Top fiction, et al, from 2010

Award Symbol

No. 1!

Well, 2010 is officially over so I reckon I can now safely present my top fiction of the year! As I listed my top Aussie reads in my last Monday musings post, this post will exclude Aussie writers. Partly for this reason, I’m not going to list the usual 5 or 10 here, but just those that rose to the top. What does it matter after all whether I list 7 or 10 or 13? The world will, in fact, still go round!

My top non-Aussie fiction of the year

In alphabetical order (with the title linked to my review):

  • Jorge Amado‘s Gabriela, clove and cinnamon. I  didn’t read a lot of non-English writers this year but this was one of them. Larger than life, and very colourful, it introduced me to a period of Brazilian history I knew little about and an author I’d like to read more.
  • John Banville‘s The infinities. I like Banville’s writing – this is my second of his. I particularly liked the somewhat tongue-in-cheek tone of this one.
  • MJ Hyland’s This is how. This is cheeky I know as I also listed it in my aforementioned Australian Top Fiction list. She really isn’t Australian, so I reserve the right to list her here too!
  • Hilary Mantel‘s Wolf Hall. One of my first reads of the year – and it got me off to a good start. I look forward to reading more Mantel in future, probably, the way I’m going, the sequel to this one.
  • David Mitchell’s The thousand autumns of Jacob de Zoet. This is probably the most controversial of my top reads for the year but I remain unapologetic about it. It wasn’t perfect but it was a thoroughly engaging read in a style that “mixed it up a bit”.
  • Haruki Murakami‘s Blind willow, sleeping woman. What can I say? I’ve scarcely met a Murakami I haven’t liked and this collection of short stories was no exception.

Some miscellaneous other “tops” of the year

  • The standout film for me this year was Animal Kingdom – but I did also thoroughly enjoy The King’s English which we saw just a couple of days ago.
  • My top short stories (excluding collections) were an older one, Kate Chopin’s Desirée’s baby, and a modern one, Nicole Krauss‘s The young painters.
  • The most intriguing piece of non-fiction writing I read this year was Alan Bennett’s The lady in the van.

So, that’s it. There were other tops of the year but, to take the advice of the immortal Mr Bennet, I have delighted you long enough and will now give you time to tell me your own favourites. But, before we get to that, I wish you all

a very happy 2011, full of brilliant books and delightful discussion (not to mention, of course, health, wealth and happiness!)

I thank you all for popping by my blog this year, and I particularly thank those of you who have taken the time to comment. I treasure every one of you and look forward to more interactions in 2011.

Now, your favourites?

Monday musings on Australian literature: My top Australian reads of 2010

Eva Hornung, Dogboy

Dog Boy: Winner of 2010 Prime Minister's Literary Award (Courtesy: Text Publishing)

In last week’s Monday musings I said that this series would resume in the New Year. But then the thought occurred to me: this is an Australian focused litblog, so why don’t I divide my top reads of the year into those by Australian writers, and the rest? That decision made, it seemed logical to devote the last Monday musings of the year to my top Australian reads, so – surprise – here I am again.

I never read as many books in a year as I would like to, but this year I did manage to read a range of Australian writers, including some older works I’ve been wanting to get to. I hope to achieve similarly in 2011. You never know, 2011 might be the year I finally read Christina Stead.

I’ll list the books in alphabetical order under categories (some being very short categories as we are talking top reads here).

Top recent (post 2000) fiction:

  • Eva Hornung‘s Dog Boy: Won this year’s Prime Minister’s Literary Award. It’s a visceral read which contemplates the nature of humanity.
  • MJ Hyland‘s This is how. I’m not really sure that we can claim Hyland as Australian. She wasn’t born here, and she no longer lives here. She did however do some secondary and tertiary education here. This is the sort of writing I love. The writing is tight, the tone is beautifully controlled, and the central character is so complex that even by the end you are not completely sure who you have before you.
  • David Malouf‘s Ransom: Although I had some reservations about this book in terms of its point, I did love it nonetheless. Does that make sense? Malouf’s writing is beautiful, and I love his humanity. I guess that should be enough, eh?

