Rebeki's 2010 reading

I'm back for a third attempt, although I managed only 40 books in 2009 and my record is 48. Anyway, that's not important. This year I have no aim but to read lots of great books and (as always) to reduce the number of unread books sitting on my shelves to a more manageable number. I'm also doing the 1010 Challenge (well, my version of it), but this is designed to reflect rather than dictate my reading. I wish you all a Happy 2010 full of reading!

Links: 1010 Challenge.
2009 50 Book Challenge.




Books read in 2010

1. Beautiful Antonio by Vitaliano Brancati
2. Talking to the Dead by Helen Dunmore
3. The Wall Jumper by Peter Schneider
4. Der geteilte Himmel by Christa Wolf
5. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
6. The Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon
7. The Dark Heart of Italy by Tobias Jones
8. Hygiène de l'assassin by Amélie Nothomb
9. A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf
10. The Leopard by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa

11. The Garden of the Finzi-Continis by Giorgio Bassani
12. This Is Serbia Calling: Rock 'n' Roll Radio and Belgrade's Underground Resistance by Matthew Collin
13. The Fall of Yugoslavia by Misha Glenny
14. Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky by Patrick Hamilton
15. The File: A Personal History by Timothy Garton Ash
16. A Legacy: A Novel by Sybille Bedford
17. Herr Lehmann by Sven Regener
18. Northern Lights by Philip Pullman
19. The Crow Road by Iain Banks
20. As If I Am Not There by Slavenka Drakulić

21. In Praise of Slow by Carl Honoré
22. The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman
23. Everything Is Wrong with You: The Modern Woman's Guide to Finding
Self-Confidence Through Self-Loathing by Wendy Molyneux
24. Digging To America by Anne Tyler
25. Tales Of The City by Armistead Maupin
26. The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman
27. I Served The King of England by Bohumil Hrabal
28. Tender Is The Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald
29. Half Of A Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
30. Nothing To Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick

31. An Education by Lynn Barber
32. Notes On A Scandal by Zoë Heller
33. Save Me The Waltz by Zelda Fitzgerald
34. The Green Hat by Michael Arlen
35. The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas
36. More Tales Of The City by Armistead Maupin
37. Street Without A Name: Childhood And Other Misadventures In Bulgaria by Kapka Kassabova
38. The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga
39. Neue Vahr Süd by Sven Regener
40. Der kleine Bruder by Sven Regener

41. The Ministry of Pain by Dubravka Ugrešić
42. Yugoslavian Gigolo by Zoran Drvenkar

Oooh, the first to come and catch up with you for 2010! Good luck, and looking forward to seeing what's up this year... :-)

My first visitor! Thanks for stopping by! I'm excited about the new reading year too - I love a new start :)

First up is Beautiful Antonio by Vitaliano Brancati, which I found in the library. I'd never heard of the book or author, but decided it was about time I read some Italian fiction (inspired by a forthcoming trip to Rome).

Good luck with your challenge. You read some wonderful books in 2009. And have a terrific time in Rome -- when will you go?

Hi and good luck with your reading. I like the way you said that it wasn't the number of books that mattered, but your aim was to read lots of good books, that is wonderful! I read a fair number of books about Italy and Italian subjects but I never heard of that author you mentioned either. I will have to check it out. Oh, and enjoy your trip to Rome, I can't wait to go back! Be sure to throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain (so you will return)!

Hi AMQS! Yes, I'm hoping 2010 will be as good, if not better, books-wise. I'm not off to Rome until mid-March, but it's important to have things to look forward to!

Hi kaida46! I would, of course, be very pleased if I managed to read 50 books this year, but I don't want that to influence my choice of reading.

I'm about halfway through Beautiful Antonio and so far so good. It's bawdy and comical, but also quite affecting.

I've been to Rome before - five years ago - and I clearly must have thrown a coin in the fountain!

After a hectic Christmas and New Year, I rewarded myself with a weekend of doing nothing in particular, which included more time spent reading than I can usually manage. As a result, I've made a much better start than last year and finished my first book. Yay! There may be SPOILERS below.

1. Beautiful Antonio by Vitaliano Brancati

As mentioned previously, I decided to read this book solely on the basis that I fancied reading some Italian fiction and this was what the 'Classics' section of the library had to offer.

This novel, set in Fascist Italy, is the tale of the impossibly beautiful Antonio Magnano, adored by all women and the envy of all men. After failing to establish himself in a career in Rome, Antonio returns home to Catania, Sicily, where he decides to marry Barbara Puglisi, the daughter of a prominent local notary. The couple seem to be blessed, yet, three years later, it emerges that Antonio is unable to perform that most important of conjugal duties. Whereas this would be a private matter today, in 1930s Sicily, it provokes a public scandal, bringing shame on family and causing all male acquaintances to question and seek to reassure themselves of their virility.

It took me a while to really engage with this book. The style seemed at first to be overly wordy, although I later grew accustomed to it and found it quite beautiful. My main problem, though, was the character of Antonio himself - he seemed so aloof and cold - like a marble statue - that I couldn't get any sense of him. However, once Antonio started to open up and reveal the extent of his problems, I realised that this was probably precisely the effect Brancati wanted to achieve. Antonio is as beautiful and as aloof as a sculpture. Women throw themselves at him on seeing him, without knowing what he is like as a person. He also remains untouchable and his hasty decision to marry Barbara, a woman he barely knows, is inexplicable to the reader at that point. But then Antonio becomes so crushingly human - or even subhuman, as it is made very clear that impotent is the very worst thing that a man can be...

While the attitude of the menfolk of Catania is quite comical on the surface and allows for some wonderfully bawdy expressions, it is also chilling. Women are described as objects and are there for the taking. Affairs and regular visits to the local brothel are par for the course for married men. The only female character who appears to have any steel about her is Barbara, but no doubt that is in contrast to Antonio's perceived lack of masculinity, and we are not afforded any real glimpse of her personality.

This is all in keeping with the bleak picture Brancati paints of the brutal and patriarchal Italy of the time, one heading towards self-destruction. The author, a reformed Fascist himself, wrote this novel shortly after the end of the Second World War and the story continues right up until 1943. He doesn't hold back in his criticism of the Fascist regime, but is barely any more hopeful about the alternative, depicting a human nature that is corrupt, self-serving, cruel and unscrupulous.

In spite of the above, I found this novel to be an enjoyable read. Antonio's father is a particularly comical character and Sicily is lovingly described by the author. Overall, a good and interesting start to my reading year.

Hello. I found you and have your 2010 thread starred. Good luck!

Good luck for this year - I enjoyed your 2009 thread.

If you are still after Italian fiction, have you tried The Leopard by di Lampedusa? (Sorry touchstone not working). An all-time classic - you've probably read it, but just in case!

Thanks, jintster!

As it happens, I haven't read The Leopard - I truly am a newcomer to Italian fiction. It's actually been in my Amazon basket for over a year, but I can't quite bring myself to buy a new (as opposed to second-hand) book when I have so many at home to read. But your post has prompted me to reserve it at the library. For some reason I'm sceptical about the reservation system, but here's hoping it works!

2. Talking to the Dead by Helen Dunmore

A book for my reading group and, according to a quote from The Times, one 'to read in one enthralling sitting'. Maybe that was the problem. Since I'm not paid to review books, I didn't have time to read it in one go and I didn't find it as gripping and exciting as others clearly did.

