What We're Reading, Vol. 17
February may be the shortest month of the year, strictly based on the calendar, yet it somehow always manages to be one of the most eventful. With emotions running high (have you felt something yet?) and life throwing one event after another at us, reading is more important and therapeutic than ever.
Here are the books that are keeping us company this February…
Rachel Tay
For personal reasons, the year has been a long and languid limbo thus far. And, having exhausted my Netflix queue, I have been steadily rereading and going through my own library — lest I catch myself watching the new Goop docuseries one day. Thankfully, Miranda Popkey’s Topics of Conversation and Francesca Wade’s Square Haunting both arrived at my doorstep earlier this month, as if the book elves (or just the local postal services) knew exactly what I needed.
While the two books couldn’t have been more different — one is a group biography about the female writers who lived in London’s Mecklenburgh Square in the interwar period, the other weaves together a polyphony of conversations between women to surface a complex portrait of contemporary womanhood — at the heart of these titles is nonetheless a shared interest in women’s lives. More specifically: how women live, and how we ought to live. Granted, these are perennial questions that have been probed since the days of Victorian etiquette manuals or even Chaucer’s Wife of Bath. But, in the generous scope of Popkey and Wade’s respective books, one finds more than just exceptional models or permission for one’s being. Instead, there is the standard joy and sorrow of ordinary lives in progress, and with it, also the fuel for us to keep on exploring the possible permutations of “being women” in our many fantastic, desirous, brilliant, and messy ways. Amidst the present state of politics — dire — and the more minor crises of being in one’s early twenties, hence, I am utterly grateful for this little gleam of affirmation that the shapes of women’s lives are multitudinous.
On this note, next on my reading list are Jenny Offill’s Weather, Eimear McBride’s Strange Hotel, and Sophie Mackintosh’s Blue Ticket — each an idiosyncratic novel by authors with now-distinct voices, but each also a book well-received by reviewers and much-anticipated by myself. At the risk of sounding trite, I have to say that 2020 is an exciting year for women’s writing, and I cannot wait for what is to come.
Caitlin Carroll
I am a mood-reader, through and through, so I never create monthly to-be-read lists because anything, even the most innocuous conversation, will deviate me from my reading path. For example, I had intended to catch up on my literary fiction pile— Good Morning, Midnight by Jean Rhys deserves to be finished— but then I saw the trailer for The Green Knight and all of my plans have been derailed. Based on the epic tale, Gawain and the Green Knight, this film stars Dev Patel and looks fantastically eerie. Of course, now all I want to read is Arthurian legend, so I’ve pulled Parzival by Wolfram von Eschenbach out from among my lore stacks and have (once again) deluded myself into thinking I can finish The Faerie Queen by Edmund Spenser. Another, less intimidating, choice is The Guinevere Deception by Kiersten White, a twisted retelling of the Camelot court. I still might squeeze in Danez Smith’s newest poetry release, Homie, but I bet I’ll remain stuck in ancient Britain for a while longer.
Sam Cohen
I want to explore different genres in 2020 since there so many talented writers sprinkled across the literary landscape that I have yet to encounter. Sticking with this theme, I decided to pick up a copy of Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon. A young adult novel centered around 17-year-old Madeline Whittier and her exploration of love and the outside world, I was immediately enraptured by Yoon’s writing. She crafts the story in a way that feels familiar and reminded me of my own teenage dives into love and self-discovery. Everything, Everything is sweet, engaging, and full of surprises. I loved every single moment of this reading experience, and I can’t wait to see what YA has in store for me next.
And because I can never really stray too far from the beaten path, I have spent the first weeks of February engrossed in Joan Didion’s novel Democracy. Set in Hawaii during the tail end of the Vietnam War, Democracy follows main character Inez Victor as she navigates the complexities of marriage, infidelity, and murder. Didion’s fiction writing is stylistically unique, and her clear voice brings a sense of truth and finality to each sentence. I’m savoring every page and choosing to read this in small bursts as I’m alternately concerned and excited to see what happens next.
Zoë G. Burnett
Have you ever started reading a book only to feel within the first few pages that the author wrote it with you in mind? Theodore Roszak’s Flicker (1991) is one of a small library that’s gripped me so effectively. Recommended by Stephanie Quick during her interview on the Conspirinormal podcast, I was enthralled both by Quick’s passion for her work and her incredible sense of humor. Her brief synopsis of the novel immediately appealed, and I ordered the book before the episode’s end. Roszak is best known for his 1969 text, Making of a Counter Culture. His prominent academic standing and depth of esoteric knowledge is apparent in Flicker, at once reminding me of Donna Tartt’s The Secret History. Its protagonist’s tone, however, is more that of a seasoned post-doc than a wide-eyed undergrad. Following a hapless usher as he falls down the rabbit hole of film research, becoming entirely consumed by the field and his subject, might sound familiar to many Attic readers. Without giving away too much, I must mention how the paperback editions have done the book a disservice; don’t be put off by the covers. The story is not as salacious as the designs would have you imagine. In fact, you may find it to be quite the opposite.
