My Top 10 Books of 2020

This has been quite a year! Although it might seem beneficial for readers to have more time at home, the anxiety and general stress caused by the pandemic and tumultuous politics certainly challenged my concentration at times. I know for many readers it's also created severe practical problems. However, books have also provided the most wonderful respite with escapism and intellectual engagement with difficult issues. While I primarily read new fiction, I've also found great consolation in starting Anthony Trollope's Barsetshire series recently. 

Maybe it's not a coincidence that some of my favourite books this year have been big 500+ page epics which have allowed me to fully immerse myself in their fictional worlds. Though I initially started reading it in 2019 and didn't finish it till May this year, “The Eighth Life” by Nino Haratischvili was the most dazzling family saga that covers multiple generations and wars. It was also a highlight of this year being able to interview both the author and translators of this brilliant novel.

Joyce Carol Oates writes so insightfully about the human condition and social issues in contemporary America. Her books often feel eerily prescient, but her most recent giant novel “Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars.” is one of her most monumental achievements with its piercing depiction of grief and the timely way it opens with a racially-motivated incident where police use excessive force. The dynamic way she shows the various reactions of the McClaren clan really speaks to the formation of prejudice and how people can fear others who are different from themselves. Additionally, it's been one of the great privileges of my life to interview Oates about this novel and her more recent collection of novellas “Cardiff, by the Sea”.

“The Mirror and the Light” was one of the biggest publishing events of the year. Not only was Hilary Mantel's new novel one of the longest books I read this year, but combined with the first two books in the Thomas Cromwell trilogy (which I also read right before its publication) and it adds up to over 2000 pages. Although I found it somewhat of a challenge getting my head around some of the complicated Tudor politics, this was also one of the most wondrous reading experiences I had this year. Mantel deserves all the praise credited to her because her storytelling is utterly gripping, psychologically insightful and she has a way of making the past feel very relevant.

I had an odd hankering to read sci-fi this year and another new doorstopper I was enthralled by was Rian Hughes' astonishingly inventive novel “XX”. When a strange signal from outer space is recorded and a mysterious object crashes into the moon, an unlikely hero and his tech company uncover a secret extraterrestrial plan. The drama is whether it's meant to save all intelligent life in the universe or destroy it. But this novel is so much more than a wild tale about aliens. There's so much in this book about technology, physics, consciousness and the question of human progress itself. It also uses font in a way which contributes to the story itself making it a very playful novel as well as an edifying read that gripped me for the entire 977 pages.

Alternatively, a very slender novel which absolutely gripped me and has left a lasting impression is “Minor Detail” by Adania Shibli. A woman comes across an article that briefly mentions the rape and murder of a Palestinian woman in the Negev desert in the war of 1948. From there she embarks on a journey to discover what happened to her. This novel in two parts is about our connection to the past, people who are memorialised and those who are forgotten. The way the sections mirror each other and form this bridge with history is so artfully and poignantly done.

Being a book prize fanboy, I'm always curious to follow and read what's listed for the Booker Prize. For this year's award two titles really stood out for me. The first is shortlisted “Burnt Sugar” by Avni Doshi which describes one of the most tense mother-daughter relationships I've ever read about. The narrator Antara's mother is showing signs of dementia and she must become her carer when her mother never nurtured or supported her. This conflict is grippingly dramatised, but it's also such a thoughtful story about memory and how honest we are with ourselves.

The winner of this year's Booker Prize was “Shuggie Bain” by Douglas Stuart, the heartbreaking story of a sensitive boy and his struggling mother in Glasgow in the 1980s. It's the most penetrating and moving depiction of alcoholism I've ever read. But for all its pain there are wonderful moments of humour and humanity in this story. I remember there's a hilarious scene where the mother and her friends get new bras. But I also love the way this debut novel portrays Shuggie's precociousness and the clever way it considers notions about masculinity.

While some curmudgeonly authors have been whining about the death of the “serious novel” this year, there have been many extraordinary debuts published which prove there are so many strong and powerful voices emerging in fiction. I had the honour of being a judge in the Debut Fiction category of this year's Costa Book Awards and one excellent novel from this list is “Love After Love” by Ingrid Persaud. This is the story of a single mother in modern-day Trinidad, her son and their friend Mr Chetan who form a strong family unit, but when certain secrets come out in the open it threatens to tear them apart. This novel made me laugh and cry like no other book this year. It's a story full of warmth, heartache and light and I absolutely loved it.

