2024 superlatives

Other year-end literary lists focus on the year's best. I favor other superlatives. This year I am adding a new category: most fun. And remember, these are just books I read this year, not those published this year.

Most Enchanting Book: Reading Leif Enger's Peace Like a River makes a person believe in miracles.

Most Important Book: Published a number of years ago, David McCullough's The Great Bridge, about the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge, still seems important for what it teaches us about how big ideas become reality.

Most Daunting Book: What I found daunting about Sy Montgomery's The Soul of the Octopus was the subject matter. Each of an octopus's eight tentacles has its own brain and its own personality. Staggering.

Wisest Book: Who would have suspected that a book about a famous madam could explain so much about what was going on in the United States between the wars? But Debby Applegate's Madam, about Polly Adler, does just that.

Most Familiar Book: The Funny Stuff is a collection of highlights from the work of P..J. O'Rourke. Even those excerpts I had not read before seemed familiar because of O'Rourke's distinctive wit.

Most Incomprehensible Book: In The Zoologist's Guide to the Galaxy, Arik Kershenbaum attempts to predict what creatures on other planets, if they exist, might look like. Huh?

Most Beautiful Book: William Kent Krueger's The River We Remember may be a mystery, but it is a beautifully written  mystery.

Most Fearless Book: In The Power of Eight, Lynne McTaggert takes a scientific approach to prayer. A small group of people praying for the same thing at the same time brings amazing results, she says. What takes bravery is not so much writing the book or reading the book as acting on what it says.

Most Surprising Book: I didn't expect Elizabeth McKenzie's The Dog of the North to be as much fun as Charles Portis's The Dog of the South. But it is.

Most Unpleasant Book: I love Patrick deWitt's other novels, but Ablutions describes some of the very worst human behavior, and I found it disgusting.

Most Luminous Book: Olaf Olafsson's beautiful novel Touch tells of an Icelandic man who fell in love with a Japanese girl in his youth. Now retired and widowed, and in the midst of a pandemic, he flies to Japan to try to find her.

Most Fun Book: All of Richard Russo's Fool novels are fun to read, but Somebody's Fool, the last in the trilogy, puts the icing on the cake.

A full life

The novel written about the life of Dita Kraus was called The Librarian of Auschwitz. Kraus tells her own story in her 2020 autobiography A Delayed Life.

Written when she was 89, her book covers her entire life and does not dwell on her time in Auschwitz or her experiences in Nazi labor camps. She deals with her experiences as the extermination camp's librarian in just a few sentences. There were only about a dozen books that Jewish prisoners had brought with them and were left behind after their deaths. Only 14 years old at the time, she was briefly put in charge of them.

Kraus writes about the deaths of her parents, the starvation diet she and other prisoners endured and the work she was forced to do to stay alive. She survived only by lying about her age, saying she was a year older than she actually was. A teenage girl at the time, she seems to remember more about the boys she liked than the horrors of camp life.

Most of the book deals with her life after the war, first as a translator for British soldiers, then as a wife and mother and settler in the new state of Israel. Her description of life in a kibbutz is particularly interesting. She tells about the kibbutz raising pigs, not caring about Jewish dietary laws, while residents were disciplined if they used the name of Jesus when they swore. There were no marriages. Couples simply declared that they wanted to live together.

In the end, Dita Kraus looks back on a full and rewarding life, even if it was delayed by that horrible experience as a prisoner of the Nazis when she was apparently doomed to an early death.

A Game for Readers (2024 edition)

Each year at about this time I try to answer the same 12 questions with the titles of books read that year. It's a game anyone who reads a lot of books can play. If you do play, please comment with your own answers. Here are mine:

Describe yourself: Somebody's Fool

How do you feel: Touch (literally)

Describe where you currently live: The Old Place

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Two Nights in Lisbon

Your favorite form of transportation: Hitchhiker

Your best friend is: Hid from Our Eyes

You and your friends are: The Messy Lives of Book People

What is the weather like where you are: A New Day in the City

What is the best advice you could give: Doesn't Hurt to Ask

Thought for the day: I Shall Not Want

How would you like to die: Every Man Dies Alone

What is your soul's present condition: Peace Like a River

Alien abduction can be fun

Light-hearted sci-fi novels are not that common, so we should be grateful for Connie Willis. Her The Road to Roswell (2024) is, like Crosstalk, a comic gem.

Francie goes to Roswell, N.M., to be maid of honor at her former college roommate's wedding, although her real objective is to try to talk Serena out of marrying a UFO kook. Yet no sooner does she get to Roswell than she is snatched by an actual space alien who looks like sagebrush with multiple octopus-like tentacles.

Her fears subside as she begins to realize the alien does not want to harm her but rather needs her help. Before long four others are abducted by Indy, the name given to the alien because he uses those tentacles like Indiana Jones uses his whip.

Indy learns English by watching western movies, leading to many hilarious conversations. One of his favorite expressions becomes, "MIGHTY GRATEFUL MA'AM." Indy's mission is to find a missing friend, but he feels so bad about Francie missing the wedding that he insists on going to a Las Vegas wedding chapel so that she can marry Wade, one of the men he has abducted. He seems to know before either Wade or Francie that they are in love.

