I don’t even want to think about how long it’s been since we’ve been confined to our homes. At this point, time has no meaning, all I know is that I’ve managed to watch every season of The Wire, The Sopranos and Mad Men and it’s probably time to switch off the idiot box and attempt to force my three remaining brain cells to read a book.
If you are also feeling deprived in the old brain area, and are looking for a book or two to exercise that old organ that lives rent-free in your skull, here are a couple of books that we’ve enjoyed.
If you haven’t already binge-watched the incredibly horny, absolutely perfect Hulu series, you are lucky. The things I would do to be whacked over the head with a mallet with just enough force to incite a small bout of memory loss so I could watch it for the first time again. It is one of the most faultless adaptations I’ve ever watched. It does Sally Rooney’s masterpiece such justice. Please read the book beforehand so you can have your heartbroken twice-over.
This one hurt to read. Taddeo’s meticulous study of the defining sexual relationships in the lives of three women will leave your heart barren. There are tiny revelations on each page.
Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race by Reni Eddo-Lodge
Lodge expertly dissects Black history and class in Britain. Born out of a 2014 blog post by the author in which she expressed her exhaustion with dealing with well-meaning but completely useless white people. This is imperative.
Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
We’re totally kidding, but you can buy a copy and unceremoniously place it on your bedside table. I’m convinced that nobody has read this book so I’m an advocate for owning a copy and spinning total lies about the contents of the book. I want a universal game of whispers. Start brewing your own narratives.
Capitalist Realism by Mark Fisher
This shit fucking slaps. Mark Fisher is the GOAT. I’m sure I’m not alone when I say that this time in isolation made me incredibly anxious about everything. Anxious about things I couldn’t quite understand. Reading Mark Fisher’s essays offers the same kind of resolve that a 4 am conversation with a friend over a glass table as your MDMA cap begins to wear off. His writing is strange, beautiful and empathetic.
Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
A truly harrowing study of morality. Equal parts a mystery, a love story and a critique of humanity. .
The Year of Magical Thinking, by Joan Didion
I am an unapologetic worshipper at the chapel of Joan Didion and The Year of Magical Thinking is my bible. There is something so cool, so poised and so painfully humorous about the way that Didion writes.
The Wind-up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami
Murakami is one of the greatest. The Wind-up Bird Chronicle is a stunning, bizarre portrait of suburban mundanity. There isn’t a a single Murakami book I’ve read that I haven’t loved with every fibre of my being, but I think this is the perfect entry point.
The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas
A revelatory, timely debut. The kind of book I wish I had read when I was a teenager. The Hate U Give is a testament to the eternal power of Young Adult Fiction. A painstaking story of a young woman forced to reckon with witnessing the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend at the hands of a police officer.
