- I’ll never stop finding books I want to read.
- Reading in this volume made me evaluate writing styles, plot directions, and stock characters in a new way.
- There are always new areas, regions, genres, sub-genres, publication forms, and other exciting things to be found. If you think “you’ve read everything”, you’ve not opened your mind to all the possibilities around you.
- Having a small community of avid readers in my space has made the world of difference. Especially as my reading family come at books in entirely different ways.
- I love talking and writing about books and I want to do that more.
- I enjoy giving books as much if not more than I enjoy buying books for me.
- Emotionally, I delineate between (1) “books I read for me”, (2) “books I read because I’m worrying about what other people think”, and (3) “books for work”. Sometimes, the intellectual pressure pile yields a gem, but I’d like to focus more on my joys in 2021.
- My learning disabilities are present rather than separate in my reading habits. I now understand better what does/does not hold my attention, when in the day I read most comfortably, what kind of writing asks me to find pictures in words rather than offers images easily, which fonts to avoid, that I get anxious reading books with very tight spines, etc.
- My triggers and gore thresholds have changed.
- I hate conventional book clubs but “buddy reading” – where I read at the same book around the same time as one or two other people – is great.
- There is, actually, a balance to “books bought” vs. “books read”. I do not enjoy being surrounded by too many books I haven’t read but I do need a range of choices.
- Shock realisation: I don’t want a big library of books unless I love them all. I am really unromantic about a book once it has been read. I’d like to think more about where the books I get rid of go to. I’d also like a designated “unread” bookcase (a small one), so I don’t keep finding things I haven’t read and stressing out.
- I am very fussy about the “Young Adult” literature I read and need to keep space between the different YA options I read to have the greatest enjoyment of them.
- I still love self-help books and I’m going to try to confront my internalised snobbery about the fact that I like reading about cleaning, wellness, and spirituality.
- I still need and love audiobooks. I wish my local library had a richer range of content.
- Long books can be a relief as well as a chore. I will definitely keep an eye out for a 500+ page novel in 2021.
- If a “classic” or venerated book doesn’t speak to me, I need to move on and not feel emotionally or intellectually negligent.
- I need to keep up my non-fiction reading because I value it but…
- I should maintain a 1:4 ratio of non-fiction to any other form because I read a lot of fragments of non-fiction when at work.
- READING FOR WORK COUNTS AS STILL “COUNTS” AS READING.
Perhaps the most interesting side effect of lockdown for me has been returning to reading in a big way. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been an avid reader forever, but I encounter extreme slumps as well as periods where reading just isn’t my preferred way to pass time. Unlike some people who didn’t feel like reading over the last few months, I have (perhaps counterintuitively) found getting back into books has helped me navigate living alone in a (relatively) new city where most of my friends live away. More than that, it helped me to understand the value of moving from computer screens to paper for me as a dyslexic person. I experience screen fatigue (including the TV) a long time before I experience word fatigue. The nights I have gone to bed at 21:00 with a book, I have almost universally slept better. Why? Because I ditch my phone and am really present in a low energy state, generally feeling chilled. I do audit what read before bed, but I also have very familiar audiobooks I listen to at night to counteract any triggering content.
I would love to tell you that this reading spurt has made me more decisive about what I read but that would be untrue. As we speak, I am “stuck” with a book I want to like, but find dull, and can’t quite commit to abandoning. This is really silly given that, when this happened during the alphabet challenge, I immediately picked up pace when I accepted that I was never going to “get” Marlon James’ A Brief History of Seven Killings. The writing is beautiful but after 15 minutes I would be fidgety and disengaged. In fact, it put me to sleep for one of my two naps in the last 18 months. I wanted to love it and be immersed. Almost all of my reading pals speak very highly of it, but truth be told, it just wasn’t for me. Maybe after writing this post, I will commit to hiding the volume by my bed, removing it from my Goodreads “currently reading” list, and see if I experience any inclination to return to it.
What else have I learned? I really, really enjoy a reading challenge that has very open parameters. I set myself a monumental task when I took on my own “Reading The Alphabet” challenge. I wanted to tackle my 100+ book To Be Read (TBR) pile and so I committed to read a book by authors with surnames beginning with every letter of the alphabet. I had to supplement here and there. (Thank God I did, because The Autobiography of Malcolm X was a standout read.) But I also got caught up in reading (1)in alphabetical order, (2) at least one fiction and non-fiction entry, and (3) [DON’T DO THIS] as many entrants per letter as possible. What should have been 26 books could have become fifty-two books plus any bonus “extra” reads. The problem here came when I hit A Brief History of Seven Killings. I had read lots of “heavy” books at this point and was really looking forward to a graphic novel a lot of letters away. Finally, I decided to “break” the order and read what excited me, which is perhaps the best lesson of this year. I also committed to skim the James in a 90-minute speed read and move on.
