A Calling for Charlie Barnes by Joshua Ferris

Steady Boy, aka Charlie Barnes, is convinced he’s dying of pancreatic cancer. When the doctor’s office calls, will he get a reprieve? This is the hook for Ferris’s exploration of an average Joe, a man who has still to find a true calling, at the age of 68. It might never happen, but given how close he has come to death, Charlie can’t afford to waste any more time. The premise might sound depressing but Ferris has a light touch that elevates the mundane into a moving (but not sappy) story of a man trying to do the right thing.

Three Rooms by Jo Hamya

Against the backdrop of Brexit, the narrator of this thought-provoking novel struggles to find a job and a place of her own. Hamya captures the rootlessness of the millennial generation — carving a space for themselves out of hollowed structures as they navigate the gig economy and the dumpster fire of capitalism. “There had been no place I could have dragged a sofa into, painted the walls whatever color I wanted, stayed in long enough to find inviting colleagues over for dinner and drinks, a worthwhile task,” the narrator says. It’s enough to make you scream: The “kids” are not okay. 

 

Skinship by Yoon Choi

Immigrants from Korea make their way through the novel landscape that is the United States, even as the past continues to haunt them. This remarkably brilliant collection might tread familiar ground but it is especially successful in its subtle acknowledgment of the minor triumphs of the new transplants. That even these achievements might be a step down from life in Korea makes their accomplishments even more noteworthy. The most moving stories feature aging and dying in a foreign land, characters clinging to a past that is fuzzy even in memories. The collection spotlights life in its high-definition beauty and complexity. 

Damnation Spring by Ash Davidson

It takes an assured hand to take a classic Pacific Northwest loggers’ fight for survival and not turn it into an us-versus-them story. Colleen is still reeling from her eighth miscarriage when her husband Rich boldy buys a patch of redwood trees he can’t afford. As the environmental damage wrought by chemicals and logging takes its toll, the community faces slim choices. This is an unforgettable novel saturated with languorous yet memorable prose — a salad is filled with “horseshoes” of celery, a character’s laughter fills the air like “confetti,” — and a slow-burn of a plotline. An absolute stunner.

Our Country Friends by Gary Shteyngart

 

What happens when six friends, fueled by plenty of alcohol, are together during lockdown? We’re far from placing the pandemic in the rearview mirror but the immensely talented Shteyngart studies what could go wrong (and right) under such a pressure cooker environment. Alternatively funny and pithy, the novel gives off Big Chill-esque vibes. The story displays a powerful grasp of  class divides and the pressures on progressives seething in the Trumpian era. Overall though, the novel feels half-baked, the bows too neatly tied together in the end. A worthy addition to an impressive body of work but not my favorite.

Great Circle by Maggie Shipstead

 

The “great circle” is the path that fictional pilot Marian Graves wants to trace — from the North to the South Pole. In reading the story of her accounts, we realize that the collective arcs of our individual stories turn out to be equally stunning. In mapping Marian’s “great circle” of life, from early abandonment as a baby, to life with her twin brother, growing up in the ruggedness of Montana, and serving in World War II, Shipstead paints a sweeping and majestic portrait of an unforgettable and spunky heroine. This is a novel to sink into and savor slowly.

Ghost Forest by Pik-Shuen Fung

 

After her family moved from Hong Kong when the city became a part of China, the protagonist of this haunting story has only truly known Vancouver as home. Yet her “astronaut” father travels back and forth to Hong Kong for work, the only place he truly considers home. In crisp vignettes the narrative details the pain of rootlessness and her struggles with making peace with her father’s brand of love. Choosing just the right details to populate every page, Fung has delivered a spectacular debut. The Ghost Forest is her special painting, a metaphor for the lingering ache of regret.

