Having been inspired by @RubyClaireee's 2019 Literary Memoir, I too decided to sit down and reflect upon all I've read this year. I had made a New Year's resolution to read more, and it has been one of my richest reading years in a long time, helped along by great bookish yarns with friends. Yeahhhhhh. Let's keep it rolling!
January – I saw the New Year in reading The Body is Not an Apology, by Sonya Renee Taylor. She challenged me to look at my own biases and assumptions around bodies, which was at times uncomfortable. A tiny book that packs a punch. I then polished off my Christmas pressie books, first Wild Journeys, by Bruce Ainsley. I found it a bit heavy on the kiwi nostalgia, but I loved Ainsley's writing style. I found him charismatic and engaging and left it in a backcountry hut for my fellow trappers to enjoy. Next was Ajax the Kea Dog, by my mate Corey Mosen, which I read while volunteering on a kea-banding trip. Appropriate. Get yourself a copy if you want a feel-good read. I listened to the audiobook of Boy Swallows Universe over four sunny day trapping in Takahe country. This wee gem is at once a story of trauma and violence, and also hope and love. Heart warming and raw, I fell in love with Trent Dalton and downloaded his podcasts as soon as the book was over. My actual book on this trip was The Tunnel, by Ernesto Sabato. I'm still not sure what I made of this, or my friend's insistence that I read it. My next audio binge was The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, which had me screaming YESSSSS into the wind and rain as I trudged along tussock ridgelines in foul weather, noddding my head in agreement with Mark Manson repeatedly. On point. The same trip I subjected myself to a dystopian binge of Brave New World, followed by We (rumoured to have inspired 1984), while cooped up in a tiny hut on a rain day, watching the river rise closer and closer to my door. It got intense. I then tried to start reading The Spirit Level and felt an interesting discomfort in my belly. I am all for trying to make society a better place for everyone, but can we walk in that direction without taking things too far? Eerrrmmmm. I still haven't sat back down with these thoughts. Anyone want to email me to dicsuss? February - In February, there was a guy in my life. Instead of reading, my evenings were filled with talk, and star gazing, and cuddles and lovely feelings. I carried around Mr Explorer Douglas, and read him snippets from Douglas' diaries. I loved Douglas' fondness for, and personification of, kaka, and his scathing humour. For example: “Why shouldn't cliffs tower and peaks stand erect? Do people expect them to lie flat? An ice cave is blue, what other colour could it be?” Oh, Charlie. You grumpy old man. I was also slowly making my way through the audiobook of 21 Lessons for the 21st Century, which I soon followed with Sapiens. I'm sure you've heard of Yuval Noah Harari by now. If not, give one of his books a go. At least one of your friends will be keen to talk about it, I'm very sure! March - In March, a friend and workmate was reading Butler's Ringlet, and hearing him talk about it I swiftly followed suit. Lawrence Fearnley is truly one of my all time favourite authors. I followed this with another of hers, The Quiet Spectacular. Both were sublime. I feel like she achieves what Jordon Peterson talks of as “suprareal”, when a good work of fiction is more real than reality, telling us something deeper about what it means to be human. Mmmmmm. April - In April I was listening to Mutiny on the Bounty, an entertaining exploration of the fascinating story of the HMS Bounty. Bligh sound in Fiordland is named after the Captain of the Bounty, and there is a Bounty Haven nearby. This caught my curiosity, and the story lived up to my expectation. I'd definitely recommend doing some digging if you're not familiar with these events. I may have stolen* from someone in the office a copy of The Go-Between by L.P. Hartley, which was surprisingly good! Drama, human emotion, intrigue, passion. Told through the eyes of an old man reflecting upon a period of his childhood, in a way that made it feel quite poignant. [*Long term loan? If you own this book, I'm sorry, I can post it back!] I spent a rain day in a hut reading The Road, by Cormac McCarthy, at the encouragement of the same friend who gave me The Tunnel. As soon as I was out of the hills I messaged him, “Why would you do that to me?!?” Far out. I have never found such a bleak and tense feeling book. Granted it is superbly crafted, but I felt so on edge and uncomfortable, and will never shake the image of the small boy sighing, “warm at last.” My workmate arrived at the hut to find me openly weeping. May - At the end of April, things came to an end with the guy. Nevertheless he loaned me his copy of Norwegian Wood, to introduce me to Murikami. Wow! Where has this author been all my life? Less magical realism than his other books, what Murikami does well here is create incredibly authentic charcaters, flawed and relatable. I couldn't help but become wildly invested. On a side note, this marked a new trend of receiving “break up books,” having been given a copy of Factfulness last winter from an ex, the day after he called things off. It created a curious contrast in myself, as I was devastated at my loss, but thrilled at the book and given a new sense of hope about the world. Hmmm. My audiobook of choice this month was Lost Connections, Yohann Hari's exploration of the causes of depression, and why mental health problems seem to be so common in our time. I found it super interesting and chatted my friends' ears off about it. I also listened to Normal People, by Sally Rooney, which was quite beautiful, and made me heart ache a little bit. June - I kicked off June camped among the Pines, at Mt Arapiles, Victoria. I spent my days learning to lead trad, or following my friends up exciting multi-pitch routes, and my evenings sat around a campfire making new pals. We had a fair few rainy/cold days, and I was grateful for my hammock and finally got into Anna Karenina, which I had been slowly wading into over the past few weeks. Tolstoy had hooked me early on with gems like, “all the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow.” I came to appreciate the slow build, became very fond of Konstantin Levin, and by the end I was loving it. Such a clever and lovely book. At the Pines I scored a copy of Paul Pritchard's Totem Pole, an engaging tale of his horrific climbing accident and amazing recovery. Once I returned to NZ, I borrowed Paul's earlier book, Deep Play. What