Read about forty books* this year, which isn’t bad. I try to read every day – the second most important part of the job of being a writer is reading widely – but unfortunately I am also human. As a human, I’ve been bio-hacked by the addictive algorithms of social media, and the Internet more broadly, like everyone, so these distractions absorb chunks of time spent in better ways. Such as reading, or writing, or talking to real humans (rather than polarised caricatures), or playing with my sons, or staring into space while I think about snacks.
Another distraction – though more justifiable than the bullshit on the Internet – is streaming services and movies. My favourite shows of the year were: Cobra Kai (Season 5), Dune, Everything Everywhere All At Once, Top Gun: Maverick, The Expanse (Season 6), Time, The First, Severance, Slow Horses, The Boys (Season 3), Alone, and Andor.
The best two programs, for me, were Severance (a Philip K Dickian concept about splitting memory into two, though with fully-formed characters and excellent writing), and The Boys (continuing its reign as the best corporate satire on television).
As I have said in previous years, it takes a conscious effort to consume popular culture from outside of the United States. Such is the leviathan of the American entertainment industry, that even here in Australia we are swamped by American voices, ideas, and ways of understanding the world. And the further problem is that so many American books and programs also happen to be extremely good. Of course, the same can be said for The Rest of The World, but even cyberpunk radicals like myself sometimes lose the battle against convenience. The American stuff is ubiquitous, and stuffed down our throats. Open up, zombies.
I usually read as much as I can from Southeast and East Asian authors and settings, and I failed on that count this year. I did read a lot more Australian books, however, which was long overdue. After reading very little dark fantasy (or any fantasy) in recent years, I consumed quite a lot over 2022, in part to see what the sub-genre was up to creatively.
In a vague order, these are my books of the year. The Fatal Shore was my favourite, Roadside Picnic my least favourite of the favourites. Everything in between are somewhat interchangeable in terms of order.
1. The Fatal Shore (1988), by Robert Hughes (Australian)
Extraordinary, epic history of convict Australia. Hughes is an excellent writer, his prose trenchant and always readable, as he explores one of the very darkest chapters of Australia’s past. The treatment of convicts was barbaric and sadistic, and at its worst constituted both slavery and an extended form of torture, especially in the gulags of Norfolk Island, Macquarie Harbour, Moreton Bay, and others.
As an Australian descended from convicts, I thought I was across this history, and I was wrong. I read a lot of ‘Grimdark’ fantasy this year, and yet The Fatal Shore was by far the grimmest and darkest of the lot.
2. Leviathan Wakes (2011), by James S. A. Corey (American)
Sometimes you just want to read a good book. A safe pair of hands, immaculate world-building a set up that pays off. This year that book was Leviathan Wakes. I’ve watched the TV series, and liked it very much. Finally got around to reading the first in the series, and glad that I did.
3. The Cry of the Owl (1962), by Patricia Highsmith (American)
I’ve never read Patricia Highsmith before (one of the few gaps in my noir reading experience), and I’m kicking myself for taking this long. In short, The Cry of the Owl (admittedly, not a very memorable title) is about Robert Forester, who we are introduced to as a prowler. He’s not a peeping tom – he doesn’t watch women in the bath – but he is a damaged and depressed man who watches a woman at night through her kitchen window, because her (seemingly) ideal life makes him happy.
Which doesn’t sound like a likable protagonist, but actually turns out to be, especially in comparison to the venal, vindictive, and menacing cast around him (bizarrely, Highsmith was herself a stalker). Like any good noir, The Cry of the Owl has engaging existential undertones, with two of the main characters questioning the nature of existence and the purpose of being, though not in a mannered or didactic way.
4. The Blacktongued Thief (2021), by Christopher Buehlman (American)
In some ways this is a classic dungeons and dragons fantasy novel – a rogue, a fighter, and a mage go on an adventure. But in many more ways, such a descriptor does not do it justice. Buehlman is an excellent prose stylist with an inventive way of phrasing and description. I will probably seek out his other works
5. The Justice of Kings (2022), by Richard Swan (British)
Richard Swan’s debut fantasy novel, and a surpassingly accomplished one. Richard is a lawyer by profession, and that expertise shows in the novel, whose protagonist – Sir Konrad Vonvalt – is an investigator, prosecutor, and judge, all in one. This may bring to mind Judge Dredd yelling “I am the law,” and shooting someone in the face, but it isn’t quite that. Think more Sherlock Holmes, with a volatile temper, sharp sword, and limited – if effective – magical powers.
I found the central mystery engaging, and the broader political machinations credible and well-drawn.
6. Eucalyptus (1998), by Murray Bail (Australian)
Re-read. A great Australian fable. Stories within stories within stories, set in the bush. Glad I went back to it.
7. The Song is You (2007), by Megan Abbott (American)
This was the first book I read this year, so don’t remember much of it, other than it was as hardboiled as you’d expect from Megan Abbott, with a series of satisfying twists and turns.
8. Cutters End (2021), by Marg Hickey (Australian)
Excellent debut crime novel. Set against the socio-economic decline of rural Australia, our soft-boiled protagonist Detective Mark Ariti investigates a cold case murder in a small country town. Looming in the background is the legacy of domestic violence, which for so long was surrounded by a conspiracy of silence in this country.
9. The Grey Bastards (2015), by Jonathan French (American)
This a wonderfully dirty, wild, and raucous fantasy novel. The protagonists are half-orcs, and behave precisely how a bunch of horny, cunning, and violent half-orcs should.
10. Roadside Picnic (1972), By Arkady & Boris Strugatsky (Russian)
It is sometimes hard to tell with translations whether certain weaknesses in the prose are the fault of the author or the translator. Nonetheless, this is one of those older science fiction novels that explores a fascinating idea: what if advanced alien civilization had a ‘roadside picnic’ on Earth? What if – apparently thinking human civilization not worth contacting, or even
thinking about – had left behind technology (or is it trash?), of enormous power and mystery.
This novel was adapted into the cult classic film ‘Stalker’ by Andrei Tarkovsky.
That’s all. I’ll aim to read fifty books in 2023, but probably won’t. I’ll hope to win various novel prizes for 36 Streets, but almost certainly won’t. I will try to have a new novel out next year, plus a couple of new short stories.
All the best to you and yours in the year to come. Make sure you read a lot of books, grow your to-read pile, and talk about them whenever you can.
Cheers, T. R. Napper
*Plus around 30 graphic novels as a judge for the Aurealis Awards, which I have not included in the total.