1) Lost in the Funhouse, John Barth
The second half; I started it right after Christmas 2015. I liked the Ambrose stories way better than the mythology stories.
2) Ezra Pound: Poet, Vol. I, A. David Moody
Detailed, a little stodgy, very partisan, which aspect I infer will get more interesting as Our Hero’s behavior worsens in subsequent years. Worthwhile.
3) The Fugitives, Christopher Sorrentino
I’m friendly with Christopher and I’ll still say I can objectively call this a superb novel.
4) Fifty-Two Pickup, Elmore Leonard
Primary motivation for reading was research for an audio commentary on the movie, but a genuine pleasure.
5) Black Wings Has My Angel, Elliott Chaze
First rate girl-gun-grief-guilt stuff. One of the better armored-car heist sequences ever set on paper.
6) The Ivory Grin, Ross Macdonald
My first Lew Archer. Wasn’t entirely crazy about it.
7) Giles Goat-Boy, John Barth
I was crazy about The Sot-Weed Factor when I read it in 2015, so much so that I was very eager to tackle this, and my oh my was I disappointed. I have to give Barth credit: when he woolgathers, he does it on an epic level. But imagining the gargantuan campus that he was then employed by as the metaphor-laden locale for an allegory of the American Experiment in Oppression was maybe not the best way to go with his fancies.
8) Better Living Through Criticism, A.O. Scott
I gather a lot of people were irritated by my colleague’s disinclination to dictate definitive answers to the questions he raises herein, instead building varied dialectical structures around them. I enjoyed the whole thing and continue to be stimulated/challenged by it.
9) High Rise, J.G. Ballard
Essential then, essential now.
10) Apostle, Tom Bissell
Tom’s book is written in a conversational style that sometimes seems a little at odds with the philosophical and informational density he brings to bear on his stories of visiting the supposed resting places of the twelve apostles of Jesus Christ. Many years in the making, worth the wait.
11) The Deep Blue Good-By, John D. Macdonald
My first Travis McGee. I was not impressed. Indifferent “realistic” plotting, poor fun-to-squalor ratio, too heavy on the self-infatuated sexism. Someone tells me when this series gets better than this.
12) Petersburg, Andrei Bely
I guess if I’d read this when I was 24 and had Vladimir Nabokov’s raves about it fresh in my head, I might have been blown away. Instead I waited until now and found it a bit of a slog, its innovations having been adopted and refined in subsequent modernist works I like a lot better.
13) My Antonia, Willa Cather
My first Cather. All killer, no filler. Eager for more.
14) Norwood, Charles Portis
One of two Portises I’ve been sitting on because I don’t want to be done with his novels so soon. (Norwood is his first novel, the other one I’m sitting on, Gringos, is his most recent.) Anyway, it’s perfect. As I expected.
15) Zero K, Don DeLillo
Really strong. Prime DeLillo. Guy’s still got it.
16) The Way Some People Die, Ross Macdonald
My second Lew Archer. Liked it pretty much just fine.
17) Leaving the Atocha Station, Ben Lerner
Wound up finding this very worthwhile despite the exceptional punchworthiness of the lead character.
18) Gaza Wyoming, Seth Colter Walls
This funny, astute, sometimes Pynchonesque novel by my fellow critic and friend is worth seeking out.
19) Ratner’s Star, Don DeLillo
Its sometimes frustrating obliqueness is of course entirely deliberate. Very strong and unsettling.
20) Paths of Glory, Humphrey Cobb
I was asked to write a booklet essay for the Eureka!/Masters of Cinema Blu-ray edition of the Kubrick picture. After accepting, it occurred to me that it would be very difficult to write anything new about the movie. I went to the novel looking for a possible angle. It’s a really good book. And it was useful for my work.
21) Cosmos, Witold Gombrowicz
Re-read this work of genius the better to write about Zulawski’s film but there’s no bad time for this.
22) Eric Rohmer: A Biography, Antoine de Baecque and Noël Herpe
Rviewed here.
23) The Lost Weekend, Charles R. Jackson
Magnificent.
24) Lock No. 1, Georges Simenon
A good Maigret-versus-some-cranky-bastard tale.
25) Driver’s Seat, Muriel Spark
Good thing a woman wrote this rather than a young Martin Amis, because oh boy. This is not your Miss Jean Brodie’s Muriel Spark, although of course it kind of it.
26) The Siege of Krishnapur, J.G. Farrell
Pretty vivid and mordantly funny slab of Colonialism And Its Discontents action.
27) The Dalkey Archive, Flann O’Brien
Reliably bonkers.
28) Havana Blues, Leonardo Padura
Of interest for a number of reasons, particularly for its view of ordinary boomer life in Castro’s Cuba. I wanted more genre elements though.
