Bluestocking Catalogue #21
The best fiction I read in 2020, and my New Year's Resolution (it's probably not what you think.)
Hi, bluestockings! Welcome to the first newsletter of 2021.
I hope you’ve found some gentleness & peace as we ease into this new year, not despite the suffering around and sometimes within us, but in the midst of it. You are doing it. We are doing it. Sometimes it’s just one day, one minute, one breath at a time, but here we are. That is enough. You are enough.
As much as I’d like to outline My Big Plans and Ambitions for 2021, I know in my gut what I need and what I want (it’s mostly the same as three days ago, to be honest)- and gentleness towards myself is top of the list. My tendency is to treat myself with a harshness and rigidity I would never expect from others, and I’ve spent plenty of time being annoyed at Instagram platitudes that tell me to “just love myself.” If it was that easy, O Pastel-Inspired Influencer Sporting a Weird Font, I’d already be doing it.
Since love is an action, I find it helpful to think of “self-love” or gentleness as tangible practices. Here are some of mine: I love myself by being OK with changing my mind, or by deciding I need something different than I thought I would at the beginning of the day. I love myself by listening to my body and honoring her needs. I love myself by forgiving myself when I mess up, and by letting go of mistakes. I love myself by asking for help when I need it (and I struggle with this.) I love myself by making space for the things that make me happy, like art & silence & books. Altogether, I might catalogue these practices as flexibility, attention, forgiveness, self-advocacy, and play.
While this list is not intended to be cumulative in any way, I notice that these elements are ones I try to cultivate in my relationships with others. It only makes sense that they would work with my relationship with myself as well. But, like many of us, I assume, I’ve had to deconstruct and then re-learn what comes naturally to me when it comes to my relationship with myself. Growing up, sacrifice for others (especially men) was valued above all else. Especially as a person born with a vulva, I was expected to “put others’ needs above my own” in order to be a good person. (A lot has already been written about society’s unfair standards for women, especially when it comes to what the Nagoskis call “Human Giver Syndrome.” I won’t belabor the point here, but check out this podcast episode if you’re curious or if you long for others to name the weight of Always Being There for Everyone that you shoulder. For more, read their incredible book Burnout.)
Don’t get me wrong: I do believe we have a responsibility to each other in big and small ways. What I missed is that I also have a responsibility to myself. At first, I justified self-care as permissible because it allowed me to have the energy to care for others. Do you see the irony here? I needed the reason of “this will be helpful to others, so it’s okay” to justify care for myself, gentleness towards myself. (In case you’re an Enneagram enthusiast like me, yes, I am a two.) What I am starting to internalize, what I am practicing in order to believe, is: I care for myself because I am worth caring for. Period. And so are you.
Fiction Catalogue: 2020 Favorites
Are you ready for my favorite fiction I read last year?
I spent a lot of time earlier this week trying to solidify my list by first counting everything I’d read this past year. I read in a lot of places and ways - borrowing eBooks from the library, listening to audiobooks, and of course, reading physical books. I started a Goodreads account last year to try to keep track of my reading, but didn’t update it frequently.
So I catalogued (most of) the books I read, and then included my favorites below. I’ve already written about some of these, and you can find all of them in one place here on my Bookshop page. (The following links are affiliate links, which means I’ll earn a small commission if you purchase a book using my link. Of course you can also find them at your local library.) Ready?
Young Adult/ Fantasy:
The House in the Cerulean Sea - I wrote about this fantastic book here. TL;DR:
Klune sends strong message about what an authoritarian government means for society’s “misfits,” while imagining a more just, beautiful world. This book reminded me sometimes the simplest acts are most subversive, like embracing the full humanity of someone who’s different from you.
The Hazel Wood - If you loved Inkheart or if you like Stories About Stories or Stories in Stories, you’ll love this one. It’s been described as a twisted, dark fairy tale, which I am here for. I especially loved the nuanced discussion of fate vs. free will Albert weaves throughout the novel. I’m excited to read its sequel this year.
Red Queen - I wrote about this book here. I’ve since finished the series, and I deeply enjoyed it. Aveyard’s world-building was convincing but not over-done; the plot’s suspense kept me turning pages; and complexity of the character development kept me feeling emotionally invested in the main protagonist Mare, along with her family and friends.
