Summer Reading List
Oh, who couldn’t wait to get their summer reading list assigned every year?! No? What? Just me? Ok. Well anyway, you know I read pretty avidly all year long, but summer days are ripe with the promise of bonus reading time, lounging on the beach or afternoons where it’s just too damn hot to do anything but lie in front of the fan with a glass of iced tea and a book.
I’m usually reading a few things at once, pacing myself through three or four reading “phases” each day. Trust me, I recognize this privilege of uninterrupted time in even the best of circumstances; I see you, my poor, exhausted parent friends who’ve had nary a moment’s peace since March.
But try and bear with me here because I believe that readers are gonna read, and no matter what, we always manage to find some fragment of time to fill with stories. Honestly, I think we can all agree it’s a survival skill as much as it is a hobby.
In the morning while I’m eating breakfast, I read some kind of “work” book, meaning non-fiction on a topic I’m studying. Right now that’s basically reading about writing. Books on craft, like Stephen King’s On Writing; Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird; The Art of Fiction by John Gardner. Lots of highlighting, lots of note-taking, lots of future reading list- generating.
In the late afternoon, I take a break from whatever I’m working on–maybe 30-45 minutes or so–to do what I think of as slow reading. This would be something I’m trying to really take my time with; there’s a lot of re-reading happening, just going back over a few pages or paragraphs to make sure I’m understanding the text. Currently I’ve been using this time to dig into “the classics,” wading through all the formal, dense prose to get to the heart of the story.
Finally, my bedtime reading, a nightly tradition I’ve upheld pretty religiously for as long as I can remember. I try to make at least an hour for it so I’m not just conking out right away (most of the time). Typically this is when I read for pure enjoyment, and my genre has tended to be contemporary literary fiction. Sometimes I’ll stick some memoir or personal essay in there. I just like to keep it kinda easy, if not always light, although lately I’ve been thinking about how I just consume rather than savor these books, and I think I’m missing out on a lot. So I’ve also committed to re-reading things that I want to more fully process.
One final note: I’ve more or less stopped reading the news. Or, “the news.” Controversial opinion, I know. By no means am I sticking my head in the sand, but I’m trying to be more conscious about how I engage with media and the churn of the news cycle. The most important news will–be assured–make it to you. I signed up for some briefings-style and round-up emails, and I’ll skim through those over lunch, as well as one or two long-form reports or editorials. I don’t feel any less informed, but I do feel a lot more clear-headed.
Here’s what’s been on my summer reading list:
Dubliners by James Joyce. Step one of strength training for Ulysses. My god the language is so alive: “in the teeth of a high wind.” (But all those footnotes tho.) My favorite story was A Little Cloud.
The Portrait of A Lady by Henry James. Baby’s first James. I guess you could say I’m crafting a sort of DIY English degree at the moment, and James is irrefutably core curriculum. A joy to read, or maybe sort of hate-read in a way. I cannot be alone in thinking that Ralph was truly the only likable character. Isabel, UGH, your principles have no grounding whatsoever. Henrietta, you’re the worst. Caspar Goodwood, she’s just not that into you! Anyway. This was a book to study. James’s prose is florid; not what one would call economical, but with dialogue that jumps off the page. I look forward to re-reading it with fresh eyes, spending more time savoring the wit and observations. Also looking forward to reading more James.
The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett: On literally every summer reading list right now, and for good reason. This is a great story, with an engrossing and well-constructed plot. The writing did not grab me, but it was definitely a highly consumable page-turner.
Weather by Jenny Offill: Before digging into her latest, an on-the-nose depiction of accelerating climate anxiety, I re-read Offill’s Dept of Speculation, from 2014, praised for its flouting of novelistic convention and held up as a solid example of the emerging genre of autofiction. Blurred lines everywhere. The collage of fragmented prose, quotes, and dictionary definitions can feel a bit like thumbing through a writer’s notebook; you know it makes sense to her, and little bursts of lucidity catch your eye, but you may wonder what exactly you’re reading. It’s not a slog, but sometimes it’s hard to connect with the point of it all.
Currently reading:
The Topeka School by Ben Lerner. More in the study of so-called autofiction. Plus who doesn’t love a story about a messy family dynamic.
Middlemarch by George Eliot. Onto the next canonical text! George Eliot is HILARIOUS! The biting wit! The stinging sarcasm! I can’t wait to find out what fate looms for Dorothea. Also, having re-read Franny and Zooey for the zillionth time earlier this summer, I’m clocking some potentially interesting connections between Dorothea’s devoutness and Franny’s own spiritual obsessions. I am sure some English major somewhere has already written this paper, but for now I’m indulging in the pretense of my own cleverness.
Psst, hey! Follow me @shesrobust for more book (and wine) recommendations.