My top ten reads of 2020

Heyo lovely people! I might have a gargantuan pressure headache at present, but seeing as this blistering year is FINALLY about to end, I’m feeling celebratory. In one hand, I have tea, the other, one of the mini pavlovas I made last night. I’m getting there. Slowly.

So, as the title proclaims, I’m gonna go over my favourite reads of the ninety-seven years of this year. I had thirty-seven to choose from, though in going through, I have decided to discount re-reads. Perhaps for me, the biggest brain point I encountered was in realising some books desperately deserve reviews, a few of whom are on this very list, but are yet to be celebrated or discussed. For such titles, that will be a next-year endeavour of mine. But before we get with the crackalacking…

What I’m Reading: At least fifteen titles due to indecisiveness, but we’ll go with Peter Pan (J.M. Barrie)

What I’m Watching: Shameless (Showtime)

What I’m Playing: Final Fantasy XV (PlayStation 4)

And with that, I will preface by saying that I read many excellent titles this year. There were few I didn’t especially enjoy, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy for one, but where the year has sucked (I mean, this time last year, here ye Canberra had the worst air quality in the entire world, which was fun), the literature doth soar. Number ten!

10. Uzumaki (Junji Ito, VIZ Media) — Standalone

I first read another of Junji Ito’s larger works, Gyo back in 2018. I don’t remember much of it, but I must have quite enjoyed it at the time based upon my four-star rating of the title. That being said, I had been eyeing Uzumaki for some time. Occasionally floating about my local bookshops, taunting me, I had to wait until I could afford splurging on the more expensive title. Pricey? Yes. Worth every cent? Holy macaroli.

I downed this monster in the span of an afternoon, consumed by the rich and masterful art and the intense, horrifying storytelling Ito provides. The intense part was awe-inspiring, seeing as I did not see one tent in any of Uzumaki — nor was I in one whilst reading. I loved every inch of this story, of the shorter pieces all showing different facets of one town consumed by, you guessed it — spirals! Wait, what?

That might not seem a terrifying concept, but I promise you — you’ll be clutching your ears as you navigate these waters. Gripping, wields the page-turn concept like a fricketing machete, and equal parts creepy and scary.

9. The Ember Quartet (Sabaa Tahir, HarperVoyager) — The Ember Quartet

My review of this four-part series can be found right over here.

Okay, so two numbers in and I’m already cheating. That being said, when I recollect this story, the closest I see to it being separate entities is book one, books two-four. But what a duology! This series sings clearest with its characters, but its soft magic is equally fantastic. While it’s not a 10/10 world-building instance (quick pause, I feel I spell world-building differently every time, depending on the day, the weather, and if I have enjoyed some ice cream or not), it’s still decently structured.

I have a lot of love for The Ember Quartet. Though a slow-ish start in the first odd hundred pages, and an unfortunate gap in which I did not possess a copy of A Torch Against the Night — meaning I had to wait roughly a month before I was back at the story again, RIP me — the characters and their stories had me utterly immersed. There’s also the case of the Commandant, the secondary-but-far-better-antagonist who had my blood boiling and my throat mimicking pterodactyl sounds like there was no tomorrow. No punches pulled — seriously, these books are flamberingly brutal oftentimes — but otherwise a prime YA fantasy recommendation. If you’re perusing for a YA cruising and a bruising, look no further.

8. Once & Future (A.R. Capetta and Cory McCarthy, Rock the Boat) — Once & Future, #1

For my degree, one of my units was a major manuscript project. Part of that project was reading multiple relevant texts (preferably from this century, to see just what’s hip these days), and one such title was Once & Future. I had meant to explore this title for a while, and blessedly, this little nudge allowed me to enjoy one of the most refreshing and enjoyable Arthurian retellings I’ve encountered in some time. Perhaps one of its most refreshing aspects is something I strive for in my writing: gender and sexual orientation being no big deal. Male, female, non-binary, Once & Future carries a wide array, not for any plot points, but because no one cares. I mean that in the best possible way, where people are free to be and love who they want without fear of retaliation or judgement. AKA, exactly as it should be. The closest they come to addressing this is through Merlin, who is rather interesting in his own right, who comes from a time akin to ours and has to navigate more accepting waters. In place of that, the authors tackle race and racism considerably well, confronting the subject tactfully and elegantly.

On the Arthurian front, though I’m not a fan of Lancelot, or Morgana being repeatedly made out the bad guy — #Morganadeservesbetter — Capetta and McCarthy’s understanding of the characters allowed them to break other traditional moulds, both playing to and against the well-known narrative. Though I haven’t read book two yet, I am eager to close out this duology. All in all, the characters are fantastically charming and likeable, the story feels largely Arthurian whilst taking it in new directions, and the freedom for characters to be is unfathomably refreshing. Worth it.