Land of Big Numbers by Te-Ping Chen

 

Single women making their way in the city. A villager using technology to find a seat in the Communist Party. These (and many other) stories gloriously portray the vibrant faces of China, as economic growth delivers bewildering riches to a generation still grappling with what it all means. “It was good, she thought, to be young, to have a weekend, to be free,” Bayi, thinks, even if her work as a “Hotline Girl,” answering calls for the Government Satisfaction Office is joyless. It’s still hers. Chen is especially gifted at exploring the very essence of China, even in far-flung America. 

The Great Mistake by Jonathan Lee

 

One of New York’s great citizens, who presented the idea of Central Park, the MET, the Public Library, was gay—which was a big deal in the nineteenth century. This brilliant murder mystery + history of the city, is easily one of the year’s very best. Read it for the stunning writing, if nothing else. Policemen are “like the lightbulbs hanging in the dreary interview room—bulbous at the hips, narrow at the head, dusty, inadequate, flickering in and out of attention.” Also: “At a certain age we forget to be afraid of people. We start to dread, instead, their absence.” Mind-blowingly good.

Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid

 

How do you explore the subtleties of race relations while delivering a compulsively readable novel with an A+ protagonist? You learn from Kiley Reid, that’s how. The central thesis of the story centers on a plot point that felt like such a remarkable coincidence that I couldn’t set it aside enough. Yet, this is sheer dynamite packaged in a fun story. 26, the age when she’ll have to have her own health insurance, looms large for Emira Tucker. Yet it is her Blackness that will be the target for people who think they know how to do right by her.

The Plot by Jean Hanff Korelitz

 

Great stories simply must make their way into the world, no matter who does the telling. Or so believes Jake Finch Bonner, the author of Crib, a runaway bestseller. The problem: the plot is not his idea. And Jake has to deal with that gut-churning reality soon enough. The dramatic story-within-a-story constantly shifts focus to reveal a cunning plot of its own, complete with a gasp-inducing twist toward the very end. The novel raises issues of the ownership of art while sketching a compelling arc. Surefire movie material, possibly directed by an A-list director — which would be Jake’s dream.

Early Morning Riser by Katherine Heiny

Practically every woman in Boyne City, Michigan, has shared her bed with Duncan. Jane hears this after she falls  in love with the handsome kind-hearted man, but she doesn’t mind. A second-grade teacher, Jane has other problems to deal with and Duncan is the perfect antidote to all of them. Eventually she makes peace with her life and with the town’s quirky people. Filled with striking metaphors — “Their conversation was like the apple dumplings, perfectly crimped around the edges and sealed off. Jane couldn’t get in.” — and warmhearted characters, this novel is sunshine in a cup. Drink deeply.

Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead

Retro Harlem springs to vivid cinematographic life in this delicious romp. Family man Ray Carney is trying to be an upstanding citizen but his cousin Freddie and his gangster dealings won’t leave Carney alone. Generous helpings of heists and shady conmen make this a fun narrative even if sometimes there’s more flash than substance. Worth reading for Whitehead’s exquisitely crafted sentences alone: “You want to know what’s going on, you ask the block wino. They see everything and then the booze pickles it, keeps it all fresh for later.” Whiteheads fans will love it, newbies should read Underground Railroad first.

Death at La Fenice (Commissario Brunetti Book 1) by Donna Leon

 

The renowned German conductor is dead from cyanide poisoning, in the bowels of Venice’s Opera House, La Fenice. A series of suspects line up as many hated the Nazi sympathizer: his young wife, the talented singer Flavia, are just a few. It’s up to Commissario Guido Brenetti to investigate the tangled web and find out the real killer. This fun novel is the first that introduces Brenetti — author Donna Leon has delivered 30 in the series — and it’s an entertaining one. Most fascinating is Venice, its waters quietly lapping at the shores of this whodunnit. Good summer reading.

The Bell in the Lake by Lars Mytting

The bells in the historic stave church in the village of Butangen, Norway, have legendary powers: They ring when danger lies ahead. What will happen when the church, as part of a preservation project, is dismantled and moved to Dresden, Germany? The descriptions of rural Norway in the nineteenth century, as well as the stave church, are spellbinding. Less riveting is the narrative around the humans: the dashing pastor Kai Schweigaard, Gerhard Schönauer, the German architect tasked with the disassembly of the church and Astrid Hekne, the strong-minded young woman from the village. Enchanting Norwegian folklore makes this a winner.

