Ever since I saw Emma Blackery’s video last Christmas, I’ve been looking forward to writing a Top Ten Books of 2015 list. (What can I say? I love lists. These are the things that excite me in life.) Finally, after a turbulent year of both excellent and awful reading, the time has arrived; below you will find my Top Ten books of 2015, plus a few honourable mentions that didn’t quite make the cut. Compiling this list was an incredibly gruelling and taxing emotional journey. I hope that effort is noticeable.
Disclaimer: this list is composed of books I read in 2015; not all of them were released in 2015, although quite a few actually were. Of the 52 books I have read this year as of writing, these were, in my opinion, the best, opinion being the key word here. I’m not saying these are the best books ever. These are just the ones I really, really liked.
I’m a religious Scott Pilgrim fan, so when I learned this year that Bryan Lee O’Malley, my lord and saviour, had released a new stand-alone graphic novel last year, I had to get my hands on it. I loved Seconds so much, I read it in one sitting. The book follows a headstrong young woman named Katie, head chef at a successful restaurant named Seconds, who discovers a magical, mushroom-y method of fixing her past mistakes and, in her bid to make her life perfect, only creates more problems for herself. It’s fun, quirky, and brimming with typical Bryan Lee O’Malley dry humour, and while it’s no Scott Pilgrim, it’s something special in its own right. I’d recommend Seconds to anyone who loves Scott Pilgrim, dry humour, and slightly psychedelic urban fantasy, which is the only way I can think to describe the genre of this fantastic graphic novel.
9. I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson
This is the contemporary that reminded me why I love contemporaries. Twins Jude and Noah, inseparable in their youth, grow apart after a tragic accident leaves their family in ruins, and by sixteen, barely know each other anymore. I’ll Give You the Sun is the gorgeously written, agonizingly soulful tale of how Noah and Jude fell apart, and their journey back to where they started. The storyline was very clever -- all the ‘throwaway’ moments eventually come back around, which I like in a novel -- and the characters were so interesting and engaging and tortured (who doesn’t love a little bit of teen angst?) that you couldn’t help falling in love with them, rooting for them every step of the way. Admittedly, I did feel that the first quarter of the book dragged a little bit, before the main story kicked in and all the minor plot points started weaving together. I also found Jude’s point of view slightly less interesting than Noah’s, but that’s only because I’m a sucker for a good gay romance. Otherwise, if you live for angst and arthouse, this spectacular novel will be right up your alley.
I inherited a second-hand copy of this book from my Year 12 English teacher after I overheard him talking about the love of my life, Kurt Vonnegut, and dropped everything to join the conversation. I had read only one other Kurt Vonnegut book when I first picked this up, and as with the first, I was completely blown away. The dude is a genius, and definitely my favourite author as of writing. His intelligence and cynicism always show through in his works, particularly in Mother Night, which follows a reluctant American secret agent who moonlights as the most effective Nazi propaganda news broadcaster in Germany and whose allegiance to the USA is kept so heavily under wraps that although he provided invaluable espionage information to the US government, only three people actually know he was a spy, so he ends up on trial for crimes against humanity. It’s poignant, it’s funny and dark, it’s Vonnegut the way I’ve come to love him this year. He’s so gifted at satire, black comedy, insight, metaphor, and impactful messages, and I just love him, okay? I love Kurt Vonnegut, and I love Mother Night.
I feel like I don’t need to explain the plot since this book is literally over 200 years old, but for those who don’t know, Elizabeth Bennet belongs to a middle-class family in Victorian England, and her mother’s sole wish is to marry her five daughters off to rich suitors. Drama ensues in the Bennet household when the incredibly wealthy, incredibly handsome, and incredibly arrogant Mr. Darcy moves into town with his charismatic best friend, Mr. Bingley. I’ve been meaning to read Pride and Prejudice since I first saw Hank Green’s web series adaptation, The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, about 18 months ago, and I’m so glad I finally did. There’s no doubt in my mind why this book has survived for over two centuries: it’s witty, it’s funny, it’s dramatic, it’s wonderfully characterised, plus I love Mr. Darcy and would probably die for him, to be perfectly honest. The themes of class and friendship and sisterhood and pride versus prejudice are so well done and engaging; I’m usually not a fan of 19th century classics, but this one changed my tune.
People often think I’m very highbrow, because I love pretentious indie movies and I can quote Hamlet and T.S. Eliot and I want to impeach John Key, but there’s nothing that gets me going more than a good old, gay-ass YA novel. (I’m realising that there’s a slight gay theme to this list, but really, who’s complaining?) Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, then, was just my cup of tea. Simon is developing a secret, online relationship with a boy who goes by the personna Blue, but their secrecy is jeopardised when one of their emails falls into the wrong hands, and Simon starts getting blackmailed. It sounds way more dramatic than the book actually ended up being, but I might have just been distracted by how much I adored the friendships and relationships and just the characters in general. This book was so sweet and fun, and although it does carry the drama theme really well, I just can’t stress enough how ardently I admired and loved how happy and light this adorable book made me feel. I may be highbrow, but damn, I love cute shit. Let me live, okay?