7. Bone Crier’s Moon (Kathryn Purdie, Katherine Tegen Books) — Bone Grace, #1

I have heard so little about this in any of my online book groups, and to call that a small tragedy is to call the Pacific Ocean a filled bathtub. I adored this gem, one of the good things to come of 2020. The first instalment of a duology, I honestly don’t know where to begin here. Worldbuilding, characters, magic system, story, pacing, Bone Crier’s Moon ticks all the boxes. Not to mention that cover! That may just be one of Charlie Bowater’s better pieces if I do say so myself. Then again, this novel pulled some wicked trickery on me. See, any book that features a character named Bastion (or Bastien, as is the main male character of this novel) is one I’m guaranteed to love. I love that name. Sorcery! Witchcraft!

All jokes aside (for this paragra—), though it leans closer to a more traditional YA fantasy plot-wise, in that you probably won’t be finding yourselves in the shocks of your life where the twists are concerned, it sees the common narrative and makes it compelling, swoon-worthy, and genuinely lovable where the characters are concerned. A fantastic book through-and-through, and I can’t wait for March 30th when book two, Bone Crier’s Dawn launches itself into the world — and my bookshelf.

6. A House of Earth and Blood (Sarah J. Maas, Bloomsbury) — Crescent City, #1

December 2024 me here! I am amending my description as, while it ranked in my top reads of the year, I no longer wish to associate my public platform with Sarah J. Maas. Her refusal to improve her cultural literacy and her Zionism is more than reason enough for me to want nothing further to do with her books. She is skilled at the type of writing that gets you turning the page, the type that gets you sucked into the story, but I cannot in good conscience recommend someone who, in my opinion, doesn’t give a shit about actually being a better writer from a representation standpoint. So… yeah. That’s all I have to say on the matter. Moving onto better things!

5. Dark Matter (Blake Crouch, Macmillan) — Standalone

So, my favourite brand of horror is a tie between existential and psychological. Nothing in the world terrifies me more than the idea that there are an infinite number of me’s roaming about in alternate universes. It’s part of my unresolved solipsism crisis I have going on, first triggered by watching The Truman Show in philosophy for year eleven. That’s a me problem I fully accept and repress, but this book was a two-day-binge. We’re in the five-star titles now, and Dark Matter deserves it five times over. With reality in question from the get-go, I spent the time basically with one hand over my eyes and the other furiously flicking through the pages.

The pacing is fast but not at the expense of story or plot, the characters — though not the most likable, I could empathise with them. The story is, as you may have guessed, flipping terrifying. I suppose whether you find this story scary or not is whether you too are experiencing one of those existential crises or not. Pesky little things.

Anyway, I shan’t think too long on this one, I still have the other four books to write upon. Go read Dark Matter, does recommend.

4. Requiem for a Dream (Hubert Selby, Jr., Penguin Modern Classics) — Standalone

Speaking of psychological horror. You may have heard of the 2000 film by Darren Aronofsky, which often finds itself upon lists for ‘Films you can’t watch twice’. And honestly, I don’t get it. I’d sooner put American Psycho on that list, because FRACK that ATM scene. I watch the adaptation of this novel semi-regularly, as I have for a couple of years now. I think it was a short time after first encountering the film that I discovered it was based on a book, and it was this past July that I finally knuckled down and turned to page one.

There are three things you need to know going into this book. The first is that this book was written by a white man in his 50s in the 1970s, and as a result, there’s a lot that is dated here. It’s a product of its time, and as a result, it needs to be read as such; I’m referring to the discrimination found here, not overt enough to distract but interlaced into the general tone of the characters. Like how one looks at Pride and Prejudice and says, “The drama here would never happen today, it’s a product of its time”, the views of an older man in the ‘70s needs the same set of separational glasses. The second is that when I first started reading Requiem for a Dream, Selby, Jr.’s writing style nearly gave me a stroke.

I firstly stared at the spine. It’s 229 pages, so I cracked my knuckles and thought, “Yaas, a nice, brutal afternoon read.” And yet, we have sixty-page chapters (only the one, thankfully), six-page paragraphs with so many people talking in the one. At first glance, it reads a grave flurry of mortal literary sins. It quickly became an instance of ‘read minimum one chapter a day’, which is my go-to method when I need to read something or dive into something heavier (a method I highly recommend). For that sixty-page chapter, a couple of days is perfectly acceptable for conquering. You’ll struggle at first, and you’ll grieve the sheer lack of commas, but…

The third thing you need to know. This book is incredible. Once you fall into the novel’s rhythm, you ride along as four different people try to rise — and ultimately fall before the destructive beast that is drug addiction. The book is everything the film is and more (speaking of the film, upon reading the book, I can confirm the movie is the single best adaptation I’ve ever encountered in my life — holy moly). I recommend reading with the film’s score playing in the background.

I’m going to stop here, because I am desperate to review this titan, but to say this is a must-read (again, with those separational glasses firmly on) is to understate its value immensely. Tragic, masterfully written, can 1000% understand why Aronofsky tackled it.

