Book(s) of the Year: Final 23 books of 2023

There’s a certain poetry to finishing off the year with 23 more book reviews, though I promise I didn’t plan it. And, if I’m honest, it isn’t – several of the “books” are actually novellas or short stories. But this has been a most productive half of the year when it comes to reading, mostly because I’m commuting a lot more and spending the time with my Kindle. Let’s begin.

Start with Why by Simon Sinek

I swung heavily between loving and hating this book — loving it because it gave me the framework to structure how I think about the product I’m building, and hating it because it was too founder-focussed, American-centric, and repetitive. That said, I can probably attribute some of my recent ideation around my company’s branding and product positioning to the influence of this book’s main thesis. 4/5

Brit(ish): On Race, Identity, and Belonging by Afua Hirsch

What I liked most about this book is its transparent, honest look at race and identity in contemporary Britain — the author didn’t shy away from deconstructing her own privilege. It was painful and optimistic all at once, and immensely relatable for someone who has felt adrift in terms of identity for most of my life. 5/5

A Strange Incident by Aleksandr Kuprin

It appears that Amazon has much of Kuprin’s work available for free, so I took the opportunity to download a few of his short stories and novellas. This one had a theme very similar to The Garnet Bracelet — and, in fact, may have even been mentioned in the novella as a side story — but was somehow less striking. Perhaps it’s the weight of expectation I’ve now formed for his work, but this one didn’t strike me as much as the first two I read. 3/3

Rest: Why You Get More Done When You Work Less by Alex Soojung-Kim Pang

Ironically, I started this book by skim reading the first few chapters. It was only later on that it actually gripped me, and I began concentrating on the message. Rest repeated a lot of information I’d read elsewhere, but presented it in an interesting way. While not everything I read about historical polymaths is necessarily suited to contemporary society and expectations, there were nevertheless a lot of takeaways applicable to every situation — namely, the importance of finding uninterrupted time to pursue what is important to you. 3/3

Shape Up: Stop Running in Circles and Ship Work that Matters by Ryan Singer

Perhaps this is a limitation of my imagination — problematic in my profession, I admit — but I hadn’t seriously considered any alternatives to established product management frameworks. And then I was recommended this book. I wouldn’t say I or my team need to switch immediately to the Shape Up method, but I acknowledge its superiority in certain areas. It makes so much sense to shape “pitches”, get rid of the backlog, make “bets” and empower the engineering and product design teams to work collaboratively on shipping incremental improvements. 4/5

The Three Ages of Okini-san by Valentin Pikul

While I enjoyed the novel, I often found myself thinking that the author just needed a storyline to retell the historical events of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He even finished the novel with the words, “I wish I could’ve told you more.” This focus on history came at a cost to the plot, with none of the women in the main character’s life, not even Okini-san herself, given the courtesy of a developed, three-dimensional personality. And yes, I acknowledge that Kokovtsev’s descent into destitution doesn’t paint him in the best light, but his lack of consideration for any of the people surrounding him while giving undue attention to world events seems more representative of the author’s priorities than his character’s. 3/5

Halfway to You by Jennifer Gold

I chose Halfway to You as one of my Amazon Kindle first reads a while back and finally got around to reading it. After the heaviness of my last book, I needed something light. It fit the bill. Though there was the occasional plot hole and more than a few moments where you just wanted the characters to stop interrupting each other and be reasonable, I mostly liked it. 3/5

The Venice Sketchbook by Janet Quin-Harkin

I enjoyed the historical aspect of the story, though it sort of skimmed over most of the tragedies, but the rest of it was really strange. A mother who doesn’t really seem to remember her kid unless it’s convenient for the story arc? Mild incest? Impeccable memory for a toddler? The suspension of disbelief was a bit too much, but reading it was a nice experience. 2/5

Small Island by Andrea Levy

I love Small Island — I watched a recording of the National Theatre performance during Covid and fell in love with the characters. They’re so alive. Even when you dislike their behaviour, you’re rooting for them. I would give it top marks, but there were certain angles I thought were unexplored — or perhaps rushed. Otherwise a phenomenal work. 4/5

