Books Al Read In 2024

I wish I could say that I've read a ton of books last year. While I made an effort at certain points, I only finished reading nine titles. There were huge gaps in the year where I simply didn't make time for any reading. I could blame it on other priorities in life—work, college, travel. But the truth is that I haven't been good at making time for books, even though I know there are small spaces everywhere that can be easily filled with reading. It might behoove me to carry a paperback around more often, so I can squeeze in more reading when I'm waiting in a line, waiting for mail, waiting on a train, or idle in other places.

For what it's worth, I finished some meaty works, and I am knee-deep in other big books like Gone Girl and Stuart Gordon's autobiography. For 2025, I will make time to finish these books and get some more under my belt. For last year's handful of reads, here are my quick impressions about each one.

Fiction

Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. This is it: the granddaddy of all novels, which I always saw boasted as one of the all-time best classics. I figured that it'll be one of those books that everybody should be obliged to read just by nature of its classic status. But it is a few hundred years old, and for a guy like me who's more enamored by pulpy, snappy fiction, the old-fashioned grandstanding dialogue gets old pretty fast. For a satire, I can appreciate the story's point to tear down and roast the romanticization of chivalric fantasy, but it rarely made me laugh out loud. Characters are certainly memorable and the episodes they go through are interesting in theory, but I was not really captivated that deeply by Cervantes' plotting or style. I'm happy to have finished this monster of a book and reach an understanding of its content, but it's something I only appreciate in a broad sense, and I'm decidedly not a fan of its particularities.

Dune by Frank Herbert. A long-overdue re-read--my first experience with this work was well over ten or fifteen years ago, when I was less mindful of certain writing nuances. On the first glance, I wrote this off as a droll read. In retrospect, I believe I was put off by Herbert's writing style, which is a grade less personal. The way he jumps around all different character thoughts in the same scene certainly takes some getting used to—I always heard that headhopping was bad and writers who use it should feel bad. But, it ocurred to me that Dune leverages the headhopping in a smart way, since many scenes use the different thoughts to underscore the underlying conflicts between different characters and factions. It all works because of the focus on Dune's legendary world-building, and it still staggers the imagination. I have always admired the story's characters and ideas though its other media, but everything owes their existence to the original book. I have a newfound appreciation for it, even if the writing style seems old-fashioned or unconventional.

The Godfather by Mario Puzo. Seemed necessary given the reputation of the film adaptation (and I have to admit that my appreciation for the film goes up the more I see it—it is an interesting case where a sordid, pulpy story is elevated by an artistic presentation). Puzo's original novel is surprisingly sordid as it spares little detail in all the violence and sex the character engage in. While the mafia lifestyle seems to be glorified in some media (maybe even the Godfather films), it feels like there's an effort in the novel to tear down the romanticism, focusing on ugly details to underscore the dangerous and harmful aspects of this lifestyle. It is still something of an epic power struggle at its core, although the bigger focus is on family dynamics—parts of it naturally feel like they're indulging in many slices of life, especially as it branches off on many tangents with multiple characters. I'm not sure if it's sloppy or well-constructed, it feels like both somehow. All the same, I was entertained and intrigued more than I expected to be.

The Kaiju Preservation Society by John Scalzi. Oh, this was funny. The premise alone is a hoot, and is loaded with promise. The story is ultimately a breezy read thanks to its low-key prose and personable narrative voice. The story is light and fun, with enough room for plenty of imagination and a few interesting ideas. Nothing terribly deep, but highly enjoyable. As an audiobook narrated by Will Wheaton, it was exceptionally funny to listen to.

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman. I was enamored by the film adaptations of this story, so I made it a priority to read this book pronto. There is a blunt, workman quality to the book, which perfectly befits the character. However, this can also made the reading experience dry, especially from the middle onwards—it felt like it was getting long in the tooth, and the charm of the dry comedy wore off after a while. It's still one of the most worthwhile novels I've read in a while, and an easy recommendation to any book lover. Themes of tolerance, and a focus on humanitarianism, will surely warm your heart.

Mistborn: The Final Empire by Brandon Sanderson. I had heard about Sanderson's work for years, as he is often praised for his works, with special focus on the way he handles fantasy. It seems that he is often championed for the way he creates magic systems with clear-cut rules and limitations. This is easily Mistborn's best quality, as the book spends a lot of focus on detailing how a mistborn's power works and how it impacts the world. This remains the book's most memorable feature, but the core story is not too shabby either, with its focus on a sympathetic character seeking justice (or revenge perhaps) in the midst of an oppressive state. The epic struggle that follows kept my interest, even if it feels pretty similar to other works I've seen or read. There is a chance I'll follow up with the sequels, but as it is, I enjoyed this book for the setting and worldbuilding more than the actual prose or story.

Manga

Under the Air by Osamu Tezuka. I had heard of Tezuka before, given the notoriety of such classics as Astro Boy. I was surprised to find that the stories in Under the Air were mostly crime stories, often with a large amount of violence, sex, and nudity. The twists in many stories were pretty good doozies, but some were weak, some seemed contrived, and some just came across as unhinged. It was an entertaining anthology all the same.

Venus In the Blind Spot by Junji Ito. I previously ventured through Uzumaki with equal parts morbid fascination and admiration for the artwork and tight focus on horror storytelling. Naturally, that admiration extends to this collection of short stories too, and I believe there's not a bad one in this bunch. They're all memorable, even when if they're overly fantastic and don't make a lot of sense—the images alone are haunting, and I enjoyed the gradual reveal of each story's grotesque twists.

Non Fiction

Astrophysics for People in a Hurry by Neil deGrasse Tyson. Sure, the guy might be a bit of a loud-mouth and a blow-hard, but I had enjoyed listening to some of his discussions before, and reading his book seemed like a no-brainer. It is certainly insightful on many topics concerning the cosmos and our place in it. It's written in a plain, laid-back language that makes the content easily-accessible to everyone. It's a good read, plain and simple. Much of its content covers knowledge I had learned from other sources before, but it's still insightful and would be an easy recommendation to anybody with a casual interest in space.