Indy and his human crew are chased through the West by both the FBI and other aliens. This may not be classic science fiction, but it is all outrageous fun. 

Hard on books

First edition

Why are first editions of classic children's books in good condition relatively hard to find? Simply because children are hard on books, especially the books they love.

Very small children even chew on books. So do their pets. Children want their parents to read the same favorite stories over and over again at bedtime. They like to carry these books with them and take them places, even outside when they play. Before they learn to read, they enjoy sitting down with these books to look at the illustrations and relive the stories in their minds.

Like teddy bears and favorite dolls and toys of any kind, few favorite books survive childhood in good shape. They may eventually get tossed. If kept, they may become prized possessions to their original owners, yet they may not be prized by collectors looking for something more pristine.

It is probably true that any book, whether written for children or adults, that remains in a condition loved by collectors was never truly loved by its original owner.

Written in scars

In America, a man could become what he dreamed; in India, dreaming could undo a man.

Thrity Umrigar, The Museum of Failures

In Thirty Umrigar's wonderful 2023 novel The Museum of Failures, Remy's loving father raised him to escape India, move to America and make his dreams come true there. To a great extent, that is exactly what happens. At Ohio State, Remy meets Kathy, an American beauty, and marries her. Then he becomes very successful in business. Yet he had actually wanted to write poetry, and his and Kathy's dream of having a baby proved impossible. Perhaps his dreams could come true in India after all.

Remy returns to India alone when he learns of a young woman with an inconvenient pregnancy. She has agreed to let Remy and Kathy adopt her baby.

In Bombay, however, Remy discovers his mother, Shirin, in a hospital bed, unable or unwilling to eat or speak. His relationship with his mother has always been difficult. His late father had been the loving one, while his mother had always been distant, critical and sometimes cruel.

Yet his presence in her hospital room seems to revive Shirin, and slowly she begins to recover, even as his adoption plans run into difficulties. Remy's feelings toward his mother gradually change, especially when he discovers a long hidden family secret that causes him to rethink his attitude toward both of his parents. His family turns out to be very different than what he had assumed.

Late in her novel, Umrigar, who like her main character is a transplant from India to Ohio, writes that "everybody's story was written in scars." That is certainly true in The Museum of Failures.

A pleasant old age

I cannot imagine a pleasanter old age than one spent in the not too remote country where I could reread and annotate my favorite books.

Andre Maurois, French author

Andre Maurois

I once met a man in his 90s — and wrote a newspaper column about him — whose life was pretty much what Andre Maurois describes above. Once a chemist, if I remember correctly, he now spent his days reading, not in a comfortable easy chair but sitting at his kitchen table. He mostly reread old favorites. He was reading Thackery when I met him and he became my friend. He lived in a small house full of books in a very small town, which might even be described as a "not too remote country."

I am too rapidly approaching that age now, and his life seems pleasant to me.

Most very old people seem to spend most of their waking hours watching television. That's what both of my parents did in their 90s. I am prepared for that kind of life, as well, for I have a large collection of DVDs, both favorite movies and television shows. I could happily watch them all again and again.

Yet reading sounds even more pleasant to me, for as long as I can focus my mind, make out the print and make notes on index cards about what I read.

Staying decent

Novelist Hans Fallada witnessed Nazi Germany firsthand. Although sometimes a critic of Hitler, he somehow survived, and after World War II he wrote his greatest novel, Every Man Dies Alone (1947). The novel gives a striking picture what it was like being a decent German in an indecent time.

At the novel's center are a middle-aged couple, Otto and Anna Quangel, who are lukewarm supporters of Hitler until their son is killed in combat. Then their attitude changes. Open rebellion, or even criticism, is impossible, so Otto, a foreman at his factory, hits upon the idea of writing anti-Nazi messages on postcards and carefully placing them around the city. Anna joins him in his effort, bringing the two of them closer together than they have been in years. They are united in their cause, a cause that seems doomed from the start and could cost them their lives.

The postcards have little impact. Most of them are turned over to the Gestapo immediately, and the search for the perpetrator becomes a high priority. The length of the hunt jeopardizes the careers and even the lives of those in charge. One guard, after the Quangels are arrested, is dismissed as being unsuitable, "too human to do duty here."

The novel is long, full of many characters and details, yet it rarely ceases to be riveting. And Fallada's ultimate message comes through clearly: Even when the situation seems hopeless, there remains something to be said for staying decent.

Other benefits of reading

Books relieve me from idleness, rescue me from company, blunt the edge of my grief. They are the comfort and solitude of my old age.

Montaigne

Montaigne

Montaigne reminds us that reading serves many purposes, and he doesn't even mention what are probably the two main ones: informing us and entertaining us. Let's look at his points one by one:

Relief from idleness — It is very easy to turn on the TV even when there is nothing on that we particularly want to watch or to play a game on our phone or computer. This is how so many of us spend our idle hours, myself included. We think of these activities as relief from work and worry, yet sometimes we need relief even from this kind of relief. Reading gets our minds working again while our tired bodies are at rest.

