It’s been a while since inspiration struck for a book-related blog but after the operation last week I treated myself to a stack of books I’ve been desperate to read for ages. One of them, Character Breakdownby Zawe Ashton, is like nothing I’ve ever read before and it immediately warranted a whole blog to itself.
I splurged…
I have always had a soft spot for actresses’ autobiographies as is well documented on this blog that is *supposed* to be about fiction, but Character Breakdown occupies a wonderful space between fiction and non-fiction, which is kind of the whole point. The stories told in this book come in one of two forms: a script following the world of ‘Actress,’ or a casting character breakdown with a narrative. Don’t try to work out what’s ‘real’ and what’s not, it’ll ruin the fun.
Ashton, who you probably know best as Vod from Fresh Meat, is a really gifted writer, partly because she possesses the extraordinary talent of being able to say a lot by either saying very little or by saying nothing at all. The blank spaces of this book speak as loudly as the text, perhaps even louder. Some of the most striking parts of Character Breakdowncome in the shortest of stories that are simply an interaction between an actress and a casting call, but the entrenched racism and sexism of the theatre/film/TV/showbiz industries scream off the pages so obnoxiously that no commentary is required.
The book gives off the vibe of a strained inner monologue but the liminal nature of its genre keeps you on your toes about whose monologue it is. This book is in a world of its own and I didn’t want to leave. Five stars from me.
Happy almost-Christmas-and-New-Year! It’s been a busy few months and blogging took a back seat while I got my teeth into the first semester of my masters but I wanted to take the time to reflect and chat about what I’ve read this year. My goal was to read 65 books including 12 in French and I actually did it! I hit 65 in September, and 12 French books in November. There’s still a few weeks left in December but I’ve been reading much slower since I started studying again so I’m currently on my 80th book of the year (and have been for a while). But 80 is ridiculous and points to the fact that I had a lot of down-time earlier this year. Still, I’m chuffed with it because, for the most part, it’s been really good, proper reading.
Halfway through 2018 I wrote about my favourite books of the year so far and I’m sure there might be a few crossovers, but otherwise here are my favourite reads of 2018!
Non-Fiction
About 30% of my reading this year has been non-fiction. The latter end of the year has included a lot of textbooks but the first half saw lots of biographies and slightly more entertaining non-fiction books. Biography highlights include Juno Dawson’s The Gender Gamesand Lily Allen’s My Thoughts Exactly. I’ve since written an essay about the latter that wasn’t nearly as complimentary as my review on the blog… academia’s getting to me!
I read Hillary Clinton’s book What Happenedat the beginning of the year and recently finished Michelle Obama’s Becoming – it feels natural to pair them together, not just because they’re two former first ladies but because both hardback books are obnoxiously large. I enjoyed Clinton’s book, but given it’s about the 2016 U.S. election, it was pretty depressing, whereas Obama’s was a lot more interesting, hopeful and joyful (for the most part, it still ends with the 2016 election…)
See! Why do first ladies’ books insist on being enormous!
The funniest non-fiction book I read this year would have to be Adam Kay’s This is Going to Hurt. As you know I’m no stranger to the NHS and it’s great to see it being celebrated and ridiculed simultaneously, I hope it makes people realise how much trouble the NHS is in but also how important it is that we save it. #SaveOurNHS
Ask Me About My Uterusby Abby Norman is a powerful book that I continue to think about, but I’d say the non-fiction book that’s had the biggest impact on me this year is the first one I read, Reni Eddo-Lodge’s Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race. If you’re interested in Black British history and what it means to be an intersectional feminist (which you should be), give this brilliant book a read.
*New* Fiction
I had a steady income for the first half of the year and so I pushed myself to read new, shiny, contemporary novels while I could afford to buy them. On reflection, I realise that all the contemporary fiction I read this year was written by women… oops #sorrynotsorry. Over the year, I’ve recommended some of these books to friends and family, some of whom have been fundamentally challenged by them – but that, to me, is the sign of great writing.
I’m still obsessed with Dawn O’Porter’s The Cowsbut I’ve definitely written about it more than enough on the blog. Ditto with Caroline O’Donoghue’s Promising Young Women – you can read reviews of both here.
I absolutely loved The Powerby Naomi Alderman and The Hate U Giveby Angie Thomas but I think, only slightly, Homegoingby Yaa Gyasi and Home Fireby Kamila Shamsie have a slight edge for me. Actually, I take that back – these are four astonishing books that deal with incredibly complicated, ever-present issues in thought-provoking, daring and often beautiful ways. My life is richer for having read them and I highly recommend you read them too.
Fiction
This year I read Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materialstrilogy for the first time. I can’t say I totally get the hype, mostly because for some reason I just didn’t like Lyra’s character, which I’ve learnt is an unpopular opinion… but I enjoyed them nonetheless, particularly all the theological musings.
