I usually try to get this post up by the end of June, but here it is mid-July and I’m just now getting around to sharing my ten favorite books of the first half of 2017. Blame summer! There’s just so much to do and so much to share – but, slowly but surely, I’m catching up all around and ready to talk reading for the first half of the year. I’ve read some great books this year – as always. It’s been a big comfort reading year for me, as I knew it would be. So, without any more preface, my ten favorites (so far, and as always these are books read in 2017 but not necessarily published this year) from the first half of the year:
Barchester Towers, by Anthony Trollope – The second volume in Trollope’s celebrated Barchester series returns us to our old friends Eleanor and Mr Harding. The cataclysmic waves that reverberate through Barchester after the Bishop dies and a new Bishop with a completely different philosophy takes over are riveting. Wonderful new characters – Mrs Proudie, the Thornes, the Stanhopes and more – enter the world and it’s just a delight all around. I laughed out loud in nearly every chapter and enjoyed every second of this book – probably my favorite of the year so far.
The Making of a Marchioness, by Frances Hodgson Burnett – A romance between two decidedly unromantic characters – what could be better? Emily Fox-Seeton, a gentlewoman in reduced circumstances, unwittingly and unintentionally charms one of the most eligible aristocratic bachelors in all of England. The proposal – over a fish bucket! – is an absolute gem.
Hidden Figures: The American Dream and the Untold Story of the Black Women Mathematicians who Helped Win the Space Race, by Margot Lee Shetterly – If you had no idea that black women worked at NASA in huge numbers (as “computers” – mathematicians) and that they were responsible for the calculations that kept WWII planes in the air and brought Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin to the moon and back home, then you are just like me. This was a fascinating book that deserves all the attention it got. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I want to!
Northbridge Rectory, by Angela Thirkell – I mistakenly skipped a couple of novels in the series and ended up in the middle of WWII, and it turns out it’s totally true what Thirkell bloggers say – the WWII books are the best. This one follows Verena Villars, wife of Vicar Gregory Villars, and a surrounding cast of neighbors, friends and billeted officers. It was delightful and I was truly sorry when it ended.
Greenery Street, by Denis MacKail – A rare novel indeed, Greenery Street tells the story of a happy marriage. Ian and Felicity Foster tie the knot and set up their first home in Greenery Street, where they tackle all of the common travails of newlywed-hood: Money Concerns; Family Drama; Rude Neighbors; and Problems With The Servants. (What, you haven’t had that last one? Ha!) It’s a joy and a hoot.
The Hate U Give, by Angie Thomas – Starr Carter, aged sixteen, is on her way home from a party with her oldest friend Khalil when they are stopped by the police. Moments later, Khalil is dead – a victim of police shooting – and Starr’s life is changed forever. Starr deals with her legal limbo as “the witness”; her grief over losing her friend; and the different reactions of others in her neighborhood and school communities. It’s a powerful, heart-rending read.
Hag-Seed, by Margaret Atwood – Atwood’s contribution to the Hogarth Shakespeare Project follows a washed-up old theatre director who takes his revenge on the former underling who betrayed him in the most Atwood-Shakespearean way possible: with a psychedelic and terrifying production of The Tempest, performed by a local correctional facility’s inmates. Like ya do.
The Little White Horse, by Elizabeth Goudge – Maria, orphaned but not alone, arrives at Moonacre Manor to live and claim her birthright. On her first moonlit drive in, she sees a magical white horse. Maria discovers that Moonacre is a lovely, magical place but with a tinge of old sadness, and she sets about correcting a generations-old mistake and righting the wrongs of the past. Lovely and charming.
A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles – Count Alexander Rostov is in his thirties when he is found to be an unrepentant aristocrat and sentenced by the Bolshevik to a lifetime of imprisonment in the grand hotel he calls home. Count Rostov’s sphere of movement is limited but he comes into contact with fascinating and wonderful characters from every walk of life, while Soviet history takes place right outside his window. I just adored Count Rostov and every other resident of the Metropol.
Emily Climbs, by L.M. Montgomery – A re-read of my favorite installment from my favorite series, Emily Climbs follows Emily Starr as she leaves New Moon to attend high school in Shrewsbury. Like with any good L.M. Montgomery novel, there are parties and social events, a healthy dose of academic competition, and a whole lot of gorgeous descriptive writing.
