As the days grow more suffocating with the rising heat and humidity in the Northern hemisphere, I find it harder to stick to my one constant resolution for the second year in a row: reading every single day. While summer people are enjoying the weather, I struggle with the concept of enjoyment altogether. Books feel less enchanting than they would in the cold dark hours of winter, as a notoriously irritable reader I become even more easily annoyed by the little things, and with the bright heat and light addling my brain, most every style of expression becomes a burden.
It is under such personally tormenting circumstances that I’ve found a literary shelter in a few of these books, whereas others were delightful discoveries I got to enjoy in better seasons, but would still be great picks as a beach read.
This last concept usually refers to light, commercially successful mass-market fiction that offers a one dimensional story written in a most easily digestible way. The story is just that, and while it can stir emotions, it has no further meaning beyond itself, and touches none of the heavier matters of life. But such books make an intolerable reading for me at the best of times – I couldn’t imagine trying to endure them under the stress summer readily causes.
Of my very few criteria for the perfect summertime books, the first and foremost intersects with this aforementioned idea of them: clarity of prose. Despite adoring dense, self-indulgent, disorientating prose, trying to understand it when my mental capacity is reduced by the heat feels like having a sunstroke. While I need the prose to feel easily digestible, it should never be devoid of literary qualities, such as style and depth. Finally, the book should have minimal flaws: its quality should not falter, it should never feel slapdash (if it has a focus on plot), its characters should not be annoying beyond some mild quirks. As such, these are books I practically find perfect or near-perfect, to whom this love letter of a list is addressed, and they’d make excellent options for those relishing winter in the Southern hemisphere too!
The Tunnel by Ernesto Sabato
This list had to start with an absolutely perfect book that embodies my idea of a summer
book to the fullest. The Tunnel is a murderer’s account of how he came to commit his
heinous femicide, following his prolonged abuse of his victim. In the character of his painter
protagonist, Sábato himself paints an excellent portrait of the pathological human mind, its
obsessions, its poison, and its horror. As if witnessing the culmination of a storm, the reading
is perpetually accompanied by the dread of the impending tragedy; yet the writing is so
beautiful, the imagery so impeccable, the conversational tone of its narration so sweeping,
The Tunnel is compulsively readable, impossible to break away and eventually move on
from.
I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman
There are books that simply cannot be enjoyed under certain circumstances, books
that
reveal their real potential under specific conditions; and then there are others, books so
urgent in their matter that they must be read at the soonest. I Who Have Never Known Men
falls under this latter category. Its portrayal as Sci-Fi (or speculative fiction) is a bit of a
disservice to what Harpman’s doing. Presenting it as genre fiction naturally creates
expectations for the plot – namely that its worldbuilding be complete, its questions be
answered. But I Who Have Never Known Men is an allegory, of Nazi concentration camps on
the micro scale, and of patriarchy on the macro. It is a book about what makes us human,
about the importance of the freedom to die, and it is so, so, so impactful.
Of Cattle and Men by Ana Paula Maia
Another book of utmost urgency, and yet another victim of false portrayal as genre fiction,
Of Cattle and Men is the perfect heir to its namesake. Its categorization as horror completely
disregards its thematic importance. Within the setting of the slaughterhouse, Maia parallels
the exploitation of cattle with that of the workers. As quasi-biblical plagues descend on the
slaughterhouse, the lines of the arbitrary separation between livestock and man, tied
together by the thread of banal violence, begin to blur. Of Cattle and Men is a harrowing,
stunning account about the victims of the industrial complex . . . and all of us are complicit;
and all of us are prey.
The Book of All Loves by Agustin Fernandez Mallo
My attraction to books that defy categorization almost feels fated, fate being an apt concept
for The Book of All Loves, a unique blend of fiction and essay. Granted, the better word in
this context is “destined” – destined, like the lovers to repopulate a blind world with love.
When put like this, it sounds terribly cheesy; yet The Book of All Loves is anything but. It’s
poetic, gradually mystical, and mesmerizing in its circularity, which is just one aspect of
quantum Mallo has weaved into the fabric of this magical pièce de resistance. When the
techno-capitalist world we know collapses, what will be its relics? what will it mean to be
human?
The Dialogue of Two Snails by Federico Garcia Lorca
Penguin’s mini books have an undeniable appeal, but are most often just bits taken from
their readily available books; The Dialogue of Two Snails, on the other hand, is a mighty
collection despite its miniature size, containing a variety of Lorca’s works, some of which
were previously unpublished. Plays, tales, poems and drawings abound, offering a
fascinating dive into Lorca’s oeuvre. They’re all tied by the beauty of Lorca’s skillful and
delicate pen, evocative and lyrical, at times darkly so. This is a truly special collection that
will leave its mark on you.
