Here we are again at the start of another year – is it just me or is time speeding up post-pandemic?
One thing that isn’t speeding up is my reading pace; once more, I haven’t got through anywhere near as many books as last year! I suppose it was bound to happen now that socialising is back to pre-COVID levels – it feels like I have more commitments than ever before.
Still, I’ve read some absolute bangers in 2023. A big chunk of my reads have been music-related, mainly because my current novel-in-progress is also musically themed. And I got through the entire works of R F (Rebecca) Kuang this year, too – and thoroughly enjoyed them.
Here are my highlights, divided into the same three categories as last year: novels and novellas, short stories and anthologies, and non-fiction. Links go to Bookshop.org for most titles, as well as direct to indie publisher websites for others. As usual, I don’t get any commission if you buy books using these links. And please don’t forget to support your local library if you’d rather borrow than buy!
Novels and novellas
Elena Knows by Claudia Piñeiro
A gripping, heartbreaking novella told from the perspective of Elena, a 65-year-old Argentinean woman with Parkinson’s whose daughter and carer, Rita, has recently died of hanging in the belfry of a local church. The police and coroner have deemed it a suicide but Elena isn’t so sure, convinced that she knows her daughter well enough to know she’d never do such a thing. The story takes place over a day in which Elena makes a journey to see a woman who might be able to help her investigate the death for herself.
I absolutely loved this book – I couldn’t put it down! Elena is such a singular, memorable character who is forced to define herself by her disabling “whore illness” yet has a stubbornness that propels her to make the wearying journey across Buenos Aires. The account is interspersed with flashbacks that tell us more about the complex relationship between mother and daughter, as well as the circumstances leading up to her death. At the end, when Elena finally gets to her destination, there’s another series of flashbacks that, together with the present-day narrative, pull together the core themes of bodily autonomy, patriarchy and parental identity.
Above all, for me Elena Knows is a wonderful depiction of the reality of living with a disability, and how physical disabilities make others overlook the person inside the suffering body. Everything about the story is just so brilliantly done and it’s probably the best book I read in 2023!
After Atlas by Emma Newman
After Atlas is a follow-up to the excellent Planetfall, which I read and loved a couple of years ago. It’s set on Earth in an uber-capitalist AI-filled dystopian near future that is easily imaginable from the vantage point of 2023. We follow MoJ detective Carlo, who is serving out a contract as an indentured slave after being trained as a highly skilled ‘asset’ following a troubled youth. At 16, he left The Circle, a cult founded by Alejandro Casales who, like Carlo, was left behind by the crew of the colony ship the Atlas when it left Earth to find God nearly 40 years previously.
Now living a precarious life at the beck and call of the gov-corp justice department in London, Carlo is assigned to investigate the apparent grisly murder of Alejandro at a hotel in Devon. The story is very much a detective/police procedural for around two-thirds of the book, then turns into something altogether different when Carlo has the chance to make a real choice of his own for the first time in his life.
Reader, I loved this book – I was completely gripped from start to finish! Carlo is an incredibly compelling character despite his apparent dispassionate demeanour when investigating for the MoJ – when you find out the awful details of how he got to the MoJ, you can’t help but root for him even more. I loved his yearning for real versus printed food, and for a freedom in which he can live life on his own terms. The various plot twists in the run-up to the climax honestly left me almost breathless with anxiety for how it would all turn out for him.
Woman on the Edge of Time by Marge Piercy
An excellent and perhaps depressing novel that presents dystopia and utopia side by side, drawing on the realities of life in a patriarchal, capitalist society in the 1970s to spin a picture of what a better society might look like – as well as a glimpse of how things might get even worse.
Connie, our protagonist, is a middle-aged woman down on her luck who ends up in a mental institution after a false accusation of violent behaviour by her niece’s pimp. She is selected for a mind control experiment dressed up as therapy, but what the doctors don’t know is that Connie has the ability to travel forward in time with the help of a future-dwelling woman called Luciente. Through Connie’s visits, we see how our society could become the utopia in which Luciente lives.
Reading this in the present age, it’s quite dismaying how little society seems to have progressed since Connie’s reality. Yet it was wonderful to read about a utopian world in which nature, found family and art are prioritised over profit, hoarding and mass destruction. I enjoyed Connie’s visits to the future, even if a lot of those scenes were written purely to show us how that world works; I didn’t feel that I suffered from the lack of plot. The reality in which Connie tries to escape the mental institution offered plenty of plot for me, down to the final twist. I don’t think I’ll forget this novel in a hurry.
