It’s that time of year again, where best-of lists are like the Kardashian klan: bitches just keep coming.
My favorite end-of-year features are the ones that depart from the marketing mainstream (since those lists, with a few predictably outré exceptions, are pretty much identical). Like The Millions’ A Year in Reading list, where writers describe their favorite reads this year (regardless of the books’ publication dates). Or The Casual Optimist’s best book covers of 2011.
As a purifying exercise I decided to narrow down my own picks to one book; I thought it might illuminate what I value most in a reading experience. So apparently I like my books existentially searching, conceptually robust, vividly lyrical, and free. (I owe you this year, Cambridge Public Library, and not just the $2.70 in overdue late charges.) The Unnamed by Joshua Ferris is the book I read this year that I just haven’t stopped thinking about. It’s gorgeous. (It came out last year but hey, my blog, my rules.)
And for the meta-mother of all best-of-2011 booklists, see the infinite scroll over at Largehearted Boy. I doff my hat to you, sir. Happy New Year!
No Comments