Matt's Books and Music

So, I’m happy to introduce my third annual Bookish Superlatives, highlighting books that excelled in different specific categories, but which may not have reached my top reads of the year. Today’s superlatives will focus on readerly expectation, media, and style. Tomorrow’s will focus on genres, audiences, and communities. (For previous years: 2022, 2023)

Because part of the point of this exercise is to spread the bookish love around, I may not award or even mention a book in every category to which it belongs. So if you’d prefer, you can think of these as ‘Special Achievements’ in each category.

Reputation

Best ‘Classic’ (written before 1975)

A Jest of God, by Margaret Laurence (1966 🇨🇦)

I try every year to read classics, a term that speaks both to age (I’ve generally heard 50 years as the cut-off) and place in the literary canon. I have to admit that most classics end up being 3.5-to-4-star reads for me: They’re good but rarely get me excited. This year the one I enjoyed the most was Margaret Laurence’s Canadian classic, A Jest of God. It was one of my first reads of the year and is a perfect piece of character-driven literary fiction. It deals with topics of social anxiety and self-consciousness with empathy, but never shies away from just how insufferable those traits are for those not struggling with them. For those of us who can relate, it’s a wonderful ‘mirror’ book.

Honorable mentions: The Death of Ivan Illych (Leo Tolstoy), A Single Man (Christopher Isherwood), Our Spoons Came from Woolworths (Barbara Comyns), Finistère (Fritz Peters)

Best Backlist Title (written 1975-2020)

The Art of Fielding, by Chad Harbach (2011)

As much as I love keeping up to date with the latest releases, it’s important for me as a reader to get off that treadmill and read the wonderful books released in past years too. (My personal, completely arbitrary cut-off for ‘backlist’ is anything from more than three years before the current year.) My favourite backlist read of the year was Chad Harbach’s wonderful The Art of Fielding, which has literally been on my to-be-read list since its publication thirteen years ago. This story about the goings-on surrounding the baseball team of a small Wisconsin liberal arts college may just be the ‘perfect novel’, from start to finish. The sentence-level writing is gorgeous, the characters and relationships vivid and realistic, the character journeys earned, the plotting tight, and the themes expansive and universal, while remaining deeply personal. Really, the only thing I can honestly criticize it for is maybe being a bit too well-written. And if that’s the worst I can say about it, that’s pretty great.

Honourable mentions: You Went Away (Timothy Findley 🇨🇦), Elena Knows (Claudia Piñeiro), Hannah Coulter (Wendell Berry), Alias Grace (Margaret Atwood 🇨🇦), The Name of the Rose (Umberto Eco)

Best Debut

The Other Valley, by Scott Alexander Howard ( 2024 🇨🇦)

This is a bit of a muddy category for me. On the surface it should simply be my favourite book by a debut author, but today I’m going to award it to the debut novel that got me most excited by the literary potential of the author, which isn’t quite the same thing. Scott Alexander Howard’s The Other Valley, about a village bordered on the East and West by its own past and future, is a piece of speculative fiction that was so fascinating, unique, and probing that I can’t help but be excited for what comes next from him. It reminded me of Kazuo Ishiguro at his best, and for me that’s saying a lot!

Honourable mentions: Ours (Philip B. Williams), Greta & Valdin (Rebecca K. Reilly), Glorious Exploits (Ferdia Lennon), What I Know about You (Éric Chacour 🇨🇦)

Best Sequel

A Closed and Common Orbit, by Becky Chambers (2016)

It’s one thing to start a series well, it’s quite another to keep it going. This wasn’t a particularly deep category for me this year, but A Closed and Common Orbit, the second book in Becky Chambers’ Wayfarers series (see below for more), is a great example of a sequel that builds off the first book but also excels in doing its own thing. This story about an artificial intelligence that finds itself in a humanoid body after years controlling the functions of a spaceship is indisputably one of the best science fiction books I’ve ever read. And with the rapid advances in AI technology over the past eight years since this was published, the ethical themes it engages with are all the more relevant and compelling. This is an absolutely brilliant piece of science fiction.

