Permanent I was so very sorry to read about your DH, and also those on the thread who have suffered similar losses.
Probably my last two reviews for 2021 below. I am currently reading Mrs Death Misses Death but unlikely to finish it before the end of tomorrow.
I've read some really good books this year. Below are my bolds (fiction then non-fiction). I can't decide on my top book of the year; it would be between Nomadland, My Rock 'n' Roll Friend and Findings - all brilliant.
Bricks and Mortar, Helen Ashton
A Spell of Winter, Helen Dunmore
The Pull of the Stars, Emma Donoghue
Redhead by the Side of the Road, Anne Tyler
Love After Love, Ingrid Persaud
Such a Fun Age, Kiley Reid
Spring, Ali Smith
Shadowplay, Joseph O'Connor
Three Hours, Rosamund Lupton
Klara and the Sun, Kazuo Ishiguro
Hamnet, Maggie O'Farrell
Throw Me to the Wolves, Patrick McGuinness
Stasiland, Anna Funder
Findings, Kathleen Jamie
Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder, Caroline Fraser
My Rock 'n' Roll Friend, Tracey Thorn
Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century, Jessica Bruder
Bad Blood: Secrets and Lies in a Silicon Valley Startup, John Carreyrou
One of Them, Musa Okwonga
88. Come Again, Robert Webb
Kate has recently lost her husband, Luke, to a tumour which has, unbeknownst to him, been growing in his brain since he was a boy. Broken by grief, she falls asleep one night after too much booze only to wake up in the past - in the early 90s, in university halls, on the day she met Luke for the first time. Will she be able to let him know about the tumour and somehow save him from his fate?
This was OK. I came for the depiction of early 90s student life, and enjoyed that (poster sales! cheap cider! paying for everything by cheque!). Webb's emotional intelligence is not as clear here as it was in How Not to Be a Boy, but he finds a good balance between romanticism and pragmatism which takes the plot in a different direction to the one I had expected initially.
The ending, sadly, is not great and feels like the ending from a different book bolted on (goodbye grief, melancholy, nostalgia, hello car chases and spies). I was just finishing this while we were discussing chick lit and it struck me how a not-brilliant book by a bloke about a woman and her husband gets described as "hilarious, brilliantly plotted", a "comedy thriller, a "wistful science-fictional romance", "well paced, nicely written and highly entertaining" - I'm not sure that female writers get given so much space to be mediocre in?
89. Ninth House, Leigh Bardugo
Comfort read which delivered. I didn't make huge efforts to follow the finer details of the plot which involves the (real life) secret societies at Yale actually being up to their elbows in magic, necromancy, and murder. At times it was all a bit confusing, and I didn't really bother to learn which society was which, and what sort of magic they specialised in. And that was OK - I was still able to engross myself in the escapist mix of Secret History (ivy league students, misfits, loyalties and secrets) and Harry Potter (protagonist from unhappy childhood discovers that they are actually Very Very Important and Powerful in a magic way, gets inducted into brilliant world of spells, libraries that read your mind, portals that travel through space etc) plus gritty social issues and more than a hint of romance (Bardugo has done the Twilight/Discovery of Witches thing here and taken sex between the main characters firmly off the table while hinting at it like mad to create a nicely simmering erotic undertone). I can't deny that there were times when it all got a bit silly, but generally this was a successful, engrossing, guilty pleasure.