Books 1-10.
Books 11-20.
Books 21-30.
31. Solitaire by Kelley Eskridge.
32. Those Who Walk Away by Patricia Highsmith.
33. The History of the Danes (Gesta Danorum) by Saxo Grammaticus, translation by Peter Fisher, edited by Peter Fisher and Hilda Ellis Davidson.
34. Tehanu by Ursula K. Le Guin.
35. Edge of Our Lives by Mark Rich.
36. My Mother Gets Married (Mor gifter sig) by Moa Martinson, translated by Margaret S. Lacy.
37. Edinburgh by Alexander Chee. I sometimes dislike lyrical prose, but this is not one of those times. It's difficult subject matter; the narrator, Fee, is one of eighteen young boys molested by their choir director, and forever after he blames himself for not having spoken up. The book is about his survival, sort of, but it's also about the damage done. Chee's prose is relatively spare--the book clocks in at just over 200 pages--but the imagery in them makes the book seem much larger than it is. When I finished it and shut it I had to sit for a moment, marveling that so much could fit into so small a space. Two motifs recur through this desperately sad and lovely book--one is swimming, and the other is song. Reading the book is, I think, something like swimming through a song.
Books 11-20.
Books 21-30.
31. Solitaire by Kelley Eskridge.
32. Those Who Walk Away by Patricia Highsmith.
33. The History of the Danes (Gesta Danorum) by Saxo Grammaticus, translation by Peter Fisher, edited by Peter Fisher and Hilda Ellis Davidson.
34. Tehanu by Ursula K. Le Guin.
35. Edge of Our Lives by Mark Rich.
36. My Mother Gets Married (Mor gifter sig) by Moa Martinson, translated by Margaret S. Lacy.
37. Edinburgh by Alexander Chee. I sometimes dislike lyrical prose, but this is not one of those times. It's difficult subject matter; the narrator, Fee, is one of eighteen young boys molested by their choir director, and forever after he blames himself for not having spoken up. The book is about his survival, sort of, but it's also about the damage done. Chee's prose is relatively spare--the book clocks in at just over 200 pages--but the imagery in them makes the book seem much larger than it is. When I finished it and shut it I had to sit for a moment, marveling that so much could fit into so small a space. Two motifs recur through this desperately sad and lovely book--one is swimming, and the other is song. Reading the book is, I think, something like swimming through a song.