Finished reading Golden Hill by Francis Spufford. Set in 1746 New York, it felt Austinesque like the best Aubrey/Maturin stories, though without the nautical adventure. It started out as a fun romp; by the end it became something else, very satisfying but more melancholy. It’s early in the year, but I bet this will be one of my favorite books.
Speaking of reading, I started Elric of Melniboné by Michael Moorcock at the end of the year, but set it aside and am probably not returning to it any time soon. It’s part of a collection of Elric stories in order of fictional chronology, and I think this didn’t do the collection any favors: The first part (“Elric of Melniboné”) was pretty good, but I could not get interested in the next (“The Fortress of the Pearl”). In the third (“The Sailor on the Seas of Fate” — a badass title), Moorcock brings together several protagonists from his other stories, and seems to expect that I have read about and care about those protagonists, and then they smash together and become Voltron or something?, and I just had to put it down. I like the idea of Elric, but could not enjoy these stories.
Finished reading The Old Ways by Robert Macfarlane. This is a rambling look at walking, paths, and sailing, and is also (unexpectedly) a little biography of Edward Thomas. I lost momentum about three quarters of the way through, but managed to recover and finish. Maybe I would have preferred the book to be a little shorter, but on the other hand it resonated with me enough that I bought a copy to have on hand when the library loan ends.
Finished reading Children of Time by Adrian Tchaikovsky. What if you meant to uplift other primates to sentience, but accidentally got spiders instead? About monomania and resilience, and empathy.
Finished reading Blitz by Daniel O’Malley. I didn’t think I was in the mood for the occasional bits of zaniness, but I think they lightened the story enough to keep it from collapsing in self-seriousness. Slow to start but quick to finish.