Best of 2024: Books

Best of 2024: Books


I really can’t complain about the reading last year: 181 books, more than 44 000 pages, the lowest rating 2.5 stars (and that was, what, twice?). I don’t have the exact statistics, but I read around 30 books at least partially on audio, which is one of the main factors in me crossing the 150-book barrier for the second time. The other is that I also read quite a few shorter and lighter books, including poetry and alien romance (which are as different as genres can be, but can both be easily read in a day). Then again, These Truths was 960 pages, so it evens out…

As has been the rule in recent years, I read a lot of non-fiction and less literary fiction than I planned, although I had a very strong end of the year in terms of litfic. There were 14 books in Estonian, which is not amazing, but could have been worse. I did read a significant amount of fantasy*, science fiction and even a bit of horror, but I realised that I haven’t really been reading any of the big SFF series, so that is something to think about for the next year.

I was going to say that my reading was unfocused and all over the place, but that’s not fully true: I did manage to finish a decent amount of books on my #readingAmerica list and I ticked off a few titles that had been on my TBR for ages. I completely failed my Year of Sanderson, though, as I got stuck with Elantris pretty early in the year and that was that. I may do a separate post on my 2025 reading plans, once I get the ‘best of’ lists out of the way. This year, I definitely need separate posts for fiction, non-fiction and SFF, as I liked so many things. But first, the absolute favourites, in no particular order:

These Truths by Jill Lepore. In what was a stellar year for non-fiction**, I wasn’t sure this would make the list. If I am honest, I enjoyed American Nations by Colin Woodard more than I enjoyed this. But also, if I am honest, I have to admit that These Truths is a massive achievement. It is 800 pages (plus 160 pages of notes and sources) of US history from the very beginning to Trump, beautifully and insightfully written. It has its (small) faults – I suspect it is not possible to write a perfect one-volume history of the US – but it is really good. If you want to read one book on the topic, something that would take the darker side of American history seriously and grapple with it, I am not sure there’s a better option out there. Especially if your main interest is political (rather than, say, military or cultural) history.

The Golden Road by William Dalrymple. I am a bit disappointed not to have seen this book on enough ‘best of 2024’ lists. I understand that it’s not yet out in the US, but the Brits really should have paid more attention. This is an excellent example of a general interest history book that is very well researched and offers new insights, while being a pleasure to read and not excessively detailed. It takes a look at how Indian religions, sciences and trade have shaped the rest of the world, covering topics from Buddhism to the invention of zero. It of course helps if you have some basic knowledge of Indian history, but you don’t need much of it to enjoy the book. It is just a delightful, informative read and a much-needed antidote to eurocentrism.

On Freedom by Timothy Snyder. This is another one that should have gotten more attention. While I am a massive Anne Applebaum fan girl and you will (spoiler!) see her Autocracy, Inc. on my upcoming non-fiction list, I feel that out of the two Russia/autocracy experts, Snyder has produced a much deeper and ultimately more important book. To be fair, the authors’ focus is completely different, but I suspect it has played in Applebaum’s favour that her book is much shorter and more accessible. On Freedom talks (unsurprisingly) about the meaning of freedom, lamenting how the (far) right has hijacked the term, and redefining it for more inclusive use: ‘freedom to’ rather than ‘freedom from’. The book blends political philosophy, history, policy analysis and memoir; as always, Snyder uses his knowledge of Russia, Ukraine and Eastern Europe to great effect. If you come from the same part of Europe as I do, you should join me in hoping that On Freedom has a wide readership in the US. And elsewhere.

Ma ehitasin barrikaadi by Anna Świrszczyńska/Food for the Dead by Charlotte Shevchenko Knight. Talking about Ukraine, Russia and Eastern Europe, I could not decide which poetry book to include, so I have taken the easy way out and included both. They are both tough reads: the first focuses in large part on the Warsaw uprising*** in 1945 and the second on Ukrainian history and Holodomor in particular. If you know your history, you know that these are not cheerful topics; I cried through both books. Świrszczyńska’s language is extremely simple, making her memories – she worked as a military nurse during the uprising – of the death and destruction particularly effective. Shevchenko Knight is more lyrical and slightly less bleak, but equally powerful. If you need a reminder what really matters in life, read these.

Mitte ainult minu tädi Ellen by Mudlum. My favourite Estonian read of the year stands on the border of non-fiction and fiction. It is a very personal story of the women in the author’s life, her mother and aunt in particular. It is about loneliness, madness, love and other feelings. It is also an exceptionally detailed account of a specific time and place in history, the end of the Soviet occupation in Estonia. I am younger than Mudlum, so remember some of what she writes about – it feels as if she is filling out my memories and I am not fully sure if I do in fact remember all these things or she just writes so convincingly that I am fooled by my own brain. Then again, the strangeness of the Soviet experience is that many of us DO have the same memories – the same clothes, the same dishes, the same books, the same cars (if any), the same cartoons, the same colours. Of course, the 1980s were a time of much less choice than we have today in most places, but in our case exacerbated by the scarcity and uniformity of a dictatorial communist system. I believe the book is translated to Finnish, if you happen to read that language.