29) Still Life, Louise Penny
Recommended by a family member; first in a series of village mysteries starring the unambiguously good and wise Inspector Gamache. Penny is smart and a diabolical plotter. Also a bit of an over-writer. If I were her editor all three of the books of hers I’ve read this year would be at least 20 pages shorter. Then again, I’ve read three and intend to continue, so…
30) Stoner, John Williams
Williams’ Augustus was my icebreaker. And yeah this is everything everybody says it is.
31) Caught Stealing, Charlie Huston
Frantic, funny, well-constructed, it gets more absorbing as it gets more ridiculous. And it gets REALLY ridiculous.
32) The Death of Napoleon, Simon Leys
A droll parable.
33) Book of Numbers, Joshua Cohen
Huge talent, sometimes bad judgment, best when dealing with death.
34) Alice James: A Biography, Jean Strouse
Spectacular, read it.
35) Butcher’s Crossing, John Williams
Spectacular, read it.
36) The Crying of Lot 49, Thomas Pynchon
See 34 and 35.
37) The First Administration of Thomas Jefferson, Vol. 1, Henry Adams
A bit laborious but largely fascinating, not least for Adams’ unabashed love for TJ.
38) The Skin of Dreams, Raymond Queneau
A short, piquant, satisfying Queneau
39) The Sunday of Life, Raymond Queneau
See 38.
40) Actress in the House, Joseph McElroy
Not so much stream of consciousness as fractals of consciousness. Indescribably dense and sometimes maddeningly frustrating. A remarkable thing in any event.
41) The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne, Brian Moore
You’ll never guess. Okay, maybe you will. Scruplously bleak.
42) The Last of the Clan McDuck, Don Rosa
Great Duck stuff.
43) American Pastoral, Philip Roth
I’d read all of the late Roth except this, for whatever reason, so when a publicist jammed up my ability to see the movie for a week, I thought I’d fix that issue. I think I would have loathed the movie even without having read the book, which I was both dazzled and a bit flummoxed by, but reading the book sure helped me particularize my complaints about the movie.
44) Dog Eat Dog, Edward Bunker
Another reading-in-preparation for a film review. I knew of Bunker, and I knew what a hit-or-severely-miss proposition a real-life-felon-writes-crime-novel move can be, so I was pleasantly surprised at what a knockout this book is. Added value is its genuine soulfulness, which the movie adaptation decided to jettison.
45) A Fatal Grace, Louise Penny
See 29. The second in the series.
46) Hellfire, Nick Tosches
This is another case of me depriving myself of a legendary book until whenever, and so whenever came and I read the legendary book and lo, it was pretty great.
47) My Struggle Book 1, Karl Ove Knausgaard
Very good, liked the second half (cleaning up after dead alcoholic father) better than the first, still in all I’m somehow less than eager to tackle the second book which I’m told is him mooning over wife the second at inordinate page count.
48) Troubles, J.G. Farrell
A quite unusual historical novel, this one set in Northern Ireland, which I did not like nearly as much as Seige of Krishnapur.
49) Notes on the Cinematographer, Robert Bresson
and…
50) Bresson on Bresson, edited by Mylene Bresson
…are reviewed here.
51) The Jewish Question, Jean Paul Sartre (translated as Anti-Semite and Jew)
Essential reading for 2017, for obvious reasons; see also my thoughts on it here.
52) The Strangers in the House, Georges Simenon
I’ve read a lot of Simenon and it’s still just a fraction of his output so I’m not qualified to say this is the closest thing to a redemption story in his oeuvre, but it’s the closest to a redemption story that I’ve read.
53) The Cruelest Month, Louise Penny
See 29 and 45. Third in the series.
54) Wolf Pupy Storys, “Wolf Pupy”
Purports to be stories by a five-week-old wolf puppy and who am I to argue.
55) The Life And Legend of Wallace Wood, Vol. 1, edited by Bhob Stewart
I’m a sucker for chain-smoking alcoholci genius comic artists so yeah. Lotsa good pictures.
56) Home, Marilynne Robinson
An unspeakably beautiful book.
57) The Plague, Albert Camus
More prepping for 2017. About halfway through now…
Happy New Year to all readers everywhere.
Reading Black Wings Has My Angel myself right now, as it so happens. Have had a bizarrely tough time getting into it despite the fact that this sort of thing is usually my catnip. But also haven’t had much time to devote to it so I’m putting any issues on me, not the book.
Damn this sure makes me feel disappointed in my own reading for 2016. As I’d like to up my game for 2017, I’ll ask you (Glenn) how many hours you spend reading every day, and if you have any tips on how to avoid or resist distraction while reading?
And just to give my unsolicited comments on a few of the items on your list..
