While my non-fiction year was stellar and I also got through a lot of brilliant SFF (list to come), I was somewhat underwhelmed by fiction in 2019. It’s not that the fiction I read was bad, but few things really stood out. Partly, it’s my own fault: I think I’m a bit tired of contemporary Western fiction, no matter how good. But instead of reading more classics and translated books, I gravitated towards non-fiction and genre literature. Also, I did not read many of the big hitters of the year: books like Girl, Woman, Other; The Testaments or Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead may have given me the emotions I was looking for.

The other issue I have with my fiction reading (for the second year in a row) is the lack of Estonian-language books. I read maybe three books in my native language and that’s not enough, especially as my own Estonian becomes increasingly less nimble and nuanced while living in Brussels. I pledge to do better this year.

Despite all this whining, I did read some great fiction in 2019 and here’s the best of it:

1. The Bloody Chamber, Angela Carter. I did expect to like this modern classic, but it still caught me somewhat off guard. I was surprisd by the highly stylised language and how traditional, truly faitytale-like the stories were, while still managing to be fresh and powerful. In any case, I loved the book unreservedly and it’s telling that my only 5-star fiction book is 40 years old. Highly recommended.

2. Kahe heli vahel, Joonas Sildre. This was also a five-star read for me, but it’s a graphic novel, not a traditional one. If The Bloody Chamber surprised me, this one was almost a shock: a biography of Arvo Pärt told as a comic? Who saw that coming? I certainly didn’t. It is a beautiful, emotional, well-researched book that I recommend to all Estonian-speakers (with Pärt playing in the background).

3. What is Not Yours is Not Yours, Helen Oyeyemi. That’s a bit of a weird entry, as it’s representing Oyeyemi in general rather than this book of short stories in particular. I had meant to read her for ages and in 2019 finally got through Gingerbread and then Mr Fox and What is Not Yours in quick succession. I have issues with all three – they can be confusing, meandering, inconclusive – but I also find them enchanting. For me, Oyeyemi’s voice is so compelling that I will keep reading, despite the (mild) frustrations.

4. Ghost Wall, Sarah Moss. Moss is, in a way, the complete opposite of Oyeyemi: compact, structured, disciplined. They both excel at atmosphere, though, even if those atmospheres are different. The build-up of tension in Moss’s rather dark ‘back to the iron age’ novella is quite something and I absolutely loved the voice of the young protagonist – masterfully done. The only small gripe I had was the rushed ending, but it is still a great one to read in one sitting, breath held, wondering later where our hate and urge for violence come from.

5. Lanny, Max Porter. Another short English novel with a dark undercurrent, another to read in one go. I admit Porter can border on gimmicky for me and for some, his experimental form and storytelling do cross that line. That said, I was totally engrossed in this story of a missing child, where ordinary country life and ancient myths collide. Porter writes children better than almost anyone I know – it’s a rare skill.

6. Celestial Bodies, Jokha Alharthi. Alharthi’s International Booker-winning book, on the other hand, did not impress me that much when I read it. It was interesting, as it takes place in Oman and that’s not a place I know particularly well (apart from a date cake I make that happens to be from an Omani cookbook), but it is a rather aloof piece of work. Despite being a family saga, it’s a slim book and only shows us fragments of the lives of three sisters and the people around them. Looking back, I realise it’s an inspired choice: this is how we see the stories of others, in bits and pieces, missing and misunderstanding things. We don’t even fully know our own lives.

7. Call Me by Your Name, André Aciman. Sometimes the difference between loving a book and being annoyed by it is the timing. I read Call Me by Your Name in the summer heat in the right state of mind and it was perfect. If you are in the mood for a stylish, sensual summer romance – go for it. If you crave something earnest and deep and minimal – do not touch. It was a beautiful reading experience, but I will play it safe and never reread this boo. And I’m convinced I would hate the sequel.

8. The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller. One never knows, but I think I would have enjoyed this love story of Achilles and Patroclus any time. As you probably know, I adored Miller’s Circe and while I didn’t love The Song of Achilles quite as much, it is still a beautiful and beautifully told story.

9. Friday Black, Nana Kwame Adjej-Brenyah. This book of short stories starts with a gut-punch and never really lets you relax after that. It is an angry, satirical, brilliant exploration of the ills of our (Western) societies, mainly racism and consumerism. Not a fun read, but often very funny.

10. Freshwater, Akwaeke Emezi. Well, compared to Freshwater, Friday Black is pretty fun. Emezi does not hold back and horrible things happen in this book all the time. What makes it bearable is their obvious talent, a certain distance in the way the story is told and the ambition of the entire endeavour – combining African myths, mental illness, trans experience and who knows what else in an insane coming-of-age story. The most interesting thing about this novel, however, is how you decide to read it. Are the spirits ‘real’? And on whose side are they? Or is the protagonist sick? Should you be outraged or happy or sad and why, exactly?

11. Fox 8, George Saunders. What a lovely, heartbreaking, illuminating, funny, wonderful little book. It takes less than an hour to read and if you are not moved by it, I may question your humanity (and literary taste).

So here we go. Did you read any of these? And what were your favourites from 2019?