Agua Viva by Clarice Lispector
Feminine, mystical, melancholy, incantatory, feral, philosophical, self-mythologizing,
messianic, soft and melodic… all perfect descriptors for Lispector herself, and her
unmistakable voice. More a collection of reflections on existence, expression, and art than a
classical, linear narration, Água Viva is one of those books that redefine what literature is,
and what it can be, leaving you seeing language in a whole new light. Despite its low page
count, Água Viva takes ample time to read, as, urged on by a justified literary gluttony, you
return to the beginning of the fragment the second it’s over, over and over again, unable to
move on from any of them.
The Three Electroknights by Stanislaw Lem
A small collection of four delectable short stories taken from Mortal Engines, The Three
Electroknights touches on consciousness, hubris, totalitarianism, and colonization through
Lem’s artful, crystalline prose. He at times explores Christian themes, at times delves into philosophy, and has expressed the premise of his stories the best: “Science explains the
world, but only Art can reconcile us to it.” His work sits at the crossroads of Sci-Fi and art,
waiting to offer its readers an unmatched experience.
Anything by Claire Keegan
At the hands of a master, simplicity can be the most effective tool. In Keegan’s books, it is
certainly deceptive: it lends itself to consumption, but not to digestion. Her realist
storytelling is a breath of fresh air, disguising the emotional and social heaviness of the
matters she writes on. Both Small Things Like These and Foster are highly lauded books,
richly deserving of their praise, and leave the reader ruminating on their implications for a
long while. Foster would be a perfect match with readers who are especially keen on
symbolism, even when it’s employed few and far between.
Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller
In Miller’s own words, Tropic of Cancer is not a book, but a song that’s an insult to the values
held at the highest by society – and there’s no better description of it. While it certainly is
not prose poetry, Karl Shapiro calls “everything he has written […] a poem in the best as well
as in the broadest sense of the word.” This poetic quality that creates its own atmosphere
stems from the utter beauty of Miller’s unmatched style of expression, in which the
language flows like a torrent – violent but undeniably sweeping.
Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk
Few writers utilize the opportunities a first person narrator gives them, likely due to the
difficulty of creating a voice distinct from theirs and unique to a fictional being that lives only
as far as the writer permits, and even fewer can accomplish what Tokarczuk does with her
unreliable narrator here. This distinct, eccentric voice is what makes Drive Your Plow Over
the Bones of the Dead as gripping, entertaining, and cozy. It’s a murder mystery unlike
anything of its kind; an almost surreal tale of friendship and advocacy…
Ten Nights Dreaming by Natsume Soseki
Through ten evocative, melancholic, moving, symbolic gothic stories, Soseki paints a multi-
faceted picture of a Japan in crisis, where the waves of modernism batter the shores of
tradition, and a nation struggles with its changing identity. The feverish dreams that make
up Ten Nights Dreaming would be best experienced under the fleeting moonlight, slightly
dizzy, ready and willing to be carried away by their rip currents.
Mrs. Caliban by Rachel Ingalls
Yet another victim of horrible false categorization, Mrs. Caliban is in fact not an erotica by
any means, but a touching, moving tale of a housewife yearning to connect, to be
understood, to be happy, to escape from the traumas she’s holding onto. There is a
surprising depth to the majority of the book; however Ingalls takes a sudden exit to abandon
a potential additional layer to the meaning, and concludes the story in a most rushed way.
Though a bit disappointing, the brilliant narration permeating the book has an undeniable
charm that is bound to provide a fun and sentimental time.
Can’t and Won’t by Lydia Davis
Swamped with work in a frustratingly sticky, boiling autumn, a need for bite-size literature
rose in me. Davis, whose name seems to be synonymous with flash fiction, came highly
recommended – for good reason. While there were many misses for me in Can’t and Won’t,
it’s only natural to find as many flaws in a book that offers as many stories. And when
they’re hits, it’s a bullseye. Imbued with wit, humor, and emotion, these lovely stories are
bound to offer something for everyone’s taste!
The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa
I’m concluding this list with a book I personally have not read through, because I cannot bear
the thought of finishing it, then never again being able to discover its magic for the first time.
The Book of Disquiet indeed merits its spot in this limbo of adoration: Pessoa’s fragmentary
masterpiece is hard to define, hard to delimit, and utterly easy to fall head over heels in love
with – Pessoa’s voice is disarming and enchanting right away. You will find yourself returning
to its pages again and again, as if your soul is begging to go home…
Have you read any of these? Drop your comments on them below!
