February 2024

I have always known that I’m an extreme person, who approaches life in an all or nothing way. I spoke last month about how I was struggling to get through books, and now I’m coming to you having read 16. I don’t know what came over me this month, but I’m grateful to have finished my Sally Rooney re-read, given that her new novel was announced yesterday. How exciting! I don’t expect that I’ll keep up this pace into March, but it’s nice to feel like I've got my ability to get lost in books back. I’m also trying to not bring my phone to bed, with varying levels of success, so I’m hoping I’ll be able to read more as I get better at this.

Beautiful World, Where Are You by Sally Rooney

I hadn’t read this one since I inhaled it when it was first published, and I really enjoyed revisiting it. It’s my least favourite of her books, but I enjoyed the complicated relationships between the main characters, and the fact that this one wasn’t just based in Dublin. The emails get tedious after a while, and I’m suspicious that any friends send each other long diatribes about marxism (maybe my group and I just aren’t on the same cerebral level), but I still really loved reading it again.

The Pisces by Melissa Broder

This was the February pick for book club, as the theme for February was smut. It really split the group, with really extreme reactions on either side. I loved it, having been a fan of Broder since her sosadtoday Twitter days. It tells the story of a woman who abandons Arizona following a heartbreak to move to Los Angeles to babysit her sister’s dog. While there, she joins a group therapy focused on love and intimacy addiction, goes on grim app dates and wanders the beach before meeting a mysterious and beautiful swimmer in the water. It’s definitely not your run of the mill love story, but I loved its odd and beautiful approach. Broder’s writing is also sensual and gorgeous, even when she’s talking about bizarre topics.

Nothing Bad Ever Happens in Tiffany’s by Marian Keyes

I love Marian Keyes, and easily read this short collection of some non-fiction pieces from her, mainly focused on her adventures while shopping in New York. It made me wish I could be going to Tiffany’s and Miu Mia while I’m in NYC, although I love my adventures in CVS and Walgreens as much as the next girl.

Normal People by Sally Rooney

The final chapter in my Sally Rooney re-reading adventures. This is a tender exploration of a long-term relationship between Marianne and Connell, who go from their small town in Sligo, to university in Trinity College Dublin together. As I said in my previous review of Conversations with Friends, millennials studying English in Dublin in the mid-noughties is familiar territory for me. I prefer the TV adaptation of this, and the book of Conversations With Friends.

Foster by Claire Keegan

A short story about a girl who gets sent to live in a foster home while her mother prepares to give birth. It’s a moving piece, although I wished I could have learned more about the characters.

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan

I didn’t really get the hype on this one, but I think I may just be completely numb to the horrors that the church has visited on Irish society and people. It talks about a coal yard owner who makes some horrifying discoveries while delivering fuel to the local Magdalene laundry and convent. Having said this, I think I'll go see the film adaptation starring Cillian Murphy that is due out soon.

A Heart That Works by Rob Delaney

A beautiful tribute to a child who died far too soon, and to the NHS. Rob Delaney, a comedian from the US, moves to the UK with his wife and two sons for work. They welcome a third son, who is soon diagnosed with a brain tumour. The book charts his subsequent treatment and death in NHS London hospitals and facilities, and while you think it would be a depressing story, it’s a book filled with tenderness and love. The way that Delaney speaks about his son Henry, the rest of his family and the medical and care professionals they interact with moved me to tears. I’d recommend this to anyone living in the UK for a reminder of how vitally important the NHS is, as well as anyone who wants to know what they should say to someone who is grieving.

Green Dot by Madeleine Gray

The buzziest new novel from Australia, Green Dot tells the story of Hera, working in a stultifying office, who begins an affair with her married colleague Arthur. The power of this book is in its inanity, and in how Hera seemingly signs up for her own objectification at the hands of Arthur, who is extraordinary in how unremarkable he is. I read this one really quickly on Kindle, and will be purchasing it in paperback when it comes out.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield

I had this from when I attended Julia Armfield’s event at West Kirby Bookshop last year, and I was ready to dive into her first novel because I really enjoyed salt slow, her short story collection. Like with Clare Keegan, I think I’m the issue, cos I just couldn’t connect with it. It tells the story of Leah, a deep sea marine biologist, and her wife Miri, who is dealing with the aftermath of Leah’s return following a trip that lasts longer than expected. It’s lush and sensual, like salt slow, but I struggled to understand the book. I’d recommend to anyone looking for a fascinating queer novel, but it just wasn’t for me.

Over Sharing by Jane Fallon

An interesting study on online influencers and the people who become obsessed with them. The story is centred on Iris, who harbours a deep hatred of Maddy, a mum-fluencer who makes cutesy dance videos with her husband and children. I always enjoy Jane Fallon’s books as a nice palette cleanser when my brain is addled from more heavy reads.

Ordinary Human Failings by Megan Nolan

I loved Megan Nolan’s first book, so was really pleased when I managed to pick her second up in Liverpool Central Library. It’s really different to her first book, focused on an Irish emigrant family in early-nineties London, and a journalist who is trying to manipulate them into sharing details about a crime they are implicated in. It’s a fascinating look at familial dynamics, addiction and the press. I’ll also be purchasing this one when it’s out in paperback.

Pocket Power from The Slumflower by Chidera Eggerue

I’ve always admired The Slumflower, aka Chidera Eggerue, and the way she celebrates self-love, being single, and encouraging straight women to have strict boundaries on how they interact with the men they date. This little book of mantras encourages the reader to remember their self worth, and what is truly important while dating. This was good timing for me, as I’m currently engaging in a period of attempting to de-centre men, or “boy sobriety” as I recently heard a comedian talk about on Dan Savage’s podcast. A good reminder to prioritise myself and what really makes me happy.

Beyond the Tape: The Life and Many Deaths of a State Pathologist by Marie Cassidy

Marie Cassidy was the State Pathologist of Ireland between 2004 and 2018, regularly appearing in news bulletins as she dealt with some of the most notorious crimes on the island. Her book is a fascinating mix of personal anecdotes, pathological processes and in-depth knowledge about criminal justice. She writes with a level of detachment appropriate to her role, but has incredible insights into cases I had only ever read about on the news. A must-read for any true crime fan.

LX by Simon Armitage

A short collection of poems collated by Simon Armitage for his fiftieth birthday. It was released in limited, signed edition and I picked it up at West Kirby Bookshop. I love reading poetry, and as I was previously unfamiliar with his work, excepting the poems he’d published as British Poet Laureate, it was a really interesting place to start.

Mirror, Mirror by Patricia Scanlan

Another palette cleanser, this one talking about a family in 1960s Ireland, navigating, love, marriage, careers, infidelity and children outside of wedlock. A fun reminder of an Ireland long past. Thank god I was born in 1989.

On Language by John Grant

I have been a fan of John Grant since he released his first album in 2010. I’ve seen him live a couple of times, and his voice and lyrical talents are singular. He was also a close friend of Sinead O’Connor, who provided backing vocals on several of his tracks.

As well as being a talented lyricist, he is a polyglot, speaking multiple languages fluently. In this printed conversation with the journalist Will Burns, he discusses how different things are conveyed in different languages, and the politics of speaking Russian versus English. I would give anything to have dinner with him.

I’m currently sat in a cafe in the Baltic writing this, and it’s been a bit of a slog. I’m not sure if I’m encouraged to blast through books the way I did this month again.

I got lots of nice feedback after I shared my playlist last month, so February is below. Special shoutout to The Power of Love by Frankie Goes to Hollywood, and a very emotional cinema trip I had with Clare and Sara to see All Of Us Strangers.