Big Girl by Mecca Jamilah Sullivan
A coming of age story set in 90s Harlem that opens with 8-year-old Malaya, an overweight Black girl, at a Weight Watchers meeting with her mother. The story lingers on this period of her life for the first third of the book, showing how Malaya is a talented artist brushing up against others’ expectations of how she should be – not least those of her mother and grandmother, who are extremely fixated on their own and others’ weight.
The book then fast forwards to her teen years, when she seems maturer in some ways, but still childlike in others. However, it takes a family tragedy to propel her into a profound realisation of who she could actually be.
I absolutely loved this novel – the writing is beautiful and paints such a tender but truthful portrait of Malaya’s quest to learn how a woman should be. Touching not only on art and body image, but also sexuality, hip hop and gentrification, Big Girl deftly steps from theme to theme to portray a full, vivid account of Malaya’s coming of age journey. I have been overweight for most of my life, and have been on the WW merry-go-round myself (although not with my mum!!), and it’s the mental battle that can be the worst of all – one that Sullivan shows so well.
Yellowface by Rebecca F Kuang
A compelling, spot-on satire following struggling white author June Hayward as she tries to pass off her dead friend Athena’s manuscript for a historical novel drawing on Chinese history as her own… with unexpected consequences. The story takes us from the scene of Athena’s unexpected death to June’s discovery of her work-in-progress and the excitement when she submits it as her own work, through to June’s increasing discomfort over what she’s done – and her attempts to keep it a secret.
There’s been a lot of hype around this book, but it’s all justified, in my opinion! It’s a brilliant story that skewers some of the most distasteful elements of the publishing industry and associated social media dramas, and the obliviousness of a certain type of white author to the issues faced by global majority writers struggling with unspoken quotas, gatekeeping and pigeonholing.
I raced through much of this in a day – it’s thoroughly enjoyable and absolutely gripping!
Mayflies by Andrew O’Hagan
I picked up Mayflies because I couldn’t resist the Manchester setting of the first half of the book, and the many wonderful references to the post-punk, new wave and indie music of the 80s. And the novel certainly delivered on this front, managing to capture the spirit of a group of teenagers for whom music is everything and saying many brilliant things about the experience of seeing your favourite bands play live alongside people who love the music as much as you do. There were also several moments where I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
As we enter the second half, the novel goes beyond an account of youthful excess to paint a gorgeous, heart-rending picture of a lifelong friendship between two men that literally becomes a matter of life of death as they enter their fifties. It’s an altogether different pace to the first half, but just as absorbing; it soon becomes apparent why the first half focuses on what becomes a legendary weekend in Manchester.
Mayflies is a lovely, funny, and heartachingly beautiful tribute to the power of friendship and music that I won’t be able to forget any time soon.
The Handsworth Times by Sharon Duggal
The Handsworth Times follows a British Asian family living in a suburb of Birmingham in the early 80s. The family suffers a terrible tragedy at the start of the story that they all grapple with in different ways – while also dealing with issues such as a dwindling income, addiction, assault and the rise of the National Front.
I absolutely loved this novel! The characters are so well drawn and it was such a pleasure in particular to read about British Asian teenagers doing the things that typical teenagers do – it’s not all arranged marriages and super strict parents. Each member of the family is struggling with their own problems, to which there seem to be few neat solutions, and the author does such a good job of delving into their minds while also painting a picture of life in a downtrodden suburb in Thatcher’s Britain.
This novel very much resonated with me as a daughter of working class Indian immigrants who grew up in Bolton in the 80s and 90s. I can’t recommend this novel enough to other first and second-generation immigrants who want to see themselves honestly represented in literature.
The Half Life of Valery K by Natasha Pulley
A superb character-driven historical mystery/thriller based on real-life events at a highly irradiated location in the Soviet Union in the 1950s and 1960s.
Valery is a traumatised scientist and gulag prisoner who is suddenly transferred to a nuclear facility, where he must work for the government as part of his sentence. It soon becomes apparent that something is seriously off at the facility, and Valery slowly uncovers the truth with the help of a local KGB head. As the story unfolds, we discover not only the secret of the facility, but also the truth about Valery’s past.
I absolutely loved this book, and read it very quickly for me these days! Natasha Pulley is an excellent storyteller, and her characters feel so true to life despite the strangeness of their situation. I enjoyed the writing style very much – it has the warmth of Terry Pratchett and the simple elegance of the likes of Anthony Doerr and Philip Pullman. I’m excited to read her other books and whatever else she writes in future.
