How I Rebuilt my Relationship with Reading in 2019
High school English made me think that a truly well-read intellectual would know the ins-and-outs of all the great literary works before moving on to more modern pieces. This meant trapping myself in a genre that was inherently not-new and almost entirely written by a single identity type. So, shocker… things got repetitive. I struggled relating to Hemingway’s writing. I read Camus’ The Stranger and my takeaway was just “well, ok.” And when my partner caught me snoozing with Catch-22, barely opened, still in my hands, I finally reflected. Each of these books took me forever to read because I simply wasn’t that interested in them. Why was I trying so hard to force my way through them?
I set out to start reading with a new perspective, using two guidelines: (1) feel free to read more than one thing at a time, your brain can definitely handle it, and (2) if you’re struggling to finish a book because you just feel like you “should” finish it, and not because you want to finish it, close the book and find a new one. Without these rules, I’d been reading books as though they were still being assigned; despite genuine interest in what I’d get out of them, I treated reading like a chore. Allowing myself to shut Catch-22 unfinished and pick up something new was the first step of this major change.
Below is my ranking of the books I read in 2019, which taught me about varying cultures, world history, geopolitics, and philosophy. I had nearly forgotten just how fulfilling books can be. 2020 will definitely be a year of education, growth, and enrichment thanks to my rekindled love of reading.
11. What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami: I’m a novice runner, so I thought this would be right up my alley. It turned out to be a great bedtime book for inducing sleepiness. The truth is that running is therapeutic and rewarding for personal reasons which, when explained to others, are just not that interesting after the first few sentences. Otherwise, I hardly understand why it’s deemed a “memoir.” I’m pretty sure the only thing I learned about his past was that he had once owned a bar. I really wish he’d spent more time talking about his motivation and inspiration as a writer, and how running has played into those things, for him. Oh well.
10. After Dark by Haruki Murakami: It’s an incredibly brief read so I believe I knocked this one out in one night before bed. That may be why it didn’t stick with me as strongly as others. It’s still a compelling story with quirky moments that lead to great conversations after reading. Ultimately, though, it’s not the most memorable.
9. Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki and his Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami: I promise that Murakami also writes great books (and that other authors will be on this list). In fact, I quite liked this one, and this list was generally difficult to put into a ranking. But if I have to put this book somewhere, the tail-end of the list is the most-honest place. It’s got a fascinating build-up, but the conclusion is unsatisfying, and not in the “I wanted a happy-ending” kind of way. Basically, nothing much happens. In a sense, this made the story realistic and thus relatable. But compared to Murakami’s other works, I’d say this was, well, colourless.
8. Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: I heard about this book when I happened to see a clip of Adichie on The Daily Show with Trevor Noah. She is captivating, eloquent, thoughtful — I can only imagine how much her sales skyrocketed, because anyone listening to her then should have immediately wanted to hear more from her. Americanah strives not to over-explain every aspect of Nigerian culture, the immigrant experience, and all the related politics to a potential western/white audience. It does so by making the book about these things, such that the explanation comes organically from the story itself, and only when needed. Still, to me, some parts seemed to do a bit too much, not having faith in the reader’s ability to pick up context clues (which may be a smart call in the grand scheme of things). Okay, fine, the real reason this isn’t higher on the list is I just didn’t like the ending, alright? So maybe not fair to Adichie . . . because her writing is so great, I definitely intend to read more of her work!
7. The Fisherman by Chigozie Obioma: A wild ride from start to finish, this book is best described with one word: intense. Really, The Fisherman made my heart rate go up and kept me from sleeping some nights. It’s a fascinating story that’s so beautifully written, and I absolutely do recommend it. But its intensity also makes it a tad overwhelming — read a very lighthearted book before and after this one!
6. Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami: This was the first book I’d read by Murakami, and it is what led me to read so much more of his work. It’s endearing, clever, heartwarming, and heartbreaking. Warning: you may start, uh, questioning your sense of self after reading? Maybe? Don’t worry about it, it’s probably nothing . . .
5. Bitter Fruit by Stephen Schlesinger and Stephen Kinzer: Bitter Fruit was, for some reason, the first book I picked up when I decided to be more fluid and open with my reading choices. I believe Alexander was in the middle of his own copy, at the time, and I thought it would be great to start out with a book that I knew I could talk about with someone else. I did not exactly expect to be so stunned. Put bluntly, I do not know how anyone has faith in the United States’ own accounts of our foreign interventions, because time and time again, documents declassified far-too-late show that our plans were failures and our justification for trying them, a sham. If you are curious just how deep the evidence is about America’s pesky habit of meddling (to put it very, very lightly), this is one of the best books with which to start.
4. Young and Disaffected by Valencia Richardson: This author changed Louisiana state law as an undergraduate at LSU. Along with her team, she researched how to write and pass a law (no, not like a Google search — she spent WEEKS on this), gave presentation after presentation, fielded bad-faith interrogations from folks whose answer was already no, and ultimately convinced a red legislature to require all Louisiana Universities to have voter-compliant student IDs. Now, she’s studying law at Georgetown University. And as if all that wasn’t enough, she wrote a book, too. Young and Disaffected tells the story of young change-makers whose identities as Southerners defined and shaped their work. The most compelling parts, to me, elaborated on the feeling of the South as one’s home with zero shame. I think this story would be quite relatable for many reading this very review, so feel free to check it out yourself!
3. Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami: This story checks many boxes: action, mystery, crime, magic, love, family, gender, and the journey to self-acceptance. Yet each of those themes is quietly embedded into the story, such that it’s not exactly an action novel or a romance novel or any identifiable genre. It’s just a good story with protagonists for whom you care deeply. It’s clear from the beginning that there’s no way the story can end happily, and yet, that’s almost exactly what happens, in a way. Thought-provoking and impressive, overall.
2. An Orchestra of Minorities by Chigozie Obioma: Like The Fisherman, this book is indeed intense, but it’s not really the defining feature. An Orchestra of Minorities is impressively creative. By telling the story through the lens of the main character’s chi, or spirit guide, we get a 2-in-1 deal: a beautiful, tragic tale combined with a lesson on Igbo cosmology being told in the background. Both facets are well-constructed and absolutely enchanting. I genuinely believe Obioma has set himself apart as a great modern writer with this work, and I look forward to keeping up with his future works.
1.One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez: A classic, yes, but like nothing you have ever read before (unless you already read a lot of magical realism, but Márquez is largely credited with launching that genre into popularity!). I picked up this book on a whim and had no idea what I was getting into. Thanks to this book, I learned that I’m apparently a big fan of magical realism, especially when intertwined with my interest in cross-generational family stories. While the book’s general point about history’s repetition seems doom-and-gloom, there are many moments which make clear when the cycle could have been changed, and how, exactly, the characters failed to do so. This work also delicately tosses in how American capitalist ventures introduced chaos and accelerated the disintegration of native communities in Latin America; these moments are subtle and speak from the author’s experience, and they don’t interrupt the story to preach. Reminiscent of A Land Remembered, Márquez’s iconic One Hundred Years took me through decades of family growth, change, and trauma. A truly incredible story that should make it to everyone’s reading list.
