Told you I’d be back. And this time, I brought a picture of mine and Sam’s cat!
His name is Ghost. He is mildly destructive, a bit skittish, and quite affectionate—when you agree to his terms. So he’s like most cats I’ve known. Sam and I adopted him about a month after we’d moved in together. But, according to my co-workers, immediately adopting a cat is not the craziest choice we’ve made: integrating our books is. I have co-workers who have been married for years and years, and still they keep their books separate. Now, we haven’t integrated yet, but we’re seriously considering it.
See, I like having my books organized (by section, then author last name, then pub date). And it seems ridiculous to have two Fiction sections. But I recognize that integrating our two collections (my idea) is not a decision to be taken lightly.
There’s something extremely personal about your book collection. It is a representation of the self you are, the self you wish you were, the self you’re working towards, the self you used to be. This can get muddied upon integrating. And as two booksellers we have a lot of overlap; whose copy of My Favorite Thing Is Monsters do you keep? (Both, until you find someone to “lend” one to.) So, now that all the books are in one place, we’ve decided to give it some time—possibly longer than it took for us to get a cat.
Whether we integrate or not, our book collection just about doubled, which means there are even more books in my home that I have not read but one day hope to. As always, that’s what I’m here to talk to you about. So here are some of Sam’s books I wish I were reading.
The Listeners by Leni Zumas
Leni Zumas recently published Red Clocks, which is not, as I was under the impression, her first book but her third. The Listeners is her second (though her first novel) and it
explores a far-out world where a patchwork of memory, sensation, and imagination maps the flickering presence of ghosts.
So that sounds great. Red Clocks did not rank among my favorites of last year, but I think that was more about the marketing than the book itself. The publisher—like all publishers of literary spec fic at that moment—sold it as the next The Handmaid’s Tale. It’s not that, but it is a fascinating exploration of women’s agency and autonomy—or lack thereof—in a world where abortion is illegal. Red Clocks felt further from dystopia and closer to reality compared to my memories of The Handmaid’s Tale. It was uncomfortable in a way fiction should sometimes be. I’m guessing The Listeners may be similar.
All My Puny Sorrows by Miriam Toews
I may already own this—my books still aren’t organized (yes, it’s driving me a little bit insane). Regardless, Sam is kind of the reason I want to read this. I picked up Toews’s latest book, Women Talking, because he read it and loved it; and, if you’ve been reading this for a bit, you’ll remember that I was so affected by the book I wrote a whole newsletter about it. That was my first experience with Toews’s work and now I want to read everything else she’s written—lucky for me, Sam just said “I have a couple of her others—I keep buying them.” Because we’re booksellers. We collect books like its our job.
The Icarus Girl by Helen Oyeyemi
Me: Have you read Helen Oyeyemi yet?
Sam: No, but I keep buying her because you love her books so much
I think true love might be buying books for your own collection just because you know your partner loves them. The Icarus Girl is Oyeyemi’s first book. I have no idea what it’s about, but he’s right, I love her writing; and I recently read her latest book, so it would be quite interesting to see how her work has changed in the fourteen years since this one was published.
City On Fire by Garth Risk Hallberg
I never really wanted to read this one; it came out in 2015 to much acclaim and I’m one of those readers that shies away from buzzy books—I don’t need to read them because they’ll sell themselves.
But as Sam was unpacking his books the other night he started talking about this one, about how well it captures New York—a city we both love, a city I lived adjacent to when this book came out. And when Sam starts talking about books I honestly go weak at the knees. I know that is an extremely corny thing to say, and I did not understand that cliché until he started telling me why I might like Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit at a bookstore once—before I lived in Seattle, when we were still acting like we weren’t completely enamored with each other—and it literally happened to me.
I couldn’t tell you if I love the way he talks about books because I love him or vice versa, but it doesn’t really matter; as soon as he gets going about a book he’s excited for I’m all in.
Currently Reading
Normal People by Sally Rooney
Probably you’ve heard of Sally Rooney; it seems a new think piece is written every week about whether or not we should take her and her characters—millennials, both—seriously.
I just said I generally avoid the buzzy books, didn’t I? Well, I’ve been in this odd mood where I’m gravitating towards not just novels but novels that I can only categorize as “contemporary fiction.” (Usually I go in for more speculative and/or fabulist short stories.) I read Conversations with Friends, Rooney’s debut, and thought it was fine. Probably I would like it more now—I think when I read it I was kind of like, oh everyone thinks you’re so great, why don’t you prove it. Like an asshole. (This is why I stay away from buzzy books, especially when they are written by people my age and I am jealous of them.)
When I started Normal People I was immediately taken by Rooney’s prose. Her writing is incredible, but in a way that doesn’t call attention to itself. So you’re already twenty pages in and only just realizing, damn this woman can write.
I have written and deleted numerous attempts to explain just what it is about her. (This is why I write a newsletter about books I haven’t read; they are much easier to write about.) She understands people, how we think and interact. And it seems effortless.
I haven’t even told you what it’s about. And I’m not going to, I’m just going to quote Meaghan O’Connell’s review of it:
Basically, it’s a very neurotic romance novel.
Pretty much.
Other Ways to Find Me On the Internets
Once a month (or so) I host a podcast called Drunk Booksellers where my best friend and I interview a fellow bookseller while drinking. I sometimes tweet about books and politics. I sometimes post pictures of books I’m reading, or cats I’m hanging out with on Instagram.
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