This is One Way to Dance by Sejal Shah

 

Sejal Shah’s various identities — as a woman of color, a feminist, a teacher, a daughter — swirl together in this touching collection of essays, where she is unafraid to be deeply vulnerable and authentic. My favorite captures Shah’s visit to the Burning Man festival. Newly unemployed and rudderless, Shah aims for a personal catharsis of a sort in the middle of the desert. “All my life, I have been biking with brakes on. I wanted to just go,” she says of the experience. It deeply illuminates how the weight of every carefully calibrated decision can sometimes smother a spirit.

The Lowering Days by Gregory Brown

 

The raven is considered a symbol of death -- and of healing. Early on in The Lowering Days, you know David Almerin Ames’s life has been cleaved apart by tragedy. As he narrates the story of his childhood, growing up along the Penobscot in Maine, he touches on the threads that link his family with the neighbors, the Creels. Deep-rooted resentments tinge their complicated history. The natural beauty of Maine is a vital presence, highlighted by the Penobscot native who’s had enough of the paper mill that has decimated the land. The novel also emerges as a measured look at masculinity.

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer

 

The three strands of braided sweetgrass symbolize the fusion of mind, body and spirit according to indigenous wisdom. This remarkable volume weaves these threads together in gentle prose that reminds us we have much to learn from plants. Wall Kimmerer, a member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, threads biographical elements into this iconic collection of essays that discusses a wide range of subjects from indigenous folktales to reciprocity in nature and the role of lichen in ecosystems. There is a warning here too: Windigo, the monster let loose by man’s selfishness, needs to be tamed before the damage is irreparable.

Nothing to See Here by Kevin Wilson

Nothing to see here? Well, think again. For one thing, the adorable twins that Lillian agrees to watch over for a while, combust quite spontaneously. Second, the rudderless Lillian doesn’t quite know what she’s gotten herself into. Fortunately she is a decent human being and there’s nobody quite like kids to sniff out the good from the bad. This is a layered feel-good book about class, realizing your true bearings, and above all, finding allies in the unlikeliest of places. Too often kids in novels come across as overly precocious mini-adults. Wilson’s creations are authentic and huggable, fire and all. 

The Charmed Wife by Olga Grushin

Wait, the princess is warned as she drifts off in search of the zest that will reignite her dull life. You can’t forge straight ahead, you can only turn left or right. But the princess throws caution to the wind and discovers life’s many underexplored paths. Grushin chronicles the many ways real life upsets the traditional stories of “happily ever after” we are fed as children. This brilliant narrative, a mashup of Cinderella and other fairy tales, reveals the struggles that women cope with even as they try to reconcile their everyday lives against a promised paradise that never materializes.

Once There Were Wolves by Charlotte MConaghy

Looking to rewild the forests of Scotland, Aussie wolf expert Inti Flynn moves to the highlands. She confronts opposition from farmers worried about livestock attacks and things get immensely more complex after a local goes missing. McConaghy delivers another knockout performance on the challenges ahead in our fight against climate change. Moving back and forth, tracing Inti’s own personal baggage and the obligations she works with, this is a breathtaking novel about violence and the feral nature of humanity. At the end of the day, it turns out that the last thing we need to worry about are the wolves. 

The Lying Life of Adults by Elena Ferrante

“She’s getting the (ugly) face of Vittoria.” Teenager Giovanna overhears this one devastating comment from her father, a harshness that forms the basis for Giovanna’s rebellion. Determined to meet the estranged aunt Vittoria, Giovanna gets to know the extended family and learns how to wield her sexuality as a weapon. Above all, she stumbles under the weight of the realization that her parents are imperfect beings. The adults Giovanna knows are so mediocre and petty that they deserve for their fates to be corralled into one life as the title suggests. A bold coming-of-age story narrated in a riveting voice.