Unlike my brother Ralph who finishes at least one book a week—at most three, he tells me—I didn’t even reach the 20 book count mark this year. Residency happened, you see; and since the start I’ve resolved to read more academic and medical books, less of fiction. But fiction keeps me sane and grounded. I undertook long reading projects, many of them remain unfinished, and chose short story collections to pass the time.
2015 has been a great year for reading, nevertheless.
1. My Struggle* by Karl Ove Knausgaard. I discovered the Norwegian journalist and writer through The New Yorker, where he was interviewed by Deborah Treisman, the magazine’s fiction editor. His work reads like a long, extremely well-written blog. Critics say that it’s funny to read the thoughts of a Scandinavian, an otherwise laconic, introverted people-group. I don’t know if that’s true. He takes us through his childhood, his drunk father, his friends, his discovery of writing. Why we keep on reading when the book is really all about the mundane—the author’s daily life—is a mystery, but they key is the great writing. I’m more than halfway through Book Two: A Man In Love. It deals with his relationships—his first and second (the current) marriages. I love the scenes when he meets with his writer-friend Geir, and they talk about philosophy and about other people. Knausgaard still cries a lot—in the vernacular, “mababaw ang luha.” The fourth volume has already been translated into English, released for distribution. I still have a long way to go, and many volumes to look forward to.
2. My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante. This year I was introduced to the Naples-based Ferrante, whose real identity we don’t know. What we know is that she’s female, has been divorced, and is intent on keeping her anonymity. Let the books speak for themselves,the author is unnecessary, she seems to say. This book is the first in the Neapolitan novels, which star Elena and Lina—two characters who both hate and love each other. They consider each other best friends. They grow up in a small, provincial town. Elena is the studious student; Lina the deviant, but, to Elena’s mind, even more brilliant. They seem to idolize and despise each other all the same. I love how Italian this book is—when Lina’s father gets mad at her, he throws her out of the window.
