Oddly, I read the majority of the books I loved most this year in either
September or October. The first half of the year was pretty much a wash - I read
some fairly unremarkable stuff for the better part of six months -
yikes! I guess that can happen when you get a random collection of books
from friends of libraries book sales. I think the reason that the final third of the year
was such a success in the reading department was that I invested some
serious money at Amazon, The Strand, and Better World Books to buy books that I
expressly wanted to read. Lo and behold, I actually found them
interesting and got a lot more out of them than random best sellers. This may have also been due
to the fact that many of these books were non-fiction, so not only were
they enjoyable to read, but I also learned a bunch of stuff, which is
even more enjoyable. I read a lot of horrible and/or unremarkable
fiction this year (Super Sad True Love Story, Goon Squad, An Expensive Education....
I could go on), and the non-fiction really helped to counter that. Of
course I did read some great fiction as well, but most of it was written
fifty or more years ago - can't beat the classics!
1. Airborne, Atlantic High, Racing Through Paradise, and WindFall, William F. Buckley, Jr.
Let's see: I now have a good grasp on the theoretical mechanics behind heaving to and reefing; I have a basic understanding of celestial navigation, as well as how to do it using computers from the late 70s and early 80s; and I know a lot about the New York and DC high society and political landscapes from that same era. These books were such a pleasure to read and reinvigorated my travel bug big time. Now, St. Maartin (or Saint Mart as the cool kids - i.e. WFB - call it), Bermuda, the Azores, and Fiji (international dateline sign!) are all high on my list of desired destinations. Buckley's writing style is equally warm and informative, with many off-the-cuff observations that made me laugh out loud and put a huge smile on my face. The fact that Buckley keeps his crew consistent from trip to trip is a wonderful opportunity to get to know some remarkable men and enabled me to feel that I was a bit more immersed in these journeys. Even though I would be loathe to ever spend 30 days on a sailboat, I do love the ocean, and it was a joy to be a fly on the wall of these Atlantic and Pacific crossings with Buckley and crew. I am indebted to these books for revitalizing my sense of curiosity about travel, history, and politics - I had missed that great feeling of intellectual stimulation for far too long.
This book still haunts me, nine months after reading it. Wallace's forays into dreams and imagined scenarios have incredible staying power, largely due to his incredibly detailed and vivid descriptions. I have such strong images in my head from many of these stories, and I have a feeling they will be with me for a long time to come. The Soul Is Not A Smithy remains particularly haunting - the concept of comic book panels is an extremely effective one for bringing a story-within-a-story to life (several of the stories are a bit Inception-esque, though much better than Inception). Satisfyingly challenging and thought provoking.
Glamour, politics, and intrigue make for a ripping good story, and an educational one as well. The optimistic and carefree attitude that Roald Dahl, Ian Fleming, David Ogilvy, and their contemporaries in the British spy ring in Washington D.C. and New York during WW II were able to sustain during war time reminded me of the tone of Michener's Tales of The South Pacific, a great favorite of mine. As a bonus, Conant follows through past the war, explaining how Fleming ended up with Goldeneye on Jamaica and how Ogilvy got into advertising. Seeing the war through fresh eyes/another nation's perspective is fascinating in itself, but is made even more interesting by the illustrious young men who lived it and took inspiration for their later careers.
4. Sword of Honour trilogy, Evelyn Waugh
Like all the best Waugh books, this trilogy tackles the Establishment with wit and aplomb. There is also the ever-present theme of Catholicism and how Catholic families fit into English society. I found Men at Arms extremely entertaining, even laughing out loud on occasion. Yet beneath his cutting repartee, Waugh manages to capture the uncertainty and questions of duty that plagued a generation. Officers & Gentlemen continues the saga, but with less religion and more military farce. Waugh captures the pointless bureaucracy of war so deftly; the ridiculous acronyms (DLFHOO, anybody?) made me chuckle each time a new one was introduced. The narrative finally concludes with The End of the Battle (or, for those in Britain, Unconditional Surrender), a much more serious and somber novel than the two that proceed it. The ravages of a long war are finally taking their toll, and the weariness of it all, as well as the issues of displaced Jews and the difficulties of living in London during wartime are among the many topics Waugh examines with much darker satire in this volume. It amazes, though does not surprise, me that each book in this trilogy takes on such a different tone, and yet all three books stand together coherently as one unit.
This book is about so many things I love and/or am interested in, including Victorian England, tea, New York, yacht races, and branding. Lipton's rags to riches story, skillfully enhanced with period details and background information by D'Antonio, is truly engaging. I was fascinated to learn about Lipton, a man who so thoroughly understood the concept of lifestyle branding before there was even such a thing; he is a proto-Ralph Lauren. The first half of the book focuses on Lipton's rise to prominence, while the second focuses on what he did once he had arrived, namely his pursuit of the America's Cup. D'Antonio does a wonderful job bringing the drama of the yacht races to life. His narration makes them both breathlessly exciting and easy to follow. There were many times when reading this book that I wished I could step back in time to witness some of the events in Lipton's life first-hand.
Yates's propulsive prose serves as the perfect foil for the claustrophobic, fatalistic, and oppressive version of reality he crafts within the pages of this hypnotic book. While Revolutionary Road serves as counter-commentary to books like The Man In The Gay Flannel Suit (see below), it still has amazing resonance today. While Flannel Suit sees suburban life as a cozy, bucolic idyll, Road sees it as an inescapable prison of its inhabitants's own designs. One element of Yates's style that I particularly enjoyed was the fact that he reveals the ideal conversations and scenarios that characters imagine before plunging back into the imperfections of their reality -- a device with which many a reader, including myself, can identify all too closely.
Watching season four of Mad Men in August inspired me to seek out books that influenced the show or are from that same era (late 50s and early 60s). I took to the internet to find this wonderfully curated list of books seen or mentioned on the show. Thank goodness for public librarians! (And also Vulture and Flavorpill.) Gray Flannel Suit was a particularly good read to keep the Don Draper vibe going; I can definitely see that many elements of the show took inspiration from Wilson's novel. It also serves as a great contrast to Revolutionary Road, the two books together each illustrating a side of the same coin (see above).
A non-fiction version of High Fidelity (albeit way better), but set in Boston. Wicked lovable. I greatly enjoy Sheffield's writing style and his simple, raw observations about life, family, relationships, and the omnipresence of music - particularly pop music - throughout it all, no matter what else is going on. It was interesting to compare my own experiences with, and relationships to, certain songs with those of Sheffield. Even though music can act as a common language, it speaks differently to each and every one of us. On a side note, it occurred to me that if this book had been written by someone exactly my age, it might have been called "Talking to Girls About Dave Matthews Band," which would make me feel sorry for everyone involved.
9. How Did You Get This Number, Sloane Crosley
A must read for any young New Yorker. Crosley's writing is charming, breezy, funny, and honest. I found myself alternately sighing with relief that I wasn't the only person to have had various experiences and chuckling at things that I know all too well to be true about living in our fair city.
10. Godforsaken Sea, Derek Lundy
While this book is a mess (a much more linear narrative would make this story more palatable and easier to grasp for anyone who is not a sailor or sailing enthusiast), it is also thrilling and highly engaging. The Vendée Globe is a wicked inspiring race, and those who chose to take part in it are even more inspiring. I finished this book in three days, in part because when Lundy got to a harrowing bit of the story, he put me on the edge of my seat like nobody's business. He captures the sailors's fears, stresses, and triumphs with a high level of emotion. Like Shadow Divers, this book makes accessible both the great risks and the great thrills of such a massively challenging undertaking. This book made me contemplate what "greatness" is and what it takes to get there.
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