Every year around this time, I check in on the reading goals I set for myself at the beginning of the year. I don’t worry about the number of books I’m going to read, but I choose about eight categories in which I want to read—an attempt to keep my reading experience broader than my fallback favorites. This is the point in the year at which I find out how I’ve done so far and become more intentional about meeting the remaining goals on my list.
This year, one of my as-of-yet unmet goals is to add to my “repertoire” of books by a particular author—someone whose books I’ve already read and enjoyed but who still has a number of other books I haven’t touched. Which writer do I most want to experience more deeply?
I’ve been pondering this over the last few weeks, and I’ve narrowed it down to three candidates. I’m curious to hear your recommendations on these possibilities.
First, Annie Proulx. Her novel The Shipping News is one of my favorites, but I’ve been somewhat disappointed by the rest of what I’ve read so far. The Shipping News tells the story of a down-on-his-luck news reporter whose job is to write the shipping news from the coast of Newfoundland. He’s kind of a mess but also a big-hearted guy learning to care for his two little girls, and he’s one of my favorite characters in fiction. So, when I picked up Accordion Crimes, I was expecting more of the same. The premise of this novel sounds less original today than it did back in 1996. The story traces multiple owners of the same old accordion. I had trouble latching on to any of the characters and really struggled to finish it.
When Barkskins came out in 2016, I decided to give Proulx another try. This multigenerational saga takes place in the boreal forests of Canada and spans the lives of the people living there, from the indigenous Mi’kmaw to French traders to their modern descendants. At some point, I realized what Proulx was really doing was cataloguing every type of violent, gruesome death she could dream up. Every story seemed to be arcing to that same point. I finished it, but I found it—well, weird.
And so we come to another Proulx project, also somewhat weird because it’s not in her lane: Fen, Bog, and Swamp: A Short History of Peatland Destruction and Its Role in the Climate Crisis. I say this isn’t really in her lane because it’s non-fiction, and she states right up front that she is not a scientist, but she became intrigued by how these wetlands operate. I’m really interested in this topic, but I’ve started this book twice and failed to stick with it. I might have tried to read Postcards, too. I’m not even sure.
So, why in heaven’s name would I be considering reading more Annie Proulx? Well, I’ve never read her most famous work, “Brokeback Mountain” (nor have I seen the movie). And also, the promise of The Shipping News was so compelling that I keep thinking there’s going to be another Proulx book I could love that much. So, in addition to “Brokeback,” I’m looking at Bird Cloud,
the story of designing and constructing [her] house [in Wyoming]—with its solar panels, Japanese soak tub, concrete floor and elk horn handles on kitchen cabinets. It is also an enthralling natural history and archaeology of the region—inhabited for millennia by Ute, Arapaho and Shoshone Indians— and a family history, going back to nineteenth-century Mississippi riverboat captains and Canadian settlers.
A quite different choice for fulfilling my “read more of the same author” goal is George Eliot. You may already know that Middlemarch is, like The Shipping News, one of my favorite novels. (In fact, it appears in the cover photo for this newsletter.) I’ve also read Silas Marner, which, even though it’s a great deal shorter, was a slower read for me. It relies on the old grumpy-man-redeemed-by-a-child theme. As much as I loved Middlemarch, you’d think I would have read more Eliot than this, but I haven’t, which is a pretty good argument for doing it now. My two choices for the next Eliot read would be The Mill on the Floss, considered to be her most autobiographical story, or Romola,
set in Renaissance Florence during the turbulent years following the expulsion of the powerful Medici family during which the zealous religious reformer Savonarola rose to control the city. At its heart is Romola, the devoted daughter of a blind scholar, married to the clever but ultimately treacherous Tito whose duplicity in both love and politics threatens to destroy everything she values, and she must break away to find her own path in life.
I’m a bit more intrigued by Romola simply because I’m currently finishing Galileo’s Daughter, also set in Florence, but earlier while the Medicis were still in power.
Finally, I’m thinking about Thomas Hardy. Like Eliot and Proulx, he’s the author of one of my favorite novels, Tess of the D’Urbervilles. I reread Tess a couple of years ago and loved it just as much as I had in my twenties. The only other Hardy novel I’ve read is A Pair of Blue Eyes, which I received as a Christmas gift one year. I was studying in England, and it was too far to go home for the holiday, so I spent it with my aunt’s family outside Stratford-upon-Avon. Somehow, my hosts, who were not my relatives and had never met me before, chose a great novel for me. I don’t recall anything about the plot, just that I enjoyed reading Blue Eyes, and it always reminds me of that Christmas. I’m sure I’ve also read some of Hardy’s short fiction and poetry, though damned if I can name any of it. Hardy was a prolific writer, so as with Eliot, it’s surprising I’ve never cracked open any of his other novels. I don’t even know which to choose: Jude the Obscure? The Mayor of Casterbridge? Far from the Madding Crowd?
There are other writers I could add to this list, but I think these three are my finalists. If you’ve read any of the novels I’m thinking of reading before the end of the year, please share your recommendations below!
Kathy, Read all the Hardy books! They are wonderful. Carla Horwitz
I haven't read Romola, but I highly recommend The Mill on the Floss.