Not so long ago, I wrote a blog about my trepidations in approaching The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel because it was such a big book! All of my neurodivergence warning bells go off if I could hurt myself dropping a book, the word fatigue means it could take weeks, and it’s a dense story. HOWEVER, I am so glad I started my lockdown reads with it because (1) I loved it, (2) I managed it in a weekend, and (3) it prepared me to try out “bigger” books. I pre-ordered some hardbacks and for the first time in my life, am almost entirely on top of them where I would ordinarily reach for a paperback first. I have no idea how many more books I will read this year. I am loving doing The Black Book Challenge with Leighan so that is pushing me along. I have so many exciting unread titles in the house that I am on a real book buying ban for a while.
I thought I would end with a list of my highlights of 2020 so far. Note: these are books I have read in 2020, not necessarily books published in 2020. I hope you enjoy some of them, and I look forward to writing up many pending reviews.
P.S. I went to look at my Goodreads to compile this list and got very overwhelmed by how many of these books I really loved.
Hannah’s Reading Highlights so far:
- Pet by Akwaeke Emezi
- The Emperor’s Babe by Bernadine Evaristo
- Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan
- Trans Power by Juno Roche
- Asha & the Spirit Bird by Jasbinder Bilan
- The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel
- Heartstopper (Vols. 1-3) by Alice Oseman [ALL of the volumes are great]
- I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
- Flèche by Mary Jean Chan
- Body Positive Power by Megan Jayne Crabbe
- Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
- The Avant-Guards Vol. 1 by Carly Usdin
- The Unspoken Name by A.K. Larkwood
- The Autobiography of Malcolm X by Malcolm X
- The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett
- Dawn by Octavia E. Butler
- The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin
- Jazz by Toni Morrison
- The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi
- Such A Fun Age by Kiley Reid
- Emergent Strategy by adrienne maree brown
It’s a really strange time and we are all processing #SocialDistancing differently. Friends and colleagues will have noticed my increased presence on Twitter. I am mindlessly checking my email many, many times an hour and perpetuating my underlying anxieties. As a result, I have set myself some digital check out time every day. Sometimes I’m going to spend that time attacking my To Be Read pile. This is a (possibly short) chronicle of what I finish or abandon. Wherever I can, these reviews will be written immediately after finishing the book. These are not measured reflections. They are gut reactions.
Hilary Mantel. The Mirror & the Light. London: 4th Estate. 2020.
There are spoilers in this blog if you don’t have a rough grasp of the history of Thomas Cromwell, who was a Tudor politician that served Henry VIII. You have been advised.
Well, damn. I wrote a post about being a dyslexic reader and tackling long books, triggered by beginning The Mirror & The Light, which comes in at 875 pages. I think this ranks as one of my most taxing reads. It’s like spontaneously choosing to go on a really long run after a significant break. You want to do it and you know you are going to be happy afterwards even though you will hurt and your body is going to rebel. Your nose is going to run and your lungs are going to burn. If you read The Mirror & The Light in hardback form, your arm is going to hurt, your eyes are going to get tired, and if your neurodivergence is like mine, you are going to fight for every word, especially in the “dreams” and flashbacks, which I am giving you permission to skim.
What I love about these books is how vivid the characters are, even though you are given relatively little descriptive information about them. The Mirror & the Light has more laughs in it than the two before it but Mantel slowly builds a sense of foreboding throughout the book. We experience Cromwell get flustered and wrongfooted and doubt the signs even as more people tell him to mind the fall that is coming to him. Deliciously, Mantel slowly removes most of the characters that bring Cromwell comfort as we edge closer to the end of the book. Suddenly, Richard Cromwell (his son) is just a name and not a person. Suddenly, you’ve forgotten the name of Cromwell’s irascible cook. It’s delightful. Mantel also expands her style of dialogue when we come to the interrogations of Cromwell so it’s like being in a play or really great film. Think 12 Angry Men with ruffs. Sumptuous. My stomach still hurts from reading the final pages as we proceed to Cromwell’s execution. I could feel myself getting a tension headache as I read. What a feat this novel is.
With all three of Wolf Hall books, I find Mantel writes an appealing first chapter and then the novel moves forward really very slowly. It duly accelerates around the midway point until you feel like you are hurtling through the action to some dramatic punctuation at the end. If you make it to the middle, it pays off but I do think you have to want to finish these books. You have to care about “the Tudors”. (Note: I recently ran a session on Six: The Musical [concept musical/pop concert sing-off between the six wives of Henry VIII] and many people in the room were unfamiliar with Anne of Cleves. Assuming knowledge is assuming privilege. Don’t be that person.) I became very attached to Cromwell, Christophe, Rafe Sadler, Anne Boleyn (don’t @ me), Hans Holbein, and Cromwell’s painting of the Queen of Sheba, but I also feel like you experience a narrative sag when you read any of them.
If you have reading challenges and enjoy audiobooks, I would really recommend starting these volumes in recorded form. I borrowed my audiobooks from Sheffield Libraries and that’s the only way that made it through Wolf Hall and Bring Up The Bodies (the first two books in this trilogy). All three are like aural histories of a the life and career of the politician. You live out Thomas Cromwell’s experiences with him and therefore they lend themselves to narration.
