50 books I love (part II)
Featuring two books set in rural Pennsylvania (a niche setting, if nothing else), and another about a woman whose long-suppressed resentment finally simmers to the surface...
Welcome to part deux of fifty books I’ve loved (books 26—50, though—I hasten to add—they’re in no particular order). Two weeks later than planned, but, better late than never. If you missed part one (books 1—25), you can find it here. I’ll keep the intro brief, because—quite frankly—there’s a lot of books to get through.
As always, let me know in the comments—any favourites from the list? Any you loathed? Been meaning to give one of them a go? Consider this your sign to do so!
Behold the Dreamers by Imbolo Mbue
This was the first book I read after moving to LA, sitting by the shared pool in our apartment—lonelier than I’d ever been and disillusioned with the so-called American Dream. Behold the Dreamers beautifully captures the immigrant experience with nuance and emotional depth, following a Cameroonian couple striving for a better life in New York while working for a wealthy white family. Mbue’s tender yet unsparing storytelling explores race, class, privilege, and the fragile promises of opportunity in modern America. A book that I want everyone to read.
Life Drawing by Robin Black
You learn the ending of this book at the very beginning, yet by the time I reached it, I was so consumed I had completely forgotten I’d been forewarned. This novel often makes my list of top ten favourites: it’s a quiet yet emotionally explosive story of art, marriage, and betrayal. A painter seeking solitude with her husband in rural Pennsylvania finds her world unraveling with the arrival of a new neighbour. Black’s writing is precise and evocative, capturing the fragility of long-term relationships and the quiet devastation of secrecy. Meditative and introspective, the novel builds subtle but shattering tension.
Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters
I have mixed feelings about working my way through the New York Times 100 Best Books of the 21st Century—particularly when I’m stuck in the trenches, as I am at the moment. But when I come across a book like Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters, the challenge feels worth it. A groundbreaking exploration of gender, identity, and unconventional motherhood, Peters crafts a witty, deeply intelligent narrative about a transgender woman, her detransitioned ex, and his lover as they navigate an unexpected pregnancy. With razor-sharp dialogue and profoundly messy, real characters, it’s darkly funny, deeply moving, and utterly original.
The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead
Another book from the New York Times 100 Best Books of the 21st Century, The Underground Railroad reimagines the escape network as a literal train system, turning history into something surreal yet deeply visceral. Following Cora, an enslaved woman on the run, the novel moves through different states, each stop exposing new horrors. Whitehead’s writing is restrained yet powerful, the pacing relentless, and the novel itself both an allegory and an unflinching look at America’s past.
The Awakening by Kate Chopin
A daring and ahead-of-its-time exploration of female autonomy and desire, Edna Pontellier’s journey of self-discovery, set against the backdrop of 19th-century New Orleans, is both exhilarating and tragic. Chopin’s prose is lyrical yet precise, capturing the intoxicating pull of freedom and the crushing weight of societal expectations. The novel’s themes of motherhood, sensuality, and artistic yearning are still relevant today, over a century after its first publication. I love it for its quiet rebellion, its melancholic beauty, and its refusal to provide easy resolutions.
The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton
I read The Age of Innocence many moons ago, right after The Awakening, and in my mind, the two novels are forever linked. A story of quiet heartbreak, longing, and societal constraint, The Age of Innocence captures the stifling elegance of Gilded Age New York. Newland Archer is torn between duty and desire, caught between a conventional marriage and the captivating, unconventional Countess Olenska. Wharton’s prose is razor-sharp, her social commentary biting, and the emotional undercurrents devastating. A novel about love thwarted by propriety and the tragedy of a life half-lived, it really is as good as everyone says.
Sandwich by Catherine Newman
It will surprise absolutely no-one that Sandwich by
has made it onto this list. I’ve been wanging on about this book for a good nine months now, and will no doubt be doing until the end of the decade (at least). Set in a Cape Cod summer house (which should be a genre in and of itself) Sandwich is about the complexities of families, about an imperfect marriage and its ebbs and flows over the course of several decades, and about how loving people is an exquisite kind of torture. It’s a perfect, perfect book. I read it twice last year, and I still cannot stop thinking (and talking) about it.