Books in 2024

and cheers to all we'll read in 2025

This year in reading for me was marked by the fact that when my computer died earlier this year, requiring a new hard drive, I lost my books-read lists for the last few years, as well as some writing. Perhaps strangely, I miss those lists most; I feel like I can re-write the other. There’s a chance I may be able to recover some of my data, but as of yet that’s hypothetical. I miss not being able to go and look over it.

With that said, here are the things I read this year that have stuck with me, list or no list:

The Undiscovered Deaths of Grace McGill, by C. S. Robertson, which came to me from the wonderful gathering of crime writers that is Bloody Scotland, was a stand-out. One of those stories that pulls something out of its hat at the end that makes you question everything you thought you knew.

This year, I read a lot of science fiction/fantasy stories online, and I discovered some new-to-me authors, two of whose books I tracked down and were some of the most enjoyable of the year: Under the Whispering Door by T. J. Clune and The House of Shattered Wings by Aliette De Bodard. They couldn’t be more different in story and style, but both took me somewhere I hadn’t been before. I admire authors who can make unbelievable worlds believable—and make you care.

Guarded by Dragons: Encounters with Rare Books and Rare People by Rick Gekoski was a delightful read: lots of obscure bookish details, insider gossip, by a self-deprecating but extremely intelligent writer. It’s the sort of book that made me want to become a rare book dealer, except as I know I won’t, I enjoyed very much the insider perspective and feeling as if I could. Trying on other lives.

Born a Crime by Trevor Noah was a surprise, a delight, and an education in turn. There were so many little things that challenged me or tweaked my perspective—and of course, funny to boot. A worthwhile read.

I went into Catfish and Mandala: A Two-Wheeled Voyage Through the Landscape and Memory of Vietnam by Andrew X. Pham¹ expecting a travel book of sorts. It is a travel book, but interspersed with it is a journey of another sort, into the past, with an honesty that ran deep. It says something that by the end those chapters looking into his and his family’s history became more compelling than the travel narrative. This book surprised me in several ways, and I won’t forget it.

The last book I read in 2024 was Orbital, by Samantha Harvey. It’s about six people on the International Space Station over a single day, and beyond that I didn’t know what to expect. Despite being rather loosely structured, I found sections of it surprisingly readable. Honestly, I don’t know if I would have stuck with if if it had been a door-stopper. It’s a read that demands all your focus. By which I don’t mean that it’s complicated or opaque, the information is all there and clearly presented, there’s just a lot of it coming at you. I imagine someone with a science background would experience it differently, but it took focus for me. As it is, it’s a small book with beautiful writing that gave me insight into a world I knew little about; it was thought-provoking in places. But mostly, it makes the list because of passages like this:

The earth, from here, is like heaven. It flows with colour. A burst of hopeful colour. When we’re on that planet we look up and think heaven is elsewhere, but here is what the astronauts and cosmonauts sometimes think: maybe all of us born to it have already died and are in an afterlife. If we must go to an improbable, hard-to-believe in place when we die, that glassy, distant orb with its beautiful lonely light shows could well be it.

Finally, Parsi: From Persia to Bombay: Recipes & Tales from the Ancient Culture by Farokh Talati joined my cookbook collection in 2024, thanks to a friend! While I’ve not read it through yet (and I sometimes do with cookbooks), it’s such a lovely book—both detailed and accessible—and I’m looking forward to cooking from it in the new year.

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That’s it from me, Marv and I wish you a wonderful, happy, peaceful 2025. Thank you for reading Kathmandu Alley Cat; I know there’s a lot out there on the internet so I don’t take it for granted.

I’d love to hear what your books-of-the-year were, too, so comment or drop a link below, and here’s to all we’re going to read in 2025—cheers!

1. Not in the picture because I don’t have it anymore.