My 2022 in books

stock image of a brown dog wearing glasses, an open book on a table in front of it

It’s been a good reading year for me. I managed to finish 53 books, with 2 more unfinished. Many of the 53 were audiobooks, often consumed in bed, while cooking, or while stretching muscles. Some required my rapt attention while others were shallow enough for me to be scrolling mindlessly while listening. But all of them were enlightening in a different way. Here’re my favourite reads of 2022.

  1. Toxic: The Rotting Underbelly of the Tasmania Salmon Industry, Richard Flannagan – non-fiction
    You can almost hear Flannagan despair at the transformation of his homeland. The Tasmanian author illustrates the realities of the farmed fish industry that keeps most of Australia fuelled every week. We learn about the intense and disgusting conditions of salmon farming, paired with gory details of what constitutes food for the fish we so desire. Brilliantly confronting.
  1. Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray: River of Dreams, Anita Heiss – historical fiction
    Sheer beauty—both the narrative and the setting. The tale of a woman’s connection to land, family, and the joys and challenges of fitting into a society unlike your own. This is a captivating read that explores the often unspoken elements of inter-racial friendships and relationships. Set in colonial Australia, it’s a good perspective into the lives and loves of people who made this country.
  1. Ballad of the Whiskey Robber: A True Story of Bank Heists, Ice Hockey, Transylvanian Pelt Smuggling, Moonlighting Detectives, and Broken Hearts, Julian Rubinstein – biography
    A gripping telling of the life and adventures of Attila Ambrus, a Transylvanian immigrant in Hungary. This is an outrageous and hilarious life story of a renowned ice hockey player, who’s had a range of oddly interesting jobs including gravedigger, church painter, building superintendent, and a bank robber. Oh, and he loves his whiskey. Reading this book is like watching a thriller TV series from the ‘70s. There’s humour, silliness, stupidity, and lots of running around. 
  1. The Brain that Changes Itself: Stories of Personal Triumph from the Frontiers of Brain Science and The Brain’s Way of Healing: Remarkable Discoveries and Recoveries from the Frontiers of Neuroplasticity, Norman Doidge – Science
    The most educational books I’ve read in a while. Lots of fascinating facts about the brain and its miraculous ability to retrain itself after what most people would consider irreversible damage. They stand as seperate books, and you don’t have to read one to understand the other. However, since I read both in that order, it helped connect them both better. The author explains how our brains are wired and how one portion of the brain can “learn” to compensate for another. Both books refer to medical journals on neuroscience, but they’re are written for the average reader with no medical knowledge or experience. You don’t even need to know the lobes of the brain to appreciate neuroplasticity. The second book brims with stories and anecdotes from people who’ve experienced neuroplasticity in their lives. Like the man with Parkinson’s Disease who controlled and nearly eliminated all his symptoms just by walking at a specific pace and routine. Absolutely worth your time, and both books will leave you craving more knowledge on the subject.
  1. On Eating Meat: The truth about its production and the ethics of eating it, Matthew Evans – non-fiction
    This is a no BS, no greenwashing book about the realities of being a meat lover in a society that’s increasingly meat conscious. A confronting book, you could say. Former food critic and chef, the author is now a farmer living in a large farm with his family and a few cows. Most of the book is self-referential, almost memoir-like. Evans outlines the evils of today’s meat farming industry, but also explains why vegans shouldn’t be the ones demanding to stop it. In a time where vegan activism is taking over the news, the author argues that meat eaters should be fighting for a better way of creating meat for humanity. It’s an interesting read—especially if you eat meat. This isn’t an attack on meat eaters or vegans. It’s an interesting examination of the way we exploit animals for cheap meat, diminishing their dignity and trivialising death. I’ve been vegan for almost 5 years, and I thoroughly enjoyed a meat-eater’s perspective on sustainable meat.
