10 Books of Summer makes way for 1 Book of Fall

By any metric, summer is over. School’s in (and I have a high school student!), leaves are falling, and I have a disappointing tally of reviews from my 10 Books of Summer. But I have big plans for fall.

10 Books of Summer wrap up

  1. Less by Andrew Sean Greer: actually reviewed, and enjoyed!
  2. The Netanyahus by Joshua Cohen: finished, past deadline, and unlikely to review, given the effort that would take, for a book that most people read back in 2021. It’s worth a read though, if you’re holding out.
  3. Athena by John Banville: my least favourite of the Book of Evidence trilogy, but still a stand out. Might tackle The Sea next.
  4. Small Boat by Vincent Delacroix tr. Helen Stevenson: This book took me by surprise. Should have won the IBP, probably (I didn’t read the winner so I can’t really say).
  5. There’s a Monster Behind the Door by Gaëlle Bélem tr. Karen Fleetwood and Laëtitia Saint-Loubert: A strong start, but it kind of petered out in the end.
  6. Playing Hard by Peter Unwin (a review copy, a collection of essays about games and sports): Did not get to this. It’s a tough one; an author I enjoy writing about a subject I’m not terribly interested in.
  7. Don Quixote by Cervantes tr. Edith Grossman: See below
  8. Mornings Without Mii by Mayumi Inaba tr. Ginny Tapley Takemori: Finished in an airport, sobbed.
  9. Yoga by Emmanuel Carrère tr. John Lambert: actually reviewed, and enjoyed ripping it to shreds.
  10. On the Calculation of Volume II by Solvej Balle tr. Barbara Haveland: Reviewed and enjoyed. November 18th, pub date of the third book in English, cannot come fast enough (apologies to Tara, who would certainly prefer to get to the 19th.)

1 Book of Fall preview

If I am going to read one book this fall, it will be Don Quixote. I tried and failed a few times over the summer, getting no farther than the introduction* and first few chapters, but I’m on chapter 8 now and believe I am “locked in,” as my kids would say. So far, I am struck by how this novel, often touted as the *first* novel, is about someone who went crazy from reading too many novels (well, romances). In light of recent moral panics like this one, I am curious about when and how the act of reading fiction went from being indulgent and ruinous (see also: Northanger Abbey) to virtuous and edifying.

If you’ve read Don Quixote and have any tips or resources for me, please share!

NovNov to the rescue

What about all those books of summer that I didn’t properly review? Luckily, most of them are novellas and would qualify for my favourite alliterative book blog event, Novellas in November. I would really like to write about Small Boat, as I have a theory about it that is either so obvious that no one talks about it, or so out there that I will look like an idiot. Can’t wait to find out which. I also want to talk about Dua Lipa’s book club, and this was a recent pick, so a perfect way in.

A disappointing review tally, but I did read 8/10 and started one more. Onward!

*The introduction is by Harold Bloom, who features rather prominently in The Netanyahus, in a strange coincidence, or bookish serendipity!

8 comments

  1. Elle's avatar
    Elle

    Very excited for you getting to Don Quixote! I read it in ’21 (during what may have been the third lockdown, we’d lost count by then) and found that almost-total immersion helped, as did a willingness not to try too hard to remember who was who or what was happening. Just let it unfold. I read the Sutherland translation and it looks like you’ve got Grossman, who’s meant to be amazing – I hope the humour comes through.

    Re. the broader cultural narrative about reading being virtuous vs feminine-coded in the bad way, this is of some interest to my PhD thesis! I think a short and not entirely misleading answer (you learn to frame things like this when PhDing) is that historically, the relative virtue of reading was about what *kind* of reading you were doing. People, and women especially, reading philosophy, history, theology, and even poetry (particularly things like Shakespeare and Milton)? Elevating. Ennobling. Maybe a little bit masculine (especially if they went too deep on philosophy or natural history or mathematics) but basically a positive, active use of your brain. People, and women especially, reading prose fiction? Suspect. Escapist. Feeble. I think the main difference in our own day is that, because reading has swung back to being seen as relatively uncommon (which is not borne out by, e.g., BookTok-driven purchasing statistics, but whatever), the cultural narrative is that it’s straightforwardly virtuous, and the content people are actually consuming when they read is barely part of the conversation at all.

  2. Rebecca Foster's avatar
    Rebecca Foster

    You’ve always been our most enthusiastic NovNov supporter! It’ll be a good antidote to Don Quixote.

    Mii hit me hard, too. I read a different Bélem over the summer and was somewhat underwhelmed.

  3. volatilemuse's avatar
    volatilemuse

    I think 8/10 is really good. DQ is a big reading event. They should hand out medals. I’ve never made it through to the end but I hope you do Laura. Yes reading novels used to be considered the complete opposite of edifying – maybe because we are supposed to be working through ten volumes of poetry or Aeschylus in translation (!). Which sounds really exhausting.

  4. Liz Dexter's avatar
    Liz Dexter

    I had to buy a lot of different editions of DQ in different languages for the academic library I used to work for and it put me off it!! Well done on getting your 10Books into NovNov – good work! I’m aiming for total overlap between NovNov and Nonfiction November in terms of paper books next month …

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