. My junk food book this month was Where the Forest Meets the Stars. It was entertaining and sweet and easy to read. Then came Covid19 lockdown and my reading stepped up in earnest, especially those chunky books I won't ever carry into the hills. First up Arundahti Roy, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness. This took some time to wade through. While there were absolute gems of poeticism that kept me hooked, the plot was weak at times and the number of characters hard to keep track of, and meant I didn't form particularly strong attachments to any of them. Overall I thought there was enough beauty to be worth the journey, but be warned, the journey takes the reader down some dark and violent streets. April - The lockdown continued, and so did the reading… I quenched my thirst for the outdoors with back-to-back adventure books. I enjoyed Pushing His Luck, a translation of the 1863 report by Jacob Lauper, describing the first expedition over Whitcombe Pass, and consequent death of Henry Whitcombe. What an absolute suffer fest. Quite remarkable. Then I tucked into Beyond the Southern Lakes, which covers the adventures of W. G. Grave and friends, climbing and exploring Fiordland between 1897 and 1931, using Grave’s diaries as the basis. With topo maps of Fiordland wall-papered onto my van ceiling, these stories really captured my imagination and inspired all sorts of scheming for future missions. I also discovered Call Me By Your Name, based on learning that a song I liked was on the movie soundtrack based on the book… Long chain… Glad it got me here. I enjoyed this a lot!! I shared several quotes from this with a friend, until he eventually just read it himself! May - The last book I began before Lockdown ended was Slaughterhouse-Five. I appreciated the style and enjoyed the humour, I can see why people love this book. Yet, not my favourite. Then I stumbled across a copy of So you've been publicly shamed (Jon Ronson), which turned out to be super thought provoking (and funny). Social media has given us an avenue to pursue mob justice and vilify others for their transgressions. Ronson meets with people whose lives have been ruined by these shamings, while asking what other effects this culture is having on our society at large. Gooooood. June - During a long lockdown phone conversation reflecting upon our own mortality, a friend suggested the book Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro. Indeed, this book was on topic, although it had a lot more going on also. It felt faintly dystopian, while not straying all that far from the realm of possibility. I enjoyed it. I balanced that naval gazing with a fun Irish mystery novel, racing through Scenes of a Graphic Nature by Caroline O’Donoghue. July - While tramping on the West Coast, one of the huts I stayed in had a copy of Novel about my wife by Emily Perkins. I began reading as my boyfriend cooked me dinner, and soon couldn’t put it down, eventually carrying it out (I deposited it in another hut to pay it forward). While the overall storyline wasn’t as strong as it could have been – I felt she tried too hard to create a sense of mystery, leaving strands of the story vague – there was something about her writing I found immensely compelling. Be warned, this novel deals with mental illness, and at times left me questioning my own mental well-being as I was pulled into the mind of the titular wife. Then my birthday rolled around, and I was gifted Of Love and Other Demons, by one of my favourite authors, Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Great gift! As usual, beautifully written and funny. In July I also started Hillbilly Elegy, by J.D. Vance. I would really recommend it. He explores his own childhood and cultural background, as a self-identified hillbilly, exploring how the U.S. has reached a point of such immense cultural division. He has some pretty fascinating insights that helped to humanise Trump voters for me. August - A friend of mine loaned me a copy of Paul Powell’s mountaineering book Just where do you think you've been? I loved his writing style, warm and down to earth, and the way his love for the mountains shone through. It was less a story of mountain summits, more a story of friendships formed and cemented, of quiet moments of contemplation and a deep appreciation for shelter, be that a bivvy rock or a mountain hut. I will also confess to listening to all of the audiobook of Outlander. What started out as an entertaining historical story, several hours in turned into lady porn. Which wasn’t all bad, but even I skipped a few sex scenes as they started to get a bit much! In the hills I ripped through an old copy of Barry Crump’s Wild Pork and Watercress I found in a hut. He’s a classic kiwi author for a reason, with a knack for a good yarn. Knowing that the film Hunt for the Wilderpeople is based on this, I was surprised to see how much more depth the book had. The slowly building relationship between Ricky and Hec, the building of bush skills and resilience over time, and the growing sense that maybe the state should just leave them to it… Plus a surprising end. September - By now I had managed to track down more Emily Perkins, and I tucked into a short story collection titled Not her Real Name. I decided this must be Perkins’ strong suit, as the stories were consistently brilliant. Again, she dealt often with themes of mental illness, and her stories were engaging and emotive. October I continued on the Perkins train and polished off The Forests next, and decided that I love her as a novelist after all! This book takes you on a journey, following the Forrest siblings from childhood to old age, weaving in several perspectives. She shows us the imperfections and flaws of them all, as well as their struggles. I felt it was a mirror, showing hidden yet shared elements of the human experience, and making me look at my own motivations and life choices. November - For November I thought I would finally try some science fiction, picking up Dune. It was quite the change of pace, and the style took me a bit of getting used to (particularly the extent to which the world of Dune had its own language and terminology). But I am glad I stuck with it, as it was a great adventure, and I enjoyed reflecting upon the archetypal characters - particularly Paul’s journey from prodigal son to guerrilla warrior / prophet, with the moral conflict he felt. December - I rounded out the year with a couple of books I’ve been hearing people mention lately. First, Their Eyes Were Watching God, by Zora Neala Hurston. I found myself having some trouble settling in, due to the way she used phonetic spelling for the speech of her characters. But once I got in the swing of it, it worked, and in between there were sections of prose that I really liked. An unflinching portrayal of imperfect characters moving through a flawed world, and a glimpse into the experience of being coloured in America in the 1930’s. I washed that down with Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. I found the concept really entertaining, and enjoyed the way he surprised you with old gods hidden within banal characters, in humorous ways. I also enjoyed the sarcastic commentary on modern life, and the observation that “religions are, by definition, metaphors, after all.” Jordan Peterson would counter that they are much more than mere metaphor, but I’m not so sure… 😉
3 Comments
Jamie
3/6/2021 07:09:37 pm
Thanks for sharing!!! Love all of this!
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Roger Leslie
3/6/2021 11:13:41 pm
I too was wondering why you don't write a book yourself - I'll buy one
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Sonya
3/7/2021 09:33:56 am
I enjoyed reading your report, great stuff. 'Night train to Lisbon' was one of my favourite reads last year, and the Swiss author put so much cultural reference in there, delightful!
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I am a conservation field worker in New Zealand. I love mountains, sunrises, river swims, barefeet, cold beer, campfires, live music and whiskey. Archives
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