Reading highlights for 2023

/ whisperinggums

With the year’s end, we come to annual highlights posts – my reading highlights post which I like to do on December 31, and my blogging highlights one on January 1. I do my Reading Highlights on the last day of the year, so I will have read (even if not reviewed) all the books I’m going to read in the year. I call it “highlights” because, as many of you will know, I don’t do a list of “best” or even, really, “favourite” books. Instead, I try to capture a picture of what my reading year looked like. I also include literary highlights, that is, reading-related activities which enhance my reading interests and knowledge.

Literary highlights

I got to a few literary events over the year, though by no means all I would have liked to. I was disappointed, though, to not get to any of this year’s Sydney Writers Festival: Live and Local events, partly because of my busy-ness but partly because I didn’t realise until too late that our usual venue had changed this year and I couldn’t seem to make the new multiple venues work in with my commitments.

Reading highlights

As I’ve said before, I don’t have specific reading goals, just some “rules of thumb”. These include reading women writers, reading more First Nations authors, reading some non-anglo literature, and reducing the TBR pile. In recent years, I haven’t made major inroads into any of these but … here’s the thing …

Last year I foreshadowed that this year could be a tricky one with our major downsizing project (along with regular trips to Melbourne) – and so it turned out to be. Decluttering and preparing our house for sale took until July, with our house being sold in mid-August. This was followed by a long settlement which saw us having to maintain the house and garden until early November. It’s been a truly long haul, but we got there. It’s just as well I love short stories because they are ideal for busy, distracted times, and as it turned out, they ended up forming a much larger percentage of my reading diet this year. And, a goodly proportion of that ended up being stories by First Nations authors. Not only did I read more First Nations authors than usual but I read more diversely I read several First Nations American authors, and I read some First Nations Australian speculative fiction – all in short story form.

Each year I present my highlights a bit differently, choosing approaches that I hope will capture the flavour and breadth my reading year. Here are this year’s observations which I hope might entertain, and maybe even enlighten, you. I start by focusing on works/writers/writing, and end with characters (mostly):

  • Great finds: A three-way tie between two (older) American works and one (more contemporary) French novel – African-American writer Gwendolyn Brooks’ wonderfully warm but pointed novella Maud Martha; American writer Susan Glaspell’s short story, “A jury of her peers”; and French Nobel prize-winner Patrick Modiano’s novel, Sundays in August.
  • Dearest to a librarian’s heart: Anthony Doerr’s Cloud cuckoo land made the librarians in my reading group cheer (as would “Special collections” in Rebecca Campbell’s Arboreaility, had they read it. Review to come, but here is Bill’s)
  • Most surprising speculative fiction: A bit of a misnomer because, almost by definition, speculative fiction is surprising, but the first work I read this year, Ambelin Kwaymullina’s short story, “Fifteen days on Mars“, was not only a great read but surprised me by being my most successful post written this year.
  • Most mystifying book: JD Vance’s Hillbilly elegy. How can someone with such a story end up aligning with you-know-who?
  • Truthtellers of the year: Many writers increased my understanding and thinking about First Nations’ issues this year but I’ll share two, First Nations Australian writer Debra Dank in We come with this place, and my (non-Indigenous) brother Ian Terry with his book and exhibition Uninnocent landscapes.
  • Weirdest voices: I love writers who can pull off writing from unusual or surprising perspectives, and I read two experts this year, both through their short story collections – Carmel Bird’s Love letter to Lola, and Chris Flynn’s Here be Leviathans. I love how these writers can use fresh voices to grapple with meaningful-to-me issues, including but not limited to climate change and the ecology.
  • Strongest women: There were many women in my reading diet this year who managed to steer a way through the patriarchal societies they found themselves in, but I’ll name three standouts, Briseis in Pat Barker’s retelling The women of Troy, Lucrezia de’ Medici in Maggie O’Farrell’s The marriage portrait, and Elizabeth Zott in Bonnie Garmus’ Lessons in chemistry.
  • Most challenged mother: Parenting is hard, so who am I to criticise, but patriarchy can make the lives of mothers particularly hard. There were several challenged mothers in my reading this year, such as Frankie’s mother in Rebecca Burton’s Ravenous girls, but the one who struggled most was poor Veda Grey in Edwina Preston’s Bad art mother.
  • Sweetest man: Most men are decent, and Ned in Robbie Arnott’s Limberlost, is one such, but there were some close runners-up, including Will in Eleanor Limprecht’s The coast.
  • Most clueless man: Cathal in Claire Keegan’s short story “So late in the day“.
  • Best neighbours: The quiet women in Susan Glaspell’s above-mentioned story mentioned have to be the winners here, but runners up are the neighbours in Holly Throsby’s Clarke. Gossipy yes, but when the chips are down they are there for you.
  • Most interesting sportspeople: The Tucson basketballers in Jack D. Forbes’ story “Only approved Indians can play made in USA” showed up their northern opponents by being able to speak their own language, but young pedestrian-cum-jockey, Johnny, in Robert Drewe’s Nimblefoot captured my heart.
  • Best trees: There is a beautiful old cottonwood tree in Leslie Marmon Silko’s story “The man to send rain clouds“, which took me back to my days America’s southwest, and Tasmania’s gorgeous huon pine features in Robbie Arnott’s Limberlost, but the trees that brought home humanity’s impact on the land won me over – in Ian Terry’s Uninnocent landscapes (colonialism), and Rebecca Campbell’s Arboreality (climate change)

Each of these books … is a door, a gateway to another place and time. (Anthony Doerr, Cloud Cuckoo Land, p. 216)

These are just some of 2023’s highlights in a very strange but, because of that, quite wonderful year of reading … I’m just sorry I can’t list them all.