he lacks in writing style, he makes up for in entertaining yarns. Such an interesting character. July - In July I spent two weeks building out the back of my newly acquired van into a camper. I was accompanied by the audiobook of All the Light We Cannot See. I do wish I had just read it, as I feel I missed the power of some of the prose. It is a beautiful book, and clever, and I thoroughly enjoyed the seperate storylines coming together later in the book. However, it was a little on the long side... Can I say that, as I turn this blog post into a mini novel? August - I was back to work in August, amid a winter wonderland of snow-laden trees and majestic peaks. I listened to Stephen Fry's Mythos, and Heroes, giggling at the way he brought the characters to life with a cheeky application of modern sensibilities. I remembered my teenage facination with the Greeks and Romans, and started listening to Natalie Haynes' Stands Up For The Classics, and polished off her book A Thousand Ships, a re-telling of the Trojan War, through the perspectives of several of the women involved. I thought this was such a neat idea, and it was well delivered. Cool book! I also read The Trial, before accepting that Kafka just isn't really for me. I really wanted to like him. I didn't enjoy Metamorphosis, but felt I had to give him a second chance. Oh well. Horses for courses, as my ex would always say. September - September appears to have been a doozy for book consumption for me. I kicked things off in the Eglington valley reading Sigrid Crump's autobiographical Bushwoman infront of the fire. A short read, but just so cool to hear from such a non-traditional female role model. Her life was so unconventional and wild, and yet humble. I wonder how many characters there have been like this around NZ, that just fly under the radar. I followed this with How to be a Woman, by Caitlin Moran, chuckling my way through at her bold, truthful, cheeky style, while also realising what a bubble I live in, as many of her pop culture references flew right by me. Keeping on the empowered lady vibe, I gave in and downloaded The Guilty Feminist, by Deborah Francis-White. A long-time listener to her podcast, I wasn't sure I'd get much out of the book, but in fact I found plenty of new material, and enjoyed the more structured presentation of her ideas in book form. After this trifecta, I was feeling so empowered and fired up. I got my hands on another Murakami book, After Dark. Far out. I love him. There was a dialogue about death / mortality that I just kept re-reading, my arms covered in goosebumps with the recognition of my deepest thoughts and fears. I then gave Hunter S. Thompson my first dabble (shocking, I know), reading Screwjack. I confess, it did not grab me in the way I thought it might. But I will keep him on my reading list. My audiobook selection was light. The Dry, Jane Harper, and The Sisters, Dervla McTiernan provided entertaining crime fiction / murder mystery fodder. Not my usual style, but tasty treats. I think my best friend would probably call this my “junk food” reading. October - In October I spent two weeks working in the gorgeous forest of the Iris Burn, around the Kepler track, listening to The Testaments, Margaret Atwood's latest. It lived up to my expextations, classic Atwood. I found a copy of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, The Autumn of the Patriach, in the hut and struggled my way through run-on sentences lasting several pages, hanging in there for the joy of some lush writing and beautiful gems. He is such a talented writer, and his books are so masterfully translated. For my next work stint I was loaned a copy of Degrees for Everyone, by former New Zealand politican Bob Jones. A satirical take on campus politics and the commercialisation of universities, I did find this really quite funny, although those who knew me at university may be a little shocked by that. I guess I am becoming a little more moderate in my old age. Concurrently I was listening to Dark Emu, in which Bruce Pascoe brings together a string of evidence that aboriginal culture was more complex and sophisticated than the common narrative would have us believe. Including excerpts from accounts of early Australian explorers, this book is really interesting and I feel that anyone living in Australia should really give it a whirl. November - In November I finally got stuck into Sam Harris's Waking Up, after enjoying several of his podcasts. I'm so glad I did, as the book delivered more than I'd expected. Not just a personal tale of the benefits of meditation, a la Dan Harris (10% Happier), Waking Up delves into neuroscience and psychology, and is unerringly rational while not shying from discussing spirituality. I liked it. I wasn't sure if I would include this, as it feels very embarassing, but.... Having listened to a Bang podcast about Kink, I gave into curiosity and downloaded the entire 50 Shades trilogy to my Kindle. Of all the books I read this year, these three were the biggest waste of my time. Why did I read all three? Some kind of masochistic curiosity? I couldn't help wondering how these books are so popular with so many women, and secretly hoping they would get more kinky... But ultimately, these books are romance novels about a dysfunctional, borderline abusive relationship, with a whiff of kinky sex. Kink is treated as an appalling thing to be ashamed of, and only resulting from Grey's tragic abusive childhood. Ahhhhh. So bad. December - My final couple of weeks of work for the year were pretty physically punishing, as we were replacing a lot of our traps, which meant lugging heavy loads around. This lead me to seek light listening – a lot of comedy podcasts – until I discovered Sarah Pascoe's book Sex, Power, Money. Many of my friends have had to endure me raving about this book over the past few weeks, but for good reason! Pascoe lends her cheeky brand of comedy to a thought-provoking, intelligent look at what makes us tick, exploring a range of subjects including dating, gender norms and expectations, masturbation, pornography, power imbalances, and evolutionary biology. She is refreshingly upfront about her own biases and assumptions and challenges them. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I saw the year out savouring Leonard Cohen's Beautiful Losers. Dark, erotic, tragic, mesmerising. Yessssssss. Happy New Year, ya beautiful losers ;)
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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
September 2020
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