Quarantine Book Club | Edition II

This past weekend, I read four books. Granted, it was a long weekend, but still – that’s a rate of more than one book per day. Suffice it to say that Quarantine Book Club is still going strong, despite the fact that we’ve begun easing restrictions here in Manitoba (which, if my neighbours are anything to do by, everyone is interpreting as, The pandemic is over. It isn’t.) I’m still spending most of my time at home, either on my couch or on my balcony, enjoying good books – and mostly, I can’t complain.

Welcome to the second edition of Quarantine Book Club. The best part of spending (almost) ten straight weeks social distancing is how many books I’ve checked off my reading list. I haven’t loved them all – but what I don’t love, someone else might. That’s part of the fun of a book club. If you’ve read any of the six books below, I’d love to hear your thoughts about them in the Comments!

(And if you’re curious about what else I’ve read, you can see my whole list on Good Reads.)

Lie with Me – Philippe Besson
This was a quick but seriously affecting read. What is suspected to be a fictionalised version of a true story from the author’s own life, the book is brief but all the more compelling because of how quickly the story begins and ends. The translation, by Molly Ringwald, is poor, particularly in the early chapters, but the ill-chosen adjectives and too literal sentence reconstructions do nothing to diminish the gripping story. I read this from start to finish over lunch, and couldn’t get it out of my mind for days afterwards. It will likely become a movie, with good reason, but since the movie rarely lives up to the original story, I recommend picking up the book.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being – Milan Kundera
Alternately nonsensical, dull and riveting, The Unbearable Lightness of Being is one of those classic books that you know people love for a reason. One of those books where, for brief, shining moments, you think you can understand what all the fuss is about – only to find yourself questionning that pages later. And then you come to the ending. And the ending is so absolutely perfect that the rest of the story is not only redeemed, but elevated. I’ve read this book a number of times over the years now, but the last line never fails to bowl me over. I keep rereading it just for that, and will continue.

If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler – Italo Calvino
I would not change a single word of this bizarrely inventive novel, which is, in fact, ten novels in one, all sewn together but a thin but strong thread of plot. I’ve never read anything else like it, because no one has ever written anything else like it. And I can’t describe it beyond that. Except to say that it is absolutely, without a doubt, worth the read.

The Catcher in the Rye – J. D. Salinger
Of all the books I was required to read in high school, I remember this as one of my favourites. So much so, in fact, that I bought a copy with the prize money I won along with some school award that same year. Rereading it as an adult proved to be an entirely different experience. In the age of incels, my ability to empathise with Holden Caulfield was, at best, limited. Mostly, I wanted to give him a good shake. While simultaneously shouting at him that the world doesn’t owe him anything. But at the same time, I knew he wouldn’t understand if I did. This book is a classic, there is no doubt. But there is a time and place for it. Adulthood, it turns out, isn’t it.

My Dark Vanessa – Kate Elizabeth Russell
Confession: I bought this book mostly because the plot is eerily familiar to me. In 2018, I had an idea for a very similar story, which I put aside because I was (and still am) working on my third book. Fast forward two years and I don’t need to write that book at all. It already exists.

This book is well written and treats a difficult subject with exceptional sensitivity. But I found myself marveling at what a quick read it was. The marked simplicity of language in modern literary novels in an idea that is increasingly on my mind, and this book is plagued by it. The writing is so uncomplicated, so nearly approaching uninventive that I could have read this as a ten-year-old with no difficulty. And I find that disappointing, especially when I like a book. It makes me feel like it didn’t quite live up to its full potential. That takes nothing away from the story, though, which is a good one.

Hard Times – Charles Dickens
Dickens isn’t my favourite. Just generally. I know he’s considered a classical author, but the tone of his work is too moralistic for my taste most of the time. (Plus, he tries to convey accents in dialogue, which drives me bonkers.) Hard Times is arguably one of his most moralistic works. And yet, of those I’ve read, it’s the one I’ve enjoyed the most so far. The story takes a while to really get going. But once it does, it’s easy to empathise with the characters and cheer for them. I wouldn’t reread, but this might be my favourite of all Dickens’ books.

Happy reading!