Olivia Gündüz-Willemin
Imagine this: you’re rushing out the door for a trip and realize that you left the most important packing task for last and forgot to pick out a book for your journey. A reader who didn’t pack any books? A reader who didn’t go through their stacks and find something perfectly relevant to their trip? The shame floods your cheeks and rings in your ears as you run back inside. Your partner is calling out in the distance that the elevator is here and that you’re going to miss your train. “Wait!” you call out, “I forgot to take a book!” You have a three and a half hour train journey ahead of you and the bookshop at the station isn’t open so early in the morning. You don’t know what to do and don’t want to read something random. (You finished your previous book the night before, like any organized traveler does. If only that organization had stayed with you.) Still, you have no choice. You grab a book whose Virago Classic spine calls out to you and you run. An hour later, you pull the book out of your bag on the train and lo and behold, its plot is your plot. Its protagonist is a young American woman traveling to Paris. You’re a young American traveling to Paris. (Albeit, not for the first time.) All is well. The book gods have blessed you and given you a serendipitously thematic read.
Sure enough, Elaine Dundy’s The Dud Avocado came to me by chance as I ran off to Paris earlier this month, and it was a delight. I bought the book last year, knowing nothing more about it than the fact that our own Amy Richardson had recommended it to me as we stood in The Second Shelf bookshop in London. That had been enough for me to buy it immediately, without ever looking up the plot. And what a plot it is! An instant favorite, the novel follows Sally Jay Gorce as she spends two years in Paris on her uncle’s dime, determined to conquer the city. Perfect for anyone who watched the second season of The Marvelous Mrs Maisel and wished they’d gotten to see more of 1950s Paris, The Dud Avocado is both hilarious and dramatic. Edith Wharton with the mores of the Fitzgeralds, the novel will keep you entertained for hours on end.
M.A McCuen
February is always one of my favorite reading months because I teach three of my favorite texts- Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, and The Great Gatsby. This year I’ve been rereading Wuthering Heights and Gatsby alongside my students. It’s really fun to watch student’s reactions as they go through the books- including a favorite recent comment where a student said “Gatsby seems so great, but he’s really just a guy looking for love.” Outside of school, I’ve been doing a lot of light reading. I read two YA novels this month: As Many Nows as I Can Get by Shana Youngdahl and With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo. I especially loved Acevedo’s novel- the story of an Afra-Latina teen mom who aspires to be a chef and will not let anything get in the way of her dreams. I enjoyed Ayesha at Last by Uzma Jalaluddin which I included on my wintery rom-com list. I’ve most recently been reading How to Walk Away by Katherine Center which I am absolutely devouring. It’s the story of a young woman with a seemingly “perfect” future who is forced to reconsider everything after a horrible plane crash leaves her paralyzed in the hospital. It’s a really great balance of sincere storytelling with understanding for trauma, with also endearing characters and a hopeful plot.
Born and raised in the perpetually summery tropics — that is, Singapore — Rachel Tay wishes she could say her life was just like a still from Call Me By Your Name: tanned boys, peaches, and all. Unfortunately, the only resemblance that her life bears to the film comes in the form of books, albeit ones read in the comfort of air-conditioned cafés, and not the pool, for the heat is sweltering and the humidity unbearable. A fervent turtleneck-wearer and an unrepentant hot coffee-addict, she is thus the ideal self-parodying Literature student, and the complete anti-thesis to tropical life.
Caitlin Carroll is a writer, bookseller, and paralegal based in New England. When she's not reading or writing, she's loudly arguing about books and drinking tea.
Sam Cohen is a writer and editor based in New England. She lives with her wonderful partner Caleb, and enjoys learning new languages, drinking lattes, and spending time with her loved ones. Sam is an avid reader who practices yoga and tries to laugh as often as possible.
Zoë G. Burnett is a writer, menswear stylist, and film enthusiast based in Boston, Massachusetts. A born and raised New England Yankee, she feels equally at home in the 7th arrondissement. She is currently editing her first novel. You can read her personal blog here.
Olivia Gündüz-Willemin is Editor-in-Chief of The Attic on Eighth. She is dedicated to reading her way through the world and trying to stay as calm as possible.
M. A. McCuen is a secondary English literature teacher based in Omaha, Nebraska. Originally from Michigan, she has a BA in English and French from University of Notre Dame and a M.Ed from Creighton University. Having previously lived in France and Ireland, she spends her scant free time plotting ways to travel the world on her teachers salary.
Reading Naoise Dolan’s Exciting Times and Katie Kitamura’s Intimacies, Rachel Tay explores the unease of moving away from one’s own country and language.