Rescue from company — Montaigne must have had more courage than I possess. When I have a guest who hangs around too long, I may think about picking up a book, but I refrain. I prefer more subtle hints.

Blunt grief — After my wife died, I had trouble doing any reading at all. Yet eventually I did find Montaigne's point to be true. My books provided distraction when distraction was what i needed.

Comfort in old age — When one is retired and alone, reading does provide comfort. A book can be like a companion one can hold in one's hands. It can help pass the time. It can involve one in the lives of others, even if those others are fictional or dead people from history.

Saving the future czar

Will Thomas blends history and fiction nicely in his 2021 Victorian mystery Dance with Death.

It is 1893 and Nicholas, the heir of Russia's throne, comes to London for a royal wedding. Enquiry agents Cyrus Barker and Thomas Llewelyn are hired to protect him from a suspected assassination attempt. The assignment is not easy to carry out in part because Scotland Yard and the future czar's own bodyguards, except for the one who hires the duo, are confident they can do the job without their help. Another complication is that Nicholas is a foolish young man, more interested in sneaking away to see his mistress than in his own safety.

Nicholas is just one of a number of real historical personages in this story. Others include Eleanor Marx, Karl's daughter, and Prince George of Greece and Denmark.

Barker and Llewelyn come to believe that the assassin may be a woman. What's more, she is a woman with a history with Llewelyn before his happy marriage to the beautiful widow, Rebecca. Will that marriage remain happy after all secrets are revealed?

Thomas gives his readers vivid characters, suspense, drama and plenty of action. Who could ask for more?

Finding a way

Samuel Johnson

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) is said to have made a practice of reading while walking through the streets of London, his book so close to his face that he was virtually blind. He usually just shuffled along slowly to prevent tripping and collisions.

This brings back memories of a week spent vacationing in Bemus Point, N.Y., when I read most of a Robert Parker novel while walking down a lakeside road on the outskirts of town. The road had little traffic, and I was able to stay on the brim while still focusing on the fast-moving detective story. I lived to tell about it.

When you enjoy reading, you find ways to read even while doing something else. When technology finally made it possible for you to listen to a book being read to you while you drove a car, fixed dinner or worked at a jigsaw puzzle, it proved a revolutionary development for many of us. And it was certainly safer than reading a book while walking along a road or a sidewalk.

I am looking at some humorous old drawings of women who are as dedicated to their reading as they are to their housework. One shows a woman on her knees mopping a floor while pushing a wheeled contrivance that includes both a bucket of water and an open book in front of her face. Another shows a Victorian woman washing dishes with a book mounted in front of her, strapped to her upper body.

Necessity is the mother of invention, they say. For some of us, reading is a necessity. We will find a way.

The mystery of owls

All birds are mysterious creatures because of their songs, their migratory habits and their ability to fly, but none may be more mysterious than owls. Jennifer Ackerman probes that mystery in What an Owl Knows (2023).

Owls have been difficult to study because most of them are active only at night. During the day they sit stationary, camouflaged by their feathers. Even experts have difficulty spotting them and finding their nests. One surprising solution to this problem is to train dogs to detect the odor of the pellets disgorged by owls. The pellets are composed of the bones and other indigestible matter in the prey they swallow.

Here are some other amazing facts about owls that Ackerman tells us about:

• There are at least 260 species of owls.

• Some owls hoot while still in their egg.

• Not all owls hoot in the manner usually associated with owls. The author tells of one species whose call sounds like a ringing telephone.

• Snowy owls migrate north, not south, for the winter.

• In some species of owls, only the females migrate. The males stay put in order to claim the best nesting sites when the females return.

• Some captive owls must pass "mouse school" before they can be released. They are even given a final exam in which they must demonstrate an ability to capture living mice.

Ackerman, the author of The Genius of Birds, traveled the world to encounter many kinds of owls, and she talked with many of those who have devoted their lives to the study of owls. She tells us a lot about these creatures, the only birds whose eyes face forward, yet the mystery remains.

Leaky boats

The foolishest book is a kind of leaky boat on a sea of wisdom; some of the wisdom will get in anyway.

Oliver Wendell Holmes

I like the fact that bad books exist. It means that someone had the freedom to write them and get them published. And someone else had the freedom to read them if they wanted to. Of course, one person's bad book can be another person's good book. 

The campaign against misinformation by the Biden administration during the Covid years demonstrated the wisdom of allowing free expression. Much of that "misinformation" turned out to be the truth. Much of what the experts said about Covid turned out to be mistaken. It other words, the proclaimed truth was too often the actual misinformation.

To use the analogy of Oliver Wendell Holmes. the truth eventually seeped into that leaky boat.

Many published books are hogwash. These may include political books on both sides of the spectrum, diet books that don't work. history books that get the facts wrong or the interpretations wrong, and so on. As long as someone else is free to write other books expressing a different point of view or presenting a different set of facts, wisdom will eventually get in.