  1. Devotion, Hannah Kent – historical fiction
    If you’ve read anything by this author, you’ll know you can rely on her to rattle your core. Set in 1836, the story follows the protagonist, her family, and their village of Old Lutherans embarking on their journey from Prussia to Adelaide, South Australia. The first half is a vividly-beautiful illustration of the Prussian village, contrasted sharply in the second half, by the harshness of living in a sickly and overcrowded ship for months. This is the story of a young girl who loves and loses two great things in her life: the nature in her village and her best friend. At the time in colonial Australia, the first free-settlers were arriving in the country. South Australia is the only state in the country that wasn’t a penal colony, and so the arrival of European settlers is a big part of the state’s long and proud history. Beautiful writing—worth every moment.
  1. The Stranger, Kathryn More – dystopia
    For a fan of The Handmaid’s Tale and 1986, this book wasn’t hard to like. It’s set in a fictional town in the middle of nowhere where the teenage protagonist lives as the lover of the town’s leader/protector. Cut off from the rest of humanity, the people of this little town live in constant fear of the mystery illness that plagues the “outside”. A stranger rides into the town one day, challenging everything the townsfolk and our protagonist have ever known. Though Covid is never mentioned, you often get the feeling that this town’s story could’ve easily been the reality we escaped. This is described as a feminist book, but I think it’s also a clichéd narrative of feminism: gun-wielding woman teaches abusive men a lesson, empowers young girl. Still, the storyline is interesting and the setting is curious enough to read this book.
  1. Where the Crawdads Sing, Delia Owens – historical fiction
    Set in 1960s America. This is essentially a nature book. Such glorious descriptions of nature and the young girl who lives alone in the marsh. This is an interesting read because it’s a coming-of-age story, weaved in with a crime investigation. There’s a lot of sharp plot turns and twists to keep you entertained and wanting more. It’s also a fascinating idea to feature an independent main character who becomes an accomplished naturalist and creative, when all the world looks at her as an illiterate, naive, and vulnerable girl. I love a good strong female lead. There’s a hero, too, of course. He teaches her to read, falls in love with her and leaves her, only to come back and become the only one who stays by her. The romance is young, awkward, and silly, and so artfully portrayed. 
  1. Wild Abandon, Emily Bitto – literary fiction
    This book stayed with me a long time after I read it. It’s a raw depiction of a range of characters who’re the most human they can be. This is a study of human characteristics and how no one can know what or why someone does something. The story follows a young Australian who travels to the United States to get over his break-up, get some perspective, and enjoy himself. He meets eccentric people with uncommon hobbies, and ends up taking care of and feeding exotic animals in a veteran’s property. When all is said and done, he returns home a changed man. I love that the author has taken a storyline that’s already beaten to death, and has successfully revived it.
  1. Before You Knew My Name, Jacqueline Bublitz – fiction-thriller
    The 18-year-old protagonist moves to New York City to find a better life. She soon becomes Jane Doe—an unidentified body by the river. Another, slightly older woman, has also moved to NYC at the same time to recover and find a fresh start. Except, she’s the one who finds the body. The story follows the intertwining lives of the two women, uncovering the killer in the end. This is not a pleasant read. There’s a lot of trauma in the storyline. But it’s a well-told story that’ll make you feel things.

