My Best Reads of 2016

Every year, I try to read one hundred books. I’ll be closing out this year with a total of 103. Below I’ve listed my top ten, the ones that most stuck with me and moved me. My top reads this year were almost unfailingly harrowing and dark, possibly a sign of the times?

Here are a few diagnostics on my reading, as I do like to keep track of my reading diversity lest I slip into bad reading habits.

Fiction vs. non-fiction: 79/21

Poetry: 3

Male authors vs. female: 31/70

Multi-author anthologies: 2

Books written by PoC: 16

Indie-pubbed books: 11

pre-19th century books: 1

19th century books: 1

20th century books: 23

21st century books: 78

And my top 10 reads for 2016:

Blood & Earth, by Kevin Bales (2016): An unflinching look at modern slavery. One of the key points emphasized throughout the book was the way in which climate change and deforestation are related to the exploitation of people. Chilling, because the problem is so big, and humanity has so little ability to overcome its own weaknesses to fix these massive and likely world-destroying problems. I read this right before the election of Donald Trump, and I was pretty much in a dark hole of depression for weeks. Not sure I’ve crawled out of it yet, but I prefer to be informed rather than not. Required reading for understanding the massive and complex problems of slavery and deforestation and how they are related.

The Fifth Season, by NK Jemison (2015): Complex and fascinating adult fantasy with a well-constructed world and completely new and different magic. Like all the best fantasy, the book explored themes relevant to the world we live in today in symbolic layers.

Undaunted Courage, by Stephen Ambrose (1996): All the well-researched details of the Lewis and Clark Expedition in one well-told tale! My favorite things in this book were the details: men ate up to 9 pounds of meat per day, native women in Oregon wrapped ropes around their legs to create “swelling” that was a sign of beauty and status, squirrels made massive seasonal migrations with millions of animals traveling together. I enjoyed the treatment of the white men involved in the story (not so much any of the women or Native Americans. Although Ambrose did try, he’s an historian of the old-school, and if the historical record did not record much, he didn’t fill in gaps with supposition) I thought this book was, on the whole, a complex and fascinating exploration of a strange and particular dream and how it manifested, and a compassionate analysis of the men who pushed it into reality.

Sold, by Patricia McCormick (2006): A realistic tale of a girl’s harrowing life in Nepal and India, told in verse. This book has been much criticized for being “missionary” in tone, but my feeling is that it was a genuine attempt to explore a real problem and the existing means by which young women sold into sex slavery can get out. Many missionaries do vital human rights work, doing more to help, I imagine, than the folks criticizing the book because a white westerner happened to be the person who helped our main character out of her tragic situation. Yes, cultural differences need to be respected, but girls who are exploited and oppressed by the culture they live in deserve basic human rights, and it often IS well-meaning “westerners” who have the means to help, and in my opinion, that is a moral imperative to do so.

Men Explain Things to Me (2014): Rebecca Solnit’s seminal work about what it’s like to be a woman with a voice in the world. Her essays are always engaging and offer a fresh and unwavering perspective on Feminism today. She is an excellent essayist, able to capture complex thoughts and make new connections in her language.

Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer (1996): This book wins the award for most un-put-down-able this year. Krakauer’s true story about climbing Everest exposes the extraordinary hubris in the mountaineering community, and its fatal and disastrous consequences. This book will also make you think about the moral ramifications of “eco” and “adventure” tourism in a new light. I’ll be staying home to walk in the (very manageable) Marin hills, thank you.

The Gilded Hour, by Sarah Donati (2015): Rich historical fiction about two women supporting the initial emergence of birth control in Gilded Age America. The story was very engaging, but more, I appreciated the deep exploration of the lives of women during this era, and what birth control meant to them, versus what it means to someone like me, who has always had easy access to it. It was, quite literally, a matter of life and death for them—and yet the cultural resistance to allowing them access to it was deep and strong. This book showed the effects of this devaluing of female life in both harrowing and compassionate ways. It made me think about how many women in the world today are still in this exact same situation—unable to choose or control their pregnancies, their bodies literally falling apart with every successive pregnancy, their existing children threatened with loss of their mother with every subsequent birth.

The Painted Bird, by Jerzy Kosinski (1965): A disturbing tale  about how WWII affected a young boy. Reading this book was like looking at a painting by Salvador Dali—surreal and creepy, but almost perfectly executed. When I was reading, I didn’t think I could bear it, and I didn’t think it would make this list by any stretch of the imagination, but the resonance it still holds in my mind confirms it is a read of power and endurance. I need a stronger word than harrowing to describe this one, especially after reading a bit about Mr. Kosinski’s real life.

The Nightingale by Kristen Hannah (2015): Another disturbing tale of World War II, though this one was completely different from The Painted Bird. This one is about how war affected women, and I really enjoyed the intimate look at two sisters’ lives in France during the war. Like nearly all the books in this list, this one made me cry, but in this one it was because I was so invested in the two characters’ lives and story (rather than just from all the harrowing realities). If an author can get me to care so much about a character, that’s good story-telling.

Next year I’m going to continue to try to read more non-fiction and diverse literature. I’d like to try to read more work from earlier times.

Here’s a link to my complete Goodreads challenge if you’d like to see all 103 books I read this year: https://www.goodreads.com/user_challenges/3762052

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One thought on “My Best Reads of 2016

  1. Emily June,

    ONLY 103 books this year?! What DO you do with your exorbitant free time?

    Really, this is quite impressive. Your statistical breakdown and your extended comments on the ten titles were extremely interesting.

    I just got a TLS with a long article by dozens of its regular reviewers naming and commenting on their one or two favorite books of 2016. Quite a diverse set of titles. I mean to send the article on to you when I’m finished, thinking you might be curious about what other literati have found impressive this year.

    I was especially fascinated by your listing the Ambrose book on western exploration. I have been meaning to read that for decades. I also have another book by him waiting on my shelf about the building of the transcontinental railroad.

    Mom and I are fine. The Weavers is long since gone. A real treat.

    Wishes to you and Brady and Stella.

    Dad

    ________________________________

    Like

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