Just YA, not fantasy:
Such a Fun Age I wrote about this book in the very first edition of Bluestocking Catalogue! TL;DR: a debut novel challenging white feminist saviorism you can read on the beach
On the Come Up - I listened to this on audio at Anne Bogel’s recommendation. Since the book includes lot of rapping, I enjoyed hearing it performed. I loved The Hate U Give, and Angela Thomas’ second novel did not disappoint. It is less overtly than political than The Hate U Give, but expresses the complexity and difficulty that Black teenagers have to deal with as they figure out who they are - and it shows how little space white society leaves for the inherent messiness of that process. Would pair nicely with Another Brooklyn.
By the Book: A Novel about Prose and Cons - I wrote about this one here. TL;DR: Our teenage heroine can quote Austen but doesn’t know anything about the politics of her local high school gives her new friends dating advice based on her favorite nineteenth-century novels. Basically, it was written for me.
Literary Fiction/ Other:
The Giver of Stars I wrote about this book here. TL;DR: This book is a love letter to female friendships, as well as to the power of books to create community, ease people’s lives, and expand imaginations.
Beach Read The author says it’s about writing block. It’s also about two competitive writers who decide to switch genres for the summer; their banter is smart & sassy, with strong Lizzy/ Darcy overtones. (Swoon.) As others have pointed out, the biggest flaw of this novel is the title, which is a bit confusing because the book takes place on a lake. Otherwise, 5 stars. FYI: This romance has what Anne Bogel calls some “open door” sexy scenes.
City of Girls I tend to read popular books a year or so late - probably because library wait times are shorter. Lots has already been said about this novel by Elizabeth Gilbert. I really enjoyed it, and my trend of preferring Gilbert’s fiction to her nonfiction continues. The main character is a 20-something trying to figure out what she wants and who she is in 1920s NYC. Its mood may be light (I described the prose as “bubbly like champagne” on Goodreads), but Gilbert’s feminist themes are not.
Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine A completely lovely, feel-good novel with a quirky protagonist who discovers that it’s not bad to need other people sometimes. (Per my essay above, I cannot relate to this at all.) For fans of A Man Called Ove.
Parable of the Sower A dystopian classic for a reason. Butler’s prose is incredible - sparse yet insightful, fast-paced and disturbingly believable; and I’m still thinking about this book 9 months after reading it. This is one of the more hopeful dystopian novels I've read to date. Its philosophical message is that change is the only constant.
My colleague Laura pointed out that her biggest difficulty with this book was that the protagonist Lauren is too perfect. I hadn’t thought about this, but agree that Lauren’s single-minded insistence on doing the right thing, even though it might be treacherous, can make her hard to relate to. I wonder if Lauren’s character will evolve in the sequels, which I’ve already purchased.
The Secret Place I went back and checked my mysteries newsletter, because I thought I had written about Tana French. Reader, I apologize, because Tana French’s Dublin Murder Squad Series were the best mysteries I read in 2020. My favorite in the series is The Likeness, but technically I read this at the end of 2019. The Secret Place is my second favorite in the series, and it takes place at an all-girls’ boarding school when a cold case cracks open past secrets.
As I’ve said, my favorite mysteries are gritty in that they don’t shy away from the human capacity to be cruel, but they also explore the depths of the human psyche and the complex forces that motivate us to act as we do. While I love a fast-paced plot and the twists and turns of a “who done it” mystery, I love most the humanity at the heart of a good mystery. Tana French is a master of that humanity aspect, and it doesn’t hurt that this series is set in Dublin, a city I have an inordinate fondness for. Reading these novels transports me back to my study-abroad days in Dublin, with its gray skies and narrow cobblestoned streets and frank, friendly people.
Whew, we made it - and I didn’t even cover all the books I had originally intended to! (They’re on my Bookshop page, though.) I have a hard time narrowing down favorites; but if pressed, I’d say my favorite book of 2020 was Such a Fun Age.
I’d love to hear your favorite books from 2020. Feel free to leave a comment, or simply reply to this email. And if you enjoyed this newsletter, would you mind forwarding it to a friend who you’d think would like it?
As always, thanks for being here. LOVE YOU MEAN IT.