I doubt it will come as a surprise when I tell you that in 2020 I beat my previous records for both number of books and number of pages read in a year. I had hoped it would be the year I made it to fifty-two books (one book a week), but sadly, with one thing and another, I didn’t quite get there. But forty-six books is not far shy of that goal, and since there were a good number of impactful first reads in the collection, I have had to expand my “Read List” posts right along with the rest of my 2020 reflections.
If you are new to my “Read Lists,” my usual rules for these posts are as follows: I pick around eight of the most impactful books that I have read for the first time in the past twelve months to discuss and recommend. Simple. Choosing: not so simple. Looking over 2020’s list, I had trouble narrowing it down to sixteen. But in the end I did. Eight fiction. Eight nonfiction. Because it’s February and I’m in a fairy-tale sort of mood, we’ll begin with fiction.
- Spindle’s End: Robin McKinley
I cannot tell you how long I’ve had a copy of Spindle’s End sitting on my bookshelf or where it came from. I do know I first found Robin McKinley in middle or high school through her book Rose Daughter. I read Beauty and The Outlaws of Sherwood at around the same time. I have since reread Rose Daughter and Beauty countless times but had continued to overlook Spindle’s End. Whether I avoided it because I’d never had a strong connection with the Sleeping Beauty story, or because I shied away from most fantasy reading in my twenties, or simply because I had an ongoing stack of other interesting things to read, I can’t say. What I can say is that when I finally pulled it off the shelf and cracked it open last January, I was immediately entranced. It may have become my new favorite Robin McKinley book. Although, unless I can get my hands on a copy of the audiobook read by the British instead of the American edition narrator (Justine Eyre reads The Historian, which I revisit in audio every year, but for whatever reason, her cadence in reading Spindle’s End irks me), I’ll probably continue to spend less time with it than the others. As with the other McKinleys I so dearly love, the ending of this seems a little rushed and patched together for my taste, but the worlds and characters she builds along the way are delightful, delicious places I love to linger. She has a real knack for breathing vivid life into the old, familiar fairy tales. I’ll take Rosie the blacksmith over the wilting Aurora of Disney’s Sleeping Beauty any day.
2. The House at Lobster Cove: Jane Goodrich
I picked this up just before Christmas 2019 at the Brookline Booksmith. The Booksmith is a marvelous local independent I’d heard of countless times but had not previously made the Green-Line trek to visit. When Dylan and I went out that way to see a National Theatre screening of Present Laughter, however, we couldn’t help stopping in. And I couldn’t help scooping up a copy of The House at Lobster Cove. The cover is entrancing—textured paper with a pen-and-ink sketch and text all designed by the author. Her story enchanted me almost as much as the book she wrote. She and her husband, inspired by the images they’d seen and stories they’d heard of a house named Kragsyde, went in search of the place on Massachusetts’ North Shore only to find it had been demolished. Not to be deterred, designer Goodrich and her architect husband set about acquiring a copy of the original plans to Kragsyde and rebuilding the house in Maine. They live there to this day. So when Goodrich sat down to write a novelized account of the life of Boston philanthropist George Nixon Black, she had the house he originally designed and loved close at hand for inspiration. Nixon’s story is itself a wonder: quiet, unassuming, and possessing the beautiful soul the man himself must have possessed. I bade farewell to Nixon at the end of February, excited to stand before the site of his Beacon Hill townhouse and add his story to my Boston repertoire. Sadly, COVID never gave me the chance. But I can share him with you by heartily recommending this book. And I shall.
3. The Starless Sea: Erin Morgenstern
This I also found at the Brookline Booksmith. I picked it up because it was about a magical, hidden library, which is just the sort of place I would very often like to find myself. It was not really at all what I was expecting. What begins as a peaceful mystery concerning an un-catalogued library book quickly slides down a rabbit hole into a breakneck scramble through myth and madness. It was exhilarating, absorbing, and stoked my imagination. I finished it as I wandered around the Houston airport last January, waiting out an eight-hour flight delay. Never did I think I would find myself just a year later strongly wishing for a trip to any airport, but here we are. If you’re looking for your next armchair escape, this one is definitely a ride. Pieces of it have often come to mind in the intervening months, and I do love a book that sticks with me!
4. Once Upon a River: Diane Setterfield
What a joy of a book! I first read Diane Setterfield when I devoured The Thirteenth Tale over a Thanksgiving break in either high school or college. I don’t remember much about that one, except that it was dark and twisting and grippingly gothic in a way I couldn’t put down. But my memories of The Thirteenth Tale had nothing to do with my picking up Once Upon a River. In fact, I didn’t even make the connection between the two books until I was about halfway through the latter. No, I dove into Once Upon a River because I liked the blurb on Audible, and I adore Juliet Stevenson, who was listed as the narrator. (I had the great delight of meeting Ms. Stevenson once after a remarkable performance in London. She was just as gracious as I could have wished!) Her narration was superb and the story simply magical. So as not to give too much away, I’ll simply say that the story and the entrancing cast of characters defied my expectations in the best way. I didn’t want it to end.