In the opening chapter, Nina, the narrator is talking about/to an unnamed recently deceased person. We then switch to Nina, about to arrive to stay with her sister, Isabel, in the country. Isabel, with whom she appears to have a close but not untroubled relationship, has just had a baby and all has not gone as planned. I don't want to say anything more specific about the plot for fear of giving something away, but the book essentially focuses on the relationship between the two sisters.

Dunmore certainly keeps the reader in suspense as to what, precisely, is the cause of the tension between Nina and Isabel and, at the end, I was left with as many questions as answers. The problem is that neither of the sisters really engaged my sympathy in any way. I'm sure that's deliberate - the novel is very well written and I could picture everything vividly, while the supporting characters, being perhaps less complex, seemed more approachable - but their aloofness meant that I wasn't as gripped as I should have been.

Just popping in to say Happy New Year and that I have been enjoying your reviews. I would also like to second The Leopard which I had never heard of before reading it last year. I can't wait to hear about your trip to Rome.
--BJ

A belated Happy New Year to you too, billiejean! Sorry - I've been a bit busy of late. Well, I'm happy to say that I seem to have got the hang of the library reservation system and will be collecting a copy of The Leopard later today. I have quite a high immediate TBR pile, but it will have to make way!

3. The Wall Jumper by Peter Schneider

This is a short novel that caught my eye in the library, as I'm fascinated by recent German history in general and anything to do with the Berlin Wall in particular.

To some extent it reads like non-fiction. The narrator, a West German who has moved to West Berlin, tells of acquaintances that have crossed the wall in both directions and recounts third-hand anecdotes about those who have managed to cheat the concrete monstrosity. It is 1979 and the wall is middle-aged. Much of what I've read about it (all of which has been non-fiction) has focused on the actual building of the wall and the shock felt by Berliners in the immediate aftermath, but here everyone seems to have grown accustomed to it.

Instead, Schneider looks at the barriers existing in people's heads. In the narrator's conversations with East Berliners, there is a latent tension. Thirty years previously, this would not have been the case, but now there is a distinct 'you and us' feeling. On each side, there is a certain defensiveness. West Germans are incredulous as to how East Germans can bear the level of state interference and at their cynicism in dealing with it. East Germans are disgusted by the showy consumerism in the West and the way it appears to kowtow to the US.

There is also a general atmosphere of uprootedness. Some East Berliners may have chosen to move West, but they are unable/unwilling to assimilate. Similarly, the narrator has chosen to leave West Germany proper, where cities seem 'artificial', for the enclave of West Berlin, but seems to lead just as solitary and detached a life.

In some respects, I was reminded of Christopher Isherwood's Berlin novels and, while I can't say I enjoyed this book as much, it was a very illuminating read.

oh The Leopard will be a treat!!! i read it last year and it's become one of my all-time favorite reads. i'm sure you will enjoy it too. so you're having a small Italian jaunt -- hmm, plenty to love there. i have a couple of italian authors too that i hope to get to soon -- Carlo Levi and Alberto Moravia.

about book #3 -- the theme is certainly worth reflecting on. it's quite bewildering to note that while only few physical barriers remain today, the barriers that exist in people's heads is still something many people have to deal with everyday.

btw, i've joined Club Read 2010 -- you can catch me there.

Deebee - yes, I am having an Italian jaunt, so won't be starting my reading adventures in Russia and the former Yugloslavia all that soon. I plan to start The Leopard next week. In the mean time, I'm (slowly) making my way through the non-fiction book The Dark Heart of Italy. It's funny - Italy seems such a familiar country (as a tourist destination, producer of great food, the birthplace of the Renaissance etc.) - and yet I realise that I know nothing about it really. And two years ago, aside from Dante, I doubt I could have named a single Italian writer, which is pretty dreadful...

On the subject of the The Wall Jumper, you hear a lot about the 'Mauer im Kopf', but reading this book is the first time I've been able properly to understand it.

I have your Club Read thread starred too!

4. Der geteilte Himmel by Christa Wolf

Following on from The Wall Jumper, another book dealing with divided Germany, and, this time, one I own!

In spite of the fact I studied German, am happy enough speaking the language and generally have few oral comprehension problems, I always struggle reading German literature. I didn't understood everything I read of this book, but it didn't spoil my enjoyment at all.

It is autumn 1961 and a young woman, Rita, is recovering in hospital. The circumstances surrounding her 'illness' become clearer later on, but is obvious that she has suffered some sort of breakdown or trauma. From her hospital bed she looks back on the events of the last two years and her relationship with Manfred, who is now 'gone'. Since it is 1961, the reader has a strong suspicion of what this 'gone' might mean.

This book is both a a story of love gone awry and a portrait of the GDR in crisis. I wasn't sure what to expect from a book written by a GDR writer, but I was surprised to see that Wolf doesn't shrink away from criticising aspects of living and working conditions in East Germany, although the book's ending is much more of an endorsement.

I have to say that I didn't always grasp the meaning of the disputes and developments at Rita's workplace and read the book primarily as a love story. It's a testament to Wolf's writing that I was in floods of tears by the end.

Hi Rebeki

I'm looking forward to your thoughts on The Leopard, it's on my Amazon wish list.

P.S. I like your ladybug ticker at the top, tried to add one to my thread but could not get it to work properly.

Thanks, Kaida. I'm afraid I've developed a kind of reader's block over the last few weeks as a result of working too hard! Anyway, it looks like it's about to pass, so I'll get stuck in to The Leopard again. So far, so good, but it seems to be the kind of book you need to give your full attention to.

#20 - I just noticed this message. Did you use Ticker Factory? If so, did you make sure to copy and paste the html link (as opposed to other versions of it) to your thread? Sorry if this sounds patronising. I'm not actually very technically-minded, but was just thinking through what could go wrong. Although, with technology, things sometimes go wrong in spite of your best efforts!

5. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

I think my reader's block may have been partly connected with anxiety over this book. I'd selected it as my choice for the reading group I attend, not having read it myself, but having read about it on Belva's (rainpebble's) thread last year. We've only recently started a system of selecting the books ourselves, with the selector then leading the meeting on her respective book. So, illogically, I was anxious as to how it would be received my fellow members (which is obviously stupid, because we all like to read different things and it's not my fault if someone doesn't like a book) and, slightly more logically, I felt a bit of pressure to have in my head lots of questions and insightful things to say about the book!

Anyway, I really enjoyed the book. It's the story of Janie Crawford, a woman living in the southern US in the early 20th century, who's married off at 16 by her well-meaning grandmother. When this marriage fails to live up to her expectations, she escapes to Eatonville, an all-black town in Florida, with an ambitious new suitor, but this new life also leaves her disillusioned. Eventually Janie is able to break free and 'travel to the horizon'. (I hope I'm not giving too much away - I think the back of the book says as much.)

In any case, it wasn't so much the story I loved, but the writing. TEWWG is full of poetic language and striking imagery that creates very vivid pictures in the reader's mind. It's the kind of book you need to read slowly and savour, not least because the dialogue is written in dialect, which, in my view, only adds to the atmosphere - I felt like I was entering a new world. And, in a sense, I was - it's the first time I've read a novel with a whole cast of non-white characters and this was refreshing because 'blackness' became less of an issue. Of course it's an issue that will always (for the foreseeable future) be there to some extent, but here it was secondary to Janie's story.