La Vie, According to Rose by Lauren Parvizi

With Amazon Kindle first reads, it can really be hit or miss. Unfortunately, most of the ones I’ve chosen — with the notable exception of West with Giraffes — have been misses. This one was an even worse miss than usual. While feeling stuck in the rat race and walked over by your family resonated, the rest of it was absurd. I don’t even have words for how underdeveloped the characters were and how completely irrationally they behaved — and that was the ones who were meant to be the reasonable ones! No, thank you. 1/5

Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb

This is another one of those books that I think came at just the right time — it had been recommended to me last year, but I hadn’t gotten around to reading it until now. And I’m glad I waited. Because there are such different characters in the book, all needing help in their own way (including the author), parts of it resonate strongly and other parts are just interesting to consider. The idea of being trapped only in your own mind is a powerful one — but overcoming it requires a lot of work. 4/5

The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas (père)

I can’t fault Dumas for his characters or plotlines — both are fascinating, engaging, and immensely entertaining. But the female characters were little more than props. And yes, of course, it was a different time, and there was the more complex character of Milady, but that outcome was even more outrageous. I’m not in any way condoning her actions, but it’s more than a little unfair that the true villain of the story used her for his own means and then got off with a handshake. I’m excited to see Eva Green’s portrayal, though! 4/5

Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney

If I could enjoy Normal People with the understanding that I most likely wasn’t the target audience and, had I been a few years younger, I definitely would’ve been, the same cannot be said for Conversations with Friends. I thought I’d like the premise, especially as it’s been such a relevant topic in our modern society, but the behaviour of all participants was infantile yet somehow predatory at the same time. Perhaps that was the whole point, but I didn’t feel that any of the characters evolved in any meaningful way. Which, again, could’ve been the point, but if so, what a waste of time. 3/5

White Teeth by Zadie Smith

It took me a while to get around to reading White Teeth, but it was certainly a pleasure to read it now. Despite their oddities and eccentricities, the characters are so believable, so realistic in this tapestry of London life. And even though I can’t say I necessarily enjoyed the way the story ended — the epilogue, I mean, not the finale — it tries to make a statement. Maybe it missed the mark for me, but I can appreciate the point it’s making. In short, that we all want different things out of the books we read and the storylines we invest in, but I guess the Rolling Stones said it best. We can’t always get what we want. 4/5

The Hard Parts by Oksana Masters

I’m not usually a fan of autobiographies, especially not of ghost written autobiographies, but Oksana Masters’ story was incredibly moving. And it was moving particularly because it wasn’t inspiration porn, though it could’ve easily been. It was moving because I related to Oksana in ways I didn’t imagine I would, and while I empathised strongly for all the hardship she’d been through, I didn’t define her by it, much like she didn’t define herself by it. 5/5

Slavic Soul by Aleksandr Kuprin

I mentioned earlier that I downloaded a whole archive of Kuprin short stories and am slowly making my way through them whenever I want something Russian to read. This was the shortest yet, and definitely not my favourite. It’s an interesting one, because it forces you to try to understand the motivations of a person very different to any I’ve ever come across. And perhaps that mystery is the perfect metaphor for the Slavic soul. 3/5

The Louder I Will Sing by Lee Lawrence

The truth of racism is always shocking. It was when Lee Lawrence’s mother, Cherry Groce, was shot in her own house for no reason, and it was when George Floyd was murdered during the pandemic. How can this happen then, now, all around? Where is our collective humanity? And while I want to say that Lee Lawrence, his family, and the countless others have handled the tragedies in their lives with resilience and grace, it shouldn’t have to be that way. They shouldn’t be praised for these qualities when they are completely justified in being outraged and demanding justice. 5/5

The Humans by Matt Haig

I really enjoyed The Humans. It was witty and observational, and though it felt, at times, that that author was trying too hard with his brand of humour, it was nevertheless touching. That being said, I can’t quite give it full points, because there were two main things that rubbed me the wrong way, both of which are related to the character of Isobel Martin. She really got the short end of the stick, because even though she was depicted compassionately, I got a sense that not even the author respected her — and she’s meant to be a world class historian. And then, while the end was heartwarming, it was a bit too unrealistic for me, although perhaps that’s the point — but seriously, what chance does the narrator have of any forgiveness? 4/5