5. Dreamers of the Day: Mary Doria Russell
Late in August of 2020, feeling cooped up by our apartment and the city, Dylan and I decided to attempt a socially-distanced weekend away and rented an Airbnb about forty-five minutes west of Boston. We spent the weekend cooking and playing games in a kitchen larger than our own, looking out over trees and hills instead of a parking lot. We also decided, all precautions in place, it would be safe to pay a visit to a local independent bookstore. We found Annie’s Bookstop, and there I found a wonderful stack of used reads, including Dreamers of the Day. I picked it up because it promised two things near and dear to my heart: Egypt (see my dear affinity for the Amelia Peabody books) and Winston Churchill. Agnes Shanklin is a schoolteacher in Ohio in 1919. She loses her entire family to the Spanish Flu (definitely didn’t make that connection when reading the blurb and found that bit somewhat uncomfortable reading in 2020), inherits a sizable sum of money, and decides to take a trip to Egypt. She finds herself there during the 1921 Cairo Conference and befriends T.E. Lawrence and Winston Churchill. A simple enough premise for a slim novel. But Agnes goes on a journey in 270 pages, and I went right along with her. It was one of those books that jumped off the shelf at just the right moment for me. It felt a little like the best sort of therapy reading through it. I’m glad I took the time.
6. The Binding: Bridget Collins
In October of 2020, Dylan and I once again checked leisure travel guidelines, got COVID tests, masked up, got in the car, and this time drove up to Maine. The primary goals of our trip were to spend a few days looking at the ocean from our favorite room in our favorite inn in Camden and to get some engagement photos taken. But we also wanted to support some local businesses on our way (besides the inn of course) and so made a point (as ever) of stopping in at our favorite independent bookstores. The cover of The Binding caught my eye in Sherman’s Maine Coast Book Shop in Portland, and it proved to be another excellent find. Gothic, romantic, fantastic, dystopian, thought-provoking, thoroughly engrossing, beautifully written—the story of a farm boy who, after a mysterious illness, finds himself apprenticed to a book binder in a world where the art of binding books involves more than paper, leather, and glue. I won’t risk spoilers, as part of the delight is unfolding the mystery as you go, but I will risk a bad pun: it is spellbinding.
7. Meet Me at the Museum: Anne Youngson
The first time we stopped by the Owl and Turtle in Camden this last trip, Dylan found a treasure, and I walked out empty-handed. This made me feel a little guilty, so we stopped back in on our way out of town, and I came away with a copy of Meet Me at the Museum. I’ve recommended The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society here before. It is one of my favorite books and written entirely in letters. It is akin to 84, Charing Cross Road, and The Chilbury Ladies’ Choir, and this is akin to those. Tina is a farmer’s wife in England and Anders is the curator of a museum in Denmark. By chance, they begin a correspondence that sees them both through times of grief and inspires them to view their own lives and choices with fresh eyes. It is a simple story, simply told, and powerful in its simplicity. What joys do we find in our everyday lives. What everyday things might change if we looked at them through new eyes? Is anything ever too fixed to be changed?
8. The Bear and the Nightingale: Katherine Arden
I ended the year as I began it, with fairy tales. Though unlike Robin McKinley’s work, these stories were new to me. We left our apartment, for the last time in 2020, at the beginning of November to spend a little time among the mountains. We cozied up in a perfect little Airbnb in northern Vermont, hiked and, of course, did a little socially-distanced book browsing. I picked up quite a stack at Bear Pond Books in Montpelier, at the top of which was The Bear and the Nightingale. The book opens in front of a family fireplace deep inside a Russian winter. Around that fireplace, stories are being told. The scene was at once so familiar, cozy, foreign, and enticing that it seemed just the thing to accompany me on the slow slide into our own Massachusetts winter. Katherine Arden weaves what I gather are pieces of traditional Russian mythology and folk stories into a transfixing, and at times horrifying, shaping-the-hero story. And her hero, as are Robin McKinley’s, is a girl. As I had hoped, it was just the sort of old magic I wanted to warm some of the long nights of our COVID holiday season. I finished it quite eager for the second installment, but given the stack of other books already waiting on my shelf, I have, so far, postponed the pleasure.
And there you have the fiction section of 2020’s Read List. As ever, I’ve included the full list below for anyone who might be interested. And stay tuned for the nonfiction list, coming soon!
- Spindle’s End: Robin McKinley (1.6.20, 422 pgs.)
- Rose Daughter: Robin McKinley (1.17.20, 304 pgs.)
- The Starless Sea: Erin Morgenstern (1.19.20, 512 pgs)
- Beauty: Robin McKinley (1.22.20, 256 pgs)
- The Outlaws of Sherwood: Robin McKinley (1.24.20, 345 pgs.) January: 1,839 pgs.