Fingersmith by Sarah Waters
I’m so cross with myself for not getting round to reading this sooner! Fingersmith is an utterly gripping, twisty story set in Victorian London, following orphan Susan Trinder, a young woman who grows up among thieves. She is drawn into a crafty plot to swindle another orphaned girl, Maud Lilly, of a fortune that she’ll inherit upon marriage – but things don’t go exactly to plan…
I loved pretty much everything about this book: the memorable characters, the precisely drawn settings, and the interiority of our first person narrator. When I read this, it’d been a while since I’d last been so immersed in a novel that I’m deaf and blind to everything going on around me, but this is definitely one of those books that you can escape into. I’m now going to do my best to read more Sarah Waters!
Babel by R F Kuang
Yes, this is the same author who wrote Yellowface (listed above). I loved both her debut fantasy Poppy War trilogy and Yellowface, so it made sense to complete my Kuang reading with Babel – and it didn’t disappoint!
Babel follows Robin Swift, a Chinese orphan who is whisked away from his homeland by a white Oxford professor, who just so happens to specialise in languages. Robin is brought up in both his mother tongue and English and, at eighteen, he is sent to Oxford to study at the Babel institute for language scholars – who are all contributing towards the growth of the British Empire by learning how to work silver.
I loved the twisted version of Victorian Britain with the addition of silverworking as a form of translation-based magic, and I also loved the critique of colonialism that runs throughout. The characters, particularly Robin’s friendship group, are intriguing, if not quite completely fleshed out, but the story is so interesting and gripping that I could overlook this.
As an aside, it’s interesting reading Babel after Kuang’s other books. There’s definitely a closer relationship (in terms of style/genre) between the Poppy War books and Babel than between either of those and Yellowface, but all of them offer a unique take on the very real consequences of empire, colonialism and racism. I can’t wait to see what Kuang writes next!
More novels and novellas I enjoyed in 2023
- What You Are Looking for is in the Library by Michiko Aoyama
- Perilous Times by Thomas D Lee
- Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah
- Broken Light by Joanne Harris
- The Poppy War / The Dragon Republic / The Burning God by R F Kuang
- Lori & Joe by Amy Arnold
- Fire Rush by Jacqueline Crooks
- The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida by Shehan Karunatilaka
- Tentacle by Rita Indiana
- Pyramids by Terry Pratchett
- Heaven by Mieko Kawakami
- Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Short stories
Salt Slow by Julia Armfield
An exquisitely written set of stories largely drawing on magical realism and aspects of the uncanny to paint a picture of the lives of an assortment of women and girls.
I loved the weird and wonderful stories in this collection, particularly the raw teenage fandom of ‘Stop Your Women’s Ears with Wax’, ‘Formerly Feral’ with its strange wolf-daughter, and the submerged title story, which provoked such dread, pity and unease in me that I’m not sure I’ll ever forget it!
Armfield’s way with words is singular yet accessible, and a lesson for other short story writers in using precisely the right words in as simple a way as possible to convey particular images and feelings.
How Long ’til Black Future Month? by N K Jemisin
I’d only read the Broken Earth trilogy before picking up this collection, and it has only reminded me for the fourth time that I really need to read more of Jemisin’s amazing writing!
This is a fantastic, eclectic collection of stories that seem to venture into many corners of spec fic/sci-fi/fantasy. Jemisin has a real talent for writing vastly different stories and characters that are equally compelling.
I’m hard pushed to choose favourites, but I particularly enjoyed the food-themed stories ‘L’Alchemista’ and ‘Cuisine des Mémoires’. I also loved the herby magic of ‘Red Dirt Witch’ and an altogether different magic in ‘The Narcomancer’. But really, I enjoyed them all!
Manchester Uncanny by Nicholas Royle
A set of short stories by the novelist, short story writer and academic Nicholas Royle, from various points in his career.
The stories are set across a range of locations in and around Manchester, and are strange or disturbing in some unexpected ways. Quite a few have links to music, films, books and university life, a reflection of the author’s own life and interests, but the plots and characters are varied and entertaining.
I particularly enjoyed the opening story, ‘Welcome Back’ (about some unusual staff at a university), ‘Full On Night’ (about someone going on a strange nighttime drive) and ‘Safe’ (set around a flat with a mysterious safe in one of the rooms), but to be honest most of the stories were really interesting and absorbing for this Manchester resident who happens to work in a university! A great read for Mancunians and anyone interested in the uncanny.
I Wanted to be Close to You by Katie Oliver
I Wanted to be Close to You is a collection of very short and short stories preoccupied with plants, sinister technology and motherhood, all following women protagonists with some weird and wonderful desires.