Honorable mentions: A Jest of God (Margaret Laurence 🇨🇦), The Hanged Man of Saint-Pholien (Georges Simenon), A World of Curiosities (Louise Penny 🇨🇦)

Best Series

Wayfarers by Becky Chambers (2014-2021, first book: The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet)

I sang the praises of the second book in this series in the previous entry, but the whole series of four loosely connected novels is brilliant. This is science fiction that explores complex philosophical ideas, such as cross-cultural communication, artificial intelligence, existential ennui, and peacemaking, in an accessible and moving way. Considering her second series, Monk and Robot, is another of my all-time favourites, Chambers has absolutely become an auto-read author for me.

Honorable mentions:

Chief Inspector Armand Gamache, by Louise Penny (2005-present, first book: Still Life (2005), Tinkered Stars, by Gail Carriger (2022-23, first book: Divinity 36)

Readerly Expectations

Most Disappointing

The Grey Wolf, by Louise Penny (2024 🇨🇦)

In order to be ‘disappointing’, expectations have to be set pretty high. So a ‘disappointing’ book is not necessarily a bad one. It’s simply a question of whether my expectations were met. And sadly the biggest book that comes to mind is the latest release in Louise Penny’s Chief Inspector Armand Gamache series. It’s a very good popcorn thriller, but lacks so much of what makes this series so special. The plotting is uncharacteristically weak, the characters are sent on wild goose chases, and most egregiously, our beloved inspector is actively bad at his job, being blinded by prejudice, and jumping to wild conclusions on slim evidence. The book ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, so I do wonder if all this is intentional and there will be a reckoning of some kind in the next book that will make this book’s weaknesses make sense. But as it is, this was a fun read that missed the mark completely.

Honourable mentions: Riot Baby (Tochi Onyebuchi), Raiders of the Lost Heart (Jo Segura), Held (Anne Michaels 🇨🇦)

Least Living up to the Hype

The Dallergut Dream Department Store, by Miye Lee (2020, transl. 2024)

This category has less to do with my expectations than it does with the hype machine. This is for books that were everywhere on social media but, after reading them, I couldn’t figure out why that was. Since this book was first published a few years ago, I’d heard nothing but great things about it from readers around the world, so I was excited to discover it was finally being released in English. But boy did this fall flat for me. It’s a charming enough book, but I never actually figured out whether it was supposed to be a novel or a book of loosely connected short stories revolving around the main character and her job. Nothing really paid off or had consequences. There was no real plot. There didn’t seem to really be any character development either. So, in the end this just felt like literary cotton candy that left me with a tummy ache.

Honourable mentions: Held (Anne Michaels 🇨🇦), Happily Ever Ninja (Penny Reid)

Most Living up to the Hype

The God of the Woods, by Liz Moore (2024)

On the flip side, sometimes getting caught up in the hype is very rewarding. Liz Moore’s The God of the Woods was everywhere on my social media, far and away the biggest book of the Summer (at least as my algorithm was telling me!). And wow did it ever deliver! This matches the tight plotting and pacing of thrillers with the the strong writing and characterization of literary fiction. And in the end, the pieces of the plot fit together perfectly. This was a huge win for both me and the hype machine.

Honourable mentions: The Other Valley (Scott Alexander Howard 🇨🇦), Martyr! (Kaveh Akbar), James (Percival Everett), Not All Himbos Wear Capes (C. Rochelle)

Most Surprising

Three O’Clock in the Morning, by Gianrico Carofiglio (2017, trans. 2021)

This superlative goes to a book that far exceeded my expectations. I had a few stand-outs in this department this year, but probably the biggest was Three O’Clock in the Morning, by Italian politician Gianrico Carofiglio. I expected it to be a gentle and thoughtful novella about a teenage boy and his father getting to know each other. And it definitely was that. But I didn’t expect it to be as tightly plotted or as impactful as it was. It was a great example of the power and possibility of the novella as a literary form, and made me wish the English-language publishing industry wasn’t so focused on 250-400-page books that lend themselves to mushy middles.

