With my brain still unable to put the magnitude of thoughts it produces per second into coherent neat sentences, I, obviously, did not succeed in summarising my reading year in a few sentences. So bear with my (somewhat disorganised but nowhere near as chaotic as my inner monologue) attempts to reflect on the past 12 months, and the books that accompanied them.
Big thanks to Yakym Yermak, who is the brains behind this format, and helped execute the designs of this article (as well as continues being my main book supplier :))
Planning this piece made it clear to me that my fluctuation between genres, topics, moods and settings of stories actually aligns with the fluctuations in my search for The Self, The Meaning, and many other important words, the importance of which can be reflected only using capital letters. I also feel obliged to mention that even though I didn’t meet my 50 books reading challenge, I will still praise myself for a productive year given the gazillion extra pages I read for university.
I hope you will find this glimpse into my past year of reading interesting, and maybe even encounter a book worth adding to your 2024 TBR!
Compared to my list of best books of 2022, it appears that I became more picky, at least when it comes to books I can grant the title of favourites. Among them, we find two distinct yet familiar in the characteristics of the main character novels: a YA historical fiction "Chilbudius. Borrowed Name" by Anastasia Melnychenko, and "The Idiot" by Elif Batuman (NOT Dostoyevsky, so delete your angry message). The similarity of the heroes of the two stories lies in how detached their narrative is from their lives, as if they are not properly registering the events and interactions swirling in their busy everyday. The more obvious connecting point of both books is the fact that both main characters – Vyslava and Selin – lose their sanity over a guy, but let’s gloss over this peculiarity :D
Another favourite title this year is a dark academia fiction "The Rule of Four" by Dustin Thomason and Ian Caldwell. One of the only certain things about my personality is the fact that I immensely enjoy learning, and this book took this activity to the next level. There was something really exciting about the main characters obsessing over their topic of scientific interest to the point of putting themselves in physical danger. (Side note, I mostly listened to this novel as an audiobook narrated nicely by Jeff Woodman).
Finally, the non-fiction book that really stands out in my memory is a reportage-style book "Egypt: Haram, Halal" by Piotr Ibrahim Kalwas. The style, the descriptions, everything created a very vivid picture of realities in modern-day Egypt, which definitely contrasted with the version of this country I saw as a tourist in the past. None of the other reportage books I read in 2023 matched the greatness of this piece.
Despite the prevalence of fiction novels in my category of favourites, I actually read a lot more non-fiction works this year (again, primarily thanks to my partner). "The New Map: Energy, Climate, and the Clash of Nations" by Daniel Yergin greatly helped familiarise myself with the energy sector across the world with an overview of the current situation, as well as the recent historical developments. I discovered this book right on time (during my internship in the energy business), and I would like to expand my knowledge on the topic in 2024.
I also had a timely encounter with the book "Can We Talk About Israel?: A Guide for the Curious, Confused, and Conflicted" by Daniel Sokatch, which I read some few months prior to the Israel-HAMAS war. The author definitely attempts to stay impartial, and it did help me "cool down" the fumes that incomplete information and emotionally driven messages on social media might have caused.
On the topic of war and war crimes — "They Would Never Hurt a Fly" by Slavenka Drakulić gave me shivers... This book masterfully depicts the sessions at the International Criminal Court regarding war crimes in the former Yugoslavia, and poses a very distressing question — what can make regular people commit unspeakable cruel deeds? (To give you an even better idea of my reading habits: I think some books call for a soundtrack, and the song that fit the mood of this book was Living in the Shadows by Matthew Perryman Jones.) In general, I highly recommend most of the books by Drakulić, perhaps, only despite a collection of essays "War Is The Same Everywhere", which I found less informative, and incomplete in descriptions.
The final book I want to single out in this section is "How to build relations with Asian countries" by a Ukrainian Ambassador to Japan Sergiy Korsunsky. It was a pleasure to discover a worthy title by an author from my country's diplomatic circles, and it was surely great to learn about peculiarities of conducting business and establishing diplomatic connections in the very diverse countries of Asia (primarily of East Asia*). (Note that this book is not translated into English, and also note that on the pictures below each chapter I put the covers of the editions I read. If you need help finding an English version, or if you want to borrow a book — feel free to address me).
There were only a handful of decent fiction books in my reading pile this year. Two exceeded my expectations, and two matched the expectations with which I started reading them. The former are "Beartown" by Frederik Backman, and "Nick and Charlie" by Alice Oseman. The latter — "New dark ages. Colony" by Max Kidruk, and "The Outsider" by Albert Camus.
"Beartown" had excellently developed characters, which made a rather simple plot catchy and intriguing. Additionally, I looove when the motivation of characters is understandable, this allows to really "believe" in the necessity and logic of their actions.
I haven't read any of the "Heartstopper" graphic novels, but I've watched the Netflix series, so it made sense to read the short novel "Nick and Charlie" without first investing into this book's written pre-story. This is a cosy and light-hearted read, mainly because of how foreign the lives and troubles of the main characters are to the context of my coming-of-age period...
Enough trauma dumping, let me introduce the giant of a book — "New dark ages. Colony". This 904-page monster is a fantastic example of detailed world-building, with the events and storylines happening simultaneously on Mars, in Ukraine, in the US, at the South Pole, maybe somewhere else too... Overall, I am really looking forward to the next part of this series!
Finally, "The Outsider" became my introduction to Camus, and, given my appreciation for troubled characters that narrate their lives in an unusual manner (see literally half of my favourites section), I had a good time reading this book.
Since we are in a long-distance relationship, but still want to read literature together, comics and graphic novels are the best options for the often short periods of living together. This way, we easily manage to read ~2 books a week! Moreover, we prefer not purely entertaining works, and we want to support Ukrainian publishers, who chose to occupy this niche. That is why "Vydavnytstvo" publishing house became our friend.
This year, our favourites were two volumes of "The Story of Sex" by Philippe Brenot and Laëtitia Coryn, which explore the history and peculiarities of intimate relationships in Europe, Asia, and Africa. The book "Chicken with Plums" by the famous Marjane Satrapi immersed us in the events and atmosphere of Iran in the 1950-60s and told the story of a man who spent his entire life conforming to social standards, ignoring his own desires, and finally died because of it. We plan to start 2024 with another work by this author, "Persepolis" :)
The illustrations of "Blue Pills" by Frederik Peeters aptly describe aspects of family life and relationship with an HIV-positive partner. Through the prism of his own life, the author highlights a taboo topic, dispelling fear and distrust. Finally, another good title in this category is "Fatherland" by Nina Bunjevac.
There goes my 2023 reading year! I hope this article was as enoyable to read, as it was enjoyable to write, and I will (hopefully) see you same time, same place next year!
Moreover, my policy at the time was that, when confronted by two courses of action, one should always choose the less conservative and more generous. I thought this was tantamount to a moral obligation for anyone who had any advantages at all.
Elif Batuman in "The Idiot"