Anyway, I'm very glad to have broadened my own horizons slightly and read this book, so thanks, Belva, for inspiring me to read it!

Interesting about Their Eyes... I took it out of the library once and then it had to be returned before I got to it. I haven't gotten back to it since, but your review puts it back on my list!!

Hi ljbwell, it's definitely a book you need to give some time to. It's not very long or heavy, but definitely best read without worrying about library due dates!

6. The Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon

A library book that had been hanging around too long. It was the title (and brevity!) that attracted me to this and I'm very glad, as it was a real joy to read. Set in the 1950s, this novel is essentially the observations of Moses, a Trinidadian immigrant to London, about the lives of him and his friends: young, single Caribbean men in search of work, women and their next meal.

The title had me thinking that this would be a depressing read, but although life isn't easy for Moses and co., I found the book to be wonderfully warm, touching and funny. The attempts at catching pigeons and seagulls stick in my mind! There's a great cast of characters and I love the depiction of London: foggy, wintery and unwelcoming one minute and joyful, summery and seductive the next. And, as a relatively new arrival to the city, albeit from not all that far away, I can also relate to Galahad's sense of excitement at being to say 'I'll meet you at Charing Cross'. Even if the reality behind these grand names is rather mundane. I also loved the fact that it was written in a mixture of Caribbean dialect and Standard English, which is not at all as difficult to read as it sounds.

My favourite book of the year so far!

7. The Dark Heart of Italy by Tobias Jones

With the threat of a strike by BA cabin crew, our trip to Rome is looking uncertain, but, if nothing else, I've been learning about Italy.

The book's author is a British journalist, who wrote the book while living in Parma. It is split into several chapters, each ostensibly dealing with a different subject, although most of them, perhaps inevitably, touch on corruption and Italy's political problems, past and present.

I enjoyed the chapters about language, the importance of aesthetics, and football best, but reading about Berlusconi was both fascinating and horrifying. It was also interesting to read about the country's anni di piombo, although the endless trials, retrials and historical revisions confused me and, being completely unfamiliar with recent Italian history, I was unable to keep track of all the individuals mentioned.

The book was originally published in 2003, but Jones wrote a revised postscript in 2007, in which he responds to some of the more reasonable criticism levelled at the book. I liked the fact that he was honest enough to admit where he'd been rather sweeping or unfair. There's no doubt that he's writing about Italy from a left-of-centre Northern European point of view, but that suited me fine, as I'm sure it coincides with my own.

The Lonely Londoners sounds interesting - on the list it goes!

Ljbwell, it's definitely worth a look. I found it fascinating to read about a familiar city from an unfamiliar point of view.

8. Hygiène de l'assassin by Amélie Nothomb

Amélie Nothomb's first novel, although by no means the first of hers I've read. It is essentially a conversation between the misanthropic and reclusive Nobel-Prize-winning author Prétextat Tach and five journalists who have been granted an interview with him following the news that he is terminally ill. While the repugnant Monsieur Tach succeeds in driving away four of the five journalists, the fifth proves more of a match for him and the bulk of the novel is a verbal dual between the two.

Nothomb's imagination never ceases to amaze me and I love her use of language, even though it tasks my less-than-perfect knowledge of French. However, this book didn't grab me as much as some of her others and I felt, at times, that it was a little bit too clever for me. I think I prefer her 'autobiographical' works.

In The Leopard news, I started the book a while back, then found myself deluged with work and unable to concentrate properly. It is definitely a book that requires full concentration, so I started all over again at the weekend and am now halfway through and enjoying it immensely.

9. A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf

I found this short book somewhat difficult to follow. Indeed, at the end of the first chapter I wondered where Woolf was going. However, I soon saw the point of the comparison of two dinners Woolf had attended, one at a men-only Oxbridge college and the other at a women's college. I had never thought before of how crucial lack of material want and independence were to the act of writing and creating, but I now understand the full meaning of the Woolf quote "One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well."

I also particularly like this sentence: "For the reading of these books seems to perform a curious couching operation on the senses; one sees more intensely afterwards; the world seems bared of its covering and given an intenser life." This sums up for me the complementarity of reading and "real life".

10. The Leopard by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa

This is a book that requires your full attention, so rich is the language and detail. We see the Risorgimiento, or unification of Italy, through the eyes of the Sicilian aristocrat, Don Fabrizio, Prince of Salina. For his family, it means the decline of their wealth and importance and, as such, this is a novel tinged with sadness. However, it is also a witty one, and Don Fabrizio is a man of sharp intelligence, who recognises that, in the short term at least, it is better to accept change in order to remain the same.

The action seems to move slowly, as if under the influence of the stifling Sicilian sun, but it is a book that really draws you in: I felt I was there among the proud Salina family, and am now filled with the desire to visit Sicily. I was excited to find that a one-hour documentary on the novel is showing on BBC Four tomorrow evening (albeit one from a partially food-related angle).

This is a definitely a book I will revisit, as I'm sure there's much I missed the first time round.

I wonder what Woolf would have said about some of the greatest names in literature who lived in penury and in some cases, have had to rely upon patronage, so obviously did not "dine well", yet produced such works of brilliance. Think James Joyce, Edgar Allan Poe. This also brings to mind Knut Hamsun and his novel Hunger which is considered semi-autobiographical. Also I'm reminded of some of the world's greatest composers and artists who lived and died in poverty -- just proof that (extreme in some cases) lack of material conditions do not necessarily crush artistic genius and creation (think Mozart, Van Gogh).

Hi deebee, I think my review (if you can call it that) oversimplifies and/or conflates her views (sorry - I'm tired and actually finished the book over a week ago, but only just found time to record my thoughts here!). I think that in comparing the conditions at male and female colleges, she was questioning why they should be different.

But in answer to your question, I suppose she might argue that women, in the past, would find it harder to receive that patronage, since writing wasn't supposed to be for them. With no financial independence and without the support of others, it would be much harder for them to find the time and space for writing. But you're right of course that poverty and hunger are not necessarily any impediment to creation and may even prove a driving force. However, in general, not having to worry about more practical concerns must free up a lot of time and energy that can be spent instead on an activity such as writing.

I'm not a big fan of Woolf, but I really enjoyed Orlando...if you haven't read it, I strongly recommend you to try to get hold of a copy. It also deals with the difficulty of women at that time to be taken seriously as writers, but here, Woolf handles this dilemma in a very unorthodox way. It is a fantastical and an exuberant read, and easier, I think, to follow than her other books.

Glad to know you enjoyed The Leopard. I love that book, isn't it fantastic how it draws you in! I'm now reading Roth's The Radetzkly March which is also about a family caught in the transition between the old and the new (the decline of the Austro-Hungarian empire) and has been compared to The Leopard, but it doesn't grab me as much as the latter did. It must be all that Sicilian sun and countryside...

No, I haven't read Orlando, but I'll look out for it. I'm not sure I get on with Woolf particularly either. I enjoyed Mrs Dalloway (read in conjunction with The Hours), but really struggled through The Waves.

The Radetzky March is one of my favourite books and I was definitely reminded of it when reading The Leopard. The latter seemed less melancholy though - perhaps, as you say, it's the sunshine or perhaps it's the pragmatic nature of Don Fabrizio and Tancredi. There was also a lot less drinking! I don't know about you, but reading The Radetzky March made my liver ache, if such a thing's possible!