Charles Portis is my favourite writer and his 5 novels would likely take up the first five spots on my list of the “Top 10 Greatest Books of All Time Excluding All the Books I Haven’t Read.” Austin Popper from “Atlantis” might be my favourite literary character, and I haven’t felt as much pleasure reading a novel as I did finishing “The Dog of the South.” “Gringos” is a little weightier than the rest, and you can understand how he stopped writing after finishing it. I’m forever grateful to the Coen Brothers for introducing me to Portis, among many other things.
Had the same response to “The Deep Blue Good-By.” Actually, that book kind of deals with the same cultural tension as “The Dog of the South,” but with brutal moralism in lieu of Portis’ irony and ambiguity. The prospect of a Travis McGee film series does not excite me in the least.
Bought a lovely edition of “The Sot-Weed Factor” after reading your Gawker article on difficult books. Looking forward to reading it, but I feel I should read “Tom Jones” first.
Some of my favourite personal reading of 2016:
“The Monk” by Matthew Lewis and “The Life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr” by E.T.A. Hoffmann. As a narcissistic millennial I’m consistently surprised by the formal sophistication of boring old novels. Want to get my hands on the Bunuel-scripted “Monk” adaptation: do you (Glenn) know if it’s any good? (If you’ve read this far.)
“Saviours and Survivors” by Mahmood Mamdani. Currently reading this account of how the Darfur conflict was over-simplified and racialized by the Save Darfur movement in the U.S., to the benefit of the U.S. narrative of “The War on Terror” but not particularly to the benefit of any Darfurians. Really glum book, but passionately argued by Mamdani.
Oh and I forgot, Happy New Year and thanks for the blog!
Marilynne Robinson is probably the best living American author. Housekeeping and Bill Forsyth’s film adaptation are both masterpieces. Not crazy about Barth or Giles Goat-Boy, which has good ideas, but has some seriously grotesque racism in it
Also read Stoner this year and agree with your assessment. I’ll take your advice and check out Butcher’s Crossing. Happy New Year.
You may have been less than impressed with the Lew Archer novels (I re-read Black Money last year when it was reported that the Coens may be adapting it; I found myself unsure why that novel out of his opus, as it may have less of the generational observation which I think of as Macdonald’s hallmark), but your second review of him has mimicked his prose style quite successfully.
Happy 2017!
Regarding Simenon, I’ll recommend you another of his non-Maigret novels, “The snow was dirty”, since it’s a quite clear-cut redemption story.
Can’t wait until January is over and all the buzzworthy films of 2016 (“Toni Erdmann”, “Silence”, “Manchester-by-the-sea”) get released here in my country, and I can start delving into the reviews in depth.
@PaulJBis
Yeah. I read Simenon’s Dirty Snow this past year, (on Glenn’s recommendation), and thought it was was absolutely fucking fantastic.
I’m hoping to find similar non-Maigret Simenon novels. Glenn recommended one, but it’s out of print, and I avoid used, old books when possible cuz of allergies.
Similarly, I’m curious about Patrick Modiano, who writes about a similar milieu to Dirty Snow, but from a very different POV. I’ve read some good stuff about him, but yet to dive in.
Glenn,
You should really read Portis’ Gringos. Not only is in obviously great, but we live in a new world. If you wait, your final though when Trump fires off the nukes will be, “Damn, I should’ve read Gringos”.
And yeah, 52 Pickup is terrific. It was the first Leonard I read as a teen. And when I went though every one of the ’74-’92 Leonards as an adult, it was close to the top of my faves. I’ve had the film stuck unwatched on my DVR for 2 years now, cuz I’m scared I’ll hate it due to loving the book so much.
Peter: ooooh, Modiano is great, really great. He’s been one of my favorite writers for many years, and I’m so glad that more people are finally getting to know him. I’ll recommend “Honeymoon”, “Une jeunesse” and specially “Dora Bruder”.
As for Simenon, “The man who watched the trains go by” is another of my favorites.
Oh I am sorry you didn’t love Bely’s Petersburg! I hope you at least read the wonderful Robert Maguire translation and annotation, not the other, less fun ones.
The scenes between the drunken bomber and the slightly less drunken Okhrana agent are what I always think of when people wonder if the FSB is running the Russian hacks. The answer seems to be “yeahhhhhhh… kind of.”
In the 7th grade, my gym teacher gave me his copies of John D. MacDonald’s novels–all the teachers knew I was a geek who loved mysteries and looked out for me. He said that they were his beach reading. Now that I look back on it, it was a daring move considering the content of the books–“Dress Her in Indigo” was delightful fun to my 12/13-year-old self.
I recall enjoying Travis McGee’s notion of taking his retirement in sections as he was able to afford them, and not paying much attention to the sexual (or other) politics (except that McGee had huge contempt for the city fathers of Fort Lauderdale–as a queer teen I enjoying McGee’s defiance of stricture). I started buying his books on my own with “The Scarlet Ruse” (MacDonald’s last paperback original–the cover got my father’s attention, though only now do I realize why). The novel I remember best and liked most was “The Dreadful Lemon Sky” which I recall having a strong plot. MacDonald lost me with “The Green Ripper.” I have been tempted to go back and re-read these novels, but never gotten around to doing so.
