If it's not an imposition I'd be really interested to hear about your other favourite authors? I found Hilary Mantel (and possibly a few others?) through your Tumblr + I know you have great taste
Oh wow, thanks! I'm still recovering from my surgery, and today the pain killers seem to work a bit less well than yesterday, so I can really use some cheering up!
My current favourites, in no particular order:
Susanna Clarke. Is there anything she can't do? Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell was such a doorstopper, and Piranesi is the height of narrative economy. I'm still utterly enchanted. It's a hymn to scientific inquiry without ever playing it out against myth, art, faith and ritual, a sort of Anti-Robinsonade - here too, we have someone torn out of his own world, having to survive in strange surroundings, entirely left to their own devices, but while Robinson aims to conquer, Piranesi just wants to understand/connect. One of the most likeable protagonists I've encountered in all of literature in quite a while. And the vibes are impeccable. I think Susanna Clarke is always so good at setting the scene, she has a knack for killer imagery, and always hits the right note with the prose style. It's never just style for its own sake, it's always in service of getting you in the right frame of mind for the story.
Lucia Berlin. Wrote mostly short stories with an autobiographical bent. And what a life she had! Very adventurous, upwardly and downwardly socially and geographically mobile, a true bohemian. Reading Lucia Berlin always makes me feel like I need to travel more (definitely) and get some divorces (a bit). (What it actually made me do, was go back into teaching. Lucia Berlin had a lot of jobs - one of her short story collections is called A Manual for Cleaning Women, and one of those jobs was teaching). Her life was often hard (traumatic childhood, dysfunctional parents, sexual assaults, addiction, health problems…), at times brutal - I mean, one thing reading her definitely didn't inspire in me is any curiosity about drugs - at times glamorous and exhilarating, sure, but the lows are very low. She has so many awful encounters and yet never closes herself off to connection, completely clear-eyed about the pain it might bring. Even when she takes you to the depths of despair, she never numbs to her surroundings; she has an eye for the beauty in hell.
Shirly Jackson. I'm not usually a great reader of horror, but I will always make an exception for Shirly Jackson. Another great one for narrative economy. Maximal emotional punch for minimal word count. Great at exposing the blood curdling menace in convention. Honestly, I don't think I could stand it, if I had more of an inclination towards social anxiety, but even so, I think she'll hit anyone who's ever ended up on the wrong side of a group dynamic, and who hasn't? At times deceptively charming, delightfully excentric, cosily conventional, strangely seductive, to better set you up for betrayal, guaranteed to haunt you, long after you've closed the book.
Marlen Haushofer. Maybe I am a bit of a reader of horror after all? It's a fairly similar sort of horror too - the slow poison of corruption through civilization - but usually without explicit supernatural elements (the exception being The Wall, probably her most famous novel anyway). I discovered her as a kid - she also wrote quite a bit for children - and then got majorily back into her during the lockdowns, when she seemed to me like the writer of the hour. I wrote about that at some length here.
Jennifer Egan. She always does something that interests me. Maybe it's a bit of formal metafictional playfulness - I thought the powerpoint chapter in A Visit from the Goon Squad was actually the most moving chapter, definitely not just a gimmick to me (but maybe the sibling dynamic just hits a button for me) - maybe it's just her choice of topic. Look at Me is a downright visionary novel about the rise of influencers on social media, written before Facebook and Insta and the costs and benefits of erotic capital, something which I of course would only know from books and therefore find reasonably fascinating (also a bit about terrorism, written before 9/11, but I found that sublot less compelling); Manhattan Beach is about the first female diver at the Brooklyn Naval Ward, getting drawin into the New York demi-monde while investigating the disappearance of her father during World War II. She's sometimes criticized for writing a bit too much with an eye to effect (the metafictional stuff can be read as pretentious; Manhattan Beach is going for Grande Cinema), but I like that about her. I think you can alway count on Jennifer Egan to find an illuminating angle.
George Eliot. I usually don't have strong opinions about shipping, but "Dorothea/ Ladislaw OTP" is one of the topics I could improvise an hour-long lecture on at the slightest provocation. It's also why I have eternal beef with Henry James, who apparently went on record claiming that Middlemarch would have been a better novel if Dorothea had ended up with Lydgate. (Can you imagine? How hard can anyone miss the point? Might as well say Peggy should have ended up with Don.) I also don't usally worry much about spoilers, because I'm not generally in it for the plot twists. But George Eliot is a case where I really make a point of going in unspoilt. I think she's just the best at leading her characters towards genuinely difficult choices, and even if it's quite clear, what the right choice would be, making you quite unsure if the character can make it, or if it came to that, if you could. My one quibble with her is that I think she has a very weird idea of what makes one suited for a career in politics, but maybe I'm just too jaded.
George R.R. Martin. This started out as an ASOIAF-fanblog; it would be weird not to mention him. It's also a bit weird to mention him though - there was a period in my life when I was positively obsessed with ASOIAF, true, but I feel zero inclination to read anything else by George R.R. Martin. Not because he's a bad writer or because I resent him for not finishing the series - I clearly think he's highly skilled; I could not put up with subpar prose over so many pages, and I can live with unfinished work - it's just not usually my genre, and I feel that the special circumstance that contributed to my ASOIAF-obsession cannot be repeated. First, the series got some hype when there was talk of a TV-show, and I actually sometimes like jumping on a bandwagon. I just rarely do, because they're usually not my speed. But this one turned out to be, and I was excited at an opportunity to join the water-cooler conversation. And then I kinda got in too deep, because I was just working on my second thesis, and was desperately procrastinating.
This probably sounds like me being overly defensive. It's hard nowadays not to feel a bit like a sucker as an ASOIAF-fan. We know there's not much of a chance Martin will ever finish the series, and we know how the show turned out. No one has much sympathy for the disappointment - the general tenor seems to be: What did you expect? It was always this stupid. I agree that there's much I dislike about the show that's actually already there in the novels (eg. gratituous sexual violence, half-heartedly rationalized by the pseudo-historicity) and I won't defend that.
But let me go on record here, I really don't think it was always this stupid. It had interesting things to say about chivalry, honor, different leadership styles, forms of social organisation, family dysfunction, dealing with trauma, propaganda, the power of narratives, institutional failure, collective action, risk management, the cost of lies. It had multi-dimensional, psychologically plausible, dynamic characters. It had tons of forshadowing, and carefully constructed set-ups, and well-executed pay-offs. It had the most shocking twists, that still felt inevitable. And I think Martin has a really good ear for dialogue - eg. he has more than one way to make a character sound witty (something writers of witty characters often seem to struggle with; everyone just ends up the same kind of snarky, which quickly grates on me) - eg.Tyrion's wit is different from Olennas, and even Stannis has a blink-and-you-miss it dry sort of wit. Martin also has that Dickensian knack for distinguishing characters through speech patterns and catch phrases, which is a bit gimmicky, but hey, it works. And you need all the tricks at your disposal with such a huge cast. He was (maybe intermittently still is) trying to do something very ambitious, and I will always admire him for that, even if he likely never pulls it off.
