2019’s Books Worth Remembering

Memory: An Origin Story

Long ago, the great poet Simonides was invited to present a lyric poem in honor of his host, a nobleman of Thessaly. (We’ll call him Cecil.) Amidst his performance, Simonides praised twin gods Castor and Pollux, making Cecil, a jealous man, angry. When Simonides finished, Cecil said that he would only pay half of what he had previously agreed. “Get the other half from Castor and Pollux,” he said, snidely. 

Later that night, a guest informed Simonides that Castor and Pollux were waiting for him just outside the banquet hall, so Simonides ventured off to find them. Soon after departing, the entire hall collapsed, and every person within was crushed to death. Simonides stood alone outside, the sole survivor.

Beneath the rubble, the bodies were so unrecognizable that family members wishing to give their loved one a proper burial could not identify them. Fortunately, Simonides remembered exactly where each guest had been sitting before the building fell and was able to guide each family to their loved one’s body. 

It was from this experience that Simonedes developed the principles that helped form “the art of memory.” (FYI: Castor and Pollux never showed up, and Simonides remains short his fair share of payment to this very day.)

True story.

The Books Worth Remembering

The world is a wacky place. Luckily, the ability to escape for a few precious moments each day is possible through a good book. In 2019, I read 62 of them, which is more than your average bear but fewer than your average genius. I aspire to genius level, so next year I’ll strive to read at least 63.

How do I find the time to read so much? I just do. I listen to audiobooks in the car and while doing mindless chores and have a book in my purse most of the time. I only watch about 30% of any given child’s sporting event. Also, I have chronic insomnia. And I’m just gonna say it: telling me that you WISH you had the time to read that much is kind of a passive aggressive, self-important thing to say.

Now that I’ve offended you, let’s move on.

There’s a lot to be said for quality over quantity. I didn’t spent the year reading all high-caliber material. And I read very little non-fiction. I DID read a lot of low-quality escapist drivel this past year, and while I’m not ashamed, exactly, I think transparency is important. “Justin and Hazel’s Guide to Not Dating”? It was no “War and Peace,” I’ll tell you that. (I think Justin and Hazel ended up dating in the end.) IN FACT, looking over my book list, I can’t seem to remember many of the  basic plot lines of the novels I read. For instance, I gave “Miss You” by Kate Eberlen four stars, but I’m unsure why. When I read the synopsis there’s this glimmer of recognition, but for the most part, the story just didn’t stick in the old noodle. 

I’m not the only person who reads a book and then, posthaste, proceeds to forget it. There’s a great article about this phenomena in The Atlantic. Scientists suggest that as technology advances, our ability to remember becomes worse. Today’s average reader feels less inclined to hold on to information because they know it can be easily accessed at a later date. Now before you blame it all on the Internet and screens and millennials, the beginning of the end of memory is all the fault of the pen. Specifically, the Bic ballpoint pen, which is just the worst.

Once, long complex stories were passed on by memory (think “The Odyssey”). Then came the written word, and we began to rely on text to keep a record of our memories. Now, we have the Internet at our beck and call, so we don’t even bother to write things down. We know that all the information we need is a click away. 

We’re more likely to remember a book if we can relate it to some aspect of our life. For instance, my kids are heavy into sports and my oldest is getting ready to go to college, so the plot lines in “The Gifted School” spoke to me as a mother. “Be Frank With Me” is about a writer who lives a very closed-off life with her autistic child, Frank. As a non-practicing social recluse raising a special needs child, I identified with the story on some level. (The mother in this novel isn’t a very likable character, while I think of myself as highly likable. HIGHLY LIKABLE). “Be Frank With Me,” a wonderfully offbeat story, indented itself on my squishy frontal lobe.

Reviewing a book is a second way to burn it into your brain, whether by writing about it by re-reading it.

Story: For years, I told people that “Wuthering Heights“ was one of my favorite novels. I should have amended my statement by saying that the first half of “Wuthering Heights” is one of my favorites, because while I could recall in vivid detail the tumultuous relationship between Heathcliff and Catherine, I couldn’t tell you a thing about Catherine’s daughter, Cathy, who is the main character in the second half of the novel. In fact, the whole second half of the novel remained a complete blank. Why was that? I’m not sure. It wasn’t until I reread the book that the contents of the second half stuck in my memory a bit more. And upon each rereading, the novel became an indelible part of my memory.

All of this is to say, don’t feel bad if you don’t remember what you read last year. You’re not crazy; you’re evolving. And though some books aren’t worth remembering (sorry Josh and Hazel), hopefully they brought you some pleasure as you lived amidst their pages for a short time. 

Here are the books I read in 2019 that I think are worth remembering:

The Classics:

Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy

Fun fact: “Far From the Madding Crowd” is the only Thomas Hardy novel with a conventionally happy ending! Bathsheba Everdene is an enigmatic, strong-willed young woman character who inherits a farm. Her hands-on management style maddens her peers and farmhands (woman, know thy place!), but she gains not only their respect, but three enviable suitors, including the loyal and steadfast Gabriel Oak. Oak. Like oak tree. Oh Thomas Hardy, you with your symbolic oaks, you.

If you are a fan of sheep, this may not be the novel for you.

