Best Books of My 2024 Reading Year – Jan to March

I remain very impressed with Susan Osborne’s (better known as A Life in Books) way of summarising her reading year by seasons. You can read her Part One, Part Two, Part Three and even Part Four of her 2024 summary, and I hope she won’t mind that I’ll be stealing (I mean, of course, borrowing) her idea to summarise my own year, both in terms of reading and with other cultural events more generally. I didn’t have a target total number of books in mind, but as it happens, almost every section has roughly six books, and, perhaps unsurprisingly, most of them have been in translation (or other languages).

Part 1 covers January to March 2024, so of course it will skew heavily towards Japanese and French literature (January in Japan and French February). In fact, all of my favourite reads during this period were in translation, partly because I’ve found books in translation more interesting than the ones published in English and have therefore read far more of them.

My favourite Japanese reads were, unsurprisingly, by two favourite authors: Dazai Osamu’s The Flowers of Buffoonery (one I’d somehow never read before) and Tsushima Yuko’s Territory of Light (just as impactful upon rereading). For French literature, I was amused and exhilarated by the exuberance of Mathias Enard’s The Annual Banquet of the Gravedigger’s Guild and deeply impressed by the translation acrobatics of Frank Wynne. I also returned to one of my favourite recent women writers from France, Maylis de Kerangal, her novella Eastbound was translated this year but I read it in the French original.

I also got involved in the International Booker Shadow Panel, although most of the books on the longlist did not impress me all that much, but all three of our Shadow Panel winners made it to to the top of my reading list in March. These were: Not a River by Selva Almada, Kairos by Jenny Erpenbeck and White Nights by Urzula Honek.

It was also an extremely busy, happy and productive winter period, watching lots of films and plays, socialised with my sons and other friends, translated my first full-length novel from German, and even attended a memoir writing course, which I greatly enjoyed. Now that I’ve been blessed with a Kasper of my own, I had to rewatch The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser, of course, one of Werner Herzog’s great films. My greatest ‘event’, however, was leaving my day job at the university and choosing to work full-time on Corylus Books and other freelance projects. I miss my wonderful colleagues and the iconic building, which has appeared on film many times. It has not been the easiest of times financially (so if you know anyone looking for a translator or editor, or an executive coach or trainer, please point them to my For Hire page), but it has really been worth it in terms of health and stress levels.

International Booker – Shadow Panel Winner

It was a great honour and delight to be part of the Shadow Panel for the International Booker Prize this year – although, in retrospect, it was perhaps not the best year to be part of it, as many of us found the official judges’ longlist rather uninspiring. The theme seemed to be very firmly autofiction or, at the most, fiction that felt autobiographical, and, to be perfectly frank, there’s only so much self-indulgent prose I can take…

Our own shortlist differed from the official one. First of all, we only had five shortlisted titles instead of the standard six. Three of our choices also featured on the judges’ shortlist, but will our chosen winner match theirs?

Drumroll please!!!

Our winner is Selva Almada’s Not a River, translated by Annie McDermott, published by Charco Press, which scored 56 points with our shadow panel, being the top choice for five of our ten panellists and second choice for most of the remaining ones, I believe). A short, sparse novel about three men who go fishing on a river in Argentina, it ends up being about so much more, hovering between the past and the present, between the physical world and haunting memories or desires. A book I will certainly want to reread, especially since it was the last to arrive and be read for the longlist and I didn’t even get a chance to review it.

Here’s what the author says about the book:

Not a River is inspired by the territory where I was born and raised, by the people who inhabit that land and who, in many cases, were marginalized by neoliberal policies that condemn the majority to poverty and to an absence of minimum rights such as the right to work, to education and to health. This is my humble tribute to my land: to its rivers, its animals, its trees and the people who live in it.

