In chronological order.
The Plague, Albert Camus
I’m not generally one for useful literature, but in late 2016, while lunching with a friend, the question of material that could be sustaining during the then-impending Trump administration arose, and my friend recommended this and the Erich Fromm title below. Both were highly satisfactory in different ways. Camus’ rats are still swarming as I write.
Genius Jack, Thomas Wiseman
The screenwriter of The Romantic Englishwoman serves up what seems at first to be a roman à clef on Joseph Losey, which then morphs into a fantasia wherein the Losey figure directs a Spain-set variant of Apocalypse Now, or something Intermittently satisfactory.
Jimmy the Kid, Donald E. Westlake
Swell.
Mary Astor’s Purple Diary, Edward Sorel
Delightful.
Escape From Freedom, Erich Fromm
Useful. A little dry.
Amerika, Franz Kafka
Kafka, too, is particularly good reading for these times. This one’s pertinence seems a little oblique at first, but it’s there.
Avid Reader, Robert Gottlieb
Delightful. Motivated me to buy a few of the books he raved about, two of which I got around to this year. Excellent subtweeting of Elizabeth Wurtzel.
The Dreadful Lemon Sky, John D. MacDonald
I liked this better than the other Travis McGee I read, so maybe I’ll look into the franchise again soon.
A Rule Against Murder, Louise Penny
Born To Run, Bruce Springsteen
The Brutal Telling, Louise Penny
Aqua Viva, Clarice Lispector
Never read a Lispector I didn’t like, at least not yet.
The Circle, Dave Eggers
I put down A Legacy in the middle to read this in about 24 hours, in preparation to review the film.
A Legacy, Sybille Bedford
This is one of the book Gottlieb raves about, and it is faboo.
Hitler: Ascent, 1889–1939, Volker Ullrich
Boy, this fucking guy, right?
The Soft Machine, William S. Burroughs
Huck Out West, Robert Coover
Coover is probably my favorite living author but when I saw the premise for this one I flinched a little. I ought not have, it’s really wonderful.
Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI, David Grann
The Show That Never Ends, Dave Weigel
I can’t say I was disappointed but in many respects I felt like I was reading a well-organized retelling of a story I already knew well. Because I was, I guess.
Bresson on Bresson: Interviews 1943–1983, Mylene Bresson, editor
“The Meek One” (Dostoevsky short story, in The Eternal Husband, translated by Pevear and Volokhonsky)
Was inspired to read this after seeing Bresson’s Une femme douce in a rare NY screening, then reading the director’s account of how he adapted the Dostoevsky text. A worthwhile exercise.
Bury Your Dead, Louise Penny
A Trick of the Light, Louise Penny
Falstaff, Harold Bloom
The Songs We Know Best: John Ashbery’s Early Life, Karin Roffman
Fantastic, can’t recommend highly enough.
A Nest of Ninnies, John Ashbery and James Schuyler
The Bad Popes, E.R. Chamberlin
Not as juicy as the title suggests but pretty hot stuff anyway. I like when Chamberlin gets huffy over his own interpretation of the history, which boils down to “If these guys hadn’t been so lousy, we wouldn’t have had to deal with this schmuck Martin Luther.”
The Disaster Artist, Greg Sestero and Tom Bissell
I’m biased due to my long association with the co-author but I think, much-bruited entertainment value aside, it’s a really good book on Hollywood and filmmaking.
Devil’s Bargain, Joshua Green
Slight but useful account of how Caltiki, the Immortal Monster helped elect the current president.
The Animal Factory, Edward Bunker
I read this in preparation for writing the booklet essay for a Blu-ray of Steve Buscemi’s excellent 2000 film adaptation. Dynamite book. Bunker was remarkable.
From Reverence to Rape, Molly Haskell
I read the first edition in the ’70s, the new third edition expands and doubles down on some of the more provocative propositions of the author, which I find bracing to say the least.
Cards of Identity, Nigel Dennis
Company of Heroes: My Life as an Actor in the John Ford Stock Company, Harry Carey, Jr.
I’ve had this for a while and I don’t know why I took so long to read it but it’s spectacular. Plain-spoken, frank, affectionate but unsentimental. One of the best books on Ford, and on the process of making a picture.
Shadowbahn, Steven Erickson
What Zeroville did for/with movies, this does for/with music. Dizzying in its implications and perceptions.