Ten! It was a good first half of 2017 – at least where books are concerned! (Don’t get me started about the news.) I read some good ones and it was tough to whittle them down to ten favorites. I can already tell that it’s going to be hard to choose a top ten at the end of the year…
What books stood out for you in the first half of the year?
Hope in the Dark, by Rebecca Solnit – Solnit wrote Hope in the Dark back in the 2000s, in response to the Bush Administration and its wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and she recently updated it and made it available at a reduced price for those who need a dose in 2017, which I call very decent of her. Making the case for hope even when sanity and community seem to have fled the world, Solnit works her way through the recent history of the global social justice movement, explaining how so much more has been achieved than we realize, and how the journey is a victory in and of itself. Solnit argues against making the perfect the enemy of the good and holds up examples of successes as reasons to celebrate – reminding readers that while, yes, the goal is a perfectly just society, and of course we’re nowhere near it, we’ve achieved great things already. The book is a perfect antidote to the storms raging in our political landscape right now. It took months to read because I downloaded it to my phone (and reading for more than a few minutes on my phone gives me headaches) but it was well worth it and I am sure I will come back to this slim but comforting book.
Commonwealth, by Ann Patchett – Patchett’s latest novel was hotly anticipated and widely acclaimed. The book opens when Bert Cousins shows up uninvited at a Christening party for little Franny Keating, kisses Franny’s mother, and sets in motion the dissolution of two marriages and the combining of the Keating and Cousins families. Franny and her sister Caroline grow up spending their summers in Virginia with their mother and Bert, and they bond with Bert’s children over a mutual dislike of their parents – then one day, tragedy strikes. Years later, grown-up Franny begins an affair with an elderly author. When she tells him about her life, he decides that it should be a book… and Franny loses control of the narrative. So – I liked, but did not love, Commonwealth. None of the characters were particularly likeable, and I found it hard to care what happened to them. I appreciated the skill with which the novel was written, but it didn’t really do anything for me.
Who Thought This Was A Good Idea? And Other Questions You Need Answers To When You Work In The White House, by Alyssa Mastromonaco – I’d been eyeing Mastromonaco’s memoir of her years in the Obama White House and was planning to check it out of the library when I realized that the audiobook was read by the author and used an Audible credit to grab it. I started listening immediately and loved it. Mastromonaco is chatty and engaging, and her memoir of her career is fascinating. She has worked for Bernie Sanders, John Kerry’s Presidential campaign, and of course for President Obama. Mastromonaco doesn’t tell her life story in chronological order, but instead shares her stories in chapters organized around traits and values that she believes helped her succeed in her working life. Of course she was right at the center of things for many years, and she delivers plenty of fascinating insider details about the Kerry campaign and the Obama campaign and White House, which she intersperses with terrific career and professional advice. The audio production was wonderful as well. I think this is a memoir I’ll definitely listen to over again.
The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir, by Jennifer Ryan – I’d heard so much about this debut novel and it didn’t disappoint. Defying the Vicar’s order that the church choir be disbanded since all of the men are off at war, the women of Chilbury reorganize themselves as the Chilbury Ladies’ Choir. The book follows several of them for one summer – sweet Mrs. Tilling; scheming Miss Paltry; wild Venetia Winthrop; and more – as they navigate the new wartime reality of their lives. There are squabbles over loves, there are tragic losses, and there is a lot of singing. The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir was a lovely and ringing testament to the power of community to help us through the darkest times. I couldn’t put it down, and ended up finishing it in two days – much to my disappointment, because I’d have liked to spend a lot more time with the choir.
Lincoln in the Bardo, by George Saunders – This was one that I felt compelled to read because of all the buzz it was getting. Young Willie Lincoln has died of typhoid and been interred at Oak Ridge Cemetery in Georgetown. On the night of Willie’s funeral, his father, President Lincoln, pays a visit to the cemetery and holds his son’s body. The result – a battle for Willie’s soul – is told via a cacophony of voices, as excerpts from both real and imagined historical accounts of Lincoln’s life and presidency as well as in a structure reminiscent of a play, with the players being the other shades who are present with Willie in the cemetery on the night of the President’s visit. Well – I certainly appreciated the wildly creative nature of Lincoln in the Bardo, and I cried buckets while reading it. I can understand the buzz and hype and I don’t think they’re misplaced. For me, though, I am at a stage where I really want comfort reading, and Lincoln in the Bardo is very much not comfort reading (especially if you have children). I couldn’t put it down, and I thought it was astonishingly well-done, but it gave me nightmares.