The fun thing about GoodReads is keeping track of what you read by date. In the spirit of making everything one big competition, I couldn’t help but notice that I have read significantly fewer books in 2018 as I did in 2017. I honestly don’t know what I did with my time; what with moving to Stittsville on a 4-week notice, driving the children back to school in Carleton Place for two months, Paul being in Latvia for part of the Summer, having physical therapy several times a week, looking for work and finding it, it’s hard to believe I wouldn’t have time to “yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of (my) mind by extensive reading.”
In January, I finished reading “Papillon” by Henri Charrière. “Papillon” is the questionable autobiography of Henri Charrière, a French man unjustly sentenced to forced
After finishing “Papillon” I tackled “All the Light We Cannot See” by Anthony Doerr. This book left its mark as one of the best-written, gut-wrenching books I have ever read. From its unique story to its creative structure (I must have read the book three times for all the times I re-read chapters from the vantage point of the characters as they were revealed) it is a true work of genius.
In February and
In April, we set the wheels in motions for our move to Stittsville and it looks like I didn’t read much. Imagine that!
In May, I started reading “Two” by Gulzar. Gulzar is a prolific poet and lyric-writer for some of Bollywood’s most beloved soundtracks. “Two” was his first novel and it chronicles the migration of two groups of villagers over the confusing few months preceding the partition of India and Pakistan. Before the lines were
In July and August, I read “L’étranger” by Albert Camus. What can I write about this book that hasn’t been written before? It’s a French classic about a man whose naiveté and honesty — and stupidity? — cause his downfall. He is in equal parts victim of his own choices and wrapped up in events beyond his control, which makes him nearly impossible to sympathize with or completely hate. That’s the genius of Camus’ writing: his ability to show us our own absurdity and hubris through
August to October
In August to October, I slugged through “The God of Small Things” and wrote a review about it. You can read it here. Please read it. I almost broke my brain writing it.
In November I started “East of Eden” by John Steinbeck. Then I found a job. Then my e-reader ran out of juice and I couldn’t find my charger (try that excuse with a paperback!). I’m only on chapter 4 but every sentence is distilled perfection. I already have several index cards with “perfectly written phrases” kicking around. I know this book will bowl me over. I’ll write about it in 2019.
In December I started working at City Hall for my municipal
There you have it! Books from 2018. What did you read?