Showing posts with label bossypants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bossypants. Show all posts

Friday, December 30, 2011

What were your favorite books of 2011?

Sometimes, my favorite books are the ones I never would have chosen myself. Take Thomas Hardy’s “Jude the Obscure.”

When my book club picked the novel last year, I gritted my teeth and began reading out of duty, not desire. But I ended up loving Hardy’s indictment of Victorian society and his colorful, flawed characters, especially Arabella Donn, a tarty barmaid who would fit in perfectly on several current reality TV series.

So, my humble advice: Try some books in this new year that aren’t your typical picks. To get you started, I’m listing a few books I particularly enjoyed in 2011:

“Zeitoun,” by Dave Eggers. In this nonfiction work, Abdulrahman Zeitoun, a Syrian-American and father of four, chooses to ride out Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans to protect his house and business. Equipped with a canoe, he paddles flooded streets, rescuing people and feeding stranded pets – until he’s mistaken for a terrorist and imprisoned.

This spectacular piece of reporting makes our government look pretty awful. The New York Times has predicted that in 50 years, “when people want to know what happened to this once-great city during a shameful episode of our history, they will still be talking about a family named Zeitoun.”


“Bossypants,” by Tina Fey. A memoir by one of America’s finest comedians, complete with dorky childhood photos. Plus, you get Fey’s “A Mother’s Prayer for Her Daughter,” already an Internet classic. It begins: “First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither the Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.”

“Black Swan Green,” by David Mitchell. Known best for experimental novels like “Cloud Atlas,” Mitchell offers a semiautobiographical coming-of-age story in this rich, poignant novel. Thirteen-year-old Jason Taylor, who lives in England in the early 1980s, must endure an adolescence made particularly miserable by his stammer, which, he says, “makes me shrivel up like a plastic wrapper in a fire.”

“When Parents Text,” by Sophia Fraioli and Lauren Kaelin. This collection of texts sent by parents to their teenaged and young-adult children is sometimes touching, always hilarious.Two examples:

Mom: My fingers are saying words. This is amazing.
Dad: You could poop in your pants in the yankee candle store and no one would know.

On that intriguing thought, I’ll end. Happy New Year, and happy reading.

What was your favorite read of 2011, and why? Leave a comment here and let me know.