![]() ![]() Deservedly on many best-of lists this year ![]() Small talk has never been so excruciating. MY PHANTOMS by Gwendoline Riley, which is a lacerating examination of a woman’s relationship with her mother. MY FIRST THIRTY YEARS by Gertrude Beasley, a mild-alteringly angry and inspirational memoir about overcoming poverty and the patriachy (before they catch up with you and throw you in an insane asylum) To my surprise I also read a large majority of female writers (43 of the 69), and for the first time ever a big chunk was memoir or non-fiction. Greenland in the 1950s? Italy in the 1250s? Ohio in the opiod crisis? Stockholm in the middle of someone’s insane crush? I counted up and 15 countries are represented. I like looking at the pictures, which remind me where I have been physically, but even more looking at the titles, which remind me of where I have been not-physically. It makes me feel like whatever else has been going on, at least I have not been totally wasting my time. Every year I enjoy this last post of the year, where I tot up everything I’ve read. ![]()
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