11. The Garden of the Finzi-Continis by Giorgio Bassani

I concluded my brief foray into Italian literature with this book, the title of which I found rather appealing. The nameless narrator (who I imagine to be a strongly autobiographical figure) tells of his infatuation with the wealthy Finzi-Contini family, in particular their daughter Micòl, against the backdrop of the growing discrimination against Jews and the approach of the Second World War. As a child, he observes the family, resented by the rest of the Jewish 'community' for their apparent aloofness, from afar, but, as a student, he finally enters their world as the social exclusion of Jews escalates. With conditions worsening outside, the Finzi-Contini household becomes a place of refuge for young Jews.

I was strongly reminded when reading this book of Brideshead Revisited. Both books are stories of doomed love coloured by the ever-present menace of war. While Bassani's intellectualism was sometimes a bit too much for me, I found the book to be very evocative and beautifully written. Definitely recommended.

12. This Is Serbia Calling: Rock 'n' Roll Radio and Belgrade's Underground Resistance by Matthew Collin

This is a hardhitting but highly readable account of life in Belgrade between 1989 and 2004, told from the particular viewpoint of the radio station B92. As Milošević dragged the once relatively prosperous and liberal Serbia into wars with its neighbours and former allies, this seemingly insignificant and alternative radio station became the last source of independent news for the people of Belgrade and played a part in keeping resistance alive.

Rather than focusing on the various military operations, Collin keeps the action firmly in Serbia's capital, looking at what life was like for ordinary Serbs as the wars in Croatia, Bosnia and Kosovo unfolded and they endured the NATO bombing of 1999. The book is packed with quotes (sometimes too many!) from B92 staff and students and others actively opposed to the Milošević regime. I found it an extremely gripping and informative read and I recommend it to anyone interested in this region of Europe.

I'm abandoning a book for the first time this year. I was supposed to read The Return by Victoria Hislop for my reading group. I'm finding the writing mediocre and too long-winded. I could make it to the end if it was a question of 300 pages, but I'm not sure 590 pages of mediocrity is worth the time and effort. It's a shame, because the book is largely set during the Spanish Civil War and the group member who chose it is Spanish and of an age where the aftermath of the war probably had an impact on her life. I look forward to hearing her thoughts and why she rates the book so highly, but I just can't read anymore.

Instead, I'm continuing my reading about the Balkans with The Fall of Yugoslvia by Misha Glenny.

I seem to be a little fussy about my reading at the moment. As some light relief to the wars in the Balkans, I picked up Miss Garnet's Angel by Salley Vickers, the choice for the reading group's March meeting, which I was unable to attend. I was enjoying the writing and had become rather fond of Miss Garnet herself, but decided, 100 pages in, that I had no patience with the story. If the meeting was still ahead of me, I would have continued, but I was becoming impatient to read some of the books I have at home (a good sign!) rather than books chosen for me by others.

13. The Fall of Yugoslavia by Misha Glenny

I bought this book from one of the second-hand stalls under Waterloo Bridge and unfortunately bought the first edition, which was published in 1992. I believe Glenny subsequently updated the book in 1996 and 1999. As a result, it only covers events in the Yugoslav wars up to May 1992, so there is no mention of Srebrenica or the rest of the war in Bosnia.

However, that aside, this was an excellent book. Glenny, who reported on the violent break-up of Yugoslavia for the BBC, clearly has a thorough knowledge of the politics and history of the region and, as part of his job, travelled between the various conflict areas speaking to local people. While I can't claim to have taken in all the details of the military operations described, these personal accounts keep things interesting, as does the fact that Glenny is not afraid to put forward his opinion as to where (the former) Yugoslavia's politicians and the international community went wrong.

I haven't been here for a while, partly because of problems with my Internet connection and partly because I've been on holiday. I've finished four books in that time and will attempt to write reviews of them. However, since my memory of them grows dimmer by the day (I love reading, but forget so much of what I read - I suppose there's just not enough room in my brain to retain all the information!), these reviews will probably be a bit shorter than normal.

14. Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky by Patrick Hamilton

I think this is my favourite fiction book so far this year. It's an epic look at life in the grimy, smog-ridden London of the 1930s, seen through the eyes of barman Bob, his love interest - the prostitute Jenny - and his colleague Ella. Their lives are mundane and examined in minute detail, so this probably isn't one for people who like fast-paced plots and plenty of action, but I loved it. For me, it's a brilliant study of human nature, with characters you may not entirely like but can identify and empathise with (although I found Ella a very sympathetic figure) and a powerful illustration of the hold money has over those who don't have enough of it.

15. The File: A Personal History by Timothy Garton Ash

I bought this book to accompany me on my holiday to Germany, which involved a visit to the Stasi Museum in Leipzig and the former Hohenschönhausen prison in Berlin.

Timothy Garton Ash is a British historian and political commentator with a particular interest in Central Europe. In the late 70s he travelled to Germany, living first in West Berlin and then moving across the border to East Berlin. Ostensibly studying Nazi-era Germany, he was just as interested in contemporary Germany (and the GDR in particular). With the fall of the Wall and reunification, he discovered that the Stasi, believing him to be a spy, had kept a file on him. In this book, he attempts to reconstruct his movements through his own memories and through his Stasi file (there are some divergences) and then to track down the Stasi officers responsible for monitoring him and the informers who assisted them.

The result is a fascinating look at life in the GDR and its informer society. It's also an interesting examination of memory, which so often is unconsciously or wilfully unreliable. Garton Ash also discusses the issues connected with Germany's decision to lay open the Stasi files for their respective subjects to see. While it is generally commendable, the matter of naming and shaming informers is far more complicated. As I think Garton Ash notes, there is no black and white, only light grey and dark grey.

16. A Legacy: A Novel by Sybille Bedford

Continuing the German theme, I read this semi-autobiographical novel by Sybille Bedford, who was born in Germany, but, after living all over Western Europe, appears to have settled in England and wrote in English. It is both a family saga and a portrait of the different faces of newly united Germany in the late 19th-century, represented here by the bourgeois Jewish Merz family in Berlin and the eccentric, Francophile von Feldens in Baden. Bedford's style of writing is lofty and accomplished, but the reader has to do some of the work. Many things seem to be left unsaid and I'm still not sure I drew the right conclusion about one event. Nevertheless, I found this an absorbing, beautiful and heartbreaking book.

17. Herr Lehmann by Sven Regener

I think this is published in English as Berlin Blues, which seems quite an appropriate title. While this novel has some laugh-out-loud moments, it is also very melancholy. Set in autumn 1989, this is the tale of Frank Lehmann, who, for the last nine years, has been enjoying a carefree life in the bohemian district of Kreuzberg in West Berlin. However, as his 30th birthday approaches, this life seems to be unravelling. The characters are very well drawn and I particularly liked the depiction of Herr Lehmann's parents. Intriguingly enough, this book is the first in a Lehmann trilogy to be published and yet it is also the last, as the next two books (which I happily now own) deal with the character's life growing up in Bremen and his arrival in Berlin. I look forward to reading them.

18. Northern Lights by Philip Pullman

I'm not sure why this book has a different title in North America, but, for the benefit of any North Americans reading, I'm talking about The Golden Compass!

