As has become traditional on this blog, the last post of the year recaps my favorite books from the preceding 365 days.  I’ve finished 68 books this year, a little down on my usual pace.  My only excuse is that some of them took me longer to get through than I anticipated they would.  And life doesn’t always afford the time for reading you’d like, even for those of us who are intentional about it.  As for the books, it’s easiest to discuss them by category.  I read quite a few contemplative books this year that I quite needed to read.  They included Katherine May’s Enchantment, Brian Treanor’s excellent Melancholic Joy, Carlos Alberto Sánchez’s Blooming in the Ruins, and Viktor Frankl’s classic Man’s Search for Meaning.  These books underscore that thinking can be its own reward, and experiencing life is an opportunity for thought.  I should also add The Oxherd Boy by Regina Linke.

For general nonfiction, Ursula K. Leguin’s Steering the Craft was a good start.  Although older, I enjoyed Martin Tropp’s Mary Shelley’s Monster.  Although sobering, Peter Fleming’s Dark Academia: How Universities Die was an important read.  The Secret Life of a Cemetery by Benoît Gallot was also informative.  I do think my favorite nonfiction book for the year was J. W. Ocker’s Poe-Land.  Dan Sinykin’s Big Fiction was quite informative, a learning experience in its own right.  

The largest category for the year, overall, was fiction.  I’ve been trying to read more novels and most of them this year fit into dark academia.  My favorite among them was Mona Awad’s Bunny.  I see the sequel is out, but I’m waiting for it to be released in paperback.   Others that I quite enjoyed were Katy Hays’ The Cloisters, M. L. Rio’s If We Were Villains, Kazou Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go, Goldy Moldavsky’s The Mary Shelley Club, and Brittany Cavallaro’s A Study in Charlotte.  These represent quite a diversity of what dark academia can be.  Among the horror novels, The Bad Seed by William March is another older title, but still scary.  Kiersten White’s Hide and Julia Armfield’s Our Wives Under the Sea were both memorable.  Kanae Minato’s Confessions spanned dark academia and horror.  

None of this is meant to detract from the many other very good books I read this year, some by authors I know.  Looking back is a funny thing; some books seem to stand out for the impression they made.  This is quite individualized for each person, I’m sure.  I’m grateful to have been able to spend another year reading, and to all the authors I’ve read for providing the necessary ingredients.