2020: My 11 Favourite Books

Books!

To take my mind off the world in 2020, I tried to read quite a lot. These were my eleven favourite books of the year (5 fiction, 4 non-fiction, 2 children's):

Hot Milk by Deborah Levy

Back when I used to work in Hull, and commute endlessly back and forth along the A1079, one of my sources of solace was Radio 4, especially Great Lives and A Good Read. In one episode of the latter, the guests raved about Deborah Levy and, having not read any of her books, I added her to my Christmas 2019 author wishlist. Hot Milk was one of the two novels I received, and it is as terrific as A Good Read promised it would be.

Sophia, the daughter of a Yorkshirewoman (from Warter, near Pocklington), finds herself in Almeria, trying to help her mother get medical treatment. As said mother is unable or unwilling to walk, most of the action happens in a fairly small area, but this just gives Levy's writing space to wander, and ponder. It is a rich and rewarding exploration of the human condition. I chugged Hot Milk down, went back for seconds, and then handed it to a friend and demanded they read it. I am now reading The Man Who Saw Everything.

After I'd quit Hull, I even drove back along the A1079 just to find out exactly where Warter was.

Warter, Warter, everywhere

The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing

I had never read anything by Doris Lessing before 2020. I only picked up this book when I was wandering around York library looking for inspiration. I am so glad I did: The Golden Notebook is an extraordinary work, centred on breakdown: mental (particularly of women, but also men); of political ideals and societal mores; and of the very idea of how a novel should be structured. Powerful and provocative, I had to read it carefully and quite slowly, but I thought it was brilliant.

The Bumblebear by Nadia Shireen

Over on Twitter, this was one of Dr Tori Herridge's recommended books for ~5 year-olds, so I bought it, and now both I and our resident ~5 year-old think The Bumblebear, about a bear that pretends to be a bee, is fab. Warm, funny, silly, a really satisfying story: I've read tons of children's books now, and lots of them are not great, sometimes absolute rubbish. The Bumblebear has been a splendid antidote; a book we keep coming back to.

The Missing Lynx by Ross Barnett

I'd been meaning for a while to read @DeepFriedDNA's book about the Ice Age creatures that used to live in Britain. On the same library trip when I borrowed The Golden Notebook, I picked up The Missing Lynx. A double-win! Ross writes about the lost lives of lions, lynxes, cave bears and giant deer, among others, and the amazing science that has uncovered them, with humour, lucidity, and some great turns of phrase. I'm always slightly sceptical when I start reading books that are in any way palaeontological, but I both thoroughly enjoyed Ross's book, and frequently learned stuff from it. Hopefully we'll soon start stocking it in The Fossil Shop!

Lynx lynx

Timefulness by Marcia Bjornerud

If people understood the Earth, and thought more like geologists, we'd be in a wholly better place. Disclaimer: I am a some-time Earth scientist. Marcia Bjornerud's premise is entirely right, though, and elegantly argued. As with The Missing Lynx, I half-expected Timefulness to be full of familiar material, but again it was excellently written, with arguments that frequently made me pause and reflect. I didn't realise that the Earth's tectonic speeds are pretty much matched by its rates of erosion, whilst I particularly liked her argument that racist geologists should have their achievements asterisked like star athletes who turned out to be drug cheats. Study the past, if you would divine (and improve) the future.

Charles Darwin's Barnacle and David Bowie's Spider by Stephen B. Heard

If people understood life on Earth, and thought more like taxonomists, we'd be in a wholly better place. Disclaimer: I am a some-time taxonomist. Stephen B. Heard's book is illuminating, thoughtful, sad and funny, revealing a great deal about humanity via the how and why of people giving scientific names to animals, plants, microbes and fossils. One of the points he makes forcefully is that science is not objective or neutral, but intrinsically human, and therefore as brilliant and as flawed as humans can be. Taxonomy is a fascinating window through which to view this.

The Innocents by Michael Crummey

In 2010 I was living and working in Newfoundland, taking a creative writing class with Rob Finley, and absorbing myself in the amazing literature of the province. Galore by Michael Crummey was one of my absolute favourites. It was a joy, therefore, to discover that he had written The Innocents, published in 2019. It was an even greater joy to read it. Crummey is just a phenomenal, beautiful writer. His people, his places, his plots: they are as diverse and fractured and exotic and complex as Newfoundland itself.

Tilt Cove

The Colony of Unrequited Dreams by Wayne Johnston

Staying with Newfoundland, I read and loved this when I lived in St John's. I read and loved it again this year. So funny, so well-characterized - what a wonderful invention Sheilagh Fielding is - and such a great telling of Newfoundland's preposterous, tragic history, particularly in the early 20th Century. Someone really should have made a film starring Toby Jones as Joey Smallwood and Fiona Shaw as Fielding.

My Big Shouting Day by Rebecca Paterson

As with The Bumblebear, Dr Tori Herridge recommended this book, and again her judgement was excellent. Our resident 4 year-old enjoyed having the story read to her. Now that she is our resident 5 year-old, and learning to read, she loves being Bella and shouting out all the dialogue in capitals such as NO SHOES!, TOO WET! and TOO MINTY! The concept of big shouting days (and recognizing them) is now firmly established in our house.

Big shouting.

The Great Romantic by Duncan Hamilton

Despite being a cricket writer, I didn't know much about Neville Cardus, and only acquired Duncan Hamilton's biography when a friend accidentally acquired two copies, but this is a terrific telling of a life that was sad, strange, and fascinating. I should probably go away and read some Cardus in 2021!

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

Various friends and colleagues said I should read some Ursula K. Le Guin. Many were disgusted that I hadn't already done so. They were right. She is a phenomenal writer. The Left Hand of Darkness was my starting point, and though I briefly struggled to get to grips with the names of the people and places, I was soon immersed in a gripping story of political intrigue, gender identity, and survival. To call it science fiction is to pigeonhole it in an unnecessary way; you don't dub Thomas Hardy's novels rural fiction, or Jane Austen's gentry fiction. Le Guin's is simply great fiction, where scientific thinking plays a part. As with Deborah Levy, I am now working my way through her other books. I am sure they will feature in my favourites of 2021.