To Paradise by Hanya Yanagihara

The mark of good literature is that it makes you think — and feel. Yanagihara’s work always does both, and what’s remarkable is that unlike many authors, whose work echoes the same motifs over and over again, her work is always unique, but equally spellbinding. This novel is no exception, weaving between three centuries and alternate realities. Each narrative is incomplete, but that’s the point — there are more questions than there are answers. One review mentioned similarities to War and Peace, though the narratives in Tolstoy’s masterpiece were much more linear. This is perhaps the postmodern answer to War and Peace, inspired, no doubt, by the coronavirus pandemic and the government’s right to intervene “for the greater good’. And yet, while the ending was strong, I felt a distinct lack of clarity for the remaining stories, told, perhaps, as possibilities of other lives in other times, but somewhat lacking a purpose other than beautiful prose. 4/5

All the Kremlin’s Men: Inside the Court of Vladimir Putin by Mikhail Zygar

I’d been recommended this book by a few friends, and finally got a chance to read it. I must say, I really enjoyed it. It’s fascinating – though equally worrying – to break down the rise of Vladimir Putin. In a way, there are echoes of Tolstoy, that there is no single “great man”, it’s rather a series of actions – both from his inner circle, but also from the public they address. All the names and figures could get confusing, but I now feel like I have a better understanding of all the familiar names of Russia’s elite. I’ll definitely be reading more of the author’s work. 4/5

In a Single Moment by Imogen Clarke

After reading something heavy, I always need something light to relax. And unlike most of the other books that fit this bill, most of which were fairly rubbish romantic comedies, this one was lovely. I can’t say it was perfect, because I did feel as though a lot of the dialogue was forced and some of the emotions were contrived, but nonetheless it was heartwarming and genuine and enjoyable. I raced through it in a weekend, and if there’s anything to take away, it’s made me want to visit Lincoln. 4/5

The Hedgehog by Aleksandr Kuprin

Yet another short story by Kuprin, and once again it’s left me disappointed. I keep hoping for something like the first one of his I ever read – The Garnet Bracelet – but unfortunately nothing comes close. This one was very unusual and, I must admit, I didn’t quite understand its message. It’s likely to be a comedic take on the “terrifying, wild hedgehog”, but I read it as a bizarre cautionary tale about not buying anything from door-to-door salesmen.

The Three Body Problem by Liu Cixin

I downloaded The Three Body Problem on the recommendation of a colleague a few years ago. Then, when I was perusing my list of unread books, my finger slipped and the book opened. I began reading. Liu Cixin tackles the question of why we search for extraterrestrial life and how we could be in for a lot more than we expected if and when we find it. Most importantly, how different are we really, and what if the worst of humanity is only magnified? In these philosophical questions, the book reminds me of the best science fiction I’ve ever read – the Strugatsky brothers’ It’s Hard to be a God. I can’t wait to read the remaining books in the series. 4/5

After the previous 17, this takes me to the very respectable 40 for the year. So 2024 will need to be even more ambitious! Happy Holidays!

Review: Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going to Happen

I haven’t been to the theatre in a while. Ages, if you consider how frequently I used to go. But when Bush Theatre sent me an invitation to buy massively discounted tickets to see Marcelo Dos Santos’ Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible is Going to Happen, I couldn’t pass it up. So yesterday, we made our way to Shepherd’s Bush for a matinee — it was a near miss, too. Due to some road closures, we ended up having to sprint to the theatre. We made it to our seats just as the show was beginning.

I didn’t know what to expect, but I’d watched the trailer and it appeared to be a standup comedy. What I realised later is that it’s actually a play about a standup comedian — well, it’s still sort of a standup, but also about standup. Also about the personal life of the comedian himself and how he avoids feelings by turning everything into a skit. Sort of. If I’m honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what the play was trying to say.

But it did feel relatable. I’m the same generation as the main character and definitely have a lot of the same concerns and anxieties that he exhibited — even though his were, of course, dialled up to the maximum for comedic effect. And it was funny, mostly. The actor playing the main role, Samuel Barnett, was very good. He made it believable — though, I must admit, he wasn’t quite a standup comedian himself. But it somehow worked.

The play was only an hour long, which made it a very easygoing and light, if not particularly memorable, experience. As in, it was the theatre equivalent of a rom com, except, you know, more neurotic. Still, the delivery and the performance was good. It’s not going down as the “next great thing” in my books, but it was fun. Let’s put it this way: you’re not missing much if you don’t see it, but it’s a nice day out.

Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible is Going to Happen is at Bush Theatre until 23 December.