I really enjoyed Oliver’s accessible writing style and the inventive concepts for many of the stories. My favourites were ‘First Time at the Allotment’, a brief insight into a world where vegetables are frowned upon, ‘Underbelly’, which made me think of Carmen Maria Machado’s ‘The Husband Stitch’, and ‘Nancy’, about a woman who turns into a sunflower.
A very enjoyable collection!
Non-fiction
A Dutiful Boy by Mohsin Zaidi
A heart-rending and inspiring memoir from Mohsin Zaidi, a British Pakistani Muslim and barrister who realised he was gay as a child, and spent subsequent years battling with this knowledge before finally coming out.
The book starts in Mohsin’s childhood and paints a picture of an extremely devout Shia Muslim family for whom being gay is simply not an option. Because of this belief and Mohsin’s own faith, he tries to deny his sexuality and attempts to pray it away. Meanwhile, it becomes apparent that he is academically gifted, and it’s only when he goes to Oxford for his law degree that he starts to find the courage to face up to who he really is, and to begin taking his resistant parents on the same journey.
I absolutely loved this memoir and have so much admiration for Mohsin’s bravery and strength in the face of awful circumstances, especially coming from a south Asian family myself and knowing how difficult it is to establish who you are within what feels like a fixed, strict culture. It’s a simply told story but there’s much complexity within it, especially at the intersection between his identities – particularly as he comes of age just as the 9/11 terror attacks happen.
Letters to a Writer of Colour ed. by Deepa Anappara and Taymour Soomro
This is a brilliant collection of essays for and by writers of colour, many of which say the things so many of us writers of colour dare not say out loud.
The essays’ themes range from authenticity and different ways to write characters, to queerness and standing in solidarity with other writers of colour. Honestly, there wasn’t a single essay that I didn’t enjoy or find utterly thought-provoking. Standouts for me were by Madeleine Thien (On Structure), Zeyn Joukhadar (On Queerness), Jamil Jan Kochai (On Telling and Showing), Myriam Gurba (On Art and Activism), and Deepa Anappara (On the Ideal Conditions for Writing).
I read the book slowly, over 3 months, and it’s been such a great volume to dip into while I work on my own writing. Highly recommended for all you other writers (and readers) of colour.
After the Storm: Postnatal Depression and the Utter Weirdness of New Motherhood by Emma Jane Unsworth
An honest, funny, heartbreaking and inspiring account of the author’s experiences of pregnancy, childbirth and postnatal depression.
I love Unsworth’s fiction and her nonfiction is just as refreshing and interesting. She doesn’t flinch from relating some truly sad stories about her experiences, which is exactly what’s needed to encourage more openness and discussion about what sounds like one of the most traumatic things people can go through.
I’m not a mother, and I feel like I’ve learned a lot from this short book.
The Sound of Being Human: How Music Shapes Our Lives by Jude Rogers
The Sound of Being Human by music journalist Jude Rogers is part memoir, part scientific exploration of why we’re drawn to music and how it affects the brain and memory.
The book follows an ‘LP’ structure with each chapter – or track – exploring the significance of a particular song to Rogers and the research/expert opinion on the different reasons for these songs seeming to be so important – ties to emotions like grief and love, triggers for foundational memories, the articulation of thoughts and feelings that the listener would otherwise have struggled to put into words… and, of, course, the very real and significant turmoil of teenage crushes on pop stars!
It’s a fascinating, accessible insight into not just the soundtrack of Rogers’s life, but also the reasons why music of all kinds hold such power over us. It made me think about the songs that trigger the most powerful memories for me, and has given me a new appreciation of the eclectic range of music that I love and am inspired by. I would strongly recommend it to any music fan!
Misfits: A Personal Manifesto by Michaela Coel
Misfits is, in essence, Coel’s powerful MacTaggart lecture to an audience of thousands of people from the broadcasting industry in 2018. There’s a powerful introduction and epilogue, too, where we learn about the process of writing the lecture and how she felt about it afterwards.
I remember the buzz around the lecture back in 2018 but never got round to hearing its content until this audiobook. Coel of course reads her own words so powerfully considering the world of pain that they stem from. The lecture is Coel’s story about her rise within broadcasting, from an evangelical Christian child who was thrust into a local theatre group because it was effectively free childcare to her time at drama school and then her experiences of writing and producing Chewing Gum.
She reveals so much about the inherent racism and classism of the broadcasting industry in the process, and while, sadly, none of it is surprising, it’s still shocking to hear about the way her actor colleagues on Chewing Gum were unfairly segregated in a crowded trailer away from Coel and a white actor, and about the sexual assault that led to the making of the fantastic I May Destroy You.