Like with the end of Hilary Mantel's trilogy, another tremendous literary multi-novel saga which came to the end this year was Ali Smith's Seasonal Quartet. But, rather than mining history, Smith has recorded and reflected upon our current times in these books which have concluded with “Summer”. And it is the most glorious ending both in how it brings together characters from the various books and considers where we are now in this pandemic and in a politically divided society. Her characters are complex and nuanced. And her writing is full of so much heart and humour reading it is such a pleasure.

Another deeply pleasurable book I read this year is the great Edmund White's most recent novel “A Saint From Texas”. This story chronicles the lives of twin sisters who are raised in rural Texas in the 1950s. Although they are identical they grow to live very different lives: one commits herself to pious charitable work in Colombia while the socially-ambitious other sister climbs the echelons of Parisian society. This story charmed, bewitched and completely mesmerized me to the last page. It's great fun but it's also so insightful in how it considers family and the phenomenon of personality.

Finally, a novel I just read recently and found incredibly moving was “The Pull of the Stars” by Emma Donoghue. It's fascinating how the circumstances of our lives can effect what we get out of what we read. Unsurprisingly, this story of a nurse working in the maternity ward of a Dublin hospital in 1918 during the outbreak of the Great Flu hit close to home. It's incredible how Donoghue wrote this before the pandemic this year but so many details about how people and society responds to such an outbreak rang true. I've now witnessed in real life the patterns of behaviour portrayed in this novel. But, beyond its relevancy, this is a tremendous story about personal fortitude and strength amidst tremendous adversity and it's also a beautifully tender love story.

It'd be great to know if you have any thoughts or feelings about these books or if you're curious to read any of them now if you haven't already. I'd also love to hear about what books have consoled or inspired you during this very testing year.

XX by Rian Hughes

Recently I've found myself getting into reading science fiction. I've not previously been drawn to the genre – I don't have much interest in extraterrestrial life or fantasies about elaborate future civilizations. But I do have an affinity for the science of outer space, the complex nature of consciousness and the beauty of graphic design. Rian Hughes' majestic and innovative novel “XX” delivers all this and more while telling a story that consistently gripped and delighted me for all its 977 pages. The premise is fairly simple. An unnatural signal from outer space is detected and a small London tech company speculates that perhaps it's not a message from aliens but a code which actually contains the aliens themselves. From this spins a thrilling tale where not only life on Earth is in jeopardy but every living thing in the galaxy. 

But this novel is many many other things as well. It contains a science fiction story within a science fiction story – a wonderful ode to the kind of serialized sci-fi tale that might be found in a 50s pulp magazine which also connects with the larger novel. It's about the blurred line between artificial intelligence and human intelligence. It's a meditation on consciousness which pushed me to reconsider how we define memory and our perception of reality. It presents a convincing fictional theory about the formation and structure of the universe. It offers a new way of conceptualizing ideas about creation and fate in regards to religion. It's a history of technology's evolution. Woven into its story are an array of graphics and a variety of fonts (many designed by the author himself) which add meaning to the text in their very design. And it's also a philosophical meditation on the meaning and endpoint of human civilization itself. So there's a lot going on, but the novel is so well plotted and has a cracking sense of humour that it can successfully juggle all this at once.

At the centre of the book is Jack Fenwick, a tech wiz who is capable of seeing distinct patterns in seemingly random bundles of information. This comes in very handy when trying to translate what non-earthly beings might be trying to communicate. He's also somewhere on the spectrum as socializing is incredibly difficult for him. But I was relieved that this crucial character has little of the repellent macho swagger typically found in geek sci-fi heroes such as Mark Watney from “The Martian” or Paul Atreides from “Dune”. Jack is certainly bolshy and confident, but the novel acknowledges how the constrictions of his personality cause real emotional conflict within himself and for those he encounters. There's an equally compelling accompaniment of characters that surround him who excel at their speciality but also struggle fitting into larger society.

What most impressed me about this novel was that for all its complexity, tricksy stylistic quirks and thoughtful conundrums it is an absolute pleasure to read. I chuckled appreciatively as I had to turn the book on its side or upside down to follow the path of its text during a certain section where characters traverse the boundaries of three-dimensional reality. It inspires wonder as I was thoroughly drawn into the many exciting twists of its story which sparked my imagination. But Hughes is also very sophisticated in how he draws upon traditions in science fiction literature while utilizing recent developments in astrophysics and computer technology. It ultimately made me mull over the progressions and limitations of our society while thoroughly entertaining me along the way. Earlier this year I saw Rian Hughes speaking about “XX” at a publisher's event and from his elaborate description I thought this book would be either a work of genius or a messy failure. I'm pleased to say that I found it to be a triumphant work of literary fiction like none I've read before.