Considering this is a book aimed at children, albeit older children, it took me an astonishingly long time to read. I suppose the sad truth is that my imagination is far less agile and sharp than it was when I was a child or teen. This is no doubt the same for many people, but I'm aware that the books I read tend to be very much rooted in reality - I'm generally no fan of the fantastical. This book certainly exercised my rather flabby and lethargic imagination and alerted me to the need to widen my reading.

Philip Pullman clearly has no such problem and has created a world that is, in some ways, very recognisable and, in others, completely alien. I cannot begin to summarise the plot - and in any case it will already be familiar to many, since this book is the first in a very popular trilogy that I've been rather slow to get round to reading - but, through the eyes of the lively and resourceful 11-year-old Lyra, we are taken on an exciting journey to the Polar North. I now look forward to reading the rest of the trilogy, in which it seems the reader will be taken still further afield.

19. The Crow Road by Iain Banks

The latest selection by the reading group I attend. I was looking forward to reading this one, as it received a great deal of acclaim when it was published and I wasn't disappointed. I had braced myself for a bleaker, more depressing book (lazy stereotype of books set in Scotland!), but in spite of the prevalence of death in The Crow Road, it remained humourous and enjoyable.

The novel begins with student Prentice McHoan returning home for his grandmother's funeral and finds him investigating events in his family's history, in particular his Uncle Rory's disappearance. This is essentially a rambling family saga; the plot isn't tight enough for it to be a mystery story. However, the characters are well drawn and Prentice an extremely likeable protagonist, so I struggled to put the book down. The lovely descriptions of the Argyll countryside and the endless whisky drinking have now filled me with a desire for a Scottish holiday...

20. As If I Am Not There by Slavenka Drakulić

This is probably the most harrowing book I've read this year, but one that I found hard to put down, so eager was I to reach the light at the end of the tunnel.

It tells the story of S., a Bosnian schoolteacher, taken one day in the summer of 1992 from her village to a Serbian prison camp. Before long, she is moved to the "women's room", where a group of women prisoners are placed at the mercy of the Serb soldiers' "needs". Since the novel begins with S. looking back on her horrific and somehow unreal experiences, we know that she is, in some sense, one of the "lucky" ones, and yet it is a far from conventional definition of "lucky". I read several of the pages with my hand over my mouth in horror, but the prose is spare and matter-of-fact, reflecting the fact that rape, murder, torture and humiliation had become normality in the context of the war in Yugoslavia.

This is a far from pleasant read, but it is an extremely important reminder of how easily we can descend into inhumanity and that we must guard against it at all costs.

I couldn't read this book more than a few pages at a time. It has been a couple of years since I read it but the images have stayed with me.

Your last line said it all...I couldn't agree more.

Deebee, I took a look at the reviews on LT before I began it and saw (and thumbed) yours. At first, I had the same experience as you, but after a while I felt the need to finish it as soon as possible. Reading it before going to sleep wasn't necessarily the best idea though...

21. In Praise of Slow by Carl Honoré

An interesting, thought-provoking and highly readable book by a Canadian journalist on the rise of the Slow Movement. It describes some of the movement's efforts and looks at the advantages of slowing down in areas of life as diverse as eating, our physical surroundings, work, bringing up children and sex.

I found the parts dealing with the introduction of the first clocks and the changing nature of the workplace the most fascinating, particularly the prediction that as technology advanced we would end up working shorter hours. How wrong it turned out to be!

In dealing with so broad a subject, the book can only skim the surface of the various aspects of life where slowness might be a virtue, but it's a good starting point for exploring these issues in greater depth and has made me question how I think of and use my time.

22. The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman

This is the second book in the His Dark Materials Trilogy. Perhaps because I'd already been initiated into the world(s) Pullman has created or perhaps because the book begins in the world we know, I found it much easier to get into. The heroine, Lyra, is joined by Will, a boy from "our" world, who has a mission of all of his own.

I find it very difficult to comment on this sort of book, but I'm enjoying the trilogy and have just started the final book, The Amber Spyglass, eager to find out how events resolve themselves.

23. Everything Is Wrong with You: The Modern Woman's Guide to Finding Self-Confidence Through Self-Loathing by Wendy Molyneux

Since the hot weather and overwork seem to have turned my brain a bit mushy, I decided to pick up this parody of self-help books and women's magazines, an impulse buy from earlier in the year. While it made me laugh out loud when I was reading it in the bookshop, I didn't seem to find it as funny reading it cover to cover at home.

Nevertheless, it is amusing and cleverly done and, at the same time, makes a serious point about the messages being fed to women by the media. It's more suitable for a US/North American reader, as I didn't get all the pop references.

So, not a keeper, but an entertaining enough way to while away the time, and I did learn the astonishing fact that it's illegal to buy/sell a vibrator in several of the US states.

It's illegal to buy a vibrator... unless it's for law enforcement purposes!(!!!!)

Or some other ones. But yeah. The law enforcement bit is my favorite.

Hi pammab - that's even more mindboggling!

I just found the language for one of the states -- was curious and wanted to be complete, you know. So, in Alabama, it's only legal to buy a vibrator if it's for "a bona fide medical, scientific, educational, legislative, judicial or law enforcement purpose." I can't imagine what some of these purposes would mean.

There are still some sex toy stores in the handful of states that still have these laws on the books, but most of them require you to sign a waiver or even present documentation that your use of the product will be legal -- i.e., not for pleasure.

In any event -- yes, utterly mindboggling. How did the topic even come up in a book with a title like Everything Is Wrong with You: The Modern Woman's Guide to Finding Self-Confidence Through Self-Loathing?

Hmmm, I suppose the definition of "educational" could be stretched somewhat, although I have no idea how someone could provide the correct documentation! Still, it sounds like people are managing to get round the law if there are shops in those states that find it profitable to sell sex toys...

In spite of the flippant title, I think this book is delivering a serious message - Molyneux claims she was going to publish a book entitled "I'm Perfect Just The Way I Am - Join Me!", but then goes on to say, "Clearly, if we were perfect, there wouldn't be an entire industry churning out magazines month after month to help us."

So, in the course of her parody, she inserts some serious facts such as the one above (because it's a humorous book, I did google it to check it was true!) and about the suffrage movement. They're only mentioned in passing, but that's enough to make you think. Anyway, this piece of information was in the chapter about "improving" your sex life.

24. Digging To America by Anne Tyler

My latest reading group book and the first I'd read by Anne Tyler, although I gather she's a popular and prolific author.

It's the story of two couples in Baltimore, one American and one Iranian, who adopt Korean babies. While both families are very different, their circumstances bring them together and they become involved in each other's lives. This is essentially a novel in which nothing much happens, but it rarely dragged and there was much of interest: the question of identity and belonging as illustrated by Ziba and her American-born husband Sami and mother-in-law Maryam, the different approach Ziba and the earnest Bitsy take to child-rearing and their respective daughters' Korean identity and the response of the couples' wider families to adoption from another culture.

For all that, Digging To America remains a very light and often amusing read. It received some criticism in our reading group for being almost too positive. While the prinicipal characters have their flaws, they are, without exception, well-meaning individuals. I suppose that, knowing that this book was about different races and cultures, a few of us expected there to be more prejudice or racism. On the other hand, I found it refreshing to read about good people just getting on with their lives.

I seem to have suffered a slight case of reader's block lately, although I'm not sure why. I've been reading The Amber Spyglass and Tales of the City for weeks and neither is a demanding read, so I'm hoping I can snap out of this frame of mind quickly!