- The House at Lobster Cove: Jane Goodrich (2.29.20, 377 pgs) February: 377 pgs.
- 17 Carnations: The Royals, The Nazis, and the Biggest Cover-Up in History: Andrew Morton (3.24.20, 327 pgs.)
- Justice Hall: Laurie R. King (3.29.20, 352 pgs.)
- Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy: The Story of Little Women and Why It Still Matters: Anne Boyd Rioux (3.31.20, 225 pgs.) March: 904 pgs.
- The Moor: Laurie R. King (4.9.20, 287 pgs.)
- A Letter of Mary: Laurie R. King (4.14.20, 275 pgs.)
- The Fellowship: The Literary Lives of the Inklings: Philip Zaleski & Carol Zaleski (4.22.20, 512 pgs.)
- A Monstrous Regiment of Women: Laurie R. King (4.24.20, 278 pgs.) April: 1,352 pgs.
- Island of the Mad: Laurie R. King (5.2.20, 299 pgs.)
- The Brother Gardeners: Botany, Empire, and the Birth of an Obsession: Andrea Wulf (5.8.20, 246 pgs)
- The Game: Laure R. King (5.11.20, 400 pgs.)
- The God of the Hive: Laurie R. King (5.20.20, 354 pgs)
- Once Upon A River: Diane Setterfield (5.31.20, 496 pgs)
- As If an Enemy’s Country: The British Occupation of Boston and the Origins of Revolution: Richard Archer (5.31.20, 232 pgs.) May: 2,027 pgs.
- The Historian: Elizabeth Kostova (6.14.20, 642 pgs)
- Pride and Prejudice: Jane Austen (6.20.20, 375 pgs.)
- Garment of Shadows: Laurie R. King (6.25.20, 260 pgs)
- The Power of Ritual: Turning Everyday Activities into Soulful Practices: Casper Ter Kuile (6.29.20, 224 pgs.) June: 1,501 pgs.
- Emma: Jane Austen (7.6.20, 453 pgs.)
- F*uck No!: How to Stop Saying Yes When You Can’t, You Shouldn’t, or You Just Don’t Want To: Sarah Knight (7.9.20, 304 pgs.)
- Calm the F*ck Down: How to Control What You Can and Accept What You Can’t So You Can Stop Freaking Out and Get On With Your Life: Sarah Knight (7.14.20, 304 pgs.)
- Get Your Sh*t Together: How to Stop Worrying About What You Should Do So You Can Finish What You Need to Do and Start Doing What You Want to Do: Sarah Knight (7.20.20, 304 pgs.)
- Two Steps Forward: Graeme Simsion and Anne Buist (7.22.20, 362 pgs.)
- Becoming: Michelle Obama (7.28.20, 448 pgs.) July: 2,175 pgs.
- How to Be an Antiracist: Ibram X. Kendi (8.10.20, 320 pgs.)
- The Witches Are Coming: Lindy West (8.13.20, 272 pgs)
- Celtic Mythology: Tales of Gods, Goddesses, and Heroes: Philip Freeman (8.16.20, 296 pgs.)
- The Amulet of Samarkand: The Bartimaeus Trilogy, Book 1: Jonathan Stroud (8.18.20, 462 pgs.)
- Who Thought This Was a Good Idea?: And Other Questions You Should Have Answers to When You Work in the White House: Alyssa Mastromonaco (8.26.20, 272 pgs.) August: 1,622 pgs.
- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone: J.K. Rowling (9.22.20, 309 pgs.)
- The Splendid and the Vile: A Saga of Churchill, Family, and Defiance During the Blitz: Erik Larson (9.28.20, 509 pgs.) September: 818 pgs.
- The Hobbit: J.R.R. Tolkien (10.13.20, 300 pgs.)
- Riviera Gold: Laurie R. King (10.21.20, 368 pgs)
- The Best Punctuation Book, Period: A Comprehensive Guide for Every Writer, Editor, Student, and Businessperson: June Casagrande (10.22.20, 256 pgs.)
- Dreamers of the Day: Mary Doria Russell (10.30.20, 270 pgs.) October: 1,194 pgs
- The World of Critical Role: The History Behind the Epic Fantasy: Liza Marsham (11.6.20, 320 pgs.)
- The Binding: Bridget Collins (11.12.20, 435 pgs.)
- Meet Me at the Museum: Anne Youngson (11.17.20, 272 pgs.)
- Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times: Katherine May (11.23.20, 256 pgs) November: 1,283 pgs
- The Bear and the Nightingale: Katherine Arden (12.1.20, 333 pgs.)
- The Mermaid and Mrs. Handcock: Imogen Hermes Gowar (12.25.20, 487 pgs.) December: 820 pgs
Total: 46 Books, 15,912 Pages









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