Review: Gogol Bordello

Nearly a quarter of a century old, and Gogol Bordello are still going strong. I’ve wanted to see them for years, but first I was too young, then too far. Finally, I got tickets in 2017, only to miss out due to a last minute work trip. So yesterday was a long time coming.

The atmosphere last night was fantastic. It wasn’t something I would typically enjoy — a mosh pit, sweaty people everywhere, violent dancing, drinks sprayed across the crowd by both performer and audience — but it was amazing. Everyone around me was friendly and I felt completely safe.

We arrived in time for the opening act — a Scottish punk band called Peat & Diesel — to finish up a few songs. I have to say, I greatly enjoyed their cover of Blondie’s Maria. The energy was pretty good, but as they finished up, the lights came back on and roadies began changing the set in preparation for Gogol Bordello, which felt like an unnecessary pause. They could’ve at least kept the lights dark.

But when Gogol Bordello came on, all was forgotten. They covered all their smash hits, including Immigraniada, which is arguably the song I came to the concert for. Immigrant Punk, Wonderlust King, Pala Tute, My Companjera, American Wedding — it was non stop. I don’t recall much from the Seekers & Finders album, which is one of my favourites, but it probably wasn’t the vibe they were going for.

Towards the end of the night, Eugene Hütz performed a touching tribute to Shane MacGowan, and then closed off the concert with a cover of Solidarity by the Angelic Upstarts, a song I wasn’t familiar with, but one they adapted to protest the war in Ukraine. It was both punk and touching. For me and no doubt for the others with Ukrainian roots in the audience it was especially emotional.

After the concert was over, we headed back to the car and laughed at how old we’ve become. Instead of alcohol, the only thing we drank that night was water and the thermos of ginger lemon tea my husband had the foresight to bring along. Not particularly punk of us, but definitely enjoyable. And who’s to say Gogol Bordello didn’t do the same?

Review: Pauline Boty at Gazelli Art House

There’s something endlessly captivating about the 1960s. Is it the blend of beauty, art, emerging counterculture, and that inherent sense of tragedy? Whatever it is, it remains enigmatic and alluring — much like Pauline Boty.

I must admit that I wasn’t familiar with her work, only learning about her when our sister gallery began preparing for their Pauline Boty exhibition — which I had the privilege of attending yesterday. But as I delved deeper into her story, my admiration for her grew exponentially. She was a trailblazer, far ahead of her time, carving a niche for herself in the male-dominated art world of her era and hinting at the feminist wave of the 70s.

Boty’s nickname from her school days — “the Wimbledon Bardot” — hardly does justice to her talent and vision. She had such a diverse range of skills — her paintings rivalled those of her contemporaries, and her forays into collage and printing were reminiscent of Warhol’s Factory. Yet, it was her stained glass work that truly captivated me.

I later learned that she chose stained glass as a specialisation at the Royal Academy after being dissuaded from applying to the painting school, largely due to her gender. There was one piece in particular that stood out — I can’t seem to find the name, but it was incredibly intricate. I’ve done a bit of stained glass in my time, and my grandmother especially loved the medium, so I felt the works on a personal level.

Because I was lucky enough to preview the exhibition a few hours before the opening night, I could be alone with her works. It was a surprisingly emotional experience, particularly in front of her portrayal of a woman menstruating at the seaside. It’s a piece that still manages to shock, raising the question – why does it evoke such a reaction even now?

The opening night itself was an electrifying mix of art and people – a vibrant gathering of the art world elite. I even thought I saw David Hockney, though I can’t be certain. As I didn’t know anyone bar the two friends I invited and a few gallery employees, my networking was minimal, but a short conversation about my yellow fox tights with a fellow attendee sparked a whimsical hope that I might inspire a work of art someday. In other words, keep your eyes peeled.

Above all, the evening was a wonderful time spent with friends. We had a lovely pasta dinner at a nearby cafe (after first having spent an hour in a different restaurant, where we experienced a laughably slow service from a waiter named after a famous dictator — seriously). And if that first experience wasn’t weird enough, we then ran into celebrity superfans as we headed for the tube, having to force our way past a man insistent at preventing our crossing due to Emily Blunt’s impending arrival.

I guess that’s London for you — we take the weird with the wonderful, and the exhibition was very much the latter.