What’re your favourites of 2022?

The 1st of January

New year celebrations in Opera House, Sydney
Opera House, Sydney

While the rest of the world awed and dropped their jaws at the extravagance erupting from high-rise buildings, the fireworks prancing across the skies, and as the earth slowly wound its way towards midnight and crossed over, Australia was burning.

As waves of flame and smoke toppled over farms, bushland, helpless cattle, homes, cars, light poles, and traffic signals, the world’s tallest building, the Burg Khalifa in Dubai, was plastered across people’s social media feeds, it’s slender figure lighting up, plush, colourful streaks chasing their way to the top. It was the new year. It only made sense for everyone to celebrate the birth of a new decade.

Why even the Opera House in Sydney burst with bubbling joy and glory. To keep up with the tradition and the expectations, organisers had spent months mulling over creative ideas together, contemplating, creating, testing, and synthesising to put together a 15-minute show that the entire world would speak of for weeks.

However, amidst all of this hoopla, many Australians had to witness a lifetime’s worth of possessions and passions slip away through the cracks of nature’s devilish dance.

Since early August, bushfires have ravaged throughout New South Wales, and yesterday, with temperatures going up to 49-degree celsius, many small towns across Victoria were engulfed in the fires as well. Ghastly winds didn’t help, feeding the flames, testing volunteer firefighters, killing residents, and melting road signs. Major highways were closed. Zoos and wildlife sanctuaries turned to social media to recruit volunteers to host animals temporarily, and some of the wildlife we’ll never know the predicament of.

When new year’s eve came to a close, I was home watching and inhaling the smoke riding into Canberra on the wind. Overnight, many fire alarms in establishments in the city went off just from the smoke. The sun rose reluctantly, puffy and swollen with redness, searing through the orange cloud cover that’s now become the new normal. The air quality recorded this morning was 16 times more than the hazardous. As the day progressed, it grew to over 23 times more than safe breathing conditions.

About two years ago, before relocating, as I researched lifestyle here, my heart skipped every time I read an article or a Reddit thread broadcasting Canberra’s envious blue skies and expense of light. And now, I walk outside and feel my heart sink deep into the haze that clings to the peeling gumtrees, envelops the croaking cockatoos, and shatters dreams.

It’s a new year. I hope it’s not too horrible.


Photo credit: Twitter account of the City of Sydney.

Memories past

The day dawned bright 

On the east there was light 

Whilst the west, still shrouded

Wintry mist on streets crowded

awaited with breath bated—nigh

For their sun to tear through the sky

Why today, wondering she had to clench

End precious life, god heartless wretch

Clutching a sorrow note from a friend

Message of death, never can mend

from the west to all the way east

had travelled wretched beast

As the world was between years

Our lives were between worlds

Farewell old times, my friend

Cheers!

Red wine in a glass - happy new year

Food, booze, reflection

a night like any Friday

oh, happy new year

Of resolutions

Hot air balloons | Unspalsh.com

Every year around this time, everyone talks about one thing: new goals for the new year. And without a doubt, every time, we share big plans with others, spending an entire evening rambling and trying to prove to ourselves that we can achieve whatever we set our minds to.

Why do we do that, though?

Why do we have the urge to tell others, to share our life plans with external stakeholders, to allow them the power to hold or words against us when we fail?

It’s because we all feel the need to be accountable. Deep within us, we know that letting someone in on a secret or running an idea by them helps solidify it. The more the number of people know about our plan and agree with it, the stronger is the possibility of its success.

That’s why most of us inflict our most profound plans and ideas in the world, in the last few days of the year because new years are new beginnings.

I’ve never made a special New Year’s Resolution (or NYR as the text-speakers call it) because I don’t need the first of January to start working on something I care about. Any day is the beginning of a new year for me. I know what I want to do next week or next month, and what I want to achieve by the end of the year.

That said, sometimes I don’t know what I want to do this week. And that’s fine too. Perhaps I’ll go to work and see what challenges come at me.

It’s nice to have someone enquire how things are going and offer to help, but we needn’t force ourselves to figure out a goal so that we have something to say when it’s our turn.

“What’s your resolution for this year?” — That question is a mere conversation starter. Perhaps a good way to diffuse the tension around a family dinner table or at a boring work party.

Family and friends might wish us well when we tell them we want to lose 15 pounds. Or make a ton of money, or end debt, or work harder, or spend more time for personal wellness.

Beyond that, however, it doesn’t matter to other people what our resolution is or why we chose that one in particular.

But the idea of forming a plan, a proper outline for how I want the rest of my days to turn out is a lot of pressure. After all, no matter how much we plan and plan, life will throw surprises and disasters our way.

New Year’s resolutions are overrated. People make something up every year and promise to uphold it even if they know they won’t. New Year’s Eve isn’t about trying to think of something almost achievable that we don’t feel inadequate at the party later, but it’s more about reflecting on our mistakes from the previous year and learn never to make those mistakes again.

Real goals don’t sound like weak NYRs. Real goals are inclusive of the unfamiliar, respective of the uncontrollable, and realistic to the core.

Image source: Unsplash.com