Your summer reading list, part 2
Also: a spicy Netflix doc, a fascinating pod and the return of a noughties heartthrob
This week I have been:
unable to get David Guetta’s remix of the finance guy meme out of my head (I CURSE the day “six fyyyv, blue iyyys” earwormed itself into my brain)
pulling up the buzzword drawbridge thanks to FOBI (just no) and tolyamory (more no)
interviewing Vanessa Walters about The Lagos Wife for The Feminist Book Club, and Coco Mellors about Blue Sisters for Ref Reads, my book club for Reformation. The next event is in September - details TBD!
I’m so grateful to all the suggestions under the list of '90’s films my husband and I are making a personal project of re-watching (one every other Sunday!) - the list has now spiralled wildly out of control and will take us approx 4 years to complete - and under my piece about parenting a young reader. I’ve had so many great book recs for early readers from you guys, I think I’ll do a post soon about books for 6-8 year olds. Thank you!
It’s time for part 2 of my summer reading list, to add to the last letter’s titles. There’s at least one, if not two more parts to this series, as there are so many damn good books coming out this summer. (But also… don’t forget the classics gathering dust on your bookshelves! I try - and Book Chat, thankfully, forces me to do this - to mix some old in with the new.)
First up, Going Home by Tom Lamont, a tender, original, finely-paced debut. Lamont is a journalist, usually for The Guardian, and his novel is about a little boy, Joel, who loses his mother in tragic circumstances, and the 3 men jostling and vying and avoiding being his parent by proxy: Téo, long in unrequited love with Joel’s late mum, forced home by her sudden death; Ben, the local Peter Pan and Téo’s erstwhile best friend; and Vic, Téo’s father who sees another shot at parenthood in Joel’s surprise arrival. If I were to re-name it, I’d call it Three Men and a Little Laddy.
I think - and I’ve seen other people suggest the same - this book has been percolating in Lamont for a long time, because it feels like he knows exactly what beats he wants to hit: fatherhood, male friendship, religion, mental health. It’s set in Enfield, and Lamont captures the familiarity and claustrophobia of suburban London and the feeling that nothing and everything has changed. What I love the most is how Lamont draws Joel: he might only be two, but he is a person of great importance. He is disgusting and earnest and furious and heartbroken for his mum and “just gorgeous”.
Reading Going Home is to feel moved and frustrated (these men can be… frustrating) and frequently both at the same time.
Next up, another debut: The Husbands by Holly Gramazio which was a riot to read. I was never bored, never felt the plot get sticky, or soggy or forced. It’s a smart, witty satire about the the illusion of choice in swipe-right dating via - and bear with - a time-travelling attic, which produces a new husband near daily for our protagonist, Laurenm who has never had a husband before, let alone any of the husbands that descend from this magical attic. My favourite thing is the specific attributes that Gramazio lends each husband.
“I’ll weed your garden,’ one husband is always saying, turning innocent phrases into double entendres. She hates it. There’s no lustful intent, it’s just a constant drip of a not-joke. I’ll order your burrito. I’ll boil your eggs. I’ll take your ice cream out of the freezer.’ I’ll send you back into the attic, she thinks as she pulls the ladder down.
The next husband prods her and says citation needed whenever she says something he considers doubtful.
The next husband doesn’t like it when she reads, will lean over and get between the book and her face, looking earnestly into her eyes, ‘I can be your book, all you need is me.’…
One husband texts her updates on his bowel movements, big one this morning fucking hell.
One husband carries empty cups using his mouth, placing the cup over his mouth in its entirety, using suction to keep it in place, which stresses her out no end.”
It’s clever and silly and funny and wildly imaginative and I bloody loved it. I read it just after I read The Ministry of Time and it felt like a lighter, less complex version: time-travelling without the angst.
The gentlest read of the bunch is Welcome To Glorious Tuga by Francesca Segal, which has been endorsed by publishing greats such as Marian Keyes and Nick Hornby. I love a tough read, a combative read, something that stretches and confuses and excavates me. But sometimes - and I think David Nicholls’ new one is also good for this - I want something uplifting and life-affirming and gentle. That bristles a bit, but doesn’t scour. It’s why I re-read Jill Mansells when I’m feeling vulnerable. For anyone feeling a bit battered by life, this novel is the tonic.
When British vet Charlotte Walker decides to take a months-long ferry to the tiny island of Tuga del Oro to study their tortoises, she has no idea of the people she’s going to meet: the stalwarts who form the backbone of this tiny, hardscrabble, tropical island; the returning Tugans who struggle to remember the island’s protective, idiosyncratic ways; the Tugans who will never take a step off the island, who have long forgotten their ambition, who think only of survival. Ostensibly, Charlotte is there for the animals: secretly, she’s there to find her father, who she’s convinced is a prominent Tugan.
It’s a book to escape into (who doesn’t want to be on a tropical island?) but it’s also a book about community. About how vital it is on a tiny island, but how it can also - when it calcifies, over years and years - resist change, when change is desperately needed for some of its citizens. You can tell Segal had a joyful time writing it: she creates an entire culture and language (drinks are called ‘fizzycan’, tea is ‘saloop’) and her descriptions of the island and its inhabitants are elegantly written, lush and vivid. I think my mum would love it.
