The most recommended new books

Kit and I share some life similarities, she’s a working-class girl with a Birmingham background, published later in life, and I was keen to read her story. Written as scenes from childhood with sharp observation and wit, her book illustrates an unpredictable childhood. The daughter of an Irish mother and Caribbean father in a large and sometimes chaotic family, where there is love in the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses, but not always at home. There are the familiar places, the family dynamics observed with the clarity of a child, and the tit-for-tat games her parents play - dad buys a new car, the next week, mum a harmonica and Davy Crockett hat. All quirks observed and challenging situations related with a lightness of touch and wit, a genuine pleasure to read.

Randy Harris is a colleague of mine at the University of Waterloo, and his book is a marvelous history and analysis of the decades-long intellectual battle between Noam Chomsky and George Lakoff. It provides the context and background for how Lakoff’s theory of metaphor was part of the development of alternatives to Chomsky-style linguistics, along with some trenchant criticisms of the very idea of conceptual metaphor. 

I adore Karice Bolton’s ability to weave romance and women’s fiction—a genre focused on telling the woman’s story.

I loved that these characters are mature and well-developed and found this to be a comfortable world for me to walk into. The emotions run high in this one, and it’s absolutely perfect. I liked the balance of character development mixed with romance. 

I know and love some hopeless optimists and can recognise myself in Angry Wasp and Friendly Bee in equal measure.

This is a quirky and hilarious book about finding friendship in the most unlikely places. I love the messages of loyalty and glass-half-full living, all in a fun mix of near-miss disasters.

It's a great read for younger readers learning about friendship.

This is a slim book and it's told in an intimate, lyrical voice that feels like it's speaking directly to you from the period – which, in this case, is the 9th century CE.

All the Horses of Iceland follows a Norse trader through Rus to Mongolia in the company of Khazars. It's a ghost story, with notes of sadness mixed with wonder. And while it is possible to trace the journey and pick up on historical signposts, the book doesn't acknowledge that it knows when and where its reader might be – which bolsters the illusion of reading something very old.

Westerners often believe that in the Middle East, ideas of democratic freedom and human rights are gifts of Western civilization. Not so, this book shows. Across the Arab world, there are generations – and in some cases, centuries – of local activism, organization, and intellectual life focused on democracy and liberalism. This is an extraordinary heritage, and one that inverts the script of Western condescension: Arab thinkers were debating democratic possibilities well before women could vote in America.

Rich boarding school meets murder mystery in Jesse Q. Sutanto’s The New Girl—except main character Lia Setiawan is anything but wealthy, and we already know she’s the killer.

It was an accident, but that doesn’t stop her from worrying about going to prison for her teacher’s murder as the detectives circle the drain. I laughed out loud so many times while I flew through this book, the question of whether she’d get caught ripping me to shreds in anticipation.

There are no spoilers here, but I’ll tell you it’s worth the wild ride.

This is not as good as the brilliant Less, for which Greer had won the Pulitzer, but it is nevertheless a riveting, bitter-sweet ramble through the aging, gay, mildly successful novelist Arthur Less’ affairs and absurdities, foibles, and fears.

Writing about the middle-aged heterosexual man and his loves and losses has never been an easy task: only a few writers, like the underrated Italo Svevo, have managed to carry it off. But writing about a middle-aged homosexual man’s loves and losses is probably even more difficult: after all, a sizeable chunk of readers are heterosexual.

Greer managed it so brilliantly in Less and convincingly in Less is Lost that even staid heterosexual readers like me were entertained, moved, and captivated. This is a funny novel about, as a reviewer put it, “the absurdity of the human condition and its wistful beauty.”

The Great Cities Duology is the best urban fantasy I've read in a long time. Nothing against vampires and werewolves, but Jemisin pushes the genre so far beyond them.

She brings us a diverse cast whose lives are upended as they become avatars for the five boroughs of New York City. And what is a fitting opponent for New York City? Why, another city — this one full of horrors who seek to replace New York itself. 

There's so much scathing comment here: gentrification, prejudice, systemic racism, bureaucratic obstacles that threaten to drown the city. The author herself found the work so fraught that she concluded the series early. Nevertheless, it's a great work of urban fantasy, fitting for the city it portrays.

What is a whale fall? The title captivated me. I learned, via lyrical text, that whale fall is when a dead whale sinks to the ocean floor and, like a tree, provides food and shelter to a host of animals, “deep-sea denizens,” for 50 years or more. Its skin, blubber, bones, and all invite the scavengers to feast: hagfish, sleeper sharks, eelpouts, rattails, crabs, mollusks, microbes, and more until eventually, the “last trace of the mighty whale is gone.”

I also love that the back matter includes esoteric and detailed facts about the scavengers. The book inspires curiosity. I had never thought that animals could provide food and shelter for decades. Now I want to know what other animals do this!