3. Crystal Caged (Elise Kova, Silver Wing Press) — Air Awakens: Vortex Chronicles, #5

Ooh, boyo. Deciding whether or not to place this at third or second place was immensely difficult. Ultimately, the penultimate best book won out, but that does not discount the masterclass that is Crystal Caged. The final instalment in the sequel series of her best claim to fame, the Air Awakens series, the sheer worldbuilding and story-founding are immense. Throw in time-travel and multiple complex magic systems, and a plot that would have plummeted and failed spectacularly in most authors' hands.

Honestly, I’m still in shock that Elise Kova pulled it off. I don’t know how, but this is one of the most satisfying series conclusions I’ve ever encountered. The series kept rising in quality with every instalment, always somehow better than the original series, but Crystal Caged is genuinely in a tier all its own. I can only say so much before I’m in spoiler territory, given that this book is ten books into its world (thirteen if you count the prequel series, the Golden Guard trilogy), but I will say this:

Looking for a fantasy series with compelling characters, a thrilling pace that doesn’t let up in any of the related books, multiple magic systems, and an expansive world? Or perhaps I’ll say this: read the Air Awakens series, read the Golden Guard trilogy if you’re keen, but read the Vortex Chronicles — if only to read this final instalment. Holy shit, lovely people.

2. The Last Balfour (Cait Duggan, HarperCollins) — Standalone

Interested in reading a review where I still remember finer details (blame my pressure headaches, I always do)? Check here!

As I inferred with absolutely no bitterness just above, I don’t remember a lot about the finer details to Cait Duggan’s debut. I actually had to read through my own review to remember semi-important things like plot, and character names, things like that. Some of you might then be asking, “If you remember so little of it, why is it second-highest in your list?”

To which, lovely person wherever you are, I say: I remember one thing about this book. See, originally, for such absent-memoried reasons, I had this at number #5. It was a five-star book and so it went into the top five, but as I stared at it, something deep in my soul knew it didn’t look right so far down. And so it crept to third. And then, even as late as structuring this list, I did a last-minute swapsies. The reason for that is that for better or worse, this book is pure magic. If you could contain magic in any corporeal, definitive form, it would be The Last Balfour. Warm, rich, intense, just a little bit ethereal… I took one look at this book cover and I had a real hunger to read it again. There’s no hardback edition of this novel, but if there was, I’d do all I could to find one and get it signed. Occasionally, I peruse Duggan’s Goodreads page to see if any new novels have been announced (none yet, cue the sadness).

There is only one book that has left a stronger, richer, more beautiful aftertaste this year than The Last Balfour (I wonder what book that might be?). A story of young heroism and empowerment in the face of seemingly unstoppable odds, the day I stop recommending this book is the day I’ve finally lost the plot. And honestly, I’ll be senile and probably still sending you links for where to purchase a copy.

So, before we dive into my top pick for number one, I feel a need to celebrate the books that didn’t quite reach this fantabulous top ten. And so below, I shall share all their covers below!

And with that, number one.

1. The Song of Achilles (Madeline Miller, Bloomsbury Classics) — Standalone

You can read my review here for 6% of my overall tears and emotional breakdowns attributed to this book.

I’m not going to lie, I’m still not okay roughly a month following my last readthrough of The Song of Achilles. I still get dealt 9001 emotional damage every time I open my laptop and see my ‘What has Hector ever done to me?’ sticker. That being said, with some more removal from the novel, I feel like I can talk about it more constructively.

So, this book. While I have come to accept that I will never write anything on this level, I am somewhat comforted by the fact. From here on out, I will aim for slightly above absolute shit, which I think is a terrific standard to aim for. That way, I’m seldom disappointed! The characters, the poetry that is the masterful writing, the story-work, the plot, the emotional crippling this book deals upon its readers (I imagine it running around wielding a mallet, Annie Wilkes style for anyone not yet emotionally distraught enough). Of course, I mean this all in a good way. It’s a beautiful love story between two young men. I saw it best put as being a story about soft gays with a tragic ending, and honestly, that’s about as accurate a summary as is possible.

Looking for some catharsis? Look no further. Need a good reason to binge the remnants of Christmas/holiday foods? Genuinely, this book could not be more perfect for that if one tried.

And with that, I think we’ll wrap this shindig up here! We won’t see one another until next year, and I mean no disrespect to you, lovely people, but thank the Gods. The year has been almost entirely craptastic, the Mandalorian’s done for the season (I’m not okay with what happened there, either), but hey, at least the country’s not on fire!

Not literally, at least. I would recommend ducking into your local Woolworths, fellow Aussies, and buying one of those ‘Good Riddance, 2020’ piñatas they have on sale. Fill it with your hearts’ contents, and beat the year out of existence with all your pent-up rage induced by one of the worst decade intros the universe has had to offer. Stay awesome, lovely people, and stay safe.

—Charis.