To make matters "worse", I've just celebrated a birthday and birthdays always mean books. And, since the celebration involved looking in bookshops, I've really outdone myself and brought my TBR count up to an unprecedented 150!

I think there's going to have to be a no-book rule at Christmas. Sigh.

Happy belated! I feel your pain - books are the one thing anyone feels safe getting for me, so I've got a small stack to be read, but have had the same couple books going for awhile. I'm trying to find the book that absorbs my attention and gets me back on track (and away from the TV &/or computer screen)...

Thanks, ljbwell!

It happens occasionally, doesn't it? I love reading, but I need to be in the right state of mind (which I am 90% of the time, thankfully!). Last night I went to bed early in order to be able to spend some time reading and that seemed to work. I hope you soon get your reading groove back!

25. Tales Of The City by Armistead Maupin

I picked this book off my shelf when I was in need of an easy read, and while it is easy to read - short chapters and plenty of dialogue - I struggled a bit. The weird thing is that I've read this book before, although I don't think I've read any of the others in the series, yet I don't remember having any of the difficulties I had this time round. The problem really was the cultural references. US cultural references are not usually too much of a problem - there's no shortage of access to US TV series, films, music and books here, after all - but it wasn't just a question of geography but of time period. I felt that I would get far more out of the book if I'd lived through the seventies on the West Coast of America.

Anyway, this is not to say that this wasn't ultimately an enjoyable and entertaining read. And it definitely got more fun once I was acquainted with all the characters and began to see the connections between their lives. I've grown particularly fond of 'Mouse' and Mary Ann and look forward to reading the rest of the series, provided I can let go of my need to understand every single reference!

26. The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman

The final book in the His Dark Materials trilogy, and the longest by some distance. While, relatively speaking, I sailed through the second book, reading this one unfortunately coincided with a period of poor concentration. And good concentration is essential, as the action takes place in several worlds and introduces several new characters, concepts and points of view.

Like the other books it is beautifully written and the ending had me in tears. I'm glad I expanded my reading horizons with this trilogy and feel somehow richer for having done so.

27. I Served The King of England by Bohumil Hrabal

I am consistently drawn to Central European fiction - I love that region - but I frequently find it perplexing. There often seem to be so many layers to it and I sometimes find it hard to penetrate beneath the surface. I put this down to the fact that the region has had such a tumultuous history and that it has been necessary for writers (and ordinary people) to code their messages in some way in order to escape the wrath of the authorities.

I Served The King of England is one of those perplexing novels, but once I had grown accustomed to the long sentences and never-ending paragraphs, I found myself quite absorbed. The narrator, Ditie, recounts the various stages of his life, from his beginnings as a busboy in a hotel through the Second World War (and the German occupation of Czechoslovakia) to his fate under Communism. Although the book could not be published until the end of Communist rule, it isn't overtly political (well, not to me, anyway). Yet, reading between the lines, you do get some flavour of what life was like under the successive regimes.

Ditie seems, at first, to be quite a ridiculous character, in both physical appearance and intellect, viewing life in a rather naive and childlike manner. Yet he is very canny and adapts to the changes in his life with apparent ease and optimism. He is a survivor.

In spite of the comical tone, there are several sobering moments and it was moving to read of Ditie's redemption towards the end of the novel. I particularly like the line: "The only true man of the world was one who could become anonymous, who could shed himself."

28. Tender Is The Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald

I first read this book 10 years ago, shortly after discovering The Great Gatsby, but it was the version originally published. I picked this copy up second hand and was interested to see that it was a later edition, with the sections rearranged into a more straightforward chronology, apparently in line with Scott Fitzgerald's wishes.

I must admit that I enjoyed this edition more. While I can see the advantage of viewing glamorous Dick and Nicole Diver through budding starlet Rosemary Hoyt's impressionable eyes, I felt much more sympathetic to Dick and Nicole knowing their history from the outset.

Age has also improved my reading of this book, I think. I was much better able, this time, to appreciate the sadness and poignancy in the tale of this Jazz Age couple and their changing fortunes.

29. Half Of A Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

I started off loving this book, but then had no time to read for a few days and found that the love affair had faded somewhat when I next picked it up. I'm wondering whether this is simply because I find reading about wartime hardgoing, or whether there's another reason...

For anyone who doesn't know, this award-winning book deals with the Nigerian Civil War and the Republic of Biafra, subjects about which I knew absolutely nothing. There are two sections set in the early 1960s, before war broke out, and two longer sections dealing with the experiences of the war itself. We see events from three points of view: Ugwu, a houseboy to the academic Odenigbo, Olanna, Odenigbo's girlfriend, and Richard, an Englishman drawn to Nigeria (or should I say Biafra) and to Olanna's twin sister, Kainene.

I thought this device worked very well in terms of providing a broad account of the war and the run-up to it, with Ugwu representing the ordinary Igbo (a member of the ethnic group to which most of the characters belong), Olanna the monied, educated Igbo, and Richard the naive, sympathetic outsider. However, I only really warmed to Ugwu and enjoyed his chapters by far the most.

As many other people have said, this is a very ambitious novel and, in the wartime sections, Ngozi Adichie crams in an awful lot of characters and incidents. As a result, I feel I've really learnt something about what it was like to live in Biafra in its short existence, but I also felt confused and overwhelmed at times. As the book went on, I acquired more and more background knowledge, but a short introduction to the situation, with maps of Nigeria and Biafra, might have been helpful.

I would recommend this book for the excellent writing and the vivid account of a little-known subject, but I'm not sure how much I actually enjoyed it.

30. Nothing To Envy: Ordinary Lives In North Korea by Barbara Demick

This is undoubtedly one of the best books I've read this year. Unable, for obvious reasons, to travel extensively through North Korea herself, the US journalist Barbara Demick carried out in-depth interviews with six North Korean defectors to produce this fascinating book that tells their individual stories and, at the same, offers a chilling portrait of the world's most closed country.

Her writing is such that the book often reads like a novel, compelling the reader to keep going. However, another reason why I had to keep reminding myself that this was non-fiction was the sheer unbelievability of life in the world's last fully communist dictatorship. Shocking and gripping in equal turns and highly recommended.

Thanks for sharing! I added Nothing to Envy to my wishlist.

Hi tjblue, my pleasure! In my opinion, it's a very worthwhile read.

31. An Education by Lynn Barber

After seeing the film version of An Education last year and adoring it, I was interested in reading this memoir, even though Lynn Barber was nothing more than a name to me. Then I discovered on another thread that what we see on screen is based on just one chapter of this short memoir (Nick Hornby did an excellent job of making it into a fully-fleshed screenplay) and was less interested. But then I listened to Lynn Barber on Radio 4's Desert Island Discs and was fascinated by her, because she seems like such a candid person, and so I decided to borrow this book from the library.

After the film, I felt very familiar with events in the first chapter, although it was interesting to note Barber's relative detachment and unromanticism compared with the film's Jenny. However, the memoir then goes on to deal with Barber's life at university, her entry into journalism at Penthouse of all places, her work at various British newspapers and the death of her beloved husband, David. This might not have been so interesting were it not for Barber's engaging honesty and willingness to admit her flaws. This really feels like a memoir written in order to tell us the truth rather than to convey a certain image.