Everyone read this book in Year 10 English except me, so for a long time, I was part of a weird group of outsiders (heh): writers who haven’t read The Outsiders. (It’s a small group.) Well, now I’ve finally read it, and I can’t believe I waited this long. For all the unfortunate souls in the same boat as I was, here’s the rundown: Ponyboy Curtis and his gang of ‘greasers’, middle-class boys with little money and even less direction in life, are at constant war with the ‘Socials’, better known as the Socs, upper-class and up their own asses. The dynamic between these two social classes remains unchallenged and unquestioned until someone takes the years-old turf war to a whole new level. I know I’m supposed to be stimulated by the themes of class and friendship and loyalty, and as an English major, I really, really am, but what really captured my heart while I was reading The Outsiders was Ponyboy as a character. In hindsight, his introspection and his observation of the world remind me respectively of The Perks of Being a Wallflower and The Catcher in the Rye, two excellent books and one excellent compliment. I liked how Ponyboy was really open how he was feeling, even if he didn’t really understand it himself; it’s always interesting to see male characters be sensitive and emotional, since males are typically denied the right to portray these ‘feminine’ qualities in real life and in textual media. Obviously The Outsiders is a seventh or eighth-grade level read, so I flew through it in less than two days, but for all its simplicity, I simply loved it more. I hadn’t gotten that emotional over a book since I read the book at No. 1 on this list.
I actually reviewed this book last month, so if you want my full thoughts on it, you know where they are. This novel is about a high schooler named Greg Gaines, who makes his way through life unscathed by vaguely befriending everyone and thus slipping under the radar -- until his mom forces him to befriend Rachel, an estranged friend recently diagnosed with leukemia. It’s essentially a pity friendship that evolves into something more meaningful, which sounds really depressing, but it’s somehow not; my favourite thing about this book was the fact that it was insanely funny. I laughed out loud at almost every joke. I laughed out loud at the parts that weren’t jokes, but were just worded funny. There was just a lot of general laughter going on while I was reading this. I did have some a small issue with one part of the book, but I had such a good time reading the rest, I’m willing to overlook it. If The Fault in Our Stars made you super miserable but you’re still in the mood for a good cancer book, pick up Me and Earl and the Dying Girl. It’s still miserable, but less!
Part of me feels like I should have a poignant, soulful, highbrow classic that taught me an invaluable lesson about humanity at No. 2 on this list. The rest of me is screaming, fuck it. I loved Carry On, and I want the world to know. Carry On is a continuation from Rowell’s 2013 work, Fangirl. In Fangirl, Cath Avery writes fanfiction about a children’s fantasy series about Simon Snow; in Carry On, Rowell gives Simon and his comrades, “only half-imagined in Fangirl, the story [she] felt [she] owed them”. Simon attends a magical school called Watford, which is not unsimilar to Hogwarts but also not unsimilar to a regular British secondary school, and which is threatened by this narrative’s version of Voldemort: the Insidious Humdrum. As a diehard Harry Potter fan, I should be offended by how much of Simon Snow’s world mirrors Harry Potter’s, but Rowell actually interpreted the age-old idea of ‘wizard school’ in quite a unique, modern manner -- the students carry laptops and trial for the football team, not the Quidditch one. The thing I loved most about Carry On is actually a spoiler, so I won’t mention it, but damn, does Rainbow Rowell know how to write characters, for it was Simon and Baz and all their friends and foes who really made this novel a stand-out for me this year. They were witty and funny and perfectly executed; the teenage voice in this novel was highly accurate, bitchy and petty and profane but also reaching appropriate levels of John Green-like vocabulary -- teenagers are dickheads, but they’re not idiots, and Carry On really showed this. I couldn’t get enough. Rainbow Rowell, if you’re reading this, please write me more Simon Snow. I love him so much.
Really, who’s surprised? Anyone who has spoken more than four words to me in their life knows I love The Martian. I’ve told everyone and their mother to read it. I even reviewed it earlier in the year -- once again, you know where to find it. I find it difficult to articulate how much I love this book; I’m a writer, and yet I adore this book so much, I can’t put it into words. This masterpiece, self-published in 2011, follows the obtusely optimistic astronaut Mark Watney, who, after a freak storm/accident leads his mission team to believe him dead, finds himself stranded alone on Mars and has to figure out how to survive with meagre supplies until the next mission team arrives… in four years. Luckily, Mark Watney isn’t the kind to lose his head in a crisis. This novel has everything. It has suspense. (I was literally sweating and shaking while reading the final act.) It has science. It has brilliant comedic value for a man whose prospects are so dire. It has SPACE. I loved everything about this book, from the characters to the amazing scientific accuracy to the storyline to the fact that it’s set in space, and space is amazing. The Martian is so funny and engaging and hopeful, delightful on every single page, and I can say with absolute certainty that not only is it, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the best book I read this year; it’s one of the best books I’ve ever read in my life. I would recommend this book to literally anyone. Please just read it. I promise you need this book in your life.
HONOURABLE MENTIONS
- Yes Please by Amy Poehler
- Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee
- Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton
- The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
- Saga, written by Brian K. Vaughan, illustrated by Fiona Staples
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