People on Twitter this past week1 have been discussing, dunking on, and otherwise mocking the New York Times’ 100 Best Books of the 21st Century for many reasons. In part, because it’s called “100 Best Books of the 21st Century” and we’re halfway through 2024. We’re a quarter of the way there. But also, any time you start talking about books, questions of power, representation, and access come in to it. Those questions are valid, but other than mentioning them right now, I’m going to move past them for now.
Because books are good, books are important, and even if we miss out on some perspectives and people’s experiences by missing those books, reading means we’re getting more of those perspectives and experiences than we were getting locked in our own head. So reading through the New York Times list, no matter what its flaws, has gotten me thinking about reading and definitely wanting to read more.
Because one thing reading through this list has done is make me realize how important books have been in my life while at the same time underlining how little I read these days.
I have more books than I’ve ever had before—nine full Ikea Billy bookshelves filled with books2, and a Kindle loaded up with them as well—but that’s a measure of money and time. The actual number of books I read per year is at the lowest in my literate life—I'm reading fewer books now than I read when I was five. In my 20s I aimed to read a book a week. In 2024 I’m on track for a book a month. Illness, Twitter, politics, video games, YouTube, TV, and the fact that I no longer commute to work all contribute to this.
With all that in mind, I’m attempting to rededicate myself to reading more, because it’s saved my life and sanity when I was young, changed my perspective and gave myself the ability to understand and empathize with people, and filled my life with joy. And, of course, the news every day is so intensely awful and overwhelming that I can hardly bear to experience it. This is precisely what books are for.
With that in mind, I went through my Goodreads account and my bookshelves and forged my own list of the best books of the 21st Century so far. I actually did ok on the NY Times list—I’ve read exactly a quarter of them (and own another ten that I’ve been intending to read, like anyone who owns books). There’s some crossover here, but here are, in a very loose order, my 20 favorite books of the 21st Century; in a loose order of preference.
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke: When I first read this I would try selling it to people as “If Jane Austen wrote Harry Potter,” which was a decent way to sell it back before we realized what a shit JK Rowling was. Also it’s not exactly right, but the wry and wonderful narrative voice, with hilarious footnotes and a knowing tone, telling a story of magic creeping back into the world, is certainly one of the greatest novels of the century so far. It’s a long read—especially back when we had to carry our books everywhere—but a wonderful one.
Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides: It’s been 20 years since I read this so I don’t remember specifics, but I do remember that I really loved the narrator, really wanted them to succeed and thrive, and also loved the historical sweep of their family throughout the past century, from Smyrna to all over America.
Circe, by Madeline Miller: The Song of Achilles could also very easily be on here, but Miller’s retelling of Greek mythology is just so adept, turning them into well-rounded characters while still retaining the mythology: these are gods and demigods still, but they are also human.
Atonement, by Ian McEwan: The rug-pull at the end of Atonement fucked me up in all the best ways, and really is one of the greatest examples about how fiction brings people alive.
John Dies at the End, by Jason Pargin (though originally published under the pseudonym David Wong): John Dies at the End is a horror novel with one of the best comedic voices of any books I’ve read. It’s very off-kilter, and fun and horrifying in equal measures. There are now four books in the series, and they’re up and down as far as plot goes, but sentence by sentence are some of the most enjoyable books I’ve read. Pargin also has a sci-fi series which I’ve inexplicably not completely caught up on.
Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel: This book is deservedly acclaimed, and I love it and the sequels. Thomas Cromwell is such a loveable and wondrous character.
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger: There was a time where you would see a half dozen copies of this book on every subway car, and I resisted it for a long time as a result, but this is just such an affecting and lovely sci-fi romance and I refuse to see any of the adaptations of it.
Accelerando by Charles Stross: The best sci fi of the century so far—a sprawling and prescient series of connected short stories about the near future and the far future and how we get between them.
Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell: Come on now, we’ve all read this by now. It’s so good isn’t it?
The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen: I read this when it came out and it was issued to all New Yorkers. I remember loving it, especially the hapless character Chip. I identified with him. I imaging rereading the book now would tell me a lot about myself then, and probably still a lot about myself now.
Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin: This is a book about friends and all the way we hurt each other deeply and fail to connect with the people that we love. It’s also a book about games, play, art, stories, loss, and chronic pain. Of course I loved it.
The Shining Girls by Lauren Beukes: The Shining Girls is a serial killer time travel story. Let’s get that out of the way. But it’s not about the serial killer. Murderers aren’t actually all that interesting. It’s about the amazing women, throughout history, and the things that make them shine bright. This killer is drawn towards them and kills some of them, but this is a story about strong women. Not strong women in the action hero sort of way, but in the real way that the women we know are strong: they are sometimes proud, vain, empathetic, motivated, and damaged, each in their own way, and the book takes its time with each of them to breathe life into them and fight back.
Life After Life by Kate Atkinson: Let me just say that this book is great and shows what it takes to live a life and all the choices that bring us somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. Oh, and let me also say it starts with the protagonist killing Hitler.
The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet by David Mitchell: I do not remember the plot of this at all. I do remember that it was great, and involves magic and Japan and that it made me feel alive.
Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel: A great plague, and afterwards, people help each other and try to rebuild, and try to live lives filled with joy and art and reclaim everything. This is not The Road—it feels filled with people, not metaphors about man’s inhumanity to each other.
Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang: Not every story in this is great, but there are great stories in here, especially the title one, which was adapted into the movie Arrival. Chiang is one of our greatest sci fi short story writers and everything of his is worth reading.
The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead: the enormity of what Whitehead manages to cram into this book about slavery and the ongoing every present stain across America from it is truly astonishing, and doing it in a book that is actually entertaining is a hell of an achievement.
Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney: Whichever Sally Rooney book you read first is the one you’re going to love, and for my wife it was Normal People. Conversations with Friends is for me the better love story—in a modern sense. Her characters self-sabotage and don’t say what they’re thinking and let things slip away and then try to make it up and it feels so intensely and utterly real and lived in like these are the people you are, were, or could be.
Fingersmith by Sarah Waters: I’m not sure how much of the plot of this I can remember or explain. Let’s just say that this is basically Charles Dickens crossed with the movie Bound and its all the better for it.
All Grown Up by Jami Attenberg: Like Salley Rooney I know everyone in this book, from being in my 20s and 30s and early 40s, and friends getting married, and all of us dating, and all of us wanting to live up to our potential, and very few of us doing so, and still having to muddle through nonetheless with life and love and relationships.
The Broken Earth Trilogy (The Fifth Season, The Obelisk Gate, and The Stone Sky) by NK Jemisin: This is kind of fudging the numbers because it’s a trilogy, but this is a monumental work of world-building and writing, and deservedly won all the awards.
Note, I started writing this before other events took over Twitter, and I stopped going to Twitter.
and tchotchkes