Pleasures of Reading, 2022 edition
by Lisa Tuttle
This year, like last, I have mostly been reading the new and forthcoming books sent for review: I write a monthly genre round-up for The Guardian, so they are all SF, Fantasy or Horror. I can include four to six books, max, in the space I’m given. Sometimes books I would like to review are assigned to someone else (really big-name authors, the occasional much-hyped debut or literary crossover, etc) and sometimes I just miss things I wish I hadn’t. But there’s never enough time to read everything I’m interested in. I squeeze in other reading when I can. So far, I have read ninety books this year. While I do enjoy most of what I read for review, it’s not the same as “reading for pleasure,” so I thought I’d divide this piece into two parts: the most memorable/enjoyable books among those I’ve reviewed, followed by the best of those I chose to read. Both lists are roughly in the order that I read the books.
I.
The This by
Adam Roberts (Gollancz) Inventive, exciting, compulsively readable blend of extrapolation,
current concerns, and deep philosophical questions
Lamda by David Musgrave (Europa) SF, fantasy, or metaphor for modern British life? Sometimes funny, always wonderfully weird
The Kaiju Preservation Society by John Scalzi (Tor) This adventure with gigantic monsters on an alternate earth is great fun
Woman, Eating by Claire Kohda (Virago) Young mixed-race artist in London also happens to be a vampire in this distinctive contemporary treatment of the horror trope
Book of Night by Holly Black (Cornerstone) I was absolutely blown away by this very grown-up, grim, dark urban fantasy from a writer beloved for her books for younger readers (none of which I’ve read)
The Black Maybe by Attila Veres, tr. Luca Karafíath (Valancourt) Brilliant original horror stories from a Hungarian author
Beyond the Burn Line by Paul McAuley (Gollancz) Wonderfully imagined, compelling mystery involving first contact, set in a far future, post-Human world
Dark Arts by Eric Stener Carlson (Tartarus Press) Since I’ve only just finished reading this, it may be too soon to declare it a best of the year, but I was impressed by this thoughtful, well-written collection of strange stories
II.
The Friend by Sigrid Nunez (2018, Virago) Forced to cull some of the books from our groaning shelves, I came across this, which I hadn’t read. I couldn’t remember why I’d bought it, but could not possibly get rid of something I had not at least started to read, so… and once I started it, I was hooked. I fell in love with this wonderful book about grief and coping with grief, love and friendship, and a dog, but it is also very much about being a writer, about reading and writing and the shifting, indeterminate borders between fact and fiction. I probably bought it four years ago because it got loads of great reviews and won the National Book Award. I am so glad I did.
Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel (2014) OK, I am very late coming to this party; cannot even remember how many people have recommended it, or how long it has been languishing unread on my Kindle, and I don’t know why I had the idea that it wasn’t really going to be my sort of thing, so I resisted reading it for a long time, but I finally decided to give it a go and….what can I say? It totally is my kind of thing. I loved it so much that I have now bought two more books by Emily St John Mandel – maybe I will find the time to read them in 2023.
Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake (2020) This was a present from a friend who correctly guessed I would appreciate it. It’s a non-fiction exploration of the world of fungi, a fascinating and informative look at mushrooms and others of that ilk, and that whole world is weirder than I could have guessed. Mushrooms have often featured in SF, fantasy and horror – more than ever these days, I suspect -- but the truth really is stranger than fiction.
A Heart so White by Javier Marías, tr.Margaret Jull Costa (1992, 1995) I’ve been a big fan of Javier Marías since I first read All Souls almost twenty years ago, and have been gradually reading all his books. I decided to take this one along on our family holiday to Barcelona in September. The day we arrived, I saw the headlines in the Spanish papers: Javier Marías was dead. This was a big shock, not only because he’s one of my literary crushes (and someone who, probably unreasonably, I had imagined I might meet someday) but because he was a great writer, and barely a year older than me. Too young! The chill wind of mortality blew down my neck. But on to this book – I loved it, as I have loved the others, but I am never sure if I can safely recommend it to other readers unless I know them well. His style is very distinctive, repetitious, deliberate and sinuous. One page early in the book made me smile, thinking that this was the sort of writing that would divide readers, either making her sigh happily (like me), and sink deeper into it, or, for another kind of person, snort with annoyance and give up.
Treacle Walker by Alan Garner (2021) As one of my friends on Facebook remarked,”It’s very Alan Garner.” True, but there are variations as to what that means. I have been a fan of his since I first read The Owl Service, way back when. Then I sought out his earlier fantasies, which I likewise loved, and when it came along, Red Shift, although more difficult, became another favorite. But after that, I did not always respond with the same level of fascination, and at least one of his more recent books I found almost incomprehensible. But this one, which is very short, simple yet invested with mythic power, is, for me, up there with The Owl Service.
Lisa Tuttle began writing professionally in the 1970s. Although she also writes novels and non-fiction, her preference is for the weird short story. Her most recent collection is The Dead Hours of Night (Valancourt, 2021), but she has three books scheduled for publication in 2023: from Jo Fletcher Books, The Curious Affair of the Missing Mummies, the third in her supernatural mystery series set in London of the 1890s; from Valancourt, Riding the Nightmare, a new collection of short stories, and, in NYRB’s “Classics” series, her 2004 novella My Death, previously published by Aqueduct Press (number 21 in the Conversations Pieces list). She lives in a forest on the west coast Scotland.
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