I gulped down all 3 episodes of Netflix’s docuseries about the Ashley Madison hack without even a loo break. It recounts the story of the massive 2015 hack of the Canadian website for extramarital affairs, where anonymous morality hacker “The Impact Team” leaked the names of 2,500 people who had signed up to the website, some of whom were famous. It is both an entertaining romp and a deeply uneasy watch.
The former quality was provided by Ashley Madison VP Evan Back, whose vulgar Freddie Miles-esque energy transmutes into something softer, sager, and more thoughtful, once it becomes apparent that the company was ridden with lies and security breaches. It turns out that Back’s been in a monogamous gay relationship for 23 years, whilst his holier-than-thou CEO and best friend Noel Biderman (who used his own wife as the postergirl for the website, pulling her onto endless chat shows, whilst claiming he never cheated) was implicated in the leak for employing sex workers. The message, if there is one, is that appearances are usually deceitful.
The latter uneasiness came via some of the affected couples. There’s a particularly moving storyline with a pastor’s wife who died by suicide after his name was leaked, and a queasy one with Christian vlogging couple Nia and Sam, who I felt sorry for right up until I realised that they are using the documentary to flog their memoir about Sam’s cheating. “Nia has forgiven me, God has forgiven me, and I have been completely cleansed of this sin” he says smoothly.
The website, you might be surprised to hear, continues to run.
A hefty nostalgia hit via this NY Mag profile of Chad Michael Murray, who was - for any non-millennials - the heartthrob of the age, starring in Dawson’s Creek, Gilmore Girls and One Tree Hill. What a triptych. In this interview he remains a) fit and b) earnest, and if you really want the skinny, there’s a particularly spicy comment about his dating antics at the time, underneath.
Shocked/ not shocked to read that the author of the The Idea of You (recently turned into a film starring Anne Hathaway as the, um, ‘older lady’) wrote her wildly successful novel after six years of trying to unsuccessfully sell a black romance. Robinne Lee told Refinery29:
“I spent six years writing a book prior to writing this book. Right before The Idea of You [I wrote a book] that I could not sell. It was a Black protagonist. There was a white love interest. And one of the responses I got from an editor at that time was, “Oh, well, no, we already have an interracial relationship that we're putting out this year.”
This, incidentally, on why The Idea of You is not fanfic (the film was largely perceived to be about Harry Styles and Olivia Wilde) is also a good read.
For anyone keen to learn more about pronatalism (namely, if there any credence to their fertility economics) I recommend this episode of The News Agents podcast, where Emily Maitlis begins by stating, “you don’t have to be on the hard right to know that the population is plummeting.” Britain’s 2.6 kids is now an average 1.5. So is this by choice, or by force of hand?
As guest Robert Colville points out, “[the UK] has created a system that is almost uniquely disadvantageous to having kids”, where “childcare is crippling, support for families is nil” and we are 4 million houses down on the European average.
“A lot of people who speak like this sound like they’re from the 1950s… lots of people don’t want kids and that’s fine. No one is going to say that you should breed for Britain. But in this country, people are having 1 child were than they hope to or want to.”
A short but fascinating segment.
Ending on a few travel highlights for you. I spend a lot of time in Folkestone, because my beloved godmother lives there, and I wanted to tell you about two of my favourite places to visit if you happen to find yourself by the seaside.
Firstly, Steep Street, the only place I have ever been to that offers 3 sizes of flat white (the largest has four shots of espresso in it), the best cake I’ve ever eaten and a stunning - stunning! - salad made up of crispy chickpeas. I told them they need to make a recipe book, stat. I wrote most of Unreal in this cafe, and about a third of my book, so it holds a lot of memories. The floor-to-ceiling book shelves are a lovely touch and the service is the best I have ever come across in the cafe. Not a single unfriendly person there - and I’ve been a lot. I wish I could go more often.
I also visited The Potting Shed, a delightful wine and nibbles bar out front and a speakeasy at the back (you need a password to get through!) where the cocktails were extremely strong and extremely good. I’ve seen it before, but it’s recent egg-yolke makeover drew me in to try it out. I’m so glad I did.
I’ll see you on Friday for a list of 10 little life enhancers. Not not The List, but not just about shopping.
Hi Pandora! I love your book recommendations and had an idea recently for a themed roundup I thought I’d share - I just read Claire Lombardo’s newest novel, Same As It Ever Was, and adored it (I’m American so not sure when it’s out in the UK but I know her last book was a big hit so hopefully soon!). I thought it was particularly lovely on long-term marriage, and it got me thinking about other books on this subject (I am getting married myself in October, so to be fair it’s on my mind already!). I would love to see a roundup of your favorite books on the subject, or even just a short list if you’re at all intrigued.
Thank you for the Folkestone recommendation, Pandora. I was on the lookout for a nice seaside town not too far away from London that is not Brighton and that has a nice Hotel. Found it now :)