January is a blah month and we doubled-down on the blah-ness this year, drifting into our 5th week of never-ending winter as we tromped through the snow to put away the Christmas decorations and take down the lights. And now, ass we close out on Feb, winter has lasted for 13 weeks of the coldest and snowiest we’ve had in forever. Good: lots of sun, and no news of Canadian forests burning down. Bad: not one single day above zero to tease us of a potential early spring. Erratic global politics also made concentrating on reading a struggle but the stats tell a different story. Here, then are my first 9 books of the year.
Rogue Male, by Geoffrey Household
An exciting cat-and-mouse story of a would-be assassin who escapes certain death and goes on the run from foreign agents who will stop at nothing to finish the job. Eventually he finds himself holed up (literally) in the English countryside and the chase becomes a siege from which it seems there can be no escape. Or can there?? I thought it would make a great movie, and in fact, one was made in 1976 starring Peter O-Toole, which might be worth a watch. 8/10 for the inventiveness of the chase!
The Bullet That Missed, by Richard Osman
Not much to say here. If you like this series, you’ll like this book. Personally, I am still deciding. I don’t dislike the series, but I also don’t love it. But it’s a perfect book if you’re feeling the January winter blahs and are looking for an easy way out. It’s an enjoyable read. 7/10 for that.
The Last Murder at the End of the World, by Stuart Turton
A wonderful post-apocalyptic sci-fi book! The last 122 people on Earth live peacefully on a little island, which is surrounded by a murderous fog that has killed everyone else. The fog is held at bay by a security system, until an island scientist is murdered and a countdown begins – in 107 hours, the security system will fail, unless the murder is solved. As time runs out, mysteries about the island, the residents, and the fog are tantalizingly revealed bit by bit, until the very satisfying ending. 9/10 – Highly recommended for all you dystopian and non-space-faring science fiction genre lovers!
The 7 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle, by Stuart Turton
I loved Last Murder so much, I immediately reserved Stuart Turton’s first novel. Very different from Last Murder, although with an equally clever premise. In this case, the protagonist is forced to relive the same day over and over a la Groundhog Day, in an effort to solve the upcoming murder of a guest at a fancy weekend birthday bash. The first catch is that he lives each day as a different party guest and needs to figure out how to piece clues together in an order that helps his future selves. The second catch is that if he doesn’t manage to solve the murder, he is condemned to repeat the process over and over until he does. It’s very well done, and I actually had to go back and start over after getting about 200 pages in, because you do have to pay fairly close attention to things, especially in the beginning. Unfortunately, Turton does kind of lose his way near the end, when things start to spiral a little too much out of control. It ultimately turns a really good book into a pretty good book. 7/10 for effort.
When Elephants Weep, but Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson
Do you think animals experience emotions? I mean, of course they do! But many animal scientists argue that they don’t, and we are anthropomorphizing behaviours that are in fact just based in evolutionary survivalism. Your dog is happy to see you? Wrong! Canine survival depends on the expression of behaviours that welcome members of the pack. Female elephants mourn the death of an infant elephant? Wrong again! They are just engaging in evolutionarily developed protective behaviour. This idea that animals do not feel or express emotion is nonsense IMO, and anyone paying even a modicum of attention feels it as well. When Elephants Weep contains a wealth of amazing examples of where all sorts of animal behaviours could easily be interpreted as emotional. Sounds like a top notch book to read, right? Well, buyer beware. In order to prove his case that animals experience emotions, Masson relates stories of horrific, cruel, and, in my opinion, immoral experiments conducted on animals by scientists attempting to prove animals do not. It’s a difficult read, and there is a point where Masson could have stopped citing examples of terrible actions by scientists, or at least put them in an appendix where reading them becomes a choice. He seems to forget that he is preaching to the choir – there is very little in the way of scientific evidence to support his case (because, of course, scientists aren’t studying animal emotions given they don’t believe they have any). And because we are already believers, we don’t need to tales of horror to convince us. If I were to rate this book I’d say 10/10 for the positive content, but it drops to 4/10 because of what you have to wade through to get there.
My Friends, by Fredrik Backman
A very sweet book by the author who wrote the very sweet book “A Man Called Ove”. Ove is better – books with precocious teenagers sometimes ring a little untrue to me, and this one is no different. But what it misses in slightly peculiar teenage behaviour it makes up for in love, friendship and the mystical impact and importance of art. 8/10.
An Abundance of Katherines, by John Green
The best I can say about this book is that it succeeds in its goal of being a cute little teenage sort-of romance, but sadly doesn’t transcend it’s YA genre. Sadly, it also tries to be a nerd book, leaning heavily into obsessive anagramming and a slightly complicated math formula. Tries, but does not quite hit the mark. I feel qualified to judge in this arena, being a pretty big cryptic crossword AND formula math nerd. 6/10 for effort. In case you’re in the market, The Fault In Our Stars is a better choice.
Who We Are: Four Questions for a Life and a Nation, by Murray Sinclair
I told our book club that I found this book a bit unusual in its use of colloquial language given Murray Sinclair’s background as a lawyer and senator. However, it turns out that Sinclair dictates his story to his granddaughter Sarah. With that in mind, I highly recommend listening to this as an audiobook which is read by Sinclair himself! The hardcopy that I own half Sinclair’s story answering the following four questions: Where do I come from? Where am I going? Why am I here? Who am I? The order is important and deeply meaningful, and provides insight into his Anishinaabe culture. The second half of the hardcopy is a summary of the summary of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, of which Sinclair was committee chair. This half is probably better read than listened to, and is worth your time. 10/10 for its impact in raising awareness of our Indigenous communities.
The Migrant Rain Falls in Reverse, by Vinh Nguyen
Vinh Nguyen, along with his mother and siblings, flee Vietnam after the Vietnam war, and spend years in a refugee camp awaiting approval to enter Canada. His father follows months later but vanishes enroute and is presumed drowned. This memoir is Nguyen’s attempts to create a past for a father he never really knew, and come to terms with the loss of his home and culture. It wanders a bit for my taste, but I did appreciate the perspectives that he shares and is a good reminder of all we take for granted. 6/10.
