Can we really be in December already? This month not only means the holidays, overeating and the end of the year, but also the time for my annual wrap-up of the best fiction I read in 2011. To see my picks from previous years, click here. Like last year, I read so many worth talking about that I’m going to need two blog posts to fit them all in.
My biggest lament, as always, are all the great ones I didn’t get to. I hope our readers will help add to this list by posting comments at the bottom. Okay, on to Part I of my favorites from 2011!
The Art of Fielding
Chad Harbach
There was so much buzz around the publication of this excellent first novel, and when I learned that the novel revolves around both literature and baseball, I knew this one was for me. The Art of Fielding follows Henry Skrimshander, an incredibly talented shortstop at small Westish College in Wisconsin. Henry, with the coaxing and coaching of his pal Mike Schwartz (my favorite character in the novel), blossoms even further, and by his junior year major league scouts are showing up as he nears Luis Aparicio’s amateur record of consecutive games without an error. It’s hard to tell much more without giving away the plot, but all is not smooth sailing for Henry as he has a Steve Sax/Chuck Knoblauch type meltdown (baseball fans will know what this means, and it’s absolutely excruciating to read). While the novel has some of the best writing about baseball I’ve read, especially on the artistry and grace of fielding, this is much more than a “sports” novel, as there’s complicated relationships, romances, and heartbreak exploding all around. If I’m being cranky, my one complaint would be that some of the narrative twists felt a bit forced (especially near the end), but this was easily one of my top books of the year and I heartily recommend it.
PS: On Wednesday, the New York Times named The Art of Fielding one of the top 5 fiction books of the year.
The Lonely Polygamist
Brady Udall
Golden Richards has four wives, twenty-eight children and some serious despair in his heart. He spends a lot of his time in a near-impossible quest for some peace, and his increasingly frigid relationship with his wives, kids and a super-stressful, failing business venture are killing him. Needless to say, all is not well on the home front, with one wife ready to leave him and one son plotting revenge. Richards is building a brothel in Nevada, and there he falls in love with a woman he sees walking near the construction site. There’s something really winning about the hapless, pitiable Richards, but I can’t say I loved this book. Perhaps it was just me, but I found the pacing slow (most reviewers felt otherwise) and long stretches uninvolving. Finally, the concept of the polygamist life not being all it’s cracked up to be didn’t really strike me as revelatory.
Mr. Peanut
Adam Ross
The first two sentences of this novel let you know what you’re in for: “When David Pepin first dreamed of killing his wife, he didn’t kill her himself. He dreamed convenient acts of God.”
Actually, David loves his obese wife Alice, but not her dread, mannerisms or obsessions, and he dreams of endless ways of killing her. Once she’s dead, the detectives Hastroll and Sheppard step in and (initially at least) it seems the novel will loop back solely to the story of David and Alice’s marriage. However, things take a very unexpected turn, both in subject matter and style, and that risky move seems to divide people’s opinion of the book. Personally, I really liked Mr. Peanut, both for the admirable intricacy of the plotting as well as its focus and ruminations on relationships and marriage. I’ve read that this book is becoming something of a quick cult classic, and I bet most people will tell you they either love it or hate it. Give it a try and see what you think.
Sunset Park and Invisible
Paul Auster
I’ve read most of Paul Auster’s novels, and we’re so lucky to have a novelist who never stops redefining and pushing the boundaries of storytelling. Auster is always playing with structure, voice, point of view, meta-fiction and postmodernism; and Sunset Park and Invisible are his two most recent novels. I really liked Sunset Park and really hated Invisible, and a lot of Auster fans will tell you that dichotomy is completely normal. In the case of Sunset Park, a story about Miles and his friends squatting in foreclosed houses in Florida, his unusual approach really works. I found that Sunset Park hit squarely on the feelings of despair and hopelessness many in our country have experienced over the last few years. In Invisible, young and eccentric Adam Walker meets the enigmatic Rudolf Born and his lover, the beautiful Margot, while at Columbia University. This one was not for me, but the New York Times loved it, so what do I know? If you’re interested in Auster, some of my favorites are The Book of Illusions, Man in the Dark, Oracle Night, Travels in the Scriptorium, The Brooklyn Follies and his famous New York Trilogy.
The Ask
Sam Lipsyte
Another novel that reflects these tough economic times, and this one really pulls no punches. Sad-sack Milo Burke is not only a failure at bringing in donors at the small university he works for, but in life. His chance at redemption is hauling in a large fish: “The Ask,” represented by Purdy Stuart, a former classmate who has hit it big. This darkly comic novel is not for those looking to be inspired or uplifted, as you can feel the sting in Milo’s acidic comments and dim view of the world. I know this type of cynical, bleak novel is not for everyone, but even if it’s not always enjoyable, I thought this funny, biting satire of our society was very well done. Still, not a holiday gift for Grandma.
Room
Emma Donahue
Wow, wow and wow. Along with Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, Room might be one of the most unnerving novels I’ve ever read. The story is told from the point of view of Jack, a boy to whom Room is the whole world. To his mother (Ma) Room is the prison where she has been kept for seven years. Ma has done her best to try to create a life for her and Jack in Room, but things have to change, and she has a plan for her and Jack to escape Room and Old Nick. I found Room harrowing and impossible to put down. I hate when reviewers over-gush about books, but even if you don’t love this one, it truly is unforgettable.
I’ll be back in the next week or so with Part II of my list, which will include my two favorite novels of 2011. In the meantime, I’d love to hear from our readers on their best fiction reads!