I need to lie down now but I am very grateful for this book. I wanted to give it three stars on Goodreads. But I won’t.
You may or may not know that I am both dyslexic and dyspraxic. While these Specific Learning Difficulties may seem inconsequential to you if you are neurotypical, they are life altering for me. Unlike most dyslexic people, my general reading speed is very high (c.1100 words per minute) but I have actual sensorial experiences when I process text, and this can slow me down. I hear words like percussion so the process is like first acknowledging a *bang* and then processing what the sound is: “Oh that’s a drum!” This makes words, poetry, theatre, songs, and other delivered texts truly magical. I get obsessive about styles of writing that I enjoy and intuit a lot from authorial voices. So far, so good.
However, there are a number of downsides to this part of my brain. For example, when an author uses a lot of the same word or name (the Wolf Hall books/Tudor England loves a Thomas), it’s like a reading version of the hype section in a drum & bass track and I am left in limbo waiting for the beat to drop. It can lead to concentration loss and then that’s my reading session over.
While I have the capacity to read several books of any kind in a day when I need to, I get word fatigue more easily than other folx. It’s worst when moving through emails and most manageable in novels with a distinct and consistent narrator. But I am also caught out by having limited short term memory. If I get distracted or drawn into a peripheral idea, then I am lost. The drifting treasure hunt is a nightmare when I’m reading academic books because I frequently come across things I don’t know or references that I don’t recognise and suddenly I’m learning about what wallpaper was used Oscar Wilde’s bedroom and not whatever I was meant to be researching.
If I put a book down, I have a very short window to pick it up in again before I temporarily forget everything about it or have processed enough of an impression to not need to finish it. I re-read very rarely because books are like moments in time for me. They aren’t worlds I visit or frequent. They are a thought interruption and once that disturbance is profound enough, I store away the impression in a visual library in my head. Therefore, I can normally tell you what was happening in my life when I was reading a book, where I was when I read it, what the cover looked like, which bag I carried it in, and how I was feeling at the time. Functionally, there are sections in my mental library. For example, there’s a PTSD bookcase (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and a read-through of Kay Scarpetta crime series up to Scarpetta in 2008). There’s a “I read this in a tent when it rained at a folk festival” shelf (Lord of the Rings, The Godfather, To Kill A Mockingbird, Emma). There’s also a “I read this on the tube” section which takes me through all the moods, fads, and passions of my teenage years (shout out to Malorie Blackman, Alexandre Dumas and Meg Cabot for staying solid).
I have a fondness for my brain library but all of these things make chonky books (let’s say more 600 pages or epic hardbacks) feel hugely intimidating. Will I ever finish them if I start them? The audiobook is more than 24 hours so I need to set aside time or commit weeks and weeks to a single book when I could read it in a few hours. What if I get distracted? There’s so much world to hold onto. Also, how does this mesh with my preference to read 6-10 books at once? I have to micro-manage my life because I am unalterably forgetful (no short term memory), distractible, and easily overstimulated. My brain will just factory reset (blackout and then slowly re-establish all the things that were going on) as many times a day as my stress and sleep levels demand. Can I spare the headspace to read a book that might trigger any of the possible symptoms of brain overload?
I love book hype. I tend to find that my friends who are excited for a new read are effusive and generous in their love of the story, character, or world they anticipate. It can be really special to take part in and be around. But then I pick up the hardback and I begin to problematise the time, conditions, mood, and space I have for the challenge facing me. Because of how words work for me, I find it hard to exist in too many serial spaces at once so I had to finish watching the original Star Trek series (a strange story for another time) before I could really contemplate picking up Hilary Mantel’s The Mirror and the Light. (This is the last novel in the Wolf Hall trilogy about Thomas Cromwell’s career under Henry VIII.)
I am almost ready to begin with my new 875-page obstacle course but I can feel the anxiety rising. If I don’t make it this weekend, when will I next pick it up? Will I care? Will I struggle with all the Thomases? Will I power through and be done in seven hours? The good news is that my copy smells great and I have bought a doughnut to have while I get stuck in. Wish me luck and solidarity to all the other people with different and unusual ways of negotiating their joy of reading.
This is a blog thread that might be about a section, quote, theme, or particular thing I have read and have a big reaction to. For example, when I read Candice Carty-Williams’ novel Queenie, I found myself cackling on a train while reading one of the conversations about dating and money. I photographed the page and sent it to my friend, Furaha, who I had had the exact same chat with not a week previously. I might write something about dating, money, and conversations between women of colour about these things. Alternatively, I might write a very heavy piece about a particular aspect of the new His Dark Materials novels that really frustrates and disturbs me. I might also write something about Pullman’s code-breaking academic Hannah who likes hot chocolate, lending books, and recommends Poirot to people (#narcissism). This is a react thread.