Being a bookworm from a young age, I read as the mood takes me, across a wide variety of genres: literary fiction, memoir, historical fiction and non-fiction, travel books, short stories, thrillers and crime. I have now arrived at an age where, if a book does not draw me in, I abandon it. So many books, so little time…And it has long ago ceased being homework. I read to be entertained, but also to be drawn into different worlds.
Into this last category come atmospheric books, such as the Booker Prize shortlisted Stone Yard Devotional, set in a religious community, or the winner, Orbital, set in space. The pace can be slow, but it is a delight to find oneself in a place one will never visit. The opposite of a thriller or police procedural, where you are waiting with bated breath to find out whodunnit.
Occasionally, though, I come across a book where the plot does not matter, because the writing itself is so beautiful that I relish every sentence. I have lately, by coincidence, read two books of that calibre: Held, by Anne Michaels and Light Years, by James Salter.
Anne Michaels is an award-winning poet, which is perceptible in this fragmented tale of four generations of women. It explores the trauma of loss and the impact of love, shifting between times and viewpoints. You get submerged in the power of language, which is simply exquisite—lyrical and vivid. Like poetry, like music.
The second book is the story of a marriage, between two people who have privilege, charm but also flaws.
It describes the brittleness of happiness, the chinks in the perfect facade, the pull between contentment and desire. The inability to enjoy what one has, the longing to escape, the lure of something different. Restlessness, unfocused dissatisfaction. Voices heard, details of clothing, music, food. Flashes of landscape, the beauty of nature, subtle thoughts and feelings. The prose is lucid, the style is impressionistic, flawless.
Neither of these books have much of a plot, and ultimately perhaps this is not enough. A few of the reviewers complain about this and of course, liking a book or not is entirely subjective. It also much depends on one’s mood. Occasionally, however, it is a joy to luxuriate in wonderful language, where every sentence is a asks to be re-read. I loved both books and highly recommend them.
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Letters from Athens 
I lean toward character driven stories than plot driven. The first book sounds interesting. I hope it’s at the library.
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As I was born an only child to career-driven older professional parents I too was a bookworm from a very early age . . . Mother had been the financial guru in Estonia’s biggest book publishing company and received an odd superannuation when she left – a copy of every fiction/ordinary non-fiction book published from then onwards- you can imagine our library! Dad, the head prosecutor of Estonia’s military court, would be preparing his cases at his table – little me sat on the floor reaching for what looked interesting from the shelves 🙂 ! Taught myself to read at 5 – we only went to primary school at 8, so !!! Managed the whole ‘War & Peace’ even if it took me some two years !!! Dad let me ‘grow up’ all by myself . . . asking him if I had a question! That was to work with bells on!
Must admit, at the other end of life now, reading your words has made me think, and think again . . . for quite a while I have felt fiction to be somewhat of a waste of remaining time . . . politics, economics and biographies have largely filled the bill with the odd political thriller finding its place . . . perhaps I should balance the available years somewhat better . . . 🙂 ? Perchance buying the Anne Michaels book as one of the ‘starting points’ ? Good wishes from Australia during a wild summer thunderstorm .. .
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Yes, the Michaels is worth trying. It’s also quite short, whereas the Salter does drag on a bit. I’m always open to new things—anyway, we have nothing to prove anymore, nor do we have to take a test! I have been reading histories of the Occupation in Greece, to fill in the gaps of what our parents did not tell us…Loved the image of you under the table—your parents sound cool. I was also allowed to browse at will. Xxx
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. . . histories of the Second War . . , being older than you I don’t have to read . . . was frighteningly there as a small kid all the way! A lot of ‘now’ friends say I should have written my own story – well, I have in a few compilations but somehow never thought I was ‘important enough’ to ‘bother ‘others with the horror years however well I remember them . . .
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I feel the same as you, Marina. If a book doesn’t capture me from the first chapter, I rarely go on to finish reading it. Sadly, that rarely happens these days.
Best wishes, Pete.
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In this too fast-paced world, reading beautiful prose is a pleasure.
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