Some stats …

I don’t read to achieve specific stats but, as I’ve already mentioned, I do have some reading preferences which I like to track. However, this year was so whacky in terms of those preferences, that I’m not even going to bother sharing them, except to reiterate two big positives to come out of the whackiness:

  • I read more short stories and novellas than usual (and I usually read a good number): over 60% of this year’s reading (as individual stories, collections, anthologies, and linked short stories)
  • I read more First Nations writers than usual (largely because I read several short stories by First Nations American writers): 30%

Sometimes strange years have silver linings.

Tomorrow, I will post my blogging highlights.

Meanwhile, a huge thanks to all of you who read my posts, engage in discussion, recommend more books and, most importantly, keep me on my toes. Our little community is special, to me! I wish you all an excellent 2024, and thank you so much for hanging in this year.

What were your 2023 reading or literary highlights?

37 thoughts on “Reading highlights for 2023”

  1. What a great post! I like how you have all the different categories, such as Most Clueless Man. LOL I’m going to go back through and click on some of the specific links that catch my eye.

    Reply

  2. You’ve been amazing, Sue, the way you’ve managed to keep going with your MMs and reviews and reports of author talks and festivals. Let’s hope 2024 turns out to be less stressful for you!

    Reply

  4. Great post and it comes at a moment today…when I am still searching for my reading direction in 2024! I will keep your reading post as an inspiration. Hopefully I’ll make some reading decisions before midnight! Gelukkig Nieuwjaar 2024!

    Reply

      • I’ve just watched Australia welcome the new year….wanted to celebrate it with a prosecco but decided to just do a tonic with lime. Need to pace myself today when it comes to “bubbles”. Now the hard part…glasses on, in front of the bookcase and time to make choices.

        Reply

        • Haha, Nancy … we celebrated, shock horror, with a zero alcohol prosecco. It wasn’t bad as zero-alcohol drinks go. Pacing myself too after more drinking than usual over the last week.

  6. I’m glad Arboreality got into highlights, it’s a really interesting book. I don’t have the recall to fit any of my reading to your categories, so let’s just say We (1924) by Yevgeny Zamyatin for both Great find and Most surprising SF.

    Reply

    • Thanks Bill .. the categories are intended to be idiosyncratic to my year’s reading – though I guess “great finds” are hopefully part of all of our reading years. “We” sounds a pretty impressive find.

      Reply

  7. I love the categories you’ve come up with this year Sue and I admire the effort that has gone into making these last 2 posts. I decided I didn’t have the energy or brain power to do my usual ones this year – here’s hoping 2024 is a calmer year for all of us, with more reading time 🙂

    Reply

  8. I really like your best of but don’t remember seeing it in past years! I’ll bet it took a moment to sit and think through who would fit sweetest man, etc. It’s almost a way of creating your own highlights reel, like in film. Selling the house did create an interesting year of reading for you, and I noticed it in more short story reviews. Short stories don’t get enough love, and short story connection reviews all sound the same: “it was a mixed bag, and here are a couple favorites…” I wonder why we don’t just review specific stories more often.

    Reply

    • Oh, I’ve been doing reading highlights for years Melanie but with slightly different headings, some years more inspired than others! I’m not sure it really took a long time to think through who was the sweetest men etc. Rather, they sort of jumped out and said, “make me a category!” And so I did. Does that make sense?

      You are right about reviews of collections – they are always a challenge and end up being some version of that. I have always done some individual story reviews but this year I did a LOT. The thing about them I find is that while the stories are faster to read, that doesn’t follow through in writing the reviews. They can take similar time as reviews for a novel can take – at least for me. But I’m going to try to continue to do more because as you also say, they deserve it.

      Reply

  9. What a great read, WG! I enjoyed travelling through your reading year in this fashion. And it’s so interesting to know that your “restrictions”, in terms of what the year held for you, ended up being opportunities instead. With 30% of your authors of short stories Indigenous too. Unanticipated pleasures in the mix of all your packing, unpacking, and stressing.

    Reply

  10. Excellent categories!

    I’m going to buy We Come With This Place as soon as my birthday is past – looks like we can get it here so I’ll order it through our local bookshop. That and Public Art in Birmingham are top of my wishlist at the moment.

    I hope you have a more settled year and a good reading year as a result!

    Reply

Leave a comment