2011: The Year in Review

2011 was not a great reading year for me. Last year, not only was I able to easily come up with a list of 26 favourites, but I even had an alternate list to spare. This year, not so much – I read fewer books overall, and fewer still that really impressed me. I have no doubt that much of this has to do with the fact that this was a difficult and exhausting year for me on a personal level. It takes both the book and the reader, after all, for that special click to happen.

Having said that, I’m still very grateful to have discovered the following books, all of which will undoubtedly stay with me for a very long time. Without further ado, here are my favourite reads of the year, in no particular order (as usual, this is a list of books I read this year, rather than a list of 2011 releases).

Fiction

• The 10PM Question by Kate De Goldi — A subtle and layered story about a family dealing with mental illness, making the best of their circumstances, and realising there is more than one way to be happy.
  
  
• A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness — This take on grief, loss, and the importance of the narratives we build for ourselves is absolutely brilliant. I strongly suspect this will be next year’s Carnegie Medal winner.
  
  
• Temeraire series by Naomi Novik — I read this whole series in a little over a month, so it has kind of become a single entity in my mind. No other books brought me as much joy as these this year. Who knew adding dragons to Regency England could result in something so rich in accurate historical detail?
  
  
• The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides — Young twenty-somethings trying to find their place in the world, plenty of literary theory, a heroine obsessed with Victorian novels, and heaps of intertextual references. The ingredients alone make this sound like something I’d love, and fortunately the execution did not disappoint in the least.
  
  
• Kraken by China Miéville — It might sound overdramatic to say that Kraken restored by faith in reading when I thought I’d lost it, but that’s what it felt like at the time. This novel of giant squids, secret cults and fiery apocalypses is one of the strangest I’ve ever read, but also one of the most fun.
  
  
• To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf — Possibly my favourite of the Woolf novels I’ve read to date. I loved To The Lighthouse for many reasons, but was particularly impressed by its take on the obstacles to real intimacy put up by Victorian gender roles.
  
  
• Ragnarök by A.S. Byatt — A tender, dark and memorable take on the Norse myths and the apocalypse by one of my favourite writers. The writing in particular is Byatt at its best – elegant and full of descriptive detail, but never excessive.
  
  
• Among Others by Jo Walton — There are many reasons to love this subtle fantasy novel, but my main one was its realistic and very sensitive portrayal of a young girl’s intellectual development, and of the effect that constant engagement with ideas, fictional people and imaginary worlds has on her mind. This is certainly a book for book lovers.

• Journey to the River Sea by Eva Ibbotson — I could have listed any of the Ibbotson novels I read this year, but this is perhaps my favourite. I’m sure it helps that it was my first, but also that it ties in with so many of my interests – the Edwardian era, the Amazon, women naturalists, exciting voyages. This is a fairy tale without magic, and an absolutely perfect comfort read.
  
  
• Westwood by Stella Gibbons — While Nightingale Wood remains my favourite Gibbons novel, this is now a close second. A hilarious, gentle novel about a bookish and awkward heroine, with an ending that subverts the stories about women that remain dominant to this day.
  
  
• Thank Heaven Fasting by E.M. Delafield— An unwavering look at the emotional and psychological consequences of the marriage market. While novels that focus on women’s enforced economic dependence often seem to invite a sigh of relief from contemporary readers, this one will very much not.
  
  
• Chime by Franny Billingsley — An unreliable narrator, an atmosphere somewhat reminiscent of We Have Always Lived in the Castle, and a close look at the clash between modernity and an older way of life; at gender and creativity; and at life in small communities. What’s not to love?
  
  
• Caddy’s World by Hilary McKay— Oh Casson Family books, how do I love thee? I finished this series last year and didn’t know there was a prequel on the way, so finding Caddy’s World was like receiving a gift from the universe. Anyway: if you like smart and funny stories with brilliant characterisation and the ability to move you when you least expect it, please read these.
  
  
• Case Histories by Kate Atkinson — A character-oriented mystery that I particularly loved for its examination of the idea of the “perfect victim”. My fellow bloggers keep telling me I’ll love Atkinson’s non-mysteries even more, so I can’t wait to read them.
  
  
• Two Weeks with the Queen by Morris Gleitzman — An absolute gem of a book, and a strong contender for the title of Short Book Most Likely to Make You Run Out of Tears (watch out, A Monster Calls). Gleitzman’s theme – a young boy’s loss of faith in adult infallibility – is by no means new, but he gets it absolutely right.
  