From Penguin’s Women’s Writers editions released earlier this year, my favourite was E. Nesbitt’s The Lark, which was a really fun, uncomplicated read. But my favourite novel that I read this year is Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Purple Hibiscus. The depth of Adichie’s writing always blows me away – her ability to create such whole, lifelike and complex characters without writing books the length of War and Peace is mindboggling (and a skill I hope I can learn myself).
Français
I’ll resist the temptation to repeat what I did last year and say that my favourite French reads have been Harry Potter, even though reading the series in French was one of the best reading endeavours I’ve ever embarked on, let alone finished this year. Instead, there’s another obvious choice: Chanson Douce (Lullaby) by Leïla Slimani. It’s such a thrilling read, which I’ve discussed before, that paints a really uncanny picture of France today – I can’t wait to read it again in English.
Special shout out to a bit of French ‘chick-lit’ that I read during my trip around France this summer. Le parfum du bonheur est plus fort sous la pluieby Virginie Grimaldi was the perfect match for my French reading level. I kind of hated the plot and characters at the beginning but it really surprised me and went down a much darker route than I expected, dealing with miscarriage and divorce in refreshing ways.
Poetry
I finally got into poetry this year, thanks to two brilliant women: Maya Angelou and Rupi Kaur. I’ve always really struggled with poetry but this year I realised that the poetry I studied at school and university was only the tip of the iceberg and that there’s so much out there that is much more to my taste. I read Kaur’s The Sun and Her Flowersand Angelou’s incredibly well-known collection And Still I rise. If, like I did, you think poetry isn’t for you, give these two a read if you haven’t already.
Book Buying Update!
The final thing to say is that I met another one of my reading resolutions: I haven’t bought a single book from Amazon or Waterstones this year. It’s got me out of the house and into some really cool bookshops across London, exploring book stalls on holiday in Montpellier and Lyon and enjoying better, more ethical service from other online booksellers like Wordery.com. I have an affiliate link with Wordery, so if you’re buying books this Christmas please consider using my link as it will help me and the blog out big time. Thank you!
I’ve always been a huge fan of Lily Allen’s music and I love an autobiography, so when I heard that she was writing one I was very excited. My Thoughts Exactlyis an addictive read that doesn’t disappoint. I’ve always considered Allen to be a bit of a lyrical genius, but now she’s proved herself as a talented writer beyond the realm of music.
As much as I wanted to savour My Thoughts Exactly, I whizzed through it because it’s so engaging and moving. Allen reveals her darkest moments, fesses up to her failings and raises awareness about a whole bunch of important issues.
The book chronicles her life so far but not in a strictly chronological order. Always a controversial figure, the tabloid press has often had it in for Allen, so there are some events that you expect to read about, some that show just how wrong some of Allen’s critics appear to have been and others that you don’t see coming. Unsurprisingly, given the title, the stories are very much from her perspective, she doesn’t try to give other sides of the story because she can only give her version of events. From the off, she’s very open and honest about what you’re about to read.
It’s not a particularly happy book, but I wasn’t expecting it to be. Tackling drug abuse, stalking, infidelity, assault, stillbirth, divorce and mental health, it’s a rough ride. Allen writes it all so vividly and honestly that you’ll often be angry at various people and things, including, but not limited to, Allen’s parents, the music industry, the police, the press and Lily Allen herself. She apologies for the racism in the satiricalmusic video for Hard Out Here and says it was a result of her not paying attention to what was going on around her. Given her very intense personal life that seems entirely possible, but also, it isn’t really good enough, is it? She does, however, talk about how once she stopped being defensive about it she then became interested in intersectional feminism. Allen seems determined to learn from her mistakes but doesn’t deny them ever having happened.
My Thoughts Exactlydocuments a lot of chaos. In fact, it’s not unlike the late, great Carrie Fisher’s autobiographies, it’s certainly written as well as them only with considerably less humour. It gets really dark at times, and you find yourself wincing through several chapters, but happily, it has a hopeful ending.
Allen also departs from the big events to talk about some topics in broader terms, female sexuality is one of them — which of course caught my attention (#sexualityinculture)! She discusses her struggle with orgasm and the lessons she had to learn to take her own pleasure seriously — it turns out that the song It’s Not Fair wasn’t written about one partner in particular but all sexual encounters in general. Even more relevant to this blog, she touches upon how trauma impacted her menstrual cycle and contraception. #Nevernotrelevant
For fans of her music, it’s a must-read. One of my favourite things about Allen’s music is that it’s not all romantic love songs, she writes about the press and politics, siblings and parenthood, loss and feminism. All the backstories you’ve imagined from the lyrics and dodgy press coverage are set aside as you learn the real stories behind the songs. It doesn’t make them less relatable, instead, it allows her music to mean even more.
I absolutely loved 
fictitiouslyhilary.com 