This year, I read 60 books. A nice round total. I read a hodgepodge of all sorts of different things, ranging from literary criticism, fat historical volumes and weighty classics to popular fiction, modern plays and young adult novels, reflecting the fact that I spent most of the year doing an MA in Victorian Literature part time, spend my days teaching English to teenagers and am a member of a book club and record a podcast that require me to read books chosen by other people. In fact, when looking closely at the list of books I’ve read throughout 2018, there are surprisingly few that I actually chose to read, or that were plucked from my existing collection. I buy a phenomenal amount of books, I’ve realised, with excellent intentions, of course – yet probably read only about 10% of the books I read within the year I buy them – only really those that I’ve bought because I’ve got to read them for whatever reason. That means I have shelves and shelves of books that have been sitting there, waiting to be read, for years, and the total of unread books is growing every year.
Now I have my own flat and have been reunited with all of my books, most of which have been in storage for some years, the reality of this excess of unread books is surrounding me on a daily basis, taunting me. It is weighing on my conscience, I must say. I don’t have a wardrobe full of unworn clothes, so why bookshelves of unread books? And why do I keep buying more when I already own so many I’ve not read? Obviously it’s the pleasure of being in bookshops, the thrill of the chase, the delight in finding a longed-for edition, an overlooked treasure, the final volume in a long-amassed collection – but, breathless joy aside – the reality is, I need to actually take stock and enjoy what I have. I have made three new year’s resolutions for 2019 – reduce the amount of plastic I use, reduce the amount of stuff I buy, and go swimming twice a week. My book habits fall neatly into the second category. I really don’t need to buy any more books. I have enough unread ones to last me for years as it is. So, this new year is going to be the year of reading what I already have. If I’m desperate to read a new release, I’ll get it from the library. I want to finally read all those classics I’ve been avoiding, as well as the cult classics I pretend I’ve read. I also want to make the time to re-read old favourites. I’m excited about it. It’s going to be great. During the year, I’m going to make a list of all the books I’ve been tempted to buy but haven’t, and then if I still really want them by 2020, I can buy them then. It’ll be interesting to see how many books I thought I wanted weren’t really that necessary to my happiness after all!
Well, enough about 2019. What about 2018?
The book I wish I hadn’t wasted my time reading:
Dear Mrs Bird by A J Pierce. Oh, I was so excited about this book. It had a beautiful cover, was about a magazine agony aunt during WWII, and was set in London – it promised to be a delight. Instead, I found it cloyingly, clumsily written, with an irritatingly fey narrator and a painfully predictable plot that ticked every cliché about WWII. Definitely something I wish I hadn’t wasted my money buying!
The book I recommended most often:
The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton. I had so much fun reading this brilliant, complex, thrilling murder mystery with such a unique plot that I couldn’t help but force everyone else I know to read it. I’ve even got one of my classes at school reading it for their holiday homework! If you love a good murder mystery and want to be kept up until 2am because you can’t bear to stop reading, this is definitely a book you want to get to sooner rather than later!
The book I was most glad about having read:
Vanity Fair by William Thackeray. Goodness me, it was a slog. But having finished my MA in Victorian Studies in September (whoop!), I couldn’t in all conscience call myself a semi-expert in the Victorian era if I hadn’t read one of its most famous novels. Plus there was a new TV series of it that I wanted to watch, so I had to read the book first. I did enjoy it, and I am very glad I’ve read it, but I certainly won’t be in a rush to read it again!
My favourite new author discovery:
Definitely Dorothy L Sayers. I love a good vintage crime novel, and I thought Agatha Christie couldn’t possibly be bettered, but then I found Dorothy. I’m never looking back! I love the character of Lord Peter Wimsey, who is much more three dimensional than Poirot, and someone the reader is encouraged to care about and feel a connection to through the way we are given access to his past and to the wider members of his family. I also love Sayers’ prose, which is elegant and stylish, far more so than the more functional writing of Christie. I’ve bought up most of her books and have them waiting on my bookshelves – I can’t wait to read more in 2019!
My biggest reading surprise:
I was dreading teaching Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton to my Year 11 class this year. I didn’t know very much about South Africa and its history, I knew nothing about the author, and the first few chapters I found oddly stilted and confusing. I couldn’t see myself being able to teach it with the enthusiasm and passion I would like. But as I read more, and then studied it with my class, I found myself falling in love with this beautiful, heartfelt novel that is so skilfully and passionately written. It is a true classic: a book that creates characters who will stay with you forever, and that teaches you something profound about the human condition. Most surprising for me was that my students loved it too. Probably because it meant they got to laugh at me getting tearful whenever I talked about particular characters, but…for a book to get through to a group of reluctant readers, it’s got to be something special. If you’ve never read it, I really encourage you to give it a try.
My favourite book of the year:
Little by Edward Carey. I first discovered this when looking through the list on Amazon of new releases coming up in the months ahead, and though I’d never heard of the author, was fascinated by the premise. A novel about Marie Tussaud’s life in 18th century France, told from her perspective, it is a beautifully written tale of one woman’s indomitable spirit, and also a novel about love, artistry and self-reliance. I loved every page, and I also loved the illustrations. Edward Carey is a very unique literary voice and I’m really looking forward to reading more by him in future. I’m currently reading Alva and Irva, his earlier novel, for Tea or Books?, and probably, if I were to finish before midnight, that would have been my joint favourite book of the year!
Thank you so much for reading along with me in 2018 – I wish you all a very Happy New Year!