While in general 2024 was hit-or-miss (with the unspeakable horror of November 5th as the most egregious example of a miss), I am pleased to report that it was at least a fine reading year. Looking back on previous end-of-year book posts, it seems that I was past due for a good year, and so I am grateful for this one. Although the jaded reader inside me still finds it less likely each year to discover new writers I’ve not previously read who bowl me over, this year yielded an iota of hope. I came across not just one, but two writers new to me who stimulated and challenged my reading mind, while also reinvigorating my interest in the novel as a form capable of further manipulation, however slight.
These two contemporary British writers, Thomas Kendall and Ansgar Allen, captured my attention in a way that I have sorely missed. As such, during 2024 I read both of Kendall’s novels and much of Allen’s fiction corpus to date. Although I connected on a more emotional level with Kendall’s debut novel The Autodidacts, which was my favorite book of 2024, it is his second novel, How I Killed the Universal Man, that is more exciting in terms of literary achievement, for it envisions a possible very near future for humanity with all the attendant ramifications therein, all laid out in a way that does not cater to reader comprehension. It feels prophetic in the most frightening (and depressing) ways.
Similarly, Ansgar Allen’s fiction does not waste time courting the reader. Over the past five years, Allen has been quietly yet fiercely challenging the status quo of literature with his disruptive approaches to the act of writing. His work is not easy to categorize, which I believe is his intent. I was so intrigued by Allen’s work that I reached out to him for an interview, which will be published in February 2025 at Heavy Feather Review. In the interview, we discuss his work, the acts of writing and reading, the future of ‘the book’, and how sound can affect writing, among other topics. I also reviewed Allen’s latest novel The Faces of Pluto, and that review will be published at HFR in January 2025. I will add a link to it in this post once it has been published.
Since I focused a good amount of my reading energy this year on reading multiple books by individual authors, some of the books in the list are grouped by author. As usual, unless indicated otherwise, the links are to my Goodreads reviews.
Authors new to me
Thomas Kendall
The Autodidacts
How I Killed the Universal Man
Ansgar Allen
The Faces of Pluto (link to HFR review to be added)
The Wake and the Manuscript
Jesse Ball
Ball is a writer who has been on my radar for a few years, and I am very glad to have finally read some of his work. The two novels that I list here were my favorites of the four that I read. However, I am sufficiently interested that I will likely read more of his work.
The Repeat Room (review written on the day after the 2024 U.S. election)
A Cure for Suicide (no review written)
Maryse Meijer
Meijer was yet another writer who I had heard good things about, but I hadn’t read anything by her before this year. On the basis of my response to her first short story collection (Heartbreaker), I ended up reading her second collection of stories (review) and her novel The Seventh Mansion (no review).
Drain Songs: Stories and a Novella by Grant Maierhofer
Maierhofer is another writer whose name I regularly see mentioned in various literary haunts, but I hadn’t gotten to his work (apparently this was the year for trying to catch up on my to-read list). I had mixed reactions to some of the stories in this collection, but a couple of them and the title novella were excellent. The ‘review’ is just some minimal notes.
The Stories of Breece D’J Pancake by Breece D’J Pancake
This book languished on my to-read list for a decade before I finally got to it this year. It is a fantastic collection, and I think D’J Pancake could probably have eclipsed Raymond Carver if he’d lived longer than his brief 26 years.
Depressive Realism: Interdisciplinary Perspectives by Colin Feltham
This is a nonfiction book published by an academic press, but the ebook can be found at the Internet Archive. Despite its origins in academia, I think it is accessible to general readers, and I found it replete with compelling arguments.
Undercurrents by Marie Darrieussecq
Sometimes vagueness in writing can be hauntingly beautiful.
The Spectacle at the Tower by Gert Hofmann
One of those special books that masterfully maintains a sense of dread throughout, which I’m always seeking and rarely finding. For comparison, Paul Bowles comes to mind.
Mockingbird by Walter Tevis
A very fine dystopian novel from 1980.
Erasure by Percival Everett
This is deeply effective satire and very much on point. I read the book before watching the film adaptation (American Fiction), which is also good but unsurprisingly not quite as nuanced.
A Month in the Country by J. L. Carr
Carr’s atmospheric novel had been on my to-read list for nearly 10 years. It was very good, but I didn’t write a review. It seems at first to be a relatively simple story, but as the pathos builds it grows more complex.
Previously read writers
James Purdy
I read Narrow Rooms as a follow-up to In a Shallow Grave, which was a highlight of last year, and in the review of which I boldly claimed I would now read everything Purdy wrote. However, having since been underwhelmed by two of his other novels—Mourners Below (review) and The Nephew (review)—I am now skeptical of the veracity of that claim.
Philip K. Dick
I feel certain that in my lifetime I will complete my reading of all of PKD’s published work, but I am in no hurry. These three were all very good additions to the list of those I’ve read to date.
VALIS
Lies, Inc.
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
Gary J. Shipley
Shipley is an acquired taste and not for the squeamish. But he is one of the few writers in whose use of explicit horror I can discern a purpose apart from purely shock value. For that reason, I will continue to read his work, despite not always having the stomach for it.
So Beautiful and Elastic
The Unyielding
Crypt(o)spasm
Other noteworthy books by previously read writers
Burning Your Boats: The Collected Short Stories by Angela Carter
The Complete Short Stories: Volume 2 by J.G. Ballard
Alice Knott by Blake Butler
Rusticles by Rebecca Gransden
Dark Property: An Affliction by Brian Evenson (no review)
Mice 1961 by Stacey Levine: I neglected to include this in my original post because I technically read it in 2023, though it wasn’t published until 2024. I would be remiss in not mentioning it, though, as it was among the most unique novels I’ve read in recent years. The arrival of a new book by Stacey Levine is no small thing, and the long wait for this one was worthwhile. A polyphonic novel entwining sisterhood with the uncertain paranoia of the early Cold War, Mice 1961 takes place in small-town Florida, primarily during the course of a rollicking community house party. Certain novels offer the reader with an immersive experience, where one truly feels as if they have entered the book as an observer. This is one of those rare novels.
A few other notes: This year I finally finished reading Infinite Jest, which I had been reading on and off for the past two years or so (I liked Don Gately and the addiction recovery storyline best, but overall I preferred The Pale King, despite its unfinished status); I also finished the Gormenghast trilogy; I read two more of Clarice Lispector’s novels (The Hour of the Star and The Besieged City) and continue to be boggled by the inscrutability of her fiction; and I read Michel Houellebecq for the first time after years of reading reviews of his novels (I chose Serotonin and had mixed feelings).
s. d. stewart 