I would highly recommend reading this book via audio because it’s such a compelling lecture. I do wonder how the audience received her words, and whether much has changed at all since 2018.
Listen: On Music, Sound and Us by Michel Faber
Listen is a fascinating, unconventional exploration of the power of music, and why we like the music we do (as well as a brief look at why some people simply don’t get on with it at all). As he sets out early on, this isn’t a normal book about music where the author tries to convince readers of the virtues of their favourite genre/artist/album. Rather, Faber is interested in what draws us to particular songs or LPs or genres beyond nostalgia for music associated with earlier phases of our lives.
I love Faber’s fiction, and he has an excellent non-fiction voice, too. He is both funny and thoughtful, and extremely self-aware while also being pragmatic. It probably helps that he himself has such an eclectic taste in music, with a preference for the obscure; he writes almost as an outsider looking in at people like me. I particularly enjoyed the chapters on how children/teens form musical preferences, the role of music critics, and fashion and music tribalism. Faber touches on so many themes and topics that are fascinating to explore – even what felt to me a rather sad chapter on humans forcing music onto/out of animals.
The main takeaway I got from the book is that there is no point pronouncing one artist or genre to be better than another (something I’ve long believed because of the slightly eclectic nature of my own tastes!). We are all different, and like what we like – art is such a subjective medium, and life’s too short to listen to the things we feel we should be listening to rather than what we want to listen to. A really interesting, brilliantly written book!
One of Them: An Eton College Memoir by Musa Okwonga
One of Them is a thoughtful, insightful memoir of Black writer Musa Okwonga’s time at Eton, the boarding school of choice for those wealthy enough to afford it. Middle class but not exactly rich, Okwonga went in the 90s on a scholarship that is no longer available today.
He talks about his schooldays with much fondness, but also with the clarity that only comes with hindsight, seeing exactly why Eton produces the politicians it does, and how the school’s culture shaped the arrogance of Boris Johnson and similar. And of course, there’s the racism, some of which Okwonga doesn’t detect at the time, but can clearly see now.
As with the other book of Okwonga’s that I’ve read, In the End It Was All About Love, the writing is clear and elegant, lovely and precise. It’s a very readable book that provides a nuanced look at private schools for the super privileged, and should be of interest to anyone curious about some of the origins of today’s far right UK government.
Ugly: Giving Us Back Our Beauty Standards by Anita Bhagwandas
Anita Bhagwandas is a respected beauty editor who, as a plus-size woman of Indian heritage, brings a much needed intersectional take on all things beauty. Ugly is part memoir, part fascinating overview of the history of beauty, changing beauty norms and the forces that really control the way in which we see ourselves and others.
The book is split into chapters about different facets of beauty, from the history of make-up and how it is marketed and used today, to issues around weight/dieting, wellness, and cosmetic surgery. It’s very well researched, readable and thoughtful in its approach to exploring these issues, with lots of references to Bhagwandas’ own life, which I could really relate to – growing up chubby and brown in the 80s and 90s, the insidious effects of the size zero trend of the 2000s, the powerful pull of social media and how it dictates how we think we should present ourselves to the world. Her experiences as a beauty journalist offer a well-informed angle on all of these things, too.
While the book mainly focuses on women, she does also point out how men have been equally affected by the grip of capitalism and patriarchal forces on what is a massively lucrative industry built largely on a need to tell others how they should feel about the way they look. As you progress through Ugly, it’s interesting how clear it is that the overly critical way in which some people view their looks is very much a product of forces bigger than the individual – something that is definitely not always apparent when you’re scrolling through Instagram or browsing beauty products in a shop.
An excellent read with lots of food for thought.
Written: How to Keep Writing and Build a Habit That Lasts by Bec Evans and Chris Smith
Written is a brilliant, inspiring book that encourages writers at all levels to find the writing process that works best for their personal circumstances rather than trying and failing to stick to unrealistic goals and routines to get their projects finished.
Delving into both science and interviews with experts and writers, the authors look at different ways of staying engaged with a writing project and explain the pros and cons of popular methods such as setting a daily word count, signing up to challenges like NaNoWriMo, and writing groups. There are exercises at the end of each chapter to help writers find out what works best for them.
I started reading Written after a two-month writing slump that left me dispirited and disillusioned with all things writing-related. This book along with the Mslexia 2023 planner for writers (which was developed in conjunction with the authors of Written) have done so much to propel me back into writing by making me reflect on my writing practice and what works (and what doesn’t). The science is explained in an easy to understand way and the overall tone is really helpful and encouraging. I’d recommend it to any writer struggling with sticking to a writing project.