Ross MacDonald (who originally published as John Ross MacDonald much to John D.‘s annoyance) is another story. I have read each novel at least twice and some more times than that. I find “The Chill” to be the best of all the novels, and maybe the best crime/mystery novel novel written by an American in the 20th century. MacDonald captures the period between the close of WWII and the onset of the 1970’s with brilliance. The early novels are variations/responses to Chandler’s works (MacDonald is working his and Archer’s voices out), and it is fun to watch the evolution, especially with regard to queer characters and Archer’s response/reaction to them. As Archer says in a late book: he always looks for mercy, but keeps winding up with justice.
As for Willa Cather: indulge yourself in the Library of America’s volume “Later Novels” and read it straight through (used copies are constantly turning up at the Strand). As amazing/perfect as “The Professor’s House” is, “Death Comes for the Archbishop” tops it–my favorite love story. Cather and Ross MacDonald along with Faulkner are my favorite American novelists.
Last summer I decided to try some of John D. MacDonald’s non-McGee novels, as I’d never connected with the two-fisted he-man, and I’d picked up a number of them over the years when I found suitably lurid covers. Hit gold with the first two, but after that all the heroes turned out to be two-fisted he-men. Then I hit one where the hero laid out his mid-’60s political philosophy, and I was done.
I like Ross MacDonald very much, but have you read his wife, Margaret Millar? She’s the best! I’ve spent the last five years, scouring used-book stores, to find all of her work. Nearly got them all, just in time for a publisher to bring them back into print! I’d highly recommend the two volumes of Collected Millar so far, or scouring the used-book stores.
I’m placing several reserves at my library right now for books from your list! Thanks!
Awesome to see a Spark shoutout, as someone deeply invested in her work on both a personal and professional level. The Driver’s Seat marks a bit of a dividing line in my mind, as the next few novels that follow are very strange and disturbing, much more oblique in some ways than what has come before (though the book just before this, The Public Image, has a bit of the same nasty streak). At the same time you’re absolutely right that there’s still a core Sparkian ethos that connects the book back to her earlier era, as well as forward to works like Loitering with Intent.
Also had my first Cather encounter this year, though mine was with Death Comes for the Archbishop, which as Brian notes above is another killer book. I too intend to read more.
There’s a strange scene in “Holy Motors” that’s quoted almost verbatim from Margaret Millar’s “Beast in View.”
I discovered Muriel Spark (“The Takeover” and “Territorial Rights” were the start) in my teens along with Mary Renault and Iris Murdoch–I seem to have been drawn at the time to queer/quasi-queer women novelists (though I knew nothing of their sexuality back then). I will state though that I am amazed at how many authors I gravitated to in my teens later turned to be queer in one way or another. Nothing is (or can be) proved, of course, but I still marvel at the coincidence.
Spark was definitely disturbing as Asher notes, but also enjoyable–I had the sense of someone who enjoyed producing prose as precise as possible without any extraneous verbiage. At a moment when psychological explanations were the last things I needed or wanted, Spark was most helpful.
As for Margaret Millar: she is wonderful and for many years I was on a hunt similar to Bill’s for her books (her relative invisibility compared to her husband’s did not help the marriage).
My Antonia is a book I return to again and again. So rich.
Great to have you blogging into 2017.
I’m afraid the sexism of the Travis McGee books was very much a product of their time. The character was intended (like James Bond) as a wish-fulfillment fantasy figure for men. It’s been quite a while since I read the books; my memory is that they vary widely in quality.
My favorite John D. McDonald books are the non-series books he wrote in the ’50s and early ’60s, including “The Damned,” “The Neon Jungle,” “Cancel All Our Vows,” “Border Town Girl,” “The Executioners” (basis for CAPE FEAR) and “One Monday We Killed them All.” No shortage of pulp squalor on those books.
As for Ross MacDonald, I read all his books in college and loved them. Most of them I read more than once. But it’s been many years since I read them or owned any copies.
I just read Michael Tisserand’s essential biography of cartoonist George Herriman, “Krazy: George Herriman, a Life in Black and White.” This book – and the panels from the “Krazy Kat” – actually seem more cinematic than a lot of the movies I’ve seen lately!
I didn’t know that Herriman’s studio was on the Hal Roach lot in Culver city. A lot of the names seen in Roach movie credits – title writer H.M. Walker, sound engineer Elmer Raguse – were Herriman’s best friends.
And the book has quite a bit about race. Herriman was apparently a black or mixed-race person who spent his life “passing” for white. Which didn’t stop him from drawing blatantly racist cartoons early in his career.