Honourable mentions: The Alternatives (Caolinn Hughes), Greta & Valdin (Rebecca K. Reilly), The Polger-Ghost Problem (Betsy Uhrig)

Best Under the Radar Title

Malagash, by Joey Comeau (2017 🇨🇦)

This category is for books that nobody was talking about but which deserved much better from the industry and bookish community. Joey Comeau’s Malagash was not a book I’d heard of until it fell into my lap. It’s short, but packs a huge punch, offering one of the most unique reflections on grief and loss I’ve ever encountered. It definitely deserves to be read and loved by so many more readers.

Honourable mentions: Picture Us in the Light (Kelly Loy Gilbert), Bird Summons (Leila Aboulela), Three O’Clock in the Morning (Gianrico Carofiglio)

Book about which My Opinion Has Changed the Most

Henry Henry, by Allen Bratton (2024)

This is a new category this year, but I wanted a place to acknowledge a book that I didn’t like while reading, but have come around to in the months since. That is Allen Bratton’s Henry Henry, which I read as an ARC early in the year. I was so frustrated by the main character and so truly disturbed by some of the plot elements that I hated reading this, even though I could tell it was extraordinarily well-written. I almost quit on it several times, and at other times was hate-reading it. But, now that the visceral feelings have passed, the more impressed I am, not only in just how effective the author was at drawing out those feelings in the first place, but also by how well those plot elements fit into the book’s themes. I may not have enjoyed the experience of reading it, but I’m now very glad to have read it.

Honourable mentions: Orbital (Samantha Harvey), A Single Man (Christiopher Isherwood)

Media & Writing Style

Best Narrative Voice

Glorious Exploits, by Ferdia Lennon (2024)

There’s nothing I love more in a book than a vivid point-of-view character and I was blessed this year with some fantastic ones. Really, any of the ‘honourable mentions’ could easily have taken this. But the narrative voice I simply cannot forget is Lampo, the protagonist from Ferdia Lennon’s unexpected triumph, Glorious Exploits. An unemployed, and often drunken, potter in ancient Syracuse, Lampo is boorish but well-meaning and ultimately kind-hearted, and manages to come across as charming despite (and maybe even because of) his many flaws. He’s an amazing literary creation I won’t soon forget, and I absolutely adored hearing this story from his perspective.

Honourable mentions: A Natural History of Dragons (Marie Brennan), Excavations (Kate Myers), Say Hello to My Little Friend (Jenine Capó Crucet), Straight from the Horse’s Mouth (Meryam Alaoui), The Eyes & the Impossible (Dave Eggers), Good Material (Dolly Alderton)

Best Audiobook Narration

Glorious Exploits, by Ferdia Lennon (2024), read by Ferdia Lennon

It’s rare for an audiobook performance to elevate the material — more often than not, if I notice the performance, it’s because it’s distracting me from the author’s work, rather than enhancing it. So I love to highlight and uphold those that stand out because they perfectly capture what the author is doing. At the risk of being boring, I couldn’t help but award this, once again, to Ferdia Lennon’s Glorious Exploits, which was performed by the author himself. The conceit of the novel is that, although set in ancient Sicily, it’s told using the patter of Irish storytelling. Lennon more than fits the bill for this aspect, but also gives his performance of Lampo a boyish excitement, positivity, and naivete that makes him all the more charming. Every choice he makes in this performance works and I can’t imagine taking the story in without it.

