My September in reading
I love the unpredictability of September. Will it burn like Summer? Will it bluster like Fall? My reading list for the month is similarly changeable. (Side note: We should bring back the word “changeable.” They use it all the time in Victorian novels to describe characters’ personalities, and it does the job admirably, in my opinion.)
All Heathens by Marianne Chan
I may be biased, because Marianne is a friend, but I think this book of poetry is remarkable. I am sure this is not how Marianne wrote it, but it feels like she read a history book and then dreamt of The Philippines, the past and present and personal and global all mashed together, and wrote it down the next morning. The language is mostly plain, which should ground the poems, make them realist, but instead makes the imagery more surreal. Loved this collection.
The Endless Summer by Madame Nielsen
Written by a trans(?)* Danish author, The Endless Summer is like reading a landscape painting. The title tells you exactly what you’re going to get. A group of teens spend the summer together, while the mother has an affair with a young Portuguese visitor. Characters make decisions, take actions, but mostly the novel is about feeling the summer in question along with the characters. Personally, I prefer more plot-driven work, but the prose here was beautiful, and who doesn’t want the summer to last a little bit longer? If language- and image-driven work is your thing, you should absolutely pick it up.
Real Life by Brandon Taylor
I’ve had this on my shelf since March, but I knew it was a campus novel, so I waited until September to read it. Wallace is the only Black graduate student in the biochemisty program at his Midwestern campus, and throughout the novel he faces various microaggressions, and sometimes outright racism, as he tries to determine his place within the program and amongst his friends. To me, this is a book about pride—Wallace constantly has to swallow his pride in order to keep his place, to put others at ease. It’s a subtle, quiet story, with bold punches throughout. I really enjoyed it.
The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin
Unlike everyone else on the planet, I did not read this book as a child. So I was a little worried; without the nostalgia factor, would The Westing Game hold up? I am pleased to report that this jigsaw puzzle of a novel absolutely held up, and then some. I was enthralled and delighted with the characters’ quest to solve Sam Westing’s riddles and win his fortune. I spent two mornings devouring it.
Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City by Matthew Desmond
Are you looking to become so angry that you’re tempted to chuck something heavy across the room? Evicted is the book for you. For years, sociologist Matthew Desmond lived in a poor trailer park on Milwaukee’s south side with mostly white residents, as well as Milwaukee’s predominately Black, blighted neighborhoods on the north side, and followed the lives of residents—renters and landlords alike—to demonstrate how it’s often nearly impossible for those who are evicted to get their lives back on track. From the courts to nonprofits, American society makes eviction easy and ensures that it’s devastating to families. This book set my brain on fire.
We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson
EERIE AF. I literally couldn’t put it down—I read the entire thing in one evening. From the opening paragraph, everything about the book is just unnervingly off. Merricat says she’s 18, but acts like a much younger girl. She walks around town wishing death on all her neighbors. Something horrible has clearly happened to her family, but nobody will say what. It’s a perfect little thriller. Also, let’s be real: Merricat and Constance are shelter-in-place goals—frightening the neighborhood children, living off the food in their garden, wearing tablecloths.
American Salvage by Bonnie Jo Campbell
My friend Tim has been trying to get me to read this book of short stories for years, and I finally did it! I must recommend this one if you’re a Midwesterner—most of the stories take place in Michigan. Most of them are pretty tragic, too—meth and death abound. Nevertheless, as a Midwesterner myself, I couldn’t help but recognize these characters as my people. I think my favorite in the collection was the last story in the book, “Boar Taint.” Despite what the title may suggest, it was actually more hopeful than some of the others.
I also started reading Donna Tartt’s The Little Friend, but I had to put it down—I really enjoyed her other books, but I can only take so much backstory. I read over 200 pages, and it was almost all backstory. Yikes.
*Madame Nielsen uses she/her pronouns, but I’m not sure that she identifies as transgender? I’d need to do more research—in the meantime, here’s more information on her background.