My on-and-off relationship with mystery novels

Readers who have read this blog for a while know that I have read many, many mystery novels in my life, but that over and over again, since childhood, I have gone through a cycle regarding them. I have loved them, then have gotten tired of them, then somehow started a new phase of reading them. Over and over. (See my posts of 1/27/10, 1/5/16, and 11/12/16 on this topic, for example.) As a refresher: I have gone from the Nancy Drews and Hardy Boys of childhood, through the great classic British novels (some classified as “cozies”) (e.g., by Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers, Josephine Tey, and more recently, Elizabeth George), the stories of tough American women detectives (by, e.g., Marcia Muller, Sue Grafton), the historical mysteries (by Jacqueline Winspear, Charles Todd), and many more, including, fairly recently, Deborah Crombie, Louise Penny, and Donna Leon. I also sometimes re-read mysteries that I last read years or decades before (and therefore have conveniently forgotten the solutions to the mysteries). Often, unfortunately, I don’t find the same interest in those favorites of yore. For example, I re-read one or two novels of Josephine Tey and Dorothy Sayers, and did not feel the same about them any more. The exception was re-reading the always-wonderful P.D. James. In the past couple of months, I had one of my resurgences of reading mysteries, focusing on more Tana French novels, and on the Thursday Murder Club series, by Richard Osman. Those were enjoyable to read, but suddenly – I never know when or why this will happen – once again, I got tired of mysteries. By now I have accepted this ebb and flow of my interest in this genre, and the unpredictability of when it ebbs and when it flows. But I always return to mysteries eventually…

Two Books about Loss: "Seeing Ghosts," by Kat Chow, and "A Quiet Life," by Ethan Joella

Books about loss are often difficult to read, especially if one has recently lost a loved one, but are also sometimes comforting. “Seeing Ghosts” (Grand Central Publishing, 2021), by Kat Chow, is a memoir that focuses on the effects on the author of her mother’s death, as well as of all the deaths in the family’s history. The book is about family, history, trauma, and love; it is beautifully written and very evocative. Ethan Joella’s novel “A Quiet Life” (Scribner, 2022) tells the interwoven stories of three characters who have each had serious losses of someone close to them. Each character is vivid and relatable. When their paths cross in various ways, the three find ways to help each other. This is a sad but also hopeful novel, gentle and life-affirming.

Five Memoirs by Dani Shapiro

In my most recent post (2/2/23), I wrote with great admiration of Dani Shapiro’s newest novel, “Signal Fires.” Shapiro is known as both a novelist and a memoirist, and her memoirs are as wonderful as her novels. Today I write of her five memoirs, all of which I have recently read. “Slow Motion: A Memoir of a Life Rescued by Tragedy” (HarperCollins, 1998) is about her difficult and somewhat self-destructive youth. (I posted here on 8/14/11 about Shapiro’s article in which, many years after publishing this book, she struggles with the possibility that her now teenaged son will read it, and ponders the decisions that memoirists have to make when considering others in their lives.) Shapiro’s second memoir is “Devotion” (HarperCollins, 2010), in which she writes of her search for spiritual meaning in her life. Third to be published is “Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life” (Atlantic Monthly Press, 2013), which is a combination of memoir and advice about writing. Fourth, “Hourglass: Time, Memory, Marriage” (Knopf, 2017), about which I posted here on 9/7/17 (I read it back then, and re-read it this year), is a candid look at her own loving but complicated marriage (and which marriage is not complicated?). Finally (so far!), “Inheritance: A Memoir of Genealogy, Paternity, and Love” (Knopf, 2019) tells of a shocking and traumatic discovery the author makes about her own history, causing her to reconsider much of her life. Each of these memoirs is thoughtful, revealing, and beautifully written. Each addresses a different time period and/or focus in the author's life, and read together, they form a compelling whole. I hope Shapiro will continue to write memoirs, and I for one will read them all.

"Signal Fires," by Dani Shapiro

This post will be short and to the point. Dani Shapiro’s newest novel, “Signal Fires” (Knopf, 2022), is brilliant, gripping, and beautifully written. It makes readers reflect on family, memory, history, gender, youth and age, secrets, and the subconscious. But it is not only “about” these themes. It is mysterious, suspenseful, haunting, yet completely realistic. It makes the reader care about the characters. It reminds readers of events and people in their lives. You will not find more compelling characters than Dr. Wilf and the young boy Waldo. And yes, the plot draws readers in, but I don't want to spoil it by telling you too much about it, and the novel is so much more than its plot, with its mystery, pain, and transcendence.