Our runner-up (quite close as far as points go) was Jenny Erpenbeck’s Kairos, translated by Michael Hofmann, published by Granta Books, another remarkable story about the ghosts of the past – past relationships, countries that exist no more, cities that have been forever changed. This is a book I cannot be entirely objective about, as it feels very personal to me, but I had some thoughts about this on the lovely translation podcast run by Anil.

I love what the author has to say about the book:

How can something that seems right in the beginning, turn into something wrong? This transition interested me. It has a lot to do with language – since language is made to express feelings and visions as much as to hide or betray them. It can reveal something interior, and yet mislead people, or it can just be a blank surface. If you look at the details of what is spoken and where there’s silence instead, you’ll also be able to follow the invisible currents, the shifting power between generations, the techniques of manipulation and abuse.’ 

But I think our third-ranking title deserves an honourable mention as well, even if it didn’t make the official shortlist. It was certainly the longlist surprise that delighted most of us in the Shadow Panel. It seemed to come out of nowhere, from a tiny micro-publisher who didn’t even have sufficient print copies of it when the longlist was announced. A set of inter-connected stories in non-chronological order, which paint the portrait of a particular time and place, a rural community in Poland in the early 2000s. White Nights by Urszula Honek, translated by Kate Webster, published by MTO Press, is a poetic, moving, strange and exactly the kind of work that should be on the radar of translated fiction readers and prizes.

Latest Book Haul

The only expensive hobby I have (other than ordering mochi from the Japan Centre every few months) is book-buying. But sometimes I get lucky and have books given to me by friends. Here is a pile I acquired this month of April – a fairly normal rate monthly rate of acquisition, I would say.

From the top:

I enjoyed Antal Szerb‘s Journey by Moonlight so much that I ordered several of his other books that have been translated into English, but only this one Oliver VII has arrived thus far, a sort of Prince and the Pauper retelling.

I think Selva Almada’s Not the River got lost in the post when I first ordered it for the International Booker longlist reading, so I had to reorder it, and am very glad I did so, as it was one of my favourite reads from the longlist, and has deservedly been shortlisted too.

Three new books in Romanian published by Cartier, a publishing house from the Republic of Moldova, hand-delivered by the lovely journalist and author Paula Erizanu. Valentina Șcerbani’s Orașul Promis (The Promised City) and Lorina Bălteanu’s Legată cu funia de pământ (Tied with a rope to the earth) are stories of rural families, seen through the eyes of a child, while Gelu Diaconu’s Kaulas is the little-told story of growing up gay in Romania in the 1980s.

Strange, horror-tinged Korean stories appeal to me immensely, and The New Seoul Park Jelly Massacre by Cho Yeeun seems to fall nicely into this category.

To Hell with Poets by Baqytgul Sarmekova is probably the first book from Kazakhstan that I’ll be reading for our London Reads the World Book Club.

I was supposed to receive an ARC of The Extinction of Irena Rey by Jennifer Croft, but that too might have gone missing in the post. A book about translators in primeval forests in Europe by one of my favourite translators? I’ve heard the author speak about it too online. Bring it on! This one was very kindly passed on by my blogger friend from Lizzy’s Literary Life.

Kakuta Mitsuyo is a very popular author about contemporary Japanese women’s lives, but hasn’t been translated all that much into English. However, several of my blogger friends who are interested in Japanese literature have featured her, for example Tsundoku Reader.

Vincent and Theo: The Van Gogh Brothers by Deborah Heiligman I saw reviewed recently on The Scientific Detective’s blog – and, since I am so fond of Van Gogh’s work, I had to get it.

I have to admit that I am at that stage in my bookish love in which I need to get rid of books just as fast if not faster as I acquire them, for fear that it will cost a fortune to ship them abroad, and that I’ll have no room to store them in my much smaller next house (flat). Can I help it if I fall so easily into temptation – as soon as a publisher sends me a newsletter, as soon as I attend an event, as soon as I read a review? Although I use libraries extensively too, I have to repeat to myself: ‘You do not have to buy every single book that sounds interesting.’

Having said that, I might have a wander through the bookshops of Berlin as well next week.