What I read: May

(I’ve put a * next to my favourites from the month)

*Transit- Rachel Cusk 

Transit is the second installment in Cusk’s Outline Trilogy. There is not a clear traditional plot structure to the series and each book is instead built upon deeply intimate, revealing conversations between the narrator, Faye, and the varied characters that cross her path. Faye occupies this strange liminal space in the narrative of Transit- she is the centre of the story, yet remains almost unknown to the reader. What we do pick up about her is gleaned through her interactions with others, and it is only through hearing their stories that the outline of Faye begins to take shape. The novel follows her working through the routine of a new life in London; problematic neighbours and pretentious colleagues. I find Cusk’s writing fascinating and so intelligent- I can’t really pin down what it is about her style that I enjoy so much, reading her almost feels like a dream, but Transit was a great sequel, so simple and with so much subtlety and yet still completely engaging. 

I Who Have Never Known Men- Jacqueline Harpman

Opening with 40 women locked in a cage underground, this book held real dystopian/science-fiction potential. Yet this has to be one of the most frustrating, draining books I’ve read in a long time. Harpman sets up so many questions- who these girls are, why they are in this cage, where they are, how this has happened etc etc and gives the reader no answers. I felt like I was dragging myself through this, it’s a depressing read, and although I’m sure there are some deeper, philosophical ideas playing out across the pages, I found it bleak and disappointing. 

*Saltwater- Jessica Andrews 

I first read this last summer, and it was one of my favourite books of the year. I don’t often re-read things, but I didn’t feel I had fully appreciated Saltwater, so went back for a second time. I love this book so much. So much. Andrews has the most lyrical writing style, where everything holds the tinge of a recent memory. Saltwater is the story of Lucy; born and raised in Sunderland with her mother and younger brother, she dreams of escaping her Northern hometown. London holds the glow of potential and growth for Lucy, but just how lost she really is becomes clear after she moves down to the capital for university. The narrative flits between wild, rugged Ireland, the sharp realities of London and the grey backdrop of Sunderland. Andrews deals with class, masculinity, the angst of youth, and belonging. She captures so perfectly that ache of wanting to find yourself, of struggling to work out where you belong and who to. 

My Name is Why- Lemm Sissay 

Over the last three years I’ve seen Lemm Sissay’s words almost daily- riding the bus into uni in Manchester, his poems are printed across the brickwork at the end of a row of buildings, letters falling horizontally to mimic rain. My Name is Why is his memoir, laying bare the institutional failures and racism that destroyed his childhood. Lemm was taken from his mother at birth and placed into a foster home, passed through the system, overlooked and kept from his biological family until he was an adult. Sissay’s story is heartbreaking and infuriating in equal measures, as he describes the inadequacy, prejudice and lack of care at the heart of a system that was supposed to look after him. The one thing I felt was missing from this memoir was more of Sissay’s own voice. He intertwines his prose with documents from his childhood (social worker reports, transcripts of meetings with foster families etc), and whilst at times having access to this dual perspective was interesting, the book felt crowded by this documentation, and this official voice and version of events overshadowed Sissay’s own thoughts and feelings. 

*Sight- Jessie Greengrass 

This novel completely took me by surprise. Greengrass seamlessly blends genres- simultaneously a work of fiction and also a kind of biography, this book interweaves a history of scientific discoveries with the story of the women within one family. Central to the novel is the connection between mother and child- the narrator considers her childhood, her relationship to her mother and her subsequent relationship to motherhood when her own daughter is born. The novel is hypnotic- quickly swinging between past and present, from being rooted in the narrator’s body one minute, to expanding out to depict the invention of X-rays the next. Sight is continually human focused, committed to exploring and understanding bodies; the experience of being embodied, of our relationship to the physicality of others, to having another body inside your own. This blend of history, science and fiction, alongside Greengrass’s style, which is so immersive and unique, meant that at times I felt I was reading a memoir. It’s hard to sum up this novel, it almost can’t be defined, but has been at the back of my head since I finished it- one of the best debuts I have read in a while.

The Garden of the Gods- Gerald Durrell  

This was read in a summer haze of nostalgia that came upon me after I finished my degree- it was hot and I wanted to feel like I was on holiday. TGOTG follows on from My Family and Other Animals, a book I loved when I was younger- they are both accounts of Gerald’s childhood growing up in Greece; his wild family and the characters that wander into their lives, as well as the many animals that Gerald spends his days collecting. Nothing particularly special, this was just a nice easy read. 

*Salt Slow- Julia Armfield 

I’m not usually a huge reader of short stories, and I probably bought this because of the cover, but this collection pulled me in from the start. Armfield writes these strange, often creepy stories that blend fantasy with the Gothic. Ranging from a scarily modern reimagining of Frankenstein, to stories of a girl and her wolf stepsister- she takes familiar tales and turns them on their head, resulting in a collection of stories that are both dreamy and monstrous. I have seen criticism of Salt Slow that claims Armfield’s work is missing some larger point, but I really enjoyed these stories for their strange uncanniness alone. 

Garlic and Sapphires- Ruth Reichl  

Googling ‘best food memoirs’ led me to Garlic and Sapphires, Reichl's account of her time as restaurant critic for The New York Times in the 90s. In order to pass through New York’s restaurants anonymously, Reichl had to eat in disguise, rotating through multiple characters who came with not only their own wardrobes, but different personalities as well. It is undeniable that Reichl is a master at writing about food- her reviews for The Times are dotted throughout the book and the behind the scenes access into how these articles came to life was fascinating, as was her depiction of being at the heart of New York journalism and restaurant culture. I definitely enjoyed this book and would read more of Reichl in the future, but it hasn’t been something I’ve thought about much since finishing. 

*Things I Don’t Want To Know- Deborah Levy 

I read this, the first part of Levy’s ‘Living Autobiography’ series, immediately after Transit and wow do the works of these two women fit so well alongside each other. The shifting form and keenly intelligent writing style of Levy drew me in instantly- in this short book she builds off an essay of Orwell’s, mixing commentary on gender and the act of writing with her personal history, and accounts of her childhood spent in South Africa. Definitely made me want to read more of Levy’s work- both fiction and autobiographical.