March ended with a resumption of winter. I was not a fan, but I did end up reading more as a result of our suddenly snowy month. With the lateness of this post (sorry about that!) I won’t say too much more here — I’ll wait until April’s post to add a full introduction.

On the Beach, by Nevil Shute

I read On the Beach for the first time in high school. I think it was my first real dystopian/post-apocalyptic novel. Shute’s depiction of Australians waiting for nuclear fallout from a world war haunted me, though I focused very much on the surface level, the decay of a society. What I didn’t understand then, or maybe wasn’t ready to understand, is the way Shute allows each of his characters to disconnect from the reality of their situation differently. One character plans for a future garden. Another races cars without concern for his own safety. The audience proxy refers to his infant daughter only as “it,” declining to engage emotionally. Engaging more fully with these disconnections moved the book from just haunting to devastating. I don’t know that I’ve read much like On the Beach and I can’t recommend it strongly enough.

King Henry VI, Part 3, by William Shakespeare

Not my favorite of the Henries, in part because the future Richard III spends a lot of time running around and essentially shouting “I AM AN ENORMOUS JERK AND A VILLAIN” from the rooftops. I do think, though, that Richard III makes more sense with some of the context provided by this play and the rest of the Henry VI cycle.

Ancillary Sword, by Ann Leckie

The second in Leckie’s Ancillary trilogy, I think Ancillary Sword is in some ways the strongest of the three. I enjoyed Leckie’s exploration of planetary politics and the way she melds the political and personal. Neither set of motivations becomes too simple or too complicated, which can be a tricky line to walk in science fiction. I found Ancillary Sword to be a very satisfying sequel to Ancillary Justice and I was very excited to read the next one.

When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain, by Nghi Vo

The second in Nghi Vo’s Singing Hills Cycle. A second second in a row! Series star cleric Chih, tasked with wandering and learning history and stories, gets in a story-based standoff with some tigers in human form. I adore the way this novella is able to explore truth, storytelling, and cultural difference without being too blunt or sprawling beyond 120 or so pages. Delightful.

Margot at War: Love and Betrayal in Downing Street, 1912-1916, by Anne de Courcy

On the one hand, Anne de Courcy’s popular history is an interesting domestic portrait of the Asquith family at the start of Herbert Asquith’s ministry and the beginning of the First World War. On the other hand, this is also a book that mentions offhandedly that Asquith was known to be “handsy” with young women and never really follows up on that. It’s hard to square his predatory behavior with the sympathy the book asks the reader to lend him as it covers the collapse of his government and his subsequent retirement.

Into the Riverlands, by Nghi Vo

The third novella in the Singing Hills Cycle, Into the Riverlands places cleric Chih in a story that feels constrained by the length of the book. In this installment, Chih makes friends and goes on a journey. Here, I wanted more time with the journey and more time with the friends. Even a few more chapters would have helped, but I still found the plot delightful and the writing thoughtful. The least of the series so far, I think, but well worth the read.

Mammoths at the Gates, by Nghi Vo

The fourth installment in the Singing Hills Cycle! Cleric Chih returns home to the Singing Hills Monastery and everyone learns about growing up and growing old. More so than previous books in the series, this one depends on having spent time with cleric Chih. It’s still perfectly readable from a plot perspective, I think, but the emotional resonance added by reading the earlier books makes this one a series standout.

Ancillary Mercy, by Ann Leckie

The conclusion to the Ancillary trilogy, Ancillary Mercy is still great. It just suffers a little from it’s-time-to-wrap-everything-up syndrome. Could Leckie write an essentially infinite number of these books given the huge universe she’s built for herself? Yes! She doesn’t have to, of course, and even though I wanted more time with the some of the events described as coming up immediately after the end of the novel, I’m fine with this as an ending.

They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us, by Hanif Abdurraqib

A collection of essays on music, race, murder, love, and American culture in the 2010s. Stunning!

Go Ahead in the Rain: Notes to A Tribe Called Quest, by Hanif Abdurraqib

I came to A Tribe Called Quest with their final album, when it was already clear that the group was done. Abdurraqib’s history of the group, told through essays on them, on his experiences with their music, and letters addressed directly to different members, is a perfect introduction to the rest of their work. The book is messy, but A Tribe Called Quest was messy, too. The sprawl is the point.

Land of Milk and Honey, by C Pam Zhang

A private chef moves into a compound with a wealthy man and his daughter as they revive and destroy animals and plants in a dystopian world where smog created by farming experiments has caused devastating environmental damage. Very odd, at times VERY difficult to read, and still a wonder. If the description sounds at all intriguing to you, give it a try. Zhang does a lot with a little here and the book is beautifully written and paced.