On that note, I find it very odd that, after that recent appearance on Desert Island Discs, several newspapers ran a story about Barber having, by her own admission, slept with about 50 men during one term at Oxford. She says as much in the book, which came out last year, so it was hardly news in the literal sense. Of course, it was really for the titillation of people who hadn't read An Education, but it's a bit of a non-story when the person in question is so open about her past and adopts such a "so what?" attitude.

Fascinated by this openness and the 'Demon Barber' tag, I decided to read a few of her interviews online and really enjoyed them (yes, I'm a bit behind the times, but I much prefer reading books to newspapers). Lynn Barber has a reputation for her hatchet jobs, but it really seems to depend on what she thinks of the interviewee and, even where she is critical of someone, she also makes sure to include praise where it is due. Personally, I dislike the fauning interviews you seem to get in some newspaper magazines and would much rather read an article by a journalist not afraid to have an opinion.

Anyway, that is all by the way of saying that I got a lot more out of this short and easygoing book than I expected.

Your review of Nothing to Envy has inspired me to read it too.
Carry on the good readin'!!

32. Notes On A Scandal by Zoë Heller

This is the third time I've read this favourite book of mine, which is my choice this month for the reading group I attend.

While the lack of suspense means that my first reading of it can never quite be matched, it's still a page-turner and I still delight in the wonderfully obsessive, insecure, snobbish, malicious and strangely sympathetic narrator.

I hope it will provide for some good discussion.

33. Save Me The Waltz by Zelda Fitzgerald

I really wanted to like this book. I was intrigued to learn that Zelda Fitzgerald had written a novel and was enchanted by the title, but it wasn't for me.

Save Me The Waltz deals with the same time period as that covered by Tender Is The Night, although, of course, from the wife's point of view. I sometimes struggle with F. Scott Fitzgerald's writing, feeling that my mind isn't sophisticated enough to grasp the ideas he is conveying or the concerns weighing on his characters' minds, but I am still left with a solid enough impression of what is going on.

Here, however, I was lost fairly soon on. Zelda's prose is so flowery and so packed with startling and awkward imagery that I struggled to gain any momentum. The writing calms down a bit towards the middle of the book, but I found it hard to care about Alabama and David and really only carried on because I'd paid 75p to reserve it at the library!

On a positive note, the imagery worked to the extent that I could picture perfectly Alabama and David's seemingly carefree European existence, and I notice that the LT reviews of this book are quite glowing, so it may well appeal to others.

34. The Green Hat by Michael Arlen

The two reviews of this book on LT are decidedly lukewarm, but I really enjoyed it. Granted, I wasn't sure at first - Arlen seems to write in a self-consciously elaborate style, which creates a distance between the reader (well, this reader) and the characters - but I was soon surprised by how gripping and touching the book was.

This is the story of the appropriately named Iris Storm, perceived in general as a wanton woman, but held in great affection by all who know her. It is narrated by a young man who comes to befriend her and whose life is touched by hers. We never learn his name and, in spite of his apparent ease among the wealthy, glamorous Mayfair set, he is an outsider in this story and we sense that he is different. I was greatly reminded, in this respect, of Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby. I wonder how much of the author is in the narrator - Arlen has written a very English novel, but was a Bulgarian-born Armenian who became a naturalised British citizen and must surely have felt an outsider.

34 books - v well done!!!

35. The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas

I never seem to read books that everybody else is reading/talking about, or not until much later, when the hype has died down. This sounded rather interesting though, so I reserved it at the library.

For anyone that hasn't heard of this book, it begins with with a barbecue hosted by Hector and Aisha, a forty-something, middle-class couple living in Melbourne, and attended by family, friends and acquaintances. Hector's cousin, Harry, slaps a three-year-old child that is not his own, and the "story" develops from this point. Essentially, it is a glimpse into the lives and minds of eight of the people at the barbecue, with a chapter written from the point of view of each of them in turn.

I was aware before starting it that there would be a lot of sex and swearing and that the characters weren't necessarily very likeable, so I found none of this a problem. That said, I found the swearing and drug use rather wearying after a while. I imagine that Tsiolkas was aiming to provide a warts-and-all account of modern family life and it certainly was, although not one I can relate to personally. I think the characters appear unlikeable because we're allowed access to their every thought. I'm sure all of us have unpleasant thoughts running through our heads at times, but we suppress many of them. There is gap between what we think and what we say, and this is true of the more sympathetic characters in this book.

For the most part, I found this book compelling reading, although there were times when it dragged a bit - it's quite a long book - and when I couldn't face picking it up. This led to an interesting realisation - that I read to escape into a different world. I've read far more depressing and upsetting books than this, but the important thing is that I'm transported elsewhere. While I don't necessarily share the outlook of the characters in The Slap, the more mundane details - and Tsiolkas includes lots of them - are common to modern life throughout the Western world, and I felt irritated by the numerous references to pop culture. This is a novel attempting to be very much of its time and is very consciously a post-9/11 novel, but it felt a little forced to me.

Overall, it was an enjoyable read and an interesting change and I wouldn't rule out reading something else by Tsiolkas.

36. More Tales Of The City by Armistead Maupin

With this book, I let the pop culture references wash over me and just enjoyed re-engaging with Mary-Ann, Mouse, Mona et al. A great comfort read.

As I've only read one (very short) book in French this year, and would ideally like to read another four before 2010 is out, I thought I'd give Les autres by Alice Ferney a go. I was inspired to pick it up after reading The Slap, as this book is also told from various characters' viewpoints. Sadly, after 100 pages, I feel the need to put it down again.

The story sounded interesting: family and friends gather to celebrate Théo's 20th birthday and end up playing a game he's received as a present that reveals how others perceive you. The story is told first through the individual characters' thoughts, then through dialogue between them and, lastly, from the point of view of a third-person narrator. With the characters' respective worries and insecurities, I'm sure it proves to be an explosive evening, but I can't be bothered to find out.

There's something about the writing that prevents me from caring about any of the characters. They seem so cold and statue-like. I think it could be because Ferney writes, to my mind, as if this is a creative writing exercise in which she has to imagine what's in each person's head, instead of writing flesh-and-blood characters that don't think in literary flourishes.

Ah well. Reading 100 pages of French must be good for me, in any case.

If you are looking for an absorbing French book with characters whose lives you get drawn into, in a simple-yet-complex way, take a look at Ensemble c'est tout by Anna Gavalda. Lovely book about people's lives coming together.

If you're looking for a shorter read, and find the idea of playful grammar meets Le petit prince potentially entertaining, La grammaire est une chanson douce by Erik Orsenna is wonderful.

Thanks for the recommendations, ljbwell! Anna Gavalda is a name I've come across, but I've never read any of her books. I'll definitely give that one a try.

I've never heard of the second book you mention, but it sounds intriguing. And short is a never a bad thing when it comes to reading in a foreign language ;)

Challenge accepted and undertaken!!

37. Street Without A Name: Childhood And Other Misadventures in Bulgaria by Kapka Kassabova

Kapka Kassabova is a thirty-something Bulgarian poet who left the country of her birth as a young adult and moved to New Zealand, though she now lives in the UK. The first part of the book recounts her childhood under the Communist regime, while the second sees her return to Bulgaria as it 'joins Europe'.

Overall, I was left disappointed by this book. I enjoyed reading about Kassabova's school life, family, friends and glimpses of the Western world, though the (understandably) bitter tone made it uncomfortable reading at times, but the second part of the book dragged for me.

