40 Books in 2020 - What I read in January

I’ve set a personal goal to read 40 books in 2020. This was inspired originally by my friend Elliott Engelmann, who is pursuing a loftier one-per-week goal of 52 — I heard his challenge and then set a more modest goal, not wanting to steal the spotlight and perhaps also in an effort to underpromise and overdeliver .. operating from a position of strength even in my most insular activities accountable only to myself. “Maybe she needs to chill the fuck out?” You’re thinking to yourself. You’re correct. That’s why we’re unwinding with BOOKS! 

So far, I’m feeling energized by it. I’m reading quicker than usual, flexing the muscle that helps push past that initial activation curve of sustained focus. I’m having fewer of those moments where you look at your book, pick up your book, get distracted, re-read the same page four times, put it down and pick up your phone. The more I read the easier that feels, spurred on by the reward of the feeling of the coming together of things. I love the endings of books, the back quarter. If they’re done right. Or maybe I’m just swayed in this moment by last night’s wrapping up of Washington Black, but more on that shortly. 

I’m hoping to catalog monthly the books I’ve read and a little bit about what they made me feel. Here’s January.

My Absolute Darling by Gabriel Tallent

In retrospect, an aggressive choice for my first book of 2020, but I didn’t make my selection too carefully. The back cover had me at “beautiful descriptions of the Mendocino coast” and “strong female lead”. When I realized, a few pages in, what this book had in store for me, my stomach dropped. A novel largely about the abuse of a child at the hands of her father, this was at times difficult to get through. Looking back, though, I feel absolutely haunted by this book — and not by the gut wrenching, unspeakable parts — but by the breaking free of that. And by the backdrop, the descriptions of the Mendocino coast mixing with my own memories of time spent there. Jagged cliffs, rivers a bright turquoise emptying into the Pacific Ocean, seals basking at their mouth. My dad’s story of the time in the mid 1970s he narrowly escaped being lured onto a school bus of potential cult members and spent the night camping alone with his motorcycle up a dirt road outside town to avoid running into them after declining their advances. The family trip I took with my mom, dad, and sister the first time I ever came to California, relaxing in lush rooms at the Stanford Inn, exploring hillsides filled with flowers, complaining about the vegan restaurant on site but secretly enjoying it. The bike ride Nathan and I took up Little River, road bikes on a dirt path, discussing the likelihood of running into the mountain lion that’d been recently spotted in the vicinity. Imagine the vastness of the lives of the people around us — that this story, though fictional, IS playing out, even in places of exceptional natural beauty. Terrible, unspeakable darkness right in the middle of paradise, squished up against families on vacation. Living one life and not the other for no reason at all except luck. 

Favorite Quote: 

“You need to surrender yourself to death before you ever begin, and accept your life as a state of grace, and then and only then will you be good enough.”

Future Home of the Living God by Louise Erdich

Not sure I can wax poetic about this one. Dystopian, for sure, Future Home of the Living God spent 268 pages making me feel terrified of bringing a child into the world ever. The being pregnant part, the uncertainty for the future part. And this book was frustratingly far from believable science fiction. The entire plot is based upon a dystopian future in which evolution has suddenly stopped and reversed direction at a rapid pace. The evolutionary bio nerd in me needed a little more HOW to the WHAT. Nothing was presented as far as the biology of the thing goes, though I suppose this book leaned heavily toward religion and faith for its motifs and much less toward science. That was, in fact, my favorite part. 

Favorite quote: 

“Someone has been tortured on my behalf. Someone has been tortured on your behalf. Someone in this world will always be suffering on your behalf. If it comes your time to suffer, just remember, someone suffered for you. That is what taking on a cloak of human flesh is all about, the willingness to hurt for another human being.”

City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert

I picked up this book because I needed a feel-good read, and I found one. Entertaining from cover to cover, I’d recommend this book to anyone who shares my penchant for “smart but not exhausting” books — you know, the ones with a plot that moves, written well enough that you aren’t distracted by something sounding trite or cliche. This hit that sweet spot for me, bonus points for a female protagonist, coming of age story, juicy gossipy moments, and a love story even when you least expected it. The book read like a love letter to the city of New York, which I don’t necessarily share, but enjoyed just the same. Any descriptions that nail a sense of place, home, and belonging are always great with me. 

Favorite quote: 

“The war had invested with me an understanding that life is both dangerous and fleeting, and thus there is no point in denying yourself pleasure or adventure while you are here. Anyway, at some point in a woman’s life, she just gets tired of being ashamed all the time. After that, she is free to become whoever she truly is.”

Washington Black by Esi Edugyan

This book did a lot, and left me reading anxiously, waiting in earnest for things to get better for Washington Black. Born on a slave plantation in Barbados in (year), things started in a dark, brutal, world of the worst humanity has to offer. From there things didn’t get rosier, necessarily, but they did get interesting. What I’m really left sitting with though, is the book’s ending. [author] gave me exactly the right amount of resolution and mystery in the final pages, the back hundred pages flying by, no longer the gut-wrenching evil marking the opening of the book nor the unsettling suspense of the middle third. The crescendo and then what we’re left chewing on afterward — especially ideas about who we are to the people in our lives, who they are to us, and how little we can do about it. It left me guessing just enough to turn my minds eye back on myself and give some thought to my own relationships. Didn’t expect that, but I liked it. 

Favorite quote:

“She told me I was born of stupidity, that it must be blood-deep, and also that I was brilliant, that there would never again be a mind like mine. She loved me with a viciousness that kept me from ever feeling complacent, with the reminder that nothing was permanent, that we would one day be lost to each other. She loved me with the terror of separation, as someone who had lost all the riches of a scorched life. She loved me in spite of these past losses, as if to say, I will not surrender this time, you will not take this from me.”

The Tortilla Curtain by T.C. Boyle

I can’t say I enjoyed myself through this one, but I can’t say I didn’t, either. T.C. Boyle weaves together two Californias in a world so unbelievable it feels just about real. A wealthy, white, “liberal progressive” couple of Topanga Canyon and their unwelcome neighbors - immigrants from Mexico, a husband and his pregnant wife, camping in the creekbed at the bottom of the canyon. A pedestrian is hit by a car, dogs are eaten by coyotes, cats are eaten by people (yikes) and nature - human and otherwise - rears its ugly head. I might have thought the descriptions of the wealthy white Topanga Canyon real estate power couple were funny… if they weren’t so absolutely on the nose. A book that should force any of us to take a good look at ourselves and ask where our own actions betray our hypocrisy. I won’t lie - between a personal experience this past fall and the characters of this book, the Topanga Canyon property owners aren’t in particularly high standing with me.

Favorite Quote:

“There are always surprises. Life may be inveterately grim and the surprises disproportionately unpleasant, but it would be hardly worth living if there were no exceptions, no sunny days, no acts of random kindness.”