A Room With a View by E.M. Forster

Forster’s short, breezy novel follows Lucy Honeychurch as she consorts with those who don’t hold jobs throughout the Italian and England countryside. While frolicking among wildflowers and fainting near fountains, she tries to reconcile the future already planned for her with her own desires and dreams. George and Cecil pursue her. (Would you choose a George or a Cecil?) There are a lot of stodgy 1908 Brits in this novel. There are also quirky supporting characters, including two world-traveling spinster sisters, a big-hearted, blundering potential father-in-law, and a liberal-minded reverend who is probably gay. (Don’t tell the stodgy Brits.)

Middlemarch

“Middlemarch”! (It’s a study of provincial life!) This book deserves its own dissertation-length blog post. 

Is this the greatest novel in the English language ever written? George says yes. (Cecil says no.)

So much to talk about here. “Middlemarch” is the town where Dorothea, Celia, James, Mary, Will, and Tertius live. Nicholas, Edward, Rosamond, and Fred live there as well, but we don’t like them as much.

This novel has everything. Stodgy Brits. Unhappy marriages. Gambling addictions. Dark pasts. Unrequited love. Requited love. A heaping dose of meddling in other people’s affairs. Poaching. Passed-over inheritances. Blackmail. Really bad medical advice. Horseback riding accidents. Lavish spending. Heartless misers. All that and everything you ever wanted to know about the 1832 Reform Act.

My thoughts: First, Mary Garth is my favorite character, and she deserved better. Second, isn’t it weird that, over a century later, our fears about medical advancement are STILL putting lives in danger? And third … about Dorothea and Casaubon. Do you think they ever consummated their ill-fated marriage? (Like you haven’t thought about it.) Discuss.

Contemporary Fiction

The Wife by Meg Wolitzer

Joan is going to leave Joseph. And it’s not just because of the years of infidelity. Wolitzer’s tale of a marriage reaching its climactic ending is so well written that I became lost within its prose and failed to notice the surprises unfolding.

Trust Exercise by Susan Choi

This three-part novel is hard to describe. “Trust Exercise” is metafiction, and you don’t realize what’s going on (or what’s not going on) until you’re pretty far into the story. It definitely warrants a rereading, and for that reason, I’m mentioning it. You should read it so we can have meta conversations about it. 

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens

Owens has degrees in zoology and animal behavior and has written extensively about her life as a wildlife scientist in Africa. Before studying lions and hyenas, Owens explored the coastal environment of her native South Carolina, which inspired the setting and story of “Where the Crawdads Sing.” Part crime novel, part love story, part nature writing, “Where the Crawdads Sing” and its “marsh girl” will grip you from the first page.

The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy

Charleston, South Carolina, is very proud of its greatest native novelist. Like “Where the Crawdads Sing”, the lowcountry features heavily in “The Prince of Tides.” The novel is epic in scope, following a family’s inherited traumas over the course of several decades. (Think the scale of a John Irving novel crossed with Richard Russo’s sardonic wit.) It’s a long, soapy, beautiful mess of a novel. There’s a lot of crappy psychology, some racial politics, football, Nazis, a smug violinist, a mythical white porpoise, and a pet tiger. You’ll LOVE IT. (Skip the movie.)

My Absolute Darling by Gabriel Tallent

We venture from one coast to the other in “My Absolute Darling,” a tale of survival set in northern California. Taught wilderness skills by her father, Turtle is a consummate outdoorsman. She can withstand inclement weather, strong ocean tides, the horrors of high school, but she may not survive dear old dad. This novel delves into abuse in all its forms, and its graphic nature means it’s not for everyone. But it’s riveting, and the depictions of California’s rugged coast and ancient forests are sublime.

The Friend by Sigrid Nunez

This short, bittersweet novel won the National Book Award in 2018. If you like your novel with a side of plot, you’ll find this book wanting. If you believe that a good dog can heal most wounds, grab a tissue and read Nunez’s treatise on grief. (The dog does not die in this book. A friend does. I wouldn’t recommend a book about a dog dying. Come on.)

Brooklyn by Colm Toibin

You know what I NEVER want to do? Emigrate to America on a ship. 

After all of the puking, this story of an Irish girl forging a life for herself in early 1950s Brooklyn is just lovely. Toibin’s prose is sparse but imbued with warmth and authenticity, and the story is quintessentially American in the very best of ways.

Severance by Ling Ma

They’re not zombies, exactly. They’re people doomed to perform the same task over and over again until they starve to death and die. A plague has wiped out most of the population. Candace, whose Chinese parents died before the onset of the plague, has no family living in the United States. She remains in NYC until the bitter end, resolutely performing her duties at her publishing house and keeping an online photo journal of the city’s last days. Finally, she leaves and joins a band of survivors whose leader, Bob, is a bit … off. Will Candace survive the world’s last taxi drive? Will she survive the plague? Will she survive Bob? “Severance” is an imaginative twist on the modern zombie apocalypse tale, and its subtext is worthy of discussion. 

Honorable Mentions: “The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit” by MIchael Finkel; “Greenery Street” by Denis Mackail; “My Sister, the Serial Killer” by Oyinkan Braithwaite; “The Singer’s Gun” by Emily St. John Mandel; “Us” by David Nicholls; “In the Woods” by Tana French; “Women Talking” by Miriam Toews; “Normal People” by Sally Rooney; “Be Frank with Me” by Julia Claiborne Johnson; “Why We Came to the City” by Kristopher Jansma

You can see my Goodreads Year in Books here.

What were your 2019 books worth remembering?