Two other recent Australian novels I enjoyed this year were Alex Miller‘s Lovesong and Peter Carey‘s Parrot and Olivier in America.

Top older (pre 2000) fiction:

  • Thea Astley‘s: The multiple effects of rainshadow. A re-read. I love Astley’s “imagistic” writing. This is a multiple point-of-view novel set in early 20th century northern Queensland, and deals with the emotional and social consequences of living in a difficult place at a difficult time.
  • Martin Boyd‘s A difficult young man. Part of his semi-autobiographical trilogy, this book explores the challenges of living an artistic life, of being a different person in an extraordinary family in an ordinary world. Martin Boyd is a member of one of Australia’s leading creative families.
  • Katharine Susannah Prichard‘s The pioneers. Won the Hodder and Stoughton All Empire Literature Prize for Australasia in 1915. It’s an historical novel exploring pioneer Australia, particularly in relation to our convict heritage, but I’ll say more in the coming review.

Three other older Australian novels I particularly enjoyed this year were Kate JenningsSnake, Hanz Bergner’s Between sky and sea, and Ruth Park’s Missus.

Top short stories

Regular readers of this blog know that I enjoy short stories and try to include them in my regular reading schedule. Mostly, I read one-offs, but I also enjoy collections. I only read one collection of Australian short stories this year, but it was excellent and so easily qualifies for a top read:

  • Gretchen Shirm’s Having cried wolf. Shirm is a new Australian voice. I was impressed by the tight, controlled writing she demonstrated in this set of connected stories. I hope we see more of her.

Top non-fiction

As this is primarily a litblog, I don’t read a lot of non-fiction, but there were two standouts this year:

  • Kate Jennings’ Trouble: The evolution of a radical. This is the memoir you write when you are not writing a memoir. Jennings tells her story through thematically grouped writings from her past, each group introduced by current commentary. I loved her honesty and provocativeness.
  • Anna Krien’s Into the woods. A history – exposé really – of Tasmania’s logging history. Krien may not have been as objective as she set out to be, but the book is an insightful read nonetheless.

I am reading another Australian book at present, but I don’t expect it to quite qualify for this list – and, anyhow, this is the last Monday of the year so there you have it…

I’d love to know what your favourite Australian reads of the year were – or, if you didn’t read any, whether my list above has inspired you to read any next year!

ABR’s Favourite Australian Novel poll

Back in October I wrote about the Australian Book Review’s poll to find our favourite Australian novel (not Australia’s favourite novel!). Well, the result has just lobbed into my email inbox: it’s an interesting list. No great surprises, and it’s certainly pretty acceptable even though one can always find something to argue about when the opportunity arises.

Here they are:

  1. Cloudstreet, by Tim Winton (since members of the Australian Society of Authors voted this their top novel in 2003, it’s not a totally surprising win – and I’m happy enough with it!)
  2. The fortunes of Richard Mahony, by Henry Handel Richardson (the oldest in the top ten – and great to see a woman in second spot!)
  3. Voss, by Patrick White (woo hoo … this was my well-considered vote!!)
  4. Breath, by Tim Winton (another guernsey for the popular Tim – and perhaps its ranking here is largely due to its still being fresh in people’s minds? You know, along the lines of how well Harry Potter has done in recent readers’ polls. I’m not saying this is a bad choice but … currency often does come into play in these polls doesn’t it?)
  5. Oscar and Lucinda, by Peter Carey (this would have been a serious contender for my second choice if I’d had one, because I think it is often overlooked in discussions like this)
  6. My brother Jack, by George Johnston
  7. The secret river, by Kate Grenville (a riveting read that gets to the heart of our origins as a convict settlement and so good to see here)
  8. Eucalyptus, by Murray Bail (great to see this beautiful fable-like tale appearing in the top 10)
  9. The man who loved children, by Christina Stead
  10. The tree of man, by Patrick White (another worthy choice I think … though after Voss it is hard to choose which White should come next!)

