№ 33 reading list: Keegan and COVID symptoms

I have been holding off sharing this reading list because, instead of using Instagram pics, I wanted to use my camera to photograph the books with a cup of coffee and fresh flowers, perhaps. But I haven't been in the mood. Five weeks ago, I caught a mild version of COVID. I mainly slept due to exhaustion. The worst part is that I lost my sense of taste - 5 weeks without the taste of coffee! - and all books seemed boring. Should I take back the mild-version part? Let’s look at the books on the list, as I have yet to finish only one.

№ 33 reading list:

1  Pain  · Zeruya Shalev
2  Small Things Like These  · Claire Keegan
3  Night  · Elie Wiesel
4  Nemesis  · Philip Roth
5  Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind  · Yuval Noah Harari

Translated by: 1) Pain: Sondra Silverston; 3) Night: Marion Wiesel

Claire Keegan's book, nominated this year for the Booker Prize, is a little gem set in an Irish town in 1985. It deals with a delicate subject: how the Irish Catholic Church got away with using young, pregnant girls as labour in convents and taking away their newborns after birth. Keegan says all that needs to be said, making the content of her 116 pages richer than many longer works of fiction. (I can recommend the film The Magdalene Sisters (2002; Peter Mullan), which deals with the same subject.) Another short but rich book on the list is the one by Elie Wiesel, a Holocaust survivor and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986. He shares his experience in the concentration camps, Auschwitz and Buchenwald, and the reading is often painful. For years I have avoided reading the book; until now, I lacked the courage to pick it up.

In Nemesis, Philip Roth imagines a polio epidemic in his home town Newark in 1944, threatening the lives of children. Given that we are still dealing with the COVID pandemic, I wasn’t sure this was the right time to read about an epidemic breaking out. But it was fine. The book is well written (it won the 2011 Booker International) but perhaps a little too short for my taste. In the third part, we have reached 1971, and the narrator gives only a brief account of events since the outbreak. In this part, something was missing, and the sudden ending left me needing more.

I am wary of hyped books and tend to avoid books everyone seems to be reading at a given time and referring to as must-reads. Sapiens by Israeli historian Yuval Noah Harari, translated into many languages, falls into that category. Yet, something kept pulling me, so I bought it for my son, thinking I could borrow it one day. I have now leisurely read the first part of four, and the book is promising. Harari’s approach is multidisciplinary; his writing flows easily.

Pain is a novel by the Israeli writer Zeruya Shalev

I have a strange relationship with contemporary fiction. I keep up with news from the publishing world but rarely get excited about new novels. When I’m excited, it could be the book cover enticing me. The reading often leaves me disappointed, even frustrated or impatient. I decided to read Pain by Zeruya Shalev after reading a short interview with the French-Moroccan writer Leïla Slimani, in which she praised Shalev's writing. Pain is about an Israeli woman who survived a terrorist attack ten years prior but still is dealing with the consequences. It starts well but soon becomes one of those novels that I finish only to be able to express my opinion. Shalev’s writing has plenty of decent strokes, no doubt, but let's just say that I won't be rushing to the nearest bookshop for more. That is entirely on me.

I mentioned boring books above. One of those was supposed to be on the list, In Patagonia, a travelogue classic by Bruce Chatwin, but I gave up after a few chapters. At first, I thought my all-books-seem-boring COVID symptom was why I found the book uninteresting. But as I continued the reading when no longer bedridden, the writing style did nothing for me and its short chapters, more like anecdotes than chapters, felt too disjointed for my taste. I have said before that life is too short and precious for books that don't make the reading heart beat faster.

images mine, appeared on Instagram 31/08/22 and 14/09/22

№ 27 reading list: Erpenbeck, Stepanova and Roth

In an April blog entry, I promised a new reading list after finishing the third volume of Simone de Beauvoir's autobiography. I broke that promise because shortly after I was offered an unexpected assignment. Despite being busy, I have maintained a good reading routine that begins in the very early hours with my cup of coffee: I have finished Jenny Erpenbeck's book, I'm more than halfway through both Maria Stepanova and Philip Roth's biography, and I have started the others on the list. Two years ago The Years by Annie Ernaux became one of my all-time favourites and recently when I gave a friend a copy, I knew I had to reread it.

