november-december 2022 books…

Drawing Conclusions (Donna Leon): I’ve read and enjoyed a lot of Commissario Brunetti mysteries this year, but I have to admit that this was perhaps the least satisfactory to date. An elderly woman is found dead in her Venetian apartment, apparently having suffered a heart attack… although Brunetti suspects there’s more to it. Brunetti discovers that she had been part of an organisation that cares for abused women and that her apartment was a safe-house… and so he begins his search for answers. As usual, I loved the characters (although I could have done with more of his own home life – always entertaining) but, this time, I found the story somewhat pedestrian in nature and the storyline lacking Leon’s usual spark. Disappointing.
The Marriage Portrait (Maggie O’Farrell): I’m a great lover of O’Farrell’s books (Hamnet was probably my favourite book of 2021). The novel is essentially set in the years 1552-61 and tells of the real-life Lucrezia, aged 13, being married off to Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, as a last-minute substitute for her older sister, who died just before the wedding. She left Florence in 1560, aged 15, to begin her married life but, less than a year later, she would be dead. O’Farrell’s story was inspired by Robert Browning’s famous poem ‘My Last Duchess’ – a monologue which takes us inside the mind of the Duke of Ferrara, as he shows a painting of his former wife (Lucrezia) to a representative of the family of his next bride-to-be. When the novel opens, in 1561, Lucrezia is one year into her marriage, newly arrived at a ‘hunting lodge’ belonging to the duke. She becomes convinced that the vindictive Alfonso intends to kill her because she has failed to fall pregnant with the heir needed to secure his hold on the kingdom. It’s a rather disturbing, unsettling story of a time when ‘ladies’ were forced to follow the whims and dictates of their fathers (and mothers) and husbands. From the very beginning, you KNOW Lucrezia will die within a very short space of time and so the book is a tense re-imagining of the young Duchess’s inevitable demise. For me, not quite in the Hamnet category but, nevertheless, an impressive, beautifully-written, compelling book.  
The Heart Of Things: An Anthology of Memory and Lament (Richard Holloway): Holloway is one of my favourite writers/thinkers. He’s a great lover of poetry (in his own right) and poets and this anthology includes perhaps 50 poems, from both well-known and not-so-well-known poets, plus several of his own. In the book, he uses poetry as a link between various subjects – such as Mourning, Regretting and Forgiving. Although I frequently found his intellect left me desperately trying to play catch-up(!), again and again there were words that made me stop and think. For instance, I loved his reference to these words from Isaiah Berlin: “If you look… for some other goal, the moment will come when the singer stops and then you will only have memories and vain regrets because, instead of listening, you were waiting for something else…” (instead of listening, you were waiting for something else…). Holloway is somewhat older than me (he’s 89), but so many of his recollections resonated with my own, such as: “What I most regret is not paying enough attention to my children when they were young” (in my case, I thought I was paying attention at the time, but now realise I could have given them so much more). A rather lovely book. 
Sleepers Wake: Getting Serious About Climate Change (Nicholas Holtam): This is one of the resources I’ve been using during Advent; it’s the Archbishop of York’s Advent Book 2022. Holtam (he retired as Bishop of Salisbury in 2021) was the Church of England’s ‘lead bishop’ on the environment (and chaired the Environmental Working Group 2014-21). As one might imagine, given that background, the book is well researched and an excellent source for both information and reflection. I found it a challenging read, but a very apt subject for Advent… and, for me (currently struggling on my spiritual journey), one that provided me with a helpful focus leading up to Christmas. He doesn’t pull his punches and acknowledges that there’s been an awful lot of talk about the environment (and targets laid down) but, in practical terms, far too much lip-service and a disappointing lack of results. For example, in 2020, the General Synod of the CofE recognised the climate emergency (a little late in the day, one might think?) and committed the Church to becoming ‘net zero’ by 2030. Holtham was quick to point out that this constituted “an impossibly ambitious target”. It’s an excellent book and provides MUCH food for thought.
Beautiful World Where Are You? (Sally Rooney): I read Rooney’s first two novels in 2019, but it’s taken me a little time to get down to reading her third. I completely acknowledge that she’s a brilliant writer and this book, like the previous two, is full of dazzling (frequently funny, often cutting) dialogue. But, for all its literary delights, I found myself struggling with the book at times – or rather with the four characters (I really didn’t like any of them). The book focusses on the sexual entanglements of a prize-winning (but somewhat burnt-out) writer, Alice, and her old university pal, Eileen, both turning 30… and Simon, a political adviser, and Felix, a warehouse worker. At times, I found myself thinking that the book was simply Rooney’s excuse for expressing her opinions/frustrations/pleasures with the world/life/planet via a series of lengthy (they frequently ran to five pages), high-minded emails between Eileen and Alice – dealing with the sort of things that Rooney might well have simply extracted from her own personal diaries! I frequently found myself thinking “oh, for goodness sake!” (afterall, I’m just an old, intolerant codger!) at the behaviour and attitudes of these up-starts!
So, it’s the end of the year and I’ve just worked out that I’ve read a total of 70 books in 2022 (compared with 64 in 2021, 74 in 2020 and 94 in 2019).