September was an excellent month, I was in Florence the whole time until right at the end when I flew to Chicago. I read eleven books, and it’s only now seeing them together as a list that I realise they’re kind of an odd bunch. But some of them were outstanding.
Five Windows, D.E. Stevenson (1953)
The conceit of this book is the view from five windows in five places that the central character lives in as he grows from a small boy in Scotland to a writer with a house of his own. Nothing much happens, but it’s very good—indeed it would be a lovely example of how mainstream books get readers to keep turning pages. There’s a remarkably realistic part where David sells a novel in the US because British publishers don’t want it; the exact same thing happened to me, so I see it must be a very usual kind of experience. And seriously, it’s also very good on David learning to be a writer. I believe I am now out of recommended Stevensons and may have to read the less good ones.
Machiavelli: His Life and Times, Alexander Lee (2020)
After a great start with lots of specific detail about Machiavelli’s childhood address, this book got bogged down in the War of the League of Cambrai. I don’t like Lee’s method of dealing with primary sources, where he will take one letter and write about five different things from it as if they happened at different times and not in a connected way. I don’t recommend this unless you really want all the fiddly details, and even then, you’d need to double check.
He Who Drowned the World, Shelley Parker-Chan (2023)
Sequel to She Who Became the Sun, do not start here! So these two long books are one giant book really, and complete as a pair. I liked this one slightly less than the first, because it was doing more of the same excellent thing and thus wasn’t as surprising, but it’s still splendid and utterly absorbing. It’s a fantasy China leading up to the establishment of the Ming Dynasty, with real ghosts, a visible Mandate of Heaven, great detail of everyday life, and lots of very cool gender stuff. Love, revenge, power, changing the world, choices and the imagination of opening up space for choice… I can’t say anything more without spoilers for the first book. Lots of political intrigue, lots of angst, not enough of Ma who I like best. If you’re at all interested in what fantasy is doing you want to read these, and anyway you should just read them, they’re terrific.
The Pope at War: The Secret History of Pius XII, Mussolini, and Hitler, David Kertzer (2022)
Grim book detailing the inaction of Pope Pius XII against the Nazis and the Holocaust, and his active co-operation with Mussolini. People kept telling him and he kept doing nothing. Depressing and infuriating, but the book is well-put-together and cites sources solidly. If you want to know about this, here it is.
Rest in Pink, Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer (2023)
Second in the Liz Danger series that began in July with Lavender’s Blue. These are romance mysteries set in the fictional Ohio town of Burney, where the couple who got together in the first book are making more of a commitment, while solving another murder. Delightful. It’s so nice to have a new Crusie, and this is top notch.
One in Vermillion, Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer (2023)
So I tried not to read this. I told myself sternly to wait until next month to read this, so I could have it in a different column here—it’s more interesting for you, the reader, and it’s also better for the books for me to read them in different months. But… look, it was right there, and I couldn’t stop myself. After all, even if I do occasionally spare you a thought I’m reading because I want to read, and what I want to read, not to entertain you or to promote the books. So I had no self-control, I just plunged into the third volume the second I was done with the second. They’re just that good, and just that more-ish.
In book 3 Vince and Liz make even more of a commitment. They solve another murder and clear up a mystery that has been unfolding throughout the trilogy. They get started on revitalising Burney and make a commitment to the town and community. Some secondary characters connect in satisfying romances of their own. Delightful and fun to read. If there had been another ready I’d have gone straight on to that too. These are not long books, but they are wonderfully readable and full of lovely details and fun characters.