№ 27 reading list:

1  Philip Roth: The Biography  · Blake Bailey
2  In Memory of Memory  · Maria Stepanova
3  Not a Novel: Collected Writings and Reflections  · Jenny Erpenbeck
4  The Radetzky March  · Joseph Roth
5  Heldenplatz  · Thomas Bernhard [German]
6  Himnaríki og helvíti  · Jón Kalman Stefánsson [Icelandic]
7  The Years  · Annie Ernaux [rereading]

Translated by: 2) In Memory of Memory: Sasha Dugdale; 3) Not a Novel: Kurt Beals;

4) The Radetzky March: Joachim Neugroschel; 7) The Years: Alison L. Strayer

If you follow books news you must have read about the fate of the much-anticipated biography of Philip Roth. Following sexual assault claims against its author Bailey, the publisher, W. W Norton & Company, first halted the shipping of the book and eventually pulled it (Bailey, who has not been convicted in a court of law, has already found a new publisher). I pre-ordered the book long before this happened and believe I would have ordered it anyway, as I'm fully capable of separating the art from the artist. The book is well researched and written (Roth handpicked Bailey to write it) but I do admit that my mind sometimes goes Why do I need to know this? when I come across details of Roth's sexual encounters.

Not a Novel was my first by Erpenbeck, who is one of the major contemporary novelists in Germany. It's an English translation of her non-fiction, but not a complete one: it only contains a fragment of the original, Kein Roman, which is twice as long. I enjoyed the reading but parts felt slightly repetitive and after finishing I was left with this sense of a gap. I don't believe this shorter English edition does justice to the original and once my German improves I will definitely read the latter.

The cover of Philip Roth: The Biography by the now-infamous Blake Bailey

Five years have passed since I shared my first reading list. As I select the books carefully, there have been few disappointments. On my last list was a short essay collection by Vivian Gornick that I cannot recommend: Unfinished Business: Notes of a Chronic Re-reader. The introduction appealed to me, and probably raised my expectations, but as I read on it became clear that Gornick and I are very different readers. She is character-oriented and seems very occupied with failed fictional relationships. Her approach tested my patience. A certain paradox revealed itself to me: Gornick is an active feminist but the tone of voice in these essays didn't give me the sense of a strong woman. There was one piece I liked, about the Italian writer Natalia Ginzburg, who is still on my TBR (list of to-be-reads). On that list are still a few Gornicks but honestly, I now feel little desire to prioritise them.

The COVID-19 lockdown in Austria has finally been lifted after constant extensions since last autumn. We still have to wear FFP2 masks and there are some restrictions, e.g. a negative test or a vaccination certificate is needed to enter cafés and restaurants. I got my first vaccination dose recently and get the second one in a few weeks and will then be able to get my latte fix whenever I want. That's all I ask for. Until then life continues to be rather lockdowny - I may have coined a word.

images mine, the 2nd and 3rd appeared on Instagram 22/04/21 and 15/06/21

Philip Roth: The Biography · Blake Bailey

We are heading for a Roth spring. In April, Philip Roth: The Biography by Blake Bailey arrives in bookshops, published by W. W. Norton & Co. I have waited for this official biography for years, ever since I watched Philip Roth Unleashed (2014), a documentary in two parts, part of the BBC series Imagine. Bailey was one of many interviewees and talked about the writing; Roth chose him specifically for the task and gave Bailey all the papers he needed. Last summer when the cover was released, I couldn't contain my excitement: it meant the wait was getting shorter.

Cover photo: Bob Peterson, 1968

Philip Roth: The Biography
By Blake Bailey
Hardback, 880 pages
ISBN: 9780393240726
W. W. Norton & Company

№ 19 reading list: a debut novel

Look at me, managing to share a reading list in February! I'm particularly excited about one book on the list, The Parisian, a debut novel by young author Isabella Hammad. It's a spring release from publisher Jonathan Cape and let me tell you, the first chapters are promising. Moving on to another Black History Month: since 1976 it has been celebrated in the US in February and I'm showing my support with If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin. The Brits celebrate it in October and Baldwin was also on the reading list I shared then (№ 16). He's a favourite of mine. The film by director Barry Jenkins based on the novel has hardly escaped Baldwin fans. He got an Oscar nomination for the screenplay and Regina King for supporting role. Tomorrow we will know if they won.