XX by Angela Chadwick

There’s an interesting tradition of feminist utopian novels which speculate about futures or alternative societies that feature populations dominated by or entirely composed of women. These range from Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “Herland Trilogy” to Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain’s witty parody “Sultana’s Dream” to Marge Piercy’s science fiction classic “Woman on the Edge of Time” to Mary E. Bradley’s “Mizora” where women can reproduce through parthenogenesis (reproduction from an ovum without fertilization.) These imaginative works radically envision places where men are of secondary importance or become entirely irrelevant. These idealistic visions offer a breath of fresh air and a welcome counter-reality to the patriarchy which has dominated society for centuries.

Given enormous recent advances in science, it’s not hard to imagine the prospect of a technology which enables women to reproduce without men. That’s exactly the premise of Angela Chadwick’s enthralling debut novel “XX” which tells the story of lesbian couple Rosie and Jules who enrol in the trial stage of a ground-breaking new Ovum-to-Ovum treatment. It allows them to become pregnant through an IVF technique using two eggs rather than needing a sperm-donor. Since there is no XY sex-determination system at play in this method of reproduction it means the child will always be born with the sex chromosome XX and must be female. But Chadwick doesn’t posit this advancement as an opportunity for a world-dominating matriarchy; it’s exactly the opposite. The great drama of the novel comes from the wide-scale social resistance to such an advancement which will enable a small group of isolated individuals a unique opportunity to reproduce together. A conservative backlash perceives this technology as a threat to the status quo as they assert all children need a mother and father. They also fear boys will be phased out of the species. Rosie and Jules find themselves at the centre of a horrific and politically-contentious media storm. It’s a vivid story of personal struggle reflecting how any advancement with society is sadly met with reactionary politics.

It’s a difficult fact for many same-sex couples who wish to have children that some alternative method is currently required to assist them in becoming parents. This can be very painful and complicated because it means both people in the relationship don’t have an equal genetic stake in their child. I admire how Chadwick addresses this issue in her novel by offering a solution and exploring the challenges that would arise from this. In doing so, she addresses how pregnancy, relationships and family life are filled with infinite complexities so the road to becoming parents is never simple or easy. But, in the case of this couple it’s particularly complicated given how they become the focus of media scrutiny from becoming pregnant with the first O-O child. The story is told through the perspective of Jules whose partner Rosie becomes pregnant from the treatment. As a journalist at a local newspaper, she finds herself in a unique position of being a reporter who is herself the top news story.

Filmmakers Debra Chasnoff and Kim Klausner editing their 1985 documentary ‘Choosing Children’ about lesbians who become parents

Jules strives to keep her personal life and work separate, but this sadly becomes impossible. The novel serves as an interesting commentary on our sensational media system which exploits individuals for the sake of broader attention-grabbing contentious issues. A local Tory politician named Richard Prior emerges as a spokesman and campaigner for an organization called the Alliance for Natural Reproduction. He’s recognizable as a composite of right-wing figures who develop platforms to rile up the public with paranoias and fears about threats to the “natural” order of things. The story meaningfully reflects how such cases have become more and more common in recent years regarding a whole range of issues including marriage rights, health care, education and immigration. It also comments on how a large section of the population now consumes such news stories by “flick-throughs and social media posts” and form opinions about issues without engaging with their full complexity or considering the real facts. It’s striking how Chadwick realistically envisions how an optimistic advancement such as this would be blown up into a much larger political issue with a vicious backlash.

“XX” is one of the debut titles from an exciting new imprint called Dialogue Books. The imprint’s goal is to publish writers and reach audiences from areas and groups of people currently under-represented by the mainstream publishing industry. It aims to spark a dialogue across different communities about subjects we ought to be talking about. This novel certainly touches on a number of subjects that feel relevant today and takes a refreshing perspective. It does this through a well-plotted story and characters that I grew increasingly attached to. There’s nothing flashy about the prose, but this feels completely appropriate for a story about a normal couple that find themselves swept into an extraordinary situation. It also feels positive how we might no longer need stories of extravagant extremes that envision all female societies as a correction for the gender imbalances in our world. Instead, Chadwick offers a very rational and practical vision of how incremental steps can be taken to create more inclusive communities and dynamic families for everyone.