Hope in the Dark: Untold Histories, Wild Possibilities, Rebecca Solnit (2004)
I’ve been thinking recently about why we pass on the bad news and never the good news, and here is a book where Solnit considers that question. The book is also a consideration of how we lose sight of partial and invisible victories—a wilderness without a pipeline, an election that was conducted fairly—these are invisible victories, and partial victories become one brick among many in the new circle that is being raised above them. It might be impossible without that brick, but we do not celebrate it, especially when it is, as so often, the result of messy real world compromise. We tend to cynically dismiss all that is not perfect, and consider the real news to be the bad news. It’s striking, as Solnit points out, how often good news is instantly countered with a gotcha-style “Yeah but…”
It’s very interesting to read this book almost twenty years later with perspective on what has endured and what has changed since. The doomscrolling has definitely become worse, and it’s very hard to think of ways to counter it. Ada Palmer and I were discussing this, and came up with the hashtag #ShareGoodNewsToo for when we discover things like rhino numbers are up, solar power is massively increasing in China, or crime decreasing in the US. A thought-provoking book and very well written.
The Saint of Bright Doors, Vajra Chandrasekera (2023)
Brilliant wonderful amazing fantasy novel, and the second fantasy novel I have read this year (or ever) featuring UBI. The experience of reading The Saint of Bright Doors is a little like having a mild fever—it’s the atmosphere of the book and the way it makes you feel. Everything is slightly too big and too bright, and details keep piling up and slipping out of control, and it’s all stirred together with a dash of Kafka—but in a good way. This is a dense, powerful book with interesting metaphysics and worldbuilding, and very real characters. When I think about it I find myself slipping back into it.
There’s a lot here, and it’s coming from a lot of directions to flow together into a perfectly crafted whole. But when I think about trying to describe it—look, this book contains a support group for people who were almost Chosen Ones, and there are enough of them in the city to help each other recover. And the city—it’s complex and layered like a real place, and this isn’t our world but it has both email and magic. I recommend reading the first chapter, because if you like it, you’ll like all of it. Absolutely worth your time. I expect to see this on awards ballots next year. I very much look forward to reading it again now I know the shape of it and where it was going, because I really couldn’t tell. Stunning. I am still a little stunned by it myself.
Piero di Lorenzo de’ Medici and the Crisis of Renaissance Italy, Alison Brown (2020)
It’s really interesting reading something by someone that has read all the same source material I have read but sometimes come to different conclusions. This is an interesting, detailed book about Piero the Unfortunate, and goodness knows we needed one. But it has some curious blind spots—she mentions Poliziano’s death, but does not ever mention that he was poisoned or consider the question of who poisoned him. The proof of the poisoning came in 2007 with a modern analysis of the bones, so many older books don’t cover it, but a 2020 book should, and as Piero is the leading contender for murderer, it’s really odd to have zero discussion of it. Apart from that, a good book, easy to read, with some details I didn’t know and am glad to learn. I wish it had been available when I was writing Lent.
Strange Journey, Maud Cairnes (1935)
Weird but fun book about two women of different classes in England in 1935 who keep repeatedly finding themselves in each other’s bodies and trying to cope with each other’s lives. This is, I suppose, fantasy, or anyway a fantastical premise, but it is written as a mainstream novel and the climax is emotional. Despite obvious flaws I couldn’t put it down. Charming and clever. Thanks to Desperate Reader, whose description of it as being basically about female solidarity is spot-on.
Apology for a Murder, Lorenzino de’ Medici (1538)
Odd little book put together by Tim Parks (author of Medici Money), which first discusses Lorenzino’s murder of his cousin Alessandro then translates his own justification of the assassination, along with the exciting story of his escape, and the description of the killing of Lorenzino by a professional bravo, and then Lorenzino’s sonnets. I don’t know who the audience for this book is, but I enjoyed it.
Jo Walton is a science fiction and fantasy writer. She’s published two collections of Tor.com pieces, three poetry collections, a short story collection and fifteen novels, including the Hugo- and Nebula-winning Among Others. Her novel Lent was published by Tor in May 2019, and her most recent novel, Or What You Will, was released in July 2020. She reads a lot, and blogs about it here irregularly. She comes from Wales but lives in Montreal. She plans to live to be 99 and write a book every year.
