On paper, 2020 seems like it would be the perfect year to get some serious reading done. All that time stuck at home! All those cancelled plans! All those reasons to switch off the news! It’s a bookworm’s dream, isn’t it?
Well, when we got together to talk about our favourite books this year, we agreed that it had actually been a harder year for reading than you might expect. It’s tricky to concentrate when the house is burning down.
Nevertheless, there were some books that managed to cut through. Here’s what we enjoyed reading most during these unprecedented times.
Dan’s Picks:
Upstream Mary Oliver
There seems to be a serenity in every word Mary Oliver writes. It’s why I love her poetry, and it’s why I loved this collection of essays. The writing covers nature, inspiration and the study of great writers. It helped to get me through 2020.
Lincoln in the Bardo George Saunders
I love stories that make me laugh, and I love stories that make me cry. This novel does both—in bucketloads. And not only does the book take you on an emotional rollercoaster, it also throws away all the rules of fiction (large parts of the text are lifted from history books). It’s weird, moving, and brave.
Hegarty on Creativity John Hegarty
Creative people writing about creativity can be hit and miss. Sometimes it’s life-affirming, often it’s frustrating. This book, by ad guru John Hegarty, is the former. It acts as a primer for anyone who wants to fine-tune their creative side, whether for work or just for kicks. It’s beautifully succinct, too.
Underland Robert Macfarlane
I’m a sucker for anything Robert Macfarlane writes. Even for him, this is a great piece of work. In it, he looks at the great underground spaces of our world—from the Catacombs of Paris to the caverns of the Peak District. It’s not helped me with my claustrophobia.
Ed’s picks:
The Moon’s a Balloon David Niven
Ok, so spot the person who fell into the lockdown trap of only reading books he’s already read. Apparently it’s a thing. Nonetheless, it gave me the excuse to go over two comforting hugs from the past, the first of which is David Niven’s autobiography. It was voted the best ever autobiography by The Guardian, so it’s hardly a hidden gem, but it is a wonderful escape from reality into a world where Errol Flynn comes round for cups of tea, and you find Greta Garbo swimming naked in your pool.
Joy in the morning P.G.Woodhouse
P.G.Woodhouse, Jeeves and Wooster… again, hardly a novel discovery, but just in CASE you’ve never read any Woodhouse, or even if you just haven’t had your Woodhouse dose for a little while, this is making it into my very short list. Whether you bounce across the top of the prose and enjoy the story for a few delicious hours, or you start getting into the nitty detail of how he makes words into something so damn funny, it’s a Christmas present to yourself. Be sure to read the preface on knuttery.
Jim’s picks:
The Buried Giant Kazuo Ishiguro
Beautiful, weird, mysterious and poignant. A mythical fantasy set in ancient Britain about an old couple that go looking for their long lost son. Writing that takes you into another world and makes you feel.
Bonfire of the Vanities Tom Wolfe
Meaty, searing, often hilarious take on 1980s New York. Deliciously drawn characters. Took me a while but was worth it.
I am Pilgrim Terry Hayes
No-nonsense ripsnorter of a thriller. Cliched perhaps but who cares when it’s done this well. In fact that’s exactly what you want. Masterfully crafted and just really really good fun. Pour yourself a port. Get stuck in.
This is not propaganda: Adventures in the war against reality Peter Pomerantsev
Compelling look at the origins of fake news and how its domination of society and political discourse is being accelerated by social media. If you liked the Social Dilemma on Netflix it’s worth a read.
Jack W’s picks:
A Gift Of Love Martin Luther King Jr
Few people’s words have had as big an impact as Martin Luther King’s. Reading his sermons and speeches, you see why: it’s not just that he was a great writer and speaker – although if you’re looking for a masterclass in oratory, you’ll definitely find it here. But more than that, he was able to share a vision of a better world, and to keep people believing, in spite of everything they could see. We still need that.
Landing Light Don Patterson
To be honest, I’ve abandoned a lot of longer books this year. Call it the jittery 2020 mindset, or the result of moving house twice with a new baby and a toddler. But I’ve enjoyed poetry – it takes a lot less time to read and gives you something to think about at 4am. This collection by Don Patterson opens up different possibilities every time you dip in.
The Years Annie Ernaux
I read this one in the before times, back when Corona was something served with lime and burritos. It’s one French writer’s story of the 20th century, told in a style that mixes personal recollections, advertising slogans, political commentary – hard to describe but wonderful. Like sharing a bottle of wine and stories with the super cool French philosopher friend you wish you had.
Beowulf: A New Verse Translation Seamus Heaney
I read this by a wood stove in a small cottage in Yorkshire while waiting to move house, some time between the two lockdowns. It’s a proper Anglo-Saxon epic, with kings and feasts and monsters and more blood than you can shake a goblet at. We’ve all had our monsters to overcome this year. This is a cosy – but gory – way to reflect on it all.
Jack S’s picks:
Das Boot Lothar-Günther Bucheim
An old favourite resurfaces. Looking back, I seem to have done a fair bit of comfort-reading this year – tucking into old favourites I know will reliably distract me from reality. With the Writing Club surf trip cancelled I had to go back and read Barbarian Days. But for edge-of-your-bed, squeaky-bum time reading it has to be Das Boot. I’ve been fully submerged in it for the past few weeks and it’s as good as I remembered.