Jesus’ Son, Denis Johnson
Great.
Caught, Henry Green
Great.
Maigret’s Memoirs, Simenon
Letterman: The Last Giant of Late Night, Jason Zinoman
Really good on the man, his times, and television in general. The author’s affection for his subject doesn’t inhibit him from dealing with failures both professional and personal. A zippy read, too.
Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin
Aside from the genius of the writing, Baldwin’s ability to balance what he wanted to say against what the publishers of the time were willing to risk constitutes an almost equal achievement.
The Death of Stalin, Fabien Nury and Thierry Robin (graphic novel)
My Heart Laid Bare, Charles Baudelaire
Small Town Talk, Barney Hoskyns
The Trial, Franz Kafka
The Beautiful Mystery, Louise Penny
How The Light Gets In, Louise Penny
Trajectory, Richard Russo
Temperament: The Idea That Solved Music’s Geatest Riddle, Stuart Isacoff
The Anti-Death League, Kingsley Amis
Sleeping Beauties, Stephen King and Owen King
David Bowie: A Life, Dylan Jones
The Unknown Masterpiece, Honoré de Balzac
Lila, Marilynne Robinson
The most confoundingly moving in Robinson’s trilogy, I thought. Also, I do not think there is a single adverb in it.
Waging Heavy Peace, Neil Young
Everything is Combustible, Richard Lloyd
The Portage to San Cristobal of A.H., George Steiner
Wasn’t too crazy about all the jungle stuff but the closing speech is, um, striking for sure.
A High Wind in Jamaica, Richard Hughes
I admired more than enjoyed. Although its mercilessness was salutary.
Backstage Passes & Backstabbing Bastards, Al Kooper
Of all the first-person rock memoirs/autobiographies I read this year, this was the most entertaining. Springsteen’s book is splendid and indeed a piece of Real American Literature. Kooper’s straight-ahead volubility (which coexists peacefully with, or is perhaps explicitly tied into, his occasional and sometimes inadvertent revelations of knuckleheadedness) is more pure fun. Young’s book has a lot of moments but its discursiveness is a feature that sometimes bugs. And Lloyd starts off very strong but eventually falls victim to his insistence on philosophizing. Kooper just tells a lot of spicy stories (including one that both condemns and redeems Lynyrd Skynyrd, the favorite of his production charges) and imparts good nuts-and-bolts accounts of Rock Recording Greatness.
The Poor Mouth, Flann O’Brien
Funny. Lots of potatoes. A perhaps indirect influence on that Aer Lingus SNL sketch with Saorise Ronan that everyone got so het up about.
Personal History, Katharine Graham
Another of the Gottlieb Recommendations. That fact that I read it around the same time as I saw The Post is maybe half-coincidental. Interesting on many levels, not least the autobiography-of-a-member-of-the-ruling-class one.
The Long Way Home, Louise Penny
Dark Entries, Robert Aickman
Down Below, Leonora Carrington
Zama, Antonio di Benedetto
The Violins of Saint Jacques, Patrick Leigh Fermor
I am now in the middle of Insomniac Dreams, edited by Gennady Barabtarlo, after which I will start Alan Rode’s Michael Curtiz biography, which is large and which I will not finish before the new year, of which I wish you a very happy one.
Portage was mindblowing when read at an earlier age- wonder how much influence it has had on trope of charismatic bad guy speeches? I also feel there is some affinity maybe between it and Umberto Eco in a way I haven’t tried to put my finger on. God, I need to read something and get off of Twitter.
I’ve been keeping my own Soderberghian list of all the media I consumed this year, and while reading this I assumed we wouldn’t have a single book in common…
…and then I saw Giovanni’s Room, which I’m currently at page 150 of. Really great stuff. I’ve had it on my shelf for a while but was inspired to finally crack it open after seeing Call Me By Your Name, however tenuous the connection between the two may be.
Also hoping to read If Beale Street Could Talk before Barry Jenkins’s adaptation comes out.
Any further comments on the Louise Penny books? Looks like it’s a series featuring the same detective character, I’m intrigued.
“The Dreadful Lemon Sky” is the peak McGee for me–there is a shape to the narrative that is often missing in other novels. The series never recovered for me after this one.
How many hours a day do you read, Glenn? I want to get through this many books in 2018.