I read The Secret Barrister: Stories of the Law and How It's Broken in February (you can check out my review here), and enjoyed it enough to add Fake Law: The Truth About Justice in an Age of Lies to my to-read list.



Fake Law is interested in myth-busting. Focusing on some of the biggest legal stories of recent years, this book shows time and again how society's ignorance of the law makes us vulnerable to misinformation from the media and the government. The Secret Barrister writes for a general audience, and Fake Law, like The Secret Barrister, is accessible and engaging. The author's passion for their subject is evident, and The Secret Barrister's acerbic wit makes the book. Fascinating, enraging, and highly concerning, Fake Law is an important and timely book that is definitely worth reading.

I continued to make my way through this year's Women's Prize longlist, in April, with Nothing But Blue Sky by Kathleen MacMahon.



This is a character-driven book, which nonetheless has a clear storyline, set against a vividly imagined backdrop, and peopled with realistic characters. These are all things I love in a book. I especially love the characters Kathleen MacMahon has created, and I was repeatedly able to recognise facets of myself and others I know in them. Nothing But Blue Sky is a somewhat slow book; one to spend time with rather than rush through, but it is also an engaging book, and definitely worth your time.

You can find out what I thought about all the nominated books I've read so far here.

My next read was The Prophets by Robert Jones Jr., which was only published at the start of the year.



The Prophets is, at its heart, the love story of two enslaved men. But in telling this story, Robert Jones Jr. encompasses the voices of a whole cast of characters on the plantation, slave and slaver alike, as well as the voices of their ancestors. I particularly loved the chapters which brought to life the Kosongo people. The Prophets is certainly an ambitious book, but also a successful one. Despite the amount