A Year of Reading: January 2024

And just like that, the first month of 2024 ends!

It’s been a lovely month easing into the new year, with a few good books to accompany me along the way.

I Am, I Am, I Am - Seventeen Brushes With Death, Maggie O’Farrell

My first read of the year was a memoir with a twist - it tells the story of Maggie O’Farrell’s life in near-death experiences.

I loved this. It was a great way to kick start another year of reading. From the story of the birth of O’Farrell’s first child and how the consultant ignored the necessity of a C-section, to the story of the predator on the river, to her daughter’s extreme anaphylaxis, it is powerful, absolutely heartbreaking, and fascinating.

It is also profoundly moving; O’Farrell’s  experience of encephalitis as a child left me in disbelief that one person can go through so much. O’Farrell’s memoir teaches you something about how lucky we are to believe alive, the fragility and strength of the human body, and the remarkable strength we can harness at times of great danger. I have read O’Farrell’s Hamnet and listened to podcasts featuring her, but I had no idea of her experiences; it just shows you really don’t really know everything about someone.

This unique memoir is a must read. It’s nothing like I’ve ever read, and you still learn so much about a person’s life even though their story is told through moments of near death and with such a focus on particular experiences.

‘This day - a day on which I nearly die - began early for me, just after dawn, my alarm clock leaping into a rattling dance beside my bed.’

More Sky, Joe Carrick-Varty

I saw Joe Carrick-Varty perform at the TS Eliot Shortlist Readings earlier this month with my gorgeous friend Sophia, and was instantly overwhelmed by his work. I just had to get a copy of the debut collection he read from.

The topics are profoundly moving, from addiction and domestic violence to suicide and family trauma. Some of his poetry is truly unreal - there is so much emotion and storytelling packed in captivating jewels of poetry. I loved all the poems, but I think my top ones would have to be ‘Dear Postie’, ‘The Children’, ‘More Sky’ and ‘There’s a Person Reflected.’ Breathtaking talent.

Trespasses, Louise Kennedy

This is a beautiful, deftly written, Women’s Prize shortlisted novel set in 1970s Belfast, and we follow Cushla as she navigates personal and political challenges.

This is an understated, quiet book, with no frills or flouncy language. But it’s still perfectly tense, like you can sense something is going to happen but you don’t know what or when. This feeling mirrors the setting itself, as the atmosphere of the Troubles is reflected in the way it is crafted. Cushla’s affair and her relationship with the McGoewens is brought together in the most painful way. I was really invested in the characters.

It’s also so sad - the domestic situations, alcoholism, the general feeling of not knowing what is waiting around the corner and when the next battle will be called, and the ultimate event that occurs towards the latter part of the novel is both unforeseeable and completely heart wrenching.

I enjoyed contemplating the title - does Kennedy use this to link to the idea of trespassing into an identity or relationship you shouldn’t, or trespassing into lives you shouldn’t. The fact it is not a noun, ‘tresspassers’, conveys that these characters have found themselves in the situation they are in.

‘Booby trap. Incendiary device. Gelignite. Nitroglycerine. Petrol bomb. Rubber bullets. Saracen. Internment. The Special Powers Act. Vanguard. The vocabulary of a seven-year-old child now.’

The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory

This is the story of Anne Boleyn and her lesser known sister, Mary, as they and their family fight for status and survival in the treacherous court of Henry VIII where everybody is dispensable.

I admit I reverted to the audiobook version of this despite starting the physical book. I was finding it difficult to find the momentum to keep going, and I have tried one of Gregory’s novels before but chose to DNF it. I can see why readers would love this, as the drama and tension Gregory deploys throughout a genuinely fascinating story is credible, but this elongated and heavily detailed style isn’t the kind of historical fiction I like. A great choice for fans of Tudor narratives, though.

‘I found myself hoping, childishly, that her boat would sink and she would drown. At the thought of her death I felt a confusing pang of genuine distress mixed with elation. There could hardly be a world for me without Anne, there was hardly world enough for us both.’