It possibly doesn't help that I've never been to Bulgaria, although I've managed to read other books of this kind without my lack of first-hand knowledge of the country in question being a problem. It was more that this section felt unfocused. Kassabova travels around Bulgaria as a tourist in her own country and describes what she sees, with mixed results. The most interesting parts were her conversations with the people she meets and with old friends and family members. I would have found the book more satisfying if she'd concentrated on these, rather than on her sightseeing activities, and I think it would have tied in better with the first part, providing the reader with a human account of Bulgaria's recent history and present.

I seem to have slowed down with my reading lately and am now attempting to catch up with all the books I want to read before the year is out. I currently have Boule de suif, Neue Vahr Süd and The Ministry of Pain on the go and think these will keep me busy for quite a while!

Come on Rebeki, don't flag at the final hurdles!!!

I haven't even made it to the final hurdles yet!

38. The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga

OK, so I have yet to finish the three books I mentioned above, but I have read this just in time for my reading group meeting.

I was fairly enthusiastic about this choice, as it won the Man Booker Prize in 2008, which seemed a good recommendation. Other than that, I had no idea what to expect.

The books takes the form of a long letter from Balram Halwai, a young man who has escaped his poor rural background to become a successful businessman in Bangalore, to the Chinese Prime Minister, who is due to visit the city.

In telling the Chinese PM how he made the transition, Balram is essentially educating him - and the reader - about India, or rather the two Indias - the Darkness and the Light. In the Darkness, where Balram grows up, there is no running water or electricity and people's lives and livelihoods are in the hands of a few corrupt businessmen. The Light is no less corrupt and there is darkness within it - in the form of slums and people sleeping on the roadside - but for the fortunate ones, such as Balram's master, life is about malls, five-star hotels and servants to cater to your every whim.

Despite the serious subject matter, the book is (darkly) humorous and very readable. It almost felt too readable to be a Booker winner. I usually shy away from books set in India, as I'm a wimp when it comes to reading about poverty and hardship, so I appreciated the author's lightness of touch.

However, I can't say I enjoyed it as such, though it has given me plenty of food for thought.

39. Neue Vahr Süd by Sven Regener

Phew! I've finally finished this 632-page-long German book, though I must say that it was never hardgoing. On the contrary, I've been suffering from reader's block lately and this was the only book I turned to with any enthusiasm.

It is the second book in a trilogy, "following on" from Herr Lehmann, which I read earlier this year. While the latter deals with Frank Lehmann's life in West Berlin shortly before the Mauerfall, this second book goes back in time to Bremen in 1980, with Lehmann about to start his military service, which he has somehow neglected to refuse.

Alongside Franks's attempts to cope with life in the Bundeswehr, the reader is treated to some wonderful episodes from his life outside the barracks, mainly centring on his eccentric living arrangements and more or less politically engaged friends and acquaintances, who find it hard to come to terms with his status as a conscript.

I have no idea why this book is so long, but somehow reading about the minutiae of Frank's life over 600+ pages never gets dull. Having said that, I'm not complaining about the fact that the final book in the trilogy, which I'm eager to start, is about half the length!

40. Der kleine Bruder by Sven Regener

By my standards, I raced through this final part of the Herr Lehmann trilogy, though it seemed rather insubstantial compared with Herr Lehmann and Neue Vahr Süd. While the latter could be enjoyed as stand-alone books, anyone picking up Der Kleine Bruder without previously having been introduced to Frank Lehmann would be disappointed.

The action picks up precisely where it left off, with Frank travelling to Berlin to see his brother Manni. When he arrives, however, Manni is nowhere to be seen and the book is taken up with Frank's search for his elder brother.

I liked this book for its descriptions of (West) Berlin and life among the punks, squatters and artists in Kreuzberg and, of course, because it tied up the loose ends, but it was definitely the weakest link in an otherwise accomplished trilogy.

Admiral Smug is super smug, super smug, super smug,
Admiral Smug is super, super, super smug!

Hee hee hee, I was considering marking smugness as spam but it seems you know two each other. ;) *amused*

Hi pammab - yes, we're married to each other in fact! I managed to introduce AS to the 50 Book Challenge and, of course, he's beaten me, so he's just advertising his smugness!

41. The Ministry of Pain by Dubravka Ugrešić

I'm not sure I have clear in my head yet how I feel about this book. I started it in the middle of a reading slump and, as a consequence, had to restart it. I fared much better second time around, but only became gripped about two-thirds of the way through.

It is 1997 and, a few years after fleeing her native Croatia (then Yugoslavia), Tanja Lucić has ended up in Amsterdam teaching a course in Yugoslav literature. Faced with the problem of teaching a literature that no longer exists and students (all "ex-Yugos") whose motives in signing up to the course are more likely to be visa-related than study-related, Tanja begins the academic year offering classes that are an exercise in "Yugonostalgia". While this section of the book was very interesting, I felt very much an outsider looking in - intruding almost. And it read very much like non-fiction.

The focus shifts briefly from Amsterdam to Zagreb as Tanja makes a visit to her mother, at which point I became more engaged with her character. Events also pick up a little on her return to Amsterdam and, at that point, I kept reading until the end.

I liked this book for the insight it gave me into the conflicting thoughts of those whose country no longer exists, for whom the past was far from perfect and yet the present no better, and for the descriptions of experience as an exile. However, in some senses I felt it was a little deep for me. Instead of being drawn in, as I was, for instance, with As If I Am Not There, however unpleasant that may have been, I felt very much reminded of my position as a fortunate outsider who could never understand what Tanja and her "compatriots" had been through.

42. Yugoslavian Gigolo by Zoran Drvenkar

Continuing with the theme of the former Yugoslavia, I've just finished this book by the Croatian-born German author Zoran Drvenkar, which I picked up in Germany for €2 a couple of years ago. I'd never heard of the author, but the title attracted me (the 'Yugoslavian' rather than the 'Gigolo' part!) and the German didn't look to be too difficult.

Well, in language terms it was an easy read, but, as I expected, it was a far from cheerful read! Branko, a 23-year-old Croat, flees his hometown in order to escape serving in the army during the war in Yugoslavia. He creates a new life in his cousin's town of Križevci, but this is only temporary, for Branko has other plans.

Although the war is the backdrop, the book is really all about a lonely young man who loses his way. In spite of his selfish attitude, I started off feeling drawn to Branko, but he gradually becomes more repellent.

Overall, a rather grim read, but a compelling one - I'm glad I made this chance discovery.

That concludes my 2010 reading. I'm still reading Boule de suif, but will include that in my 2011 thread (once I've set one up!).

Considering that I've been plagued by reader's block and the Christmas lurgy over the last few weeks, I'm pleased with having read 42 books. In any case, it's two more than last year and I'm particularly proud of having read five books in German this year!

My favourite fiction read in 2010 was Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky by Patrick Hamilton and I look forward to reading more by him. Runner-up was another book set in London: The Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon.

The best non-fiction book I read this year was undoubtedly Nothing To Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick, but This Is Serbia Calling: Rock 'n' Roll Radio and Belgrade's Underground Resistance by Matthew Collin and The File: A Personal History by Timothy Garton Ash receive an honourable mention.

I'll post a link to my 2011 thread once it's up and running.

In the mean time, to anyone still reading, Happy New Year!

I've decided to move over to Club Read for 2011. My thread is here.

bump