New Decade, New Booklist

While trying to convince myself that having a blog which is pretty much only ever updated once a year is somehow knowing and superior to those which are frequently added to, I conclude I am a proper loser and need to pull my finger out.

So my mid-January resolution – they tend to be more resolute than the ones made as midnight strikes into the new year and you’re (I’m) sick on your (my) hands – is to write more in here.

This is what I intend to write about:

– Books I’m going to read this year (see below)

– Comments on books I’ve particularly enjoyed reading this year and possibly a review of my preferred reads of 2009

– Bands and artists I may end up interviewing for Clash magazine

– My upcoming trip to Kabul. Didn’t you read in the latest broadsheet ‘top travel destination of 2010’? Yes, that cruise around land-locked Afghanistan is what every self-respecting adventurer is doing this decade. But more on that in another post…

So without further ado, here’s my book list for 2010.

John Fowles – The Collector: I adored the Magus so have bought a stack of his works at the second hand book stall on London’s southbank. I love his sparse writing style.

Margaret Atwood – Lady Oracle: This lady can do no wrong in my eyes. I hope this early novel of hers is as good as The Edible Woman.

Truman Capote – Breakfast at Tiffany’s: I was given Music for Chameleons in recent years by a rather special person and this Penguin version has one of the best book covers ever, a black and white photo of Capote dancing with Marilyn Monroe. He’s short and grabbing her hand in the most awkward manner, she’s looking away, absolutely dazzling. The contents of the book were just as luminous, so I thought I should try out one of his most famous works. Plus, I haven’t seen the film so I have minimal preconceived expectations.

Charles Dickens – The Pickwick Papers: Might as well read at least one book that’s pre-20th century. I have loads of Dickens books at home because I was intended to go to Oxford University and in my anticipation I bought most of the first fortnight’s reading list, which was an orgy of Dickens. I read Great Expectations and Oliver Twist when I was 12, so there is a big Dickens-shaped hole in my reading knowledge. Enough rubbish, crude euphemisms? I think so.

Yiyun Li – The Vagrants: Another gift from said special person. I have no idea what to expect, so I’m excited to read it. I love being given books that you haven’t asked for, by authors you know nothing about. It’s like someone’s handing you an experience to take away and cherish. Unfortunately, I’m pretty awful at giving books. I have two staples, ‘The Confederancy of Dunces’, which was a present to me, and one I adored so much it’s my default book gift setting – or at least it was until one of my giftees told me they hated it and couldn’t finish it. Another is Orwell: I give ‘1984’ if the person is a complete luddite who hasn’t read it already, or ‘Keep the Aspidistra Flying’ if they like pages of well-written depression and bleakness, as I do.

John Fowles – Daniel Martin: see above. This is a mighty tome, it’s almost Magus-like. Perhaps one for the Kabul visit.

Paul Auster – The New York Trilogy: One that’s on my unwritten, semi-conscious ‘Books I Must Read
Before I Die’ list, along with many, many other titles, the most solid one being ‘War and Peace’, which I must tackle soon – perhaps in 2011. Like Breakfast at Tiffany’s, I know the title but have no idea what to expect. This is my first Paul Auster as well – double excitement.

Gunter Grass – The Rat: The Tin Drum was one of my favourites of 2009. Definitely the best book I’ve ever read about a midget with a fixation for banging on a children’s toy. Unfortunately I read a ‘spoiler’ – if you can call an event from a book celebrating it’s 50th anniversary that – in the Observer Review so I knew about one of his relationships with a female character before I discovered it in the novel. Ach well. I bought The Rat in a jumble sale for mere pennies and I look forward to seeing what Grass has in store for me.

Yevgeny Zamyatin – We: This is the first of my purchases from a well-known high street bookstore where I’ve been sucker-punched into buying a book I know nothing about, solely on the personally written recommendation from one of the staff members. Yes, they do work. Maybe because it’s so nice to see someone handwritten. Apparently it influenced Orwell and it’s one of the key dystopian texts so I may be in for a treat.

Iris Murdoch – The Nice and the Good: I bought this in a charity shop for about 20p years ago, and it’s been kicking around at home for ages. I’ve never read any of her stuff – our family copy of The Sea, The Sea is covered in mould after a burst water pipe drenched a bookshelf and this was one of the main casualties. Perhaps the title singled it out for a soaking.

Albert Camus – The Outsider: I HATED The Rebel. It was my least-favourite read of 2009, hands down. But then I should have known that rambling political philosophical texts and I are never going to have a happy relationship. I’m giving Al another chance this year with this one.

Aldous Huxley – The Island: In my mind I’m going to have pets – or children, I haven’t figured out yet how much I want to subject my offspring to bullying  – named after my favourite writers. I like the idea of two black labs called Orwell and Huxley.

Umberto Eco – Foucault’s Pendulum: A big fat ginger cat called Umberto would be pretty cool too. I imagine it would look pissed off all the time. I’ve been meaning to tackle this for ages, along with Faith in Fakes, of which I’ve really enjoyed sections but haven’t read it from start to finish yet.

Nathanael West – Collected Works: I bought this while studying English Lit at Edinburgh because The Dream Life of Balso Snell was on a reading list. Due to poor organisational skills I skim-read the story en route to the lecture, so I feel the need, over a decade on, to return to it and read a wedge of West’s works while I’m at it.

Margaret Atwood – The Year of the Flood: See above.

Vladimir Nabokov – The Original of Laura: This is a weighty tome. I wonder when I’ll get the chance to read it, seeing as I don’t normally lug around suitcases to work. Possibly another for Kabul I feel.

Maria Tatar – Enchanted Hunters, The Powers of Stories in Childhood: The one and only factual book in my reading list, which yes I admit is poor show, but I will try harder for next year, how about that? I’d like to get my hands on some modern British history books, that’s a subject that tops a very long list of subjects I’m completely ignorant about. I read about this text in the Guardian and thought it looked interesting, especially as I view some of my favourite books from my childhood – Teddy Robinson, anything by David Henry Wilson, Malory Towers – with a misty-eyed nostalgia that is pathetic.

David Eagleman – Sun: The second of my bookstore purchases on the back of a staff member’s recommendation. It’s about death. Not one for Kabul.