The English Understand Wool by Helen DeWitt. While I read a number of the big 2024 fiction releases, all of my absolute favourites are backlist items. The English Understand Wool is perhaps the weirdest of them: only 70 pages and not easy to define in terms of genre or style. It’s difficult to say anything about it without ruining some of the reading pleasure, so let me just say that it combines snobbery, unreliable narration and revenge in a most delightful way. DeWitt knows exactly what she is doing and remains in absolute control of the text and the effect she is creating throughout. It’s not going to redefine literature for you, but I found it extremely satisfying.

Kick the Latch by Kathryn Scanlan. The newest fiction book on the list (2022) is another slim volume that packs a punch. Scanlan has written down, edited and polished the life of Sonia, a horse trainer from Midwest. As one can assume, the life on the race circuit is not an easy one, especially for a woman born in 1962. But Sonia loves horses and sticks with it without complaint. It is a laconic book about an ordinary extraordinary life, elevated above simply ‘interesting’ by Sonia’s voice and Scanlan’s good judgement. Scanlan herself calls the book fiction, but is it, really? I recommend this to picky literary fiction readers, as well as those who usually enjoy memoirs and non-fiction.

I Who Have Never Known Men by Jaqueline Harpman. An unlikely hit, Harpman’s (who was Belgian and died in 2012) book has been trending on Booktube since Emily Fox rediscovered it about two years ago. It’s slightly longer than The English Understand Wool and Kick the Latch, but equally difficult to define. Is it a dystopian novel? Post-apocalyptic? Science fiction? It follows a group of women who have been held prisoner underground for unknown reasons, until one day they manage to escape. Not much is explained to the reader and not much happens, but the way the women’s lives and relationships are described will haunt you. Written in 1995, it feels both timeless and current.

Parable of the Sower by Octavia E. Butler. Without really meaning to, I read a lot of dystopian/postapocalyptic/female survivalist fiction last year. Butler’s book had been on my list the longest, I was simply too afraid to read it. And I was right to be afraid: Parable of the Sower is bleak and unsparing, but it’s also absolutely brilliant. Written in 1993, it has looked at some the worrying trends of the time – poverty, environmental degradation, rampant capitalism, political populism, addiction – and taken them to their logical extreme. The book takes place in 2024 and makes for very uncomfortable reading: we may not fully be where Butler predicted 30 years ago, but we are not that far off. We follow, again, a young woman, this time one who is starting a new religion in what are if not fully post-apocalyptic, then at least pre-apocalyptic conditions. An absolute classic.

The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett. While Parable of the Sower is often categorised as genre fiction, not much magical or science-fictional happens in it. In the Tainted Cup, on the other hand, we have both strong fantasy and SF elements plus a heavy dose of mystery. Bennet is one of the few male genre writers I truly love (I adore his Divine Cities series), partly because he writes excellent women. It’s true of this book, too, with Ana the detective being delightfully eccentric and somewhat scary. She is investigating a strange death of an imperial engineer with her new sidekick Din, creating a Holmes-Watson or Wolfe-Goodwin type of dynamic. The mystery element works very well, but what makes it special for me is the world – one part Roman empire, one part Attack on Titan, one part bio- and genetic engineering. Everyone I know who has read it has loved it and I cannot wait for A Drop of Corruption, coming in April. (The book is not on the picture because J has it – he loved it, too.)

Saints of Steel Series by T. Kingfisher. While I am far from being an expert in speculative romance (it is a huge genre with dozens of subgenres), I do understand the genre better after reading quite a bit of it in the last two years. I have read everything from male pregnancy alpha/omega romance to dutiful cyborgs on Mars unexpectedly falling in love, but the undisputed favourite of the category for me last year was T. Kingfisher. I have enjoyed the romantic subplot in all her fantasy/horror books, but Paladin’s Grace (the first book of the series) was my first proper romance by her. I adored all four books that are out – the saints are adorable****, all protagonists are actual grown-ups, there is no instalove and it’s all just delightful. I also really like the world of the White Rat where these stories take place. The books are pretty low spice, so keep that in mind if your priorities are different. But if you actually like your romances to have romance rather than lots of sex, this is for you. (I read these on Kindle, so don’t have the physical books.)

(We Solve Murders by Richard Osman.) This is an honorable mention, as I do not have anywhere else to put it. I do not read enough thrillers, mysteries and detective stories these days to have a separate list for them. If I had such a list, We Solve Murders would definitely be on it. I have not read Osman’s hugely popular The Thursday Murder Club series and I suspect I might prefer the new series anyway, as it’s a bit less cosy. In any case, it was such a fun and pleasant experience that I may still read everything else Osman has written – I really enjoyed his voice and humor and characters. We follow an ex cop and his daughter-in-law (I mean, this should get an award for the most unlikely partnership) who’s a private bodyguard, solving an international murder case. Cases. If you are after wholesome entertainment, I highly recommend this.

This is it for my favourite favourites, but there is plenty of good stuff to come. Let me know what you read and loved in 2024 – my TBR is beyond saving at this point anyway, so I may just as well add to it.

*Purely in terms of numbers, alien/monster romance is probably my most read sub-genre, but I would not say it’s really a very significant genre for me. It’s pure entertainment and as I only discovered it last year, it’s been a novelty, but I can already feel that I’ll read much less of it this year.

**A stellar year for me, These Truths was published in 2019.

***The Warsaw uprising poems are available in English in Building the Barricade by Anna Swir, the name she often used of Western markets. For reasons you can probably guess.

**** Yes, I know I just used the word ‘adore’ and this kid of repetition would usually be ruthlessly weeded out, but in this case these are the only correct words to use.

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