Favorite books read in 2018

Use of Weapons was my first book review since early 2017, and only my second since 2013. Sad! Looking back to establish the facts, I recalled writing "favorites" book reviews for 2012. I wondered, what were my favorite books of 2018, looked back at my list, and found there were some good ones. Time for some mini-reviews.

The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell (2014)

This is the sixth novel by David Mitchell, author of Cloud Atlas [2012 review]. I purchased it when it was published, as I've enjoyed all his work, and Nicole and I started reading it aloud, but she was having a hard time getting into it as a listener, so we set it aside after the first section. We tried again some time later, but the same thing happened.

Finally, I read Slade House (2015) toward the end of 2017, a novella Mitchell originally published on Twitter. Then I learned it was connected to The Bone Clocks. I decided to go ahead without Nicole, and was glad I did. Upon reading, I realized it was also connected to The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet (2010), his fifth novel. The premise is that there are special souls that reincarnate with memory of their past lives, and another, darker sort of immortality that comes from consuming the souls of others. A character with psychic powers tunes into the cosmic battle between these factions, and we revisit her at several crucial moments in her life, while also following other characters. Like Cloud Atlas, the story finishes in the future, and the future looks bleak, though we don't go quite as far into it.

I don't remember all the details, a year later, but several scenes stick with me vividly, which I suspect is due to a particular resonance Mitchell's writing has with me.

The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff (1954)

This was the favorite book of the main character in The Bone Clocks. I wasn't familiar with it, but since I'm interested in children's fiction for the purposes of encouraging my budding readers, I decided to try it out. I was really impressed with the lovely writing. It's only adolescent fiction because it lacks any "adult" imagery, in my estimation.

It takes place in Roman Britain, and follows a young man into the wilds of Scotland to retrieve the standard of his lost father's division, the titular eagle of the Ninth Legion, of which he hears rumors from the home of his uncle, where he was convalescing after an injury ended his own military service.

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel (2014)

Something I was reading, maybe an interview with another writer, lumped Emily St. John Mandel with David Mitchell (and someone else?). I took the bait, and read all four of her novels, culminating with Station Eleven, probably the one most akin to Mitchell. I enjoyed them all, taking to the writing style, but this one was special. I encouraged Nicole to read it because of her penchant for post-apocalyptic survival stories, and she thoroughly enjoyed it, too.

Mandel's other three novels (The Singer's Gun, Last Night in Montreal, The Lola Quartet) are more in the realist bent, with maybe a noir aspect. Station Eleven is the first to foray into the future. A devastating disease hits North America suddenly and wipes out nearly everyone, but a few connected characters survive, and we follow them around, in some cases, as they travel in a touring troupe, or visit them in place, if they're living in a well-quarantined airport, among other things. We learn of more connections among them as we go, and hope for the best.

The most interesting part of post-apocalyptic fiction, for me, is the rebuilding. I have little patience for the kind that avoids it. Station Eleven isn't about rebuilding, per se, but it includes some, and I appreciated that.

A Paradise Built in Hell by Rebecca Solnit (2010)
The Extaordinary Communities that Arise in Disaster

This has apparently nothing to do with The Bone Clocks or David Mitchell, but it follows nicely after Station Eleven's disaster and recovery. Solnit is the best writer I know at organizing complex topics and presenting them in the linear fashion that writing requires, without completely succumbing to the constraint. She does this by alluding both backwards and forwards to other parts of her arguments. When the references are forward, they can be disorienting, because she seems to be making over-strong claims without backing them up, but once the reader is familiar with the device, it's tremendously useful.

As a fan of her work, I'd been aware of this one for some time, but something about the zeitgeist finally pushed it to the front of my queue this year. Like Station Eleven, I judged it of interest to Nicole, and she read it too, shortly after me.

The premise of the book is that disasters, usually natural, but sometimes partly or entirely man-made, bring out the best in people, and that in some ways modern society is its own slow disaster, because it prevents these wonderful interactions from being more commonplace. It introduced me to the concept of elite panic, and the stark difference between the lived experience of a disaster and the media portrayal thereof. Solnit makes compelling cases for many things, not least of which is the inability of slow-moving governments to be useful in times of urgency. Unfortunately, it doesn't stop them from trying, often trampling on those who were succeeding.

Katrina came along while she was working on the rest of the book, and provided another lucid example. That story has been told many times, but I hadn't paid close attention before. The stories of New York after 9/11 also hit home, because I had experienced the mainstream media version from a distance.

I don't know how complete this worldview can be, or even how accurate, but I heartily recommend this above all others on this list because it is bound to be relevant for all of us, sooner or later, and it seems important to be aware of this perspective, even if we don't fully accept it.