I’m very happy with my September reading, despite not quite having reached neither the quantitative nor qualitative highs of August. That would have been too much to expect in any case: I don’t often read 17 books in a month, out of which three are five-star reads. The overall quality in September was still very good, however, and I ticked off several boxes that needed to be ticked. As you can see, I’ve included two cookbooks in the picture, because they very much deserve a shout-out, but I don’t count them as ‘books read’.

1. Unicorn by Amrou Al-Khadi. One thing I miss when reading these days is that as I’m extremely well informed about what’s out there (thanks to Bookstagram, The Guardian, FT and Internet in general), I’m hardly ever properly surprised. I was with Unicorn, because it appeared on Brussels Waterstones shelves before the official launch date: I noticed the amazing cover, read the blurb and went for it. And what a lovely surprise this was. It’s a story of an Iraqi-born muslim drag queen, so it’s an extraordinary story in itself, but as it’s very far from my own experience, it was also very enlightening to read. Al-Khadi is a gifted writer and I appreciated that he also kept the more mainstream reader in mind, explaining certain concepts and contexts (which I was sometimes aware of, but not always). If you like memoirs and/or are interested in the experience of people who don’t neatly fit the gender binary, I very much recommend it.

2. The Uninhabitable Earth by David Wallace-Wells. If you are reading this blog, I assume you are already well aware of the looming climate crisis – I have been blessed with an intelligent and well-informed audience. Despite that, I think The Uninhabitable Earth will tell you things you didn’t know and arm you, if you are so inclined, with some high-quality ammunition towards the deniers. He looks at what the global warming means not just for the temperature and for the oceans, but for diseases, water availability, food production, urban environments and many other things. While I found it scary and very powerful, somehow it’s also motivating rather than depressing. I had some (small) quibbles with the second half and thought it didn’t pay enough attention to agriculture and eating habits, but it’s still a must-read in my opinion. It’ll also point you to a lot of other resources.

3. The Trick Mirror by Jia Tolentino. There has been a lot of hype around this essay collection by the young and opinionated The New Yorker and Jezebel writer. As is often the case, I think the noise does the book a disservice, as I went in expecting controversy and iconoclasm – which is there, but not to a degree I was assuming. Quite a bit of it is relatively old-fashioned long-form journalism, although you’ll probably only find it old-fashioned if you are exposed to certain themes on a regular basis. I wanted her to be sharper, even more questioning, more herself, because I think that she is at her best when she summarises a modern dilemma in a incisive sentence, when she writes out of intense personal experience and keeps digging at the progressive truths that have become dogmas. She really is rather good at all these things and clearly has a gift, so I’m looking forward to what she writes next.

4. Rogue Protocol by Martha Wells. I’m continuing my journey with Murderbot before the full-length novel comes out next year: three novellas down, one to go. If you are not familiar with the grumpy killing robot of this series, you should remedy this ASAP. In this installment, she is investigating the murky past of the Corporation that ruined her life and learns some important lessons in the process. I still prefer the second book of the series, because of ART, but this is a question of personal taste, not the quality of writing.

5. The Ascent to Godhood by JY Yang. Another ongoing series, another novella, another strong entry. I love Yang’s Tensorate series mostly for its worldbuilding: it’s Asian-inpsired, has very interesting (progressive) gender politics and is overall much more about power and societal structures than it is about magic. However, the fourth book is mostly about a very competent and rather evil female character, which I tend to love. I loved it here, too. You can read TATG on its own, but I recommend starting with book 1 and move onwards, it makes the experience richer. As always with Yang, the novellas are short and do not flesh out things much – it is not a problem for me, but keep it in mind, if you prefer novel-like thoroughness in your stories.

6. Hexarchate Stories by Yoon Ha Lee. Regular readers of my wrap-ups are well acquainted with my undying love for Lee’s The Machineries of Empire series. This short story collection takes place in the same universe and while it’s not my place to tell you what and when to read, I’d say this makes much more sense when read after the trilogy. If you are not familiar with the earlier books, you’ll not understand the context of the events nor will you know the characters – and Lee isn’t known for his accessibility in the first place. Also, if you didn’t like the original trilogy, I don’t think this is going to change your mind. If you did, however, read this as well. There are short snippets that provide you with insight into the backgrounds of the protagonists (my faves were the ones from Cheris’s childhood), there is lots of Jedao (always a good thing in my book) and you’ll learn what happens after Revenant Gun. The style ranges from short prose poems to more than 100 pages of almost horror. Enjoy!

7. What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours by Helen Oyeyemi. I have been working myself through Oyeyemi’s books and I’ve liked them all. Even if they leave me unsatisfied, I still enjoy her style and sensibility – this reminds me a little bit of my relationship with Neil Gaiman. This one is a short story collection, where the stories are all connected and all weird, but in different ways. I think ‘magical realism’ is a fitting description in her case: while the stories are lyrical and things way outside the normal happen, they are told in a matter-of-fact way. The magic never seems to surprise or ruffle anyone. I have already bought my fourth Olyeyemi book.

8. Dukes Prefer Blondes by Loretta Chase. I haven’t read a romance book in ages: I don’t have anything against the genre, but it’s not easy to find the type of romance I truly enjoy and I’m generally not inclined to make the effort. Usually, I prefer love stories to be sub-plots in SFF or YA, rather than the main focus of the book. That said, I saw a Goodreads friend enjoying this, bought it on Kindle and enjoyed this as well (although not quite as much as she did). It’s a historical romance (19th century) and features a highly intelligent but socially difficult hero (yep, that’s my jam) and a highly intelligent and breathtakingly beautiful heroine (of course). The first half was really good fun, the second got a bit repetitive.

9. Joosepi naised by Anneli Lamp. Yes, this is a book by my mother and, unsurprisingly, it’s in Estonian. It tells a half-documented, half-imagined story of our neighbour and the three women in his life. The last of them lived almost 100 years and I remember her from my own childhood. It’s a quick, easy read that reminds you how extraordinary life can be, even in the God-forsaken corners of the Empire that is now long gone. Love, war, murder, suicide, jealousy – it’s all in there.

Finally, coming quickly back to these two cookbooks: I mentioned Diana Henry’s From the Oven to the Table already when I bought it and it’s great. I’ve cooked from it twice and loved both dishes. I haven’t yet cooked from Eleanor Ford’s Fire Islands, which is an introduction to Indonesian food, but I will. I’m out of kecap manis and shrimp paste, so will stock up on these and a few other things before I proceed.

How’s your reading?