splother and MrG, sorry for your losses. 
Three outstandingly good books in succession to report on, which has cheered me up no end. I’ve read good and varied books this year but have found few that have sucked me in the way these did. I’m still (still) moving ahead with a couple of
massive tomes in tandem but need other diversions.
29 The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker
This was an audiobook - I found the reading of it (average, at best) the most disappointing thing about the telling of the Trojan War through the eyes of Queen Briseis, who was given to Achilles as a prize after her city was sacked. After Circe and The Penelopiad, telling elements of the aftermath from a woman’s perspective, it was good to come closer to Troy through this story, and it was largely very well done. The language was plain - sometimes jarringly contemporary (references to half a crown were a little odd) - but powerful in the way it conveyed the anguish of the enslaved women and their friendships. I was pleased to see it on the long list for the Women’s Prize and although I don’t expect it will win it’s good to see it being recognised. If you enjoyed Circe, I’d highly recommend it - it’s much earthier and more grounded in the horror of war than Circe but in the same vein. It may be time to read The Iliad - I feel like I’m circling round it but not quite there yet.
30 The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion
I have a bit of a crush on Joan Didion but for some reason had never read this account of the aftermath of her husband’s death and her daughter’s acute and life threatening illness. Didion isn’t sentimental but her prose is agonising as she talks about the aftermath of trauma and the way the ones left behind rebuild their lives through bargaining and avoidance. I can see this would be a comforting if raw read after the death of a loved one - a bereaved friend carries a copy with her as she says passages comfort her in a way nothing else does. A beautiful and beautifully sad memoir.
31 The Door by Magda Szabó
This was an amazing book, and my read of the year so far. It was entirely left field - when my sister and I decided to embark on our “12 books in translation in 2019” project I found a copy of this I bought years ago on my shelf so insisted on this going on the list in the face of her protests that it sounded dull. And in truth I thought she’d probably be right as I’ve pulled it off the shelf several times and put it back because how good can a story about a writer and her housekeeper set in Hungary in the 1960s and 70s be? It was extraordinary - dark, thoughtful and almost like a myth at times, and a really deeply moving reflection on obligation and friendship and love, while also being strange enough to linger after it was finished. I’m so glad we read it and even my grumpy sister agreed it was worth it. A great find and makes me enthusiastic about our project as it was entirely unlike anything an English writer would create, only in part because of its strong narrative links to the War, the Holocaust and Communism. But also just very different in tone and style to anything else I’ve read.