Dec. 27th, 2016 12:54 pm
Some Books I Liked This Year
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lisa_goldsteinNot necessarily books that came out in 2016, but books I read this year.
So, Anyway…, by John Cleese: Funny, delightful, filled with stories about Cleese's fascinating early life. Cleese comes across as talented, self-deprecating, and, as I wrote earlier, "a genuinely decent person. He seems to have liked just about everyone, and when he introduces someone he is not only generous with his praise but specific with it, telling us exactly what he likes about them and what kind of talents they have."
Cuckoo Song, by Frances Hardinge: Hardinge writes about the undersides of things, what happens beneath bridges, or in the middle of the night, or on the flip side of folk tales. This one takes the changeling story and turns it inside out. But the best part about it is the characters, who are a mix of good and bad, helpful and inconsistent — just like real people.
Furiously Happy, by Jenny Lawson: I loved Lawson’s Let’s Pretend This Never Happened so much that I was a bit worried about picking up this one, because I didn’t see how it could possibly live up to the earlier book. But in a way it’s even better, because here she’s devastatingly honest about her depression. And it’s hilarious, which is rare — you don’t get too many funny books about depression. Highly recommended for depressives, and for other people too.
Dreams of Distant Shores, by Patricia McKillip: Short stories by the amazing Patricia McKillip. I got to blurb this one, so I may be just a teeny bit biased. Here’s what I said: "Anyone about to open this book is a very lucky person indeed. You are about to encounter mysteries, monsters jewels, songs, witches, a treasure chest of story. Here are magic worlds, places of enchantment, and a wonderful, lyrical voice to guide you through them.”
This Census Taker, China Mieville: The narrator, a young boy, lives in a harsh, strange, mountainous region, in the aftermath of some catastrophe which is never named. His father may or may not have killed his mother, and while the boy is still trying to deal with this, a census taker comes to his village and starts asking questions. Mieville seems to thrive on taking risks with his fiction — this is really not like anything I’ve ever read before. Watch out for acronyms.
Medusa’s Web, by Tim Powers: Powers weaves a story around some Los Angeles history, an addictive pastime among old-time movie stars, and a modern-day gothic family. I think this is what used to be called “fantasy with rivets,” where the magic is worked out as rigorously as any science, and while I usually prefer my fantasy to be more mysterious, I did like this, probably because the family’s story was compelling and I enjoyed the history.
So, Anyway…, by John Cleese: Funny, delightful, filled with stories about Cleese's fascinating early life. Cleese comes across as talented, self-deprecating, and, as I wrote earlier, "a genuinely decent person. He seems to have liked just about everyone, and when he introduces someone he is not only generous with his praise but specific with it, telling us exactly what he likes about them and what kind of talents they have."
Cuckoo Song, by Frances Hardinge: Hardinge writes about the undersides of things, what happens beneath bridges, or in the middle of the night, or on the flip side of folk tales. This one takes the changeling story and turns it inside out. But the best part about it is the characters, who are a mix of good and bad, helpful and inconsistent — just like real people.
Furiously Happy, by Jenny Lawson: I loved Lawson’s Let’s Pretend This Never Happened so much that I was a bit worried about picking up this one, because I didn’t see how it could possibly live up to the earlier book. But in a way it’s even better, because here she’s devastatingly honest about her depression. And it’s hilarious, which is rare — you don’t get too many funny books about depression. Highly recommended for depressives, and for other people too.
Dreams of Distant Shores, by Patricia McKillip: Short stories by the amazing Patricia McKillip. I got to blurb this one, so I may be just a teeny bit biased. Here’s what I said: "Anyone about to open this book is a very lucky person indeed. You are about to encounter mysteries, monsters jewels, songs, witches, a treasure chest of story. Here are magic worlds, places of enchantment, and a wonderful, lyrical voice to guide you through them.”
This Census Taker, China Mieville: The narrator, a young boy, lives in a harsh, strange, mountainous region, in the aftermath of some catastrophe which is never named. His father may or may not have killed his mother, and while the boy is still trying to deal with this, a census taker comes to his village and starts asking questions. Mieville seems to thrive on taking risks with his fiction — this is really not like anything I’ve ever read before. Watch out for acronyms.
Medusa’s Web, by Tim Powers: Powers weaves a story around some Los Angeles history, an addictive pastime among old-time movie stars, and a modern-day gothic family. I think this is what used to be called “fantasy with rivets,” where the magic is worked out as rigorously as any science, and while I usually prefer my fantasy to be more mysterious, I did like this, probably because the family’s story was compelling and I enjoyed the history.
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