This month was full of heartbreak and humor – but not from the same authors.  

First up it was the World War I novel At Night All Blood is Black by David Diop (translated by Anna Moschovakis). This has been sitting on my shelf for months now as a slim bomb waiting to go off as soon as I picked it up. Everything about this book is remarkable – the narrative, the descriptions, the character development, the blend of war and myth – and because of the ending you have to close the book, take a deep breath, and read the entire thing again. This is not an easy read but its certainly a worthwhile one.

I tried to switch gears from war novel to domestic scene with The Walking Tour by Kathryn Davis – a novel about two couples who go on a walking tour only to have their lives forever changed. I liked a lot of things about this in theory but in practice the narrative structure where the daughter of one couple was telling their story alongside her own life story was just too hard to follow to allow me to engage with the characters. It felt like listening to an audiobook at the wrong speed – Davis and I just couldn’t get on the same page (excuse the pun), so I didn’t finish it.

Instead, I picked up Young Mungo by Douglas Stuart which I started two months ago before needing a break (exactly the same situation as with Stuart’s first novel Shuggie Bain). Finally, over one solitary, rainy, desperately emotional evening I finished the second half of the book. Overall, I’m glad I made it to the end because the final scene does bring more closure than anticipated and Stuart’s narrative skills are as strong as ever, but I can’t recommend it the way I do Shuggie Bain. Whereas that was a perfect balance of pain and humanity and literary magic, Mungo’s scales are tilted a bit too far in the pain direction. If you do feel strong enough though, I certainly won’t say any time spent with Stuart is a waste.

Again I was eager to switch gears after the intensity of Mungo and grabbed Less is Lost by Andrew Sean Greer from the new arrivals shelf at the library. I loved Less and was very excited when they announced the sequel. Somehow Greer (and Less) create a narrative for the reader that is clear fiction but with humor deeply rooted in reality. It’s a winning combination and led to plenty of laughter.

I also dove into some non-fiction this month with Phillis Wheatley: Biography of a Genius in Bondage by Vincent Carretta which is a stellar example of historical biography. Wheatley, a woman who was both an enslaved girl and widely published poet, is one of those writers you wonder why you didn’t learn about sooner. I’ve been reading as much of her work and about her as I can in the last few years and Carretta’s work is an excellent addition. He offers readers details about Wheatley’s life, analysis of her writing, and useful wider context. He’s also clear about the information we don’t have which I always appreciate more than a writer or historian who tries to gloss over missing details. If you haven’t heard of Wheatley, but you’re interested in American history and/or literary history this should be your next read.

For audiobooks it was mostly John Cheever’s short story collection this month – read by some amazing actors (hello Meryl Streep!). I can see why Cheever was so popular in his day, but his short story collection reminded me that it’s not always advisable to read too much of one writer’s work at once. So many of Cheever’s stories covered the same issues – family conflict, marital issues, alcoholism, suburban angst – that it started to feel repetitive, but I imagine if I’d read them in a less concentrated time frame it would not have bothered me so much. Either way if you haven’t read him or haven’t read him for a while go find “The Enormous Radio” which is just a great American short story.