Honourable mentions: Ours (Phillip B. Williams, read by Joniece Abbott-Pratt), The Eyes & the Impossible (Dave Eggers, read by Ethan Hawke), Dayspring (Anthony Oliveira, read by multiple voice actors), Good Material (Dolly Alderton, read by Arthur Darvill)

Best Graphic Novel or Comic

Something Is Killing the Children (Vols 1-3) written by James Tynion IV and illustrated by Werther Dell’Edera (2020)

This wasn’t a good year for me for literature in graphic formats, but one that stood out was Something Is Killing the Children. I read the first three volumes, which create a complete story arc within the larger series, and thoroughly enjoyed them. The story felt like a perfect combination of expected horror tropes and unique ideas, and the illustrations were beautifully creepy.

Honourable mentions: Out of Left Field (Jonah Newman), Kerry and the Knight of the Forest (Andi Watson), Washington’s Gay General (Josh Trujillo)

Funniest Book

Good Material, by Dolly Alderton (2024)

Humour is hard to do well in fiction, but there are few things that for me can better set a book apart as something really special. Drama is easy to do; drama that’s leavened by a strong comedic element, that’s impressive! In this category I have to champion Dolly Alderton’s latest release, Good Material. Through most of the novel, we’re in the point of view of a struggling stand-up comedian who falls apart at the seams in the aftermath of an unexpected break-up. It’s moving, relatable, and insightful. But it’s also at times really funny. And the humour undercuts what could otherwise come across as a bit melodramatic events or reactions. Not only is this good humour, but it’s humour done to great effect.

Honourable mentions: Glorious Exploits (Ferdia Lennon), Greta & Valdin (Rebecca K. Reilly), The Polter-Ghost Problem (Betsy Uhrig), Interesting Facts about Space (Emily Austin), High Spirits (Robertson Davies)

Best Sense of Time and Place

Cahokia Jazz, by Francis Spufford (2023)

I love a book with a rich setting. And this year no one did that better than Francis Spufford in his truly remarkable Cahokia Jazz. This is a book that relies heavily on atmosphere and setting, a jazz-age noir detective novel set in an alternate history United States where Cahokia (a major Indigenous archaeological site near what is now St. Louis) remained a vital metropolis and offered a fascinating — and, to some, threatening — alternative to the Black and White dynamic of American society. While the book itself hasn’t stayed with me as much as I’d have thought as I was reading it, its memorable setting certainly has, from its smoky nightclubs and dark streets, to its gleaming temples and art deco office towers.

Honourable mentions: This Strange Eventful History (Claire Massud), Three O’Clock in the Morning (Gianrico Carofiglio), Straight from the Horse’s Mouth (Meryam Alaoui), Hannah Coulter (Wendell Berry), West Heart Kill (Dann McDoman), A Maigret Christmas (Georges Simenon)

Best Book in Translation

What I Know about You, by Éric Chacour (2023 🇨🇦), translated by Pablo Strauss (2024)

One of my favourite things about my 2024 reading year was how many works in translation I managed to read. (This isn’t easy — a shockingly small number of novels from around the world get translated into English!) Éric Chacour’s What I Know about You, originally published last year in French, is a beautiful and intimate story of loss and longing. It also employs the most effective use of second-person narration I’ve encountered in a long time. This is a great gift to Canadian literature and I’m so glad we anglophones got to experience it.

Honourable mentions: Elena Knows (Claudia Piñeiro), Confessions (Kanae Minato), Straight from the Horse’s Mouth (Meryam Alaoui), Small Country (Gael Faye), Three O’Clock in the Morning (Gianrico Carofiglio)

Best Writing

Ours, by Philip B. Williams (2024)

This is one of those novels where the writing is the star of the show. There’s certainly magic and mystery, and plot and characterization too, but there is no doubt that the main attraction is the quality of the prose itself. As Williams is a poet, the term ‘prose’ is used loosely here, since each word seems to have been chosen with the precision and intentionality of poetry.

Honourable mentions: The Art of Fielding (Chad Harbach), Table for Two (Amor Towles), You Went Away (Timothy Findley), My Friends (Hisham Matar, Enlightenment (Sarah Perry), Stone Yard Devotional (Charlotte Wood)