The Idiot, by Elif Batuman: Someone recommended this to me after reading my book-in-progress, though it would have been a delightful recommendation regardless. It’s my pick for my office holiday party book exchange.
A Man Called Ove, by Fredrik Backman: Very…treacly. Too twee for me, though I understand the appeal, I guess.
Underground Railroad, by Colson Whitehead: Brutal and brilliant. I LOVE the conceit of a literal railroad.
Prosperous Friends, by Christine Schutt: This was quick, captivating, and totally depressing.
The Story of the Lost Child, by Elena Ferrante: I finished this, the last of the Neapolitan novels, the same evening that I watched this season’s Rick and Morty finale, so I spent the remainder of my waking hours in existential despair. I want to reread the first two, but I think The Story of a New Name remains my favorite.
Man v. Nature, by Diane Cook: My former classmate’s short story collection–I LOVED this so much.
The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, by Sherman Alexie: I’d never read this before, but recently assigned it to my seventh-grade student. I’ve been having her track the repeated imagery having to do with transportation, outer space, and natural disasters throughout.
Shakespeare: The World as Stage, by Bill Bryson: I came around to this by the time I finished, though I found it a little thin. Bryson is a very likable narrator, but I wasn’t dying to get home and read it. Also, the type is really faint! My eyes…
Ghosts of the Tsunami, by Richard Lloyd Parry: Really amazing, though the word “amazing” feels wrong, of course.
The Vegetarian, by Han Kang: Technically still reading this one. It’s the perfect subway book in that it’s slim, but because it’s short, I feel I have to take another book with me in case I finish it…so I guess that negates its merits as a subway book.