№ 19 reading list:
1  The Parisian  by Isabella Hammad
2  Orientalism  by Edward W. Said
3  If Beale Street Could Talk  by James Baldwin
4  The Ghost Writer  by Philip Roth
5  Women and Writing  by Virginia Woolf

London-born Isabella Hammad won the 2018 Plimpton Prize for Fiction, for the short story Mr. Can'aan, featured in the literary magazine The Paris Review. April sees the release of her first novel, The Parisian. The lovely people at publisher Jonathan Cape (an imprint of Vintage) sent me a proof copy of this historical fiction. The following description is from the press release: 'As the First World War shatters families, destroys friendships and kills lovers, a young Palestinian dreamer sets out to find himself.' The dreamer is Midhat Kamal, an Arab we meet on the first page: He's aboard a ship taking him from the port of Alexandria to Marseille, where he arrives in October 1914.

Author Zadie Smith highly praises The Parisian in a blurb on the back cover, describing it as 'a sublime reading experience: delicate, restrained, surpassingly intelligent, uncommonly poised and truly beautiful' and further adding:

It is realism in the tradition of Flaubert and Stendhal - everything that happens feels not so much imagined as ordained. That this remarkable historical epic should be the debut of a writer in her twenties seems impossible, yet it's true. Isabella Hammad is an enormous talent and her book is a wonder.

The Parisian
By Isabella Hammad
Jonathan Cape
Hardcover, 576 pages
Buy here


My last reading list was Japanese and naturally these past weeks have been characterised by Japanese culture. Peonies do not bloom until spring/summer, yet I'm going to end with this piece of art by Hokusai and give Japanese literature a rest, for now.

Katsushika Hokusai, Canary and peony, 1834, Guimet Museum, Paris via WikiArt

№ 16 reading list | Black History Month (UK)

Libraries are my happy place. Or so I thought. Last week I was at the library with a notebook, in which I have written down some of the titles I would like to read. As you can imagine, on my way there I was like a little kid going to Disneyland. As I walked up the stairs and entered the floor of the humanities (this is the university library, it's big), I was in a state of bliss, walking between the rows of bookshelves. Browsing books, touching books. Removing books from the reading list I already had in my mind to make space for books that demanded to be on it. Putting books back on the list to perhaps remove them again. Normal library behaviour.

Then something happened, something I was not prepared for: I experienced a moment of panic. For a few seconds, as I stood by the first row of shelves of American fiction, it suddenly dawned on me how many books there were on that floor, on all those shelves: In this lifetime I would never be able to finish my to-read list, which keeps getting longer. I cannot be the only book lover who has experienced this fear. No way. There better be an afterlife, with a library that has all your unread titles just waiting for you. There better be.

№ 16 reading list:
1  Blue Nights  by Joan Didion
2  Go Tell It on the Mountain  by James Baldwin
3  Sing, Unburied, Sing  by Jesmyn Ward
4  The Human Stain  by Philip Roth
5  Stet  by Diana Athill
6  Train Dreams  by Denis Johnson
7  The Bookshop  by Penelope Fitzgerald
8  Do Not Say We Have Nothing  by Madeleine Thien
9  The Collected Essays of Elizabeth Hardwick  ed. by D. Pinckney

On Saturday - you may have seen it on Instagram already - I read Didion's memoir Blue Nights in one go. She wrote the book after the death of her daughter Quintana, who was only 39 when she died. (She wrote The Year of Magical Thinking after the death of her husband, author John Gregory Dunne.) I liked Blue Nights. It's not a sob story that makes you reach for the tissue. Didion's style isn't emotionally overloaded. She is just trying to make sense of it all. Trying to find answers to questions that cannot be answered.

October is Black History Month in the UK (February in the US). I'm showing my support with two novels on the list, by James Baldwin and Jesmyn Ward. She won The National Book Award 2017 for Sing, Unburied, Sing. It was her second win; in 2011 she won for Salvage the Bones.