"The Woman Next Door" and "Dele Weds Destiny"

Two novels I read this month are set in Africa. “The Woman Next Door” (Picador, 2016), by Yewande Omotoso, takes place in South Africa, and “Dele Weds Destiny" (Knopf, 2022), by Tomi Obaro, takes place mostly in Nigeria. Omotoso’s book focuses on two older women – both widows, both successful, one Black and one White -- who live next door to each other in a mostly white neighborhood in a suburb of Cape Town. They do not like each other at all, and Hortensia feels that Marion does not understand racial issues. Each woman is portrayed with understanding, pathos, humor, and most of all with dignity. Events bring them together in a common cause, and they become something close to friends. This perhaps sounds schematic, but the author reveals the gradual change in a believable way. Obaro’s book, in contrast to Omotoso’s, focuses on three young women in Nigeria who become friends during college, then go in different directions, but are always connected. They come together for the wedding of the daughter of one of the women, and various tensions and truths are revealed. Both novels deal with race, gender, class, family, culture, women’s friendships, and the effects of time on all of us. Both also have engaging characters and intriguing plots.

The Best Books I Read in 2022

Here I list the dozen best books I read in 2022, with the dates of my blogposts on those books. As always, most of them are novels, along with one short-story collection, one memoir, and two essayistic volumes. Eleven of the twelve are by women authors; one is by a man. What can I say? Regular readers of this blog know I mostly -- but definitely not only! -- read books by women. Most but not all of these twelve books were published in 2022. For convenience of reference to my blog for details, I list the books in chronological order of when I posted on them. 1. “Oh William!” by Elizabeth Strout (1/26/22). 2. “What About the Baby? Some Thoughts on the Art of Fiction,” by Alice McDermott (1/31/22). 3. “These Precious Days” [Essays], by Ann Patchett (3/31/22). 4. “The Swimmers,” by Julie Otsuka (4/9/22). 5. “Seeking Fortune Elsewhere: Stories,” by Sindya Bhanoo (5/15/22). 6. “Brown Girls,” by Daphne Palasi Andreades ((5/28/22). 7. “Love Marriage,” by Monica Ali (7/2/22). 8. “The Latecomer,” by Jean Hanff Korelitz (7/20/22). 9. “Lessons in Chemistry,” by Bonnie Garmus (7/24/22). 10. “Frances and Bernard,” by Carlene Bauer (10/12/22. 11. “Fellowship Point,” by Alice Elliott Dark (11/16/22). 12. “Stay True” [Memoir], by Hua Hsu (12/1/22).

Three "Topical" Novels: "On the Rooftop," "Young Jane Young," and "The Complicities"

Remember Bernie Madoff? Monica Lewinsky? The destruction of the Black Fillmore District in San Francisco? I have mixed feelings about fiction based at least loosely on real events in the news. When done well, such fiction can be illuminating; otherwise, it can appear unimaginative or even exploitative. I have just read three such novels, each based on events in the news during the last half of the 20th century or the beginning of the 21st century, and I felt each book added context, depth, and understanding regarding political/cultural/historical events, while also providing some of the other benefits and pleasures of good fiction, such as character, plot, and imagination. First, chronologically by event, is “On the Rooftop” (Ecco, 2022), by Margaret Wilkerson Sexton. It tells the devastating story of how the city of San Francisco’s predominantly Black district, the Fillmore, an area with a rich history and culture, was in the 1950s and 1960s destroyed for the financial benefit of powerful (mostly white) businessmen and politicians. The characters of this novel who live there are a mother and her three daughters (who are musicians), their friends and lovers, and their neighbors. Their personal stories are intertwined with the larger story of their neighborhood. This is a powerful revelation of one particular manifestation of racism and its effects. Next chronologically is Gabrielle Zevin’s “Young Jane Young” (Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, 2017), which features a young woman working for a Congressman who is drawn into a secret sexual relationship and eventually abandoned; when the relationship is discovered, it is she who is lambasted by the press and everyone else, not he. The novel mentions the Clinton/Lewinsky parallel, so the plot is not directly based on that event, but is emblematic of all too many similar instances. Finally, “The Complicities” (Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, 2022), by Stacey D’Erasmo, is narrated by the wife of a man who has committed massive financial fraud, crimes which have deeply harmed, even bankrupted, many clients who trusted him too much. The novel portrays the ways in which Suzanne has managed to not know what her husband was doing, and her struggles with her greatly reduced financial situation (as her husband goes to prison, and the two divorce), as well as her slowly coming to grips with her own complicity that the title alludes to. All three of these books are “topical,” which quality focuses the reader’s interest; all three also stand on their own in terms of being admirable fiction.