  
• There is No Dog by Meg Rosoff — Last but not least, we have another winner by Meg Rosoff. The concept of this novel (what if god was a teenage boy?) seems to draw the most attention, but it’s really the thoughtful, hilarious and generous execution that sets it apart.

Non-Fiction

• Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine — My urge to stand on a street corner handing out copies of this book to random passer-bys remains every bit as strong as when I first professed it, almost a year ago. Delusions of Gender is both one of the best feminist books I’ve ever read and one of the best science books. Fine demolishes dangerous and prevailing myths about gender and biological determinism with elegance and wit.
  
  
• The Brontë Myth by Lucasta Miller — A must-read for any Brontë fans, but also for anyone interested in the complexities and dangers of idealising others, in feminism and literary history, and in our changing perception of historical figures over time.
  
  
• The Hare With Amber Eyes by Edmund de Waal — This memoir/family history/art history book was to me more than deserving of all the accolades it’s been getting. De Waal tells his family’s story with amazing sensitivity and insight.
  
  
• Millions Like Us by Virginia Nicholson — Another fascinating piece of feminist social history from Virginia Nicholson, this time focusing on British women’s lives during WW2: What were they doing? What did it feel like? How did their experiences change them?
  
  
• Letters from a Lost Generation edited by Alan Bishop and Mark Bostridge — The collected WW1 letters of Vera Brittain and four men who did not survive the war – her fiancé, her brother, and two close friends. A harrowing read, but impossible to put down.

Honourable mentions: Fly By Night, Anya’s Ghost, Ship Breaker, Anna and the French Kiss, A String in the Harp, The Essex County Trilogy, A Doll’s House, Henry Dunbar, Walk Two Moons, The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland on a Ship of Her Own Making, The Monstrumologist.

Statistics
I must begin the stats section with the usual disclaimer. I was disappointed not to have reached 200 books for the first time in a few years – but I do of course realise that complaining about the number of books you’ve read, especially when it’s still a fairly high number by most people’s standards, has the potential to make you sound insufferably smug, like you’re fishing for compliments, or, worst of all, completely blind to your own privilege.

So let me get this out of the way: I feel blessed to have been able to read as much as I did, even if it wasn’t as much as in previous years, and I absolutely don’t see reading as a competitive sport. I publish these stats because I find other readers’ interesting, and therefore hope they may be of similar interest to others. But I absolutely don’t think how much you read say anything at all about you, other than perhaps how quickly you read or how much time you’re lucky enough to be able to devote to a favourite hobby.

Before I go on, I should also clarify that these percentages don’t add up to 100 because some of the categories overlap.

Total books read: 174 (23% down from last year.)
Novels: 107 (61.5%)
Short Story Collections and Anthologies: 4 (2.3%: mission Read More Short Fiction was a failure yet again this year.)
Comics aka Graphic Novels: 28 (16%)
Non-Fiction: 50 (29% — this number is a little inflated by all my dissertation-related reading.)
Poetry: 1 (0.6%. Eep.)
Plays: 2 (1.2% — better than last year’s zero, I suppose.)
In translation: 5 (A dismal 2.9%.)
Classics: 25 (14.4% — certainly down from last year’s 22%.)
By Women: 103 (59%)
By Men: 69 (39.8%)
By Men and Women: 2 (1.2%)
By People of Colour: 17 (9.7% )
glbtq: 16 (9.2%. Diversity roll call is about the same as last year, which is to say, still not great. More on this tomorrow.)
Re-reads: 1 (0.6%. I guess this year I have the excuse of having been separated from most of my books all year.)
By new to me authors: 98 (56% — though again the number is inflated by research-related non-fiction.)
Favourite authors discovered this year: Eva Ibbotson, Kate Atkinson.
Least favourite book of the year: The Very Thought of You by Rosie Alison – apologies to any fans, but it really wasn’t for me.
Best reading month: January (26 books, or 15% of my yearly reading. I was ill for much of the month and took refuge in books.)
Worst reading month: September (8 books, or 4.6% of my reading. The month when I finished my dissertation – enough said.)

I’ll be back tomorrow with one last post about my reading plans for 2012, but I wanted to wish you all the best for the New Year anyway. May it be full of wonderful bookish discoveries for all of us.