In the link I’ve provided above, you will find the next 10, and here is a link to the complete list. Apparently 290 were nominated, and thousands (nothing more specific than that) voted.

And, before I close, some basic stats. Ten novels:

  • 8 authors;
  • 3 women;
  • no indigenous author (but Alexis Wright does appear in the top 20);
  • all published after 1900 (but a couple of earlier ones appear in the top 20); and
  • I have read only 7, of which I am a little ashamed (but I have seen one of the others as a miniseries – does that count? – and the remaining two are in my TBR, one physical, one virtual).

Top 12 fiction of 2009

I think, pedant that I am, I can now post my Top 12 fiction books of the year, since the book I’m currently reading (interesting though it is) won’t be on it, and I won’t be finishing another one before January 1 comes around. I am listing 12 because Tom at A Common Reader said I could! Picking 12 is about as subjective as I’m going to get and so I am going to list them in the order I read them rather than in any further order of quality:

Sleeping Reader

Why I didn't read enough classics (Courtesy: OCAL via clker.com)

There are some interesting (to me, anyhow) observations to make about this list:

  • two are short story collections;
  • six (ie half) are by Australian authors;
  • only 3 are by women authors;
  • three are works in translation by European (that includes Turkish!) authors;
  • two thirds were published this century; and
  • there are no classics (not because none made it to the Top 12 but because for some rather odd reason I didn’t read any this year – well, except for Maria Edgeworth’s delightful little novella, Castle Rackrent, which nearly made this list)

Like most statistics, these only tell part of the truth. They show my increasing interest in short stories (collections and individual), my continued commitment to Australian literature, and my desire to extend beyond anglo-literature. They don’t show, however, my longstanding commitment to reading works by women and my love of “the classics” (however you define that term). Maybe my 2010 resolution – cos I do like, for fun, to make one – will be to redress this imbalance!

Library for a fiver!

In May 1940, Professor Walter Murdoch (of the University of Western Australia) wrote three articles in The ABC Weekly arguing that, with £5, you could give yourself “a liberal education in so far as books can give it”. It takes three articles for him to list and justify his selections which are grouped under categories: Fiction, History, Philosophy, Poetry and Drama, Biography, and Sociology. For brevity’s same, I’m just going to list the fiction here:

Notice anything strange? There are no women writers, and there are no Australian writers. In fact they are all British and European writers. Signs of the times I suppose!

But wait, he has a supplementary list for “the judicious bargain-hunter” who is able to extend his/her fiver by buying second hand. The fiction in this supplementary list comprises:

  • Pendennis and The Newcomes, by William Makepeace Thackerary
  • Old mortality and The heart of Midlothian, by Walter Scott
  • Les miserables, by Victor Hugo
  • Crime and punishment, by Fyodor Dostoievsky
  • Pride and prejudice, by Jane Austen
  • Barchester Towers, by Anthony Trollope

Aha, a woman at last – and the right one too! As for references to Australia, there are none in the main lists, but the supplementary list includes Ernest Scott’s Short history of Australia.

Anyhow, while a modern compilation of books suited to a liberal education might be quite different to this, it is nonetheless interesting to see that most of the books he lists are still well-regarded today. It is also interesting to hear his criteria for choosing – he says he is not going to focus solely on “hoary old classics”:

People say that it’s only after a writer has been dead a number  of years that we can tell whether he is a great or a small man; and the same with books – you have to see it from a distance before you can say whether it’s a good book or not.

Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that men who are trying to climb Mount Everest don’t really know it’s a high mountain: they have to get away and look at it from a distance to get a sense of its real size? I don’t believe a word of it.

So, the books I am going to name for your consideration are not all classics, in the sense of being old. On the other hand, they’re not books conspicuous as bestsellers at the moment…

The Mount Everest analogy seems a bit odd really, and none of the novels listed were published after 1900, but I applaud his thinking. We should indeed be able to say now what a good book is – even if we can’t second guess which ones will last into the future. Has anyone read Pendennis or The ordeal of Richard Feverel?