I’m delighted to unveil my top reads of the year – as ever, considering how much I enjoyed them and how good I think they are, wrapped up into one. Apparently I usually do 12, but this year it wasn’t hard to draw the line after 10 – these are definitely my top books, and there was a bit of a gap before the books I’d consider for numbers 11 or 12. I don’t include re-reads or more than one book by an author – and, of course, they are in strict order. It’s a surprisingly modern list for me, with only one book from before 1950.
Click on the title to get my full thoughts. Here we go!
10. A Flat Place (2023) by Noreen Masud
It’s always good to read a book by a friend, and even better when the book is brilliant. Noreen Masud expertly weaves together her experiences of cPTSD with explorations of flat landscapes in Pakistan and the UK. It’s an involving, moving, excellent book.
9. A Bird in the House (1970) by Margaret Laurence
Laurence took the top spot on my 2022 list, and though I was disappointed by The Fire-Dwellers, I loved these linked short stories that piece together a coming-of-age for young Vanessa. The stories sometimes cover seismic moments but more often look at everyday relationships – particularly those that are cut short or peter out. It’s also the first of three books in my top 10 that have ‘house’ in the title.
8. Temples of Delight (1990) by Barbara Trapido
Trapido’s chunky novel is particularly strong in the opening chapters and the friendship between two schoolgirls: shy, nervous Alice and whirlwind Jem. The strength of Jem’s exuberant, confusing personality is sustained throughout the novel, which is comfortably the best of the three Trapido books I’ve read.
7. The Bird in the Tree (1940) by Elizabeth Goudge
Not to be confused with A Bird in the House! This is the first in the Eliot trilogy, given to me in 2008 and finally read now – a beautiful, comforting read about several generations of a family in a delightful big house. What set it apart from me is Goudge’s unashamed championing of self-sacrifice.
6. The Self-Portrait of a Literary Biographer (1993) by Joan Givner
A total gamble that really paid off. Givner is a biographer of Katherine Anne Porter – and this book is about that, but also about her youth and her family and everything in between, all told in index-card-style vignettes. Such an unusual, inventive, strangely compelling book that I’m so happy I stumbled across in a Hay-on-Wye bookshop and took a chance on.
5. Day (2023) by Michael Cunningham
No link yet because my review will be appearing at Shiny New Books when it’s published in the UK – but Cunningham’s first novel in an age is already out in the US. It follows the same day in 2019, 2020, and 2021 – morning, afternoon, and evening respectively – and is very much a pandemic novel. But it’s also a novel with Cunningham’s trademark groups of family and friends-as-family, and his incisive brilliance at deeply showing every conceivable relationship within these groups. Worth the long wait we’ve had for it.
4. Road Ends (2013) by Mary Lawson
For me, 2023 will always be remembered as the year that I got to speak to Mary Lawson on my podcast – and, in preparation, I read the only novel of hers that I had waiting. Road Ends is as brilliant as always, about a man in Ontario dealing with a friend’s suicide, his father trying to come to terms with his past, and his sister’s bid for freedom in London. I don’t know how Mary Lawson does it, but she always does.
3. In The Dream House (2019) by Carmen Maria Machado
Following a similar pattern to Givner’s book, Machado tells this memoir of queer domestic violence through vignettes – each one linked to a particular literary device or framework. Visceral, clever, and beautifully written – it thoroughly deserves all the accolades it got in 2019.
2. The House by the Sea (1977) by May Sarton
I’d read some fiction by Sarton but her journals are on another level – and my favourite, so far, is the first one I read. She has moved to a house by the sea, and I appreciated descriptions of the area – but it’s really about her identity as a writer, her fears and anxieties, and her constant re-determining who she is.
1. No Leading Lady (1968) by R.C. Sherriff
All my top three are non-fiction, and my top place goes to the extraordinarily enjoyable memoir by R.C. Sherriff. The first half goes in granular detail through the conception, production, popularity, and afterlife of Journey’s End – a play I haven’t even read or seen, but I absolutely loved the detail he went into. Some books are ignored altogether, and this certainly isn’t a warts-and-all autobiography, but it’s a sheer delight. Sherriff is one of the great storytellers, and his own life and career are treated as exceptional material.