60 books like Olive, Again

Girl, Woman, Other was the book I recommended to all my friends and family this year in our Christmas newsletter (yes, we are one of those families).

It follows twelve characters across two generations in the United Kingdom. Massive cultural shifts occur, socio-economic status changes, and children grow up.

At first glance, this might not appear to be a book about cross-cultural interactions but the relationship between the mother and daughter at the centre of the story highlight the monumental shifts that can occur in a lifetime.

After some challenges with reading the dialect, I became so intrigued by this heart-wrenching story of two teenage girls, one Trinidadian and one African-American, who come together unexpectedly in cold Minneapolis. I loved learning about their cultures, and I loved how they grew close despite their differences and supported each other through the crises of lost family and childhood cancer.

The language and pace beguiled me as a reader. The girls' viewpoints of their past and present worlds were engaging. I felt the heroism in each of them, one facing death, one trying to reunite with her family.

Peter Orner creates a startling intimacy with his characters. In these short, pithy vignettes, we see estranged siblings, dying spouses, missing fathers, and a marriage that is ending.  Orner’s gift is to drop us right into the conflict and emotional action of his characters. Every protagonist feels like someone we know and maybe even loved. His writing is breathtaking. Spanning America of the 80s, his stories take place across the country from California to Chicago to the East Coast.

One of the most original voices in contemporary fiction, Offill’s novel is unusual and from my perspective, brilliant. Perspective is what makes this book shine, the story is so direct it feels as if it is originating in the narrator’s innermost thoughts. Weaving facts and articles with slices of daily routine with the narrator’s own thoughts, the reader is propelled forward, almost a participant in the gradual transformation of the narrator as she comes to terms with her husband’s betrayal.  This short, spare book is hard to put down, wise in ways that are hard to articulate and yet Offill succeeds beautifully.

I love this book as it’s about a marriage in crisis and it shows the complete power that those we love most can hold over us.

I also loved the fascinating insight into the world of tennis as both main characters are tennis coaches – and I’ve always enjoyed Wimbledon! I thought the family dynamics and the push-and-pull of who to trust and why was utterly gripping.

I also loved how the way other people see the marriage is so completely different to how Stan and Joy, the husband and wife, see it. There are different versions of truth and, somehow, the one that carries the most love is the most important of all.

What makes a woman a hero? Irish writer John Boyne’s narrator was a last choice for me—the daughter of a top-ranking Nazi war criminal who carries the burden of her past at 90. But I came to love the voice of this narrator, her brutal honesty with herself and her circumstances, and her growing awareness of her culpability, even as a child, for what happened.

Boyne elegantly explores the question of whether terrible acts by fathers make their children responsible or if children are inherently innocent. The story’s ending was a complete surprise, bringing this character to hero status in my eyes, as she chooses honor above safety. 

A young woman begins to steal; she has no other way to support her starving and ill mother. When she’s caught, she’s given the fairytale choice of either jail time or service to a mastermind criminal. I’m a big fan of complex morality in a story, and I loved this twisted scenario—who is justified to commit a crime? How can a woman survive in a life of lies? And how can she eventually break free in a very unexpected way?

Because of the unexpected ways she responds to these three dilemmas, she became heroic in my eyes, and I cheered her on at the surprise ending. The author expertly layered the different timelines in this character’s life, never losing me in the transitions, which was an additional delight.

In this story, we’re in Georgia, deep in its geology, which for me wouldn’t be a draw for a novel, but Eager presents this landscape through the unforgettable character of Doreen, who struggles with poverty, her role as a woman in Southern culture, her inadequacies as a parent yet emerges as a real hero in her own life and others. 

What I took away was a new view on female pride, a woman’s honor, and what limits an aware person puts on her self-sacrifice. The characters are not all that likable, with the exception of Doreen, yet I was completely engaged in the story. The way the author weaves in the geology, what remains in the earth’s memory, and what remains in human memory was brilliant.  

Even though Jewett wrote the stories in this book in the late 1800s, there is a timeless feeling to her prose that reverberates today.

I love Jewett’s attention to and reverence for the natural beauty that surrounds the fictional town of Dunnet Landing. Her descriptions of the Maine coastline—a blend of craggy rocks, forest, meadows, and sea—are visceral, sensory, and alluring. Jewett also nicely captures the hardworking, humorous, quietly resilient spirit of the year-round residents of Dunnet Landing, with a particularly keen and kind eye toward her female characters.

Her care for the everyday rituals of life, the small moments that make up an existence, are lovingly rendered and evocative. There’s a reason this is a Maine classic. 

The Orphan Train is a novel about forgotten and neglected children left to fend for themselves in an antiquated welfare program. The story weaves memories of an old woman with the naiveté of a present-day teenager teaching the reader that everything is not as it appears.

Christina Baker Kline breathes life into a horrible moment of American history making us rip the bandage off, look at our past and see the unexpected silver lining.