Work: A history of how we spend our time James Suzman
Non-fiction dippers. Unusually for me, I also did a bit of dipping this year. The impressively thick Beastie Boys Book has been sitting on my bedside table along with Work: a history of how we spend our time. I’ve dipped into both without feeling the need to read either cover-to-cover. But I will be going back to Work: a history because I suspect it will give me lots of lovely arguments about how our current working practices are built on long out-of-date traditions.
The Outsiders S.E. Hinton
A new, old classic. Discovery of the year in our house was S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders. Written in 1967 (and then made into a movie by Francis Ford Coppola), it’s the debut novel of a 17 year-old girl about gangs of teenage boys. It’s a brilliant portrayal of masculinity, friendship and rebellion. I read it in a couple of days and passed it on to my 12 year-old son who did the same. We both vote it our read of the year.
Heaven, My Home Attica Locke
Some new, new stuff. I seem to have read quite a lot of fiction set in the deep south this year. My favourite was Heaven, My Home by Attica Locke. Using the racial tension of Trump’s election victory as a backdrop, it’s about a black policeman investigating the disappearance of the son of a local Aryan Brotherhood captain. Except it’s about much more than that, too.
Polly’s picks:
All the Light We Cannot See Anthony Doerr
Set across Europe during WW2, this is a page-turner of epic proportions. Doerr’s carefully constructed prose paints such a detailed picture of the world and emotions of the central characters, Marie-Laure and Werner, that I found myself worrying about what would happen next even when I wasn’t reading it. Deeply moving, the book explores the futility of war on a very personal level and how much power we as human beings really have to choose our own destiny.
Three Women Lisa Taddeo
This book has been written about a lot this year. But what really resonated with me is, in a world where female empowerment is rightfully at the top of the agenda, it’s so sad that women can still be so mean to each other. If we can’t be kind and supportive to our own sex, what example are we setting for others? This book looks at the lives of three women, their stories, how they were judged on them by other women and is a good reminder that things are rarely as they seem.
Frankenstein Mary Shelley
In a crazy year, reading an old favourite felt like a much-needed creature comfort (along with cake and wine). Over 200 years since it was first published, many of the themes Shelley explores still feel incredibly relevant, not least the ethical and social consequences of pushing the natural world to its limit.
Plus, it’s a great excuse to watch The National Theatre’s 2011 production of Frankenstein which they released onto YouTube earlier this year. Directed by Danny Boyle and with Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller alternating between the roles of Victor Frankenstein and his creation, it’s almost as good as the book.
Pippi Longstocking Astrid Lindgren
This was one of my favourite books when I was little, and I have loved reliving her mischievous tales reading this to my six-year-old son recently. People may think the Spice Girls were the instigators of girl power but Pippi was leading the way back in the 1950s. She’s a strong, powerful 9-year-old girl who isn’t afraid to stand up for what’s right in the world – plenty of lessons for readers both young and old.
Ruby’s picks:
La Belle Sauvage, The Book of Dust: Volume One Phillip Pullman
This book is a prequel to an old favourite of mine, the His Dark Materials trilogy, but is enjoyable whether you’re an avid fan of the books or have never heard of them. It takes place in a parallel world, and follows an ordinary boy thrust into an adventure to protect an extraordinary baby (the protagonist of the original series) from harm in a world increasingly dominated by the church and corruption. Fantasy isn’t a genre for everyone, but when the story is told in a way as rich as Phillip Pullman tells it, it truly paints a picture on the page, and you can’t help but be whisked away to his world.
The Tipping Point: How little things can make a big difference Malcolm Gladwell
This was a reread for me, I had read it years ago, and found it fascinating, so much so that I talked about it in my personal statement for universities (I don’t think they actually like when you do that, but I got in nonetheless). Throughout the book, Gladwell explores and explains the sociological phenomena of trends and changes in group behaviour in a surprisingly light and interesting way, drawing out real examples. To quote him, the ‘Tipping Point’ is “that magic moment when an idea, trend, or social behaviour crosses a threshold, tips, and spreads like wildfire”.
The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse Charlie Mackesy
This is most definitely a short but sweet book. The author Charlie Mackesy is a cartoonist for The Spectator and book illustrator for The Oxford, so as you can imagine, the illustrations are a masterpiece in themselves. Each page is a hopeful sentiment or heartfelt phrase, which at first my cynical mind was a bit quick to roll my eyes at, but as I turned each page I became more and more touched. Its simplicity is not to be confused with its deeper message. And even though it was published a few years ago, a bit of light encouragement and hope has never been more needed. It’s a beautiful book you keep picking up, not one you read quickly and then put down to dust.
That thing around your neck Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie
I love this book for picking up before bed as although it’s a collection of lots of short stories, each one grips you instantly across its few pages. Adichie tells a story so effortlessly and yet with such meaning, following different paths and experiences of nigerian immigrants in the modern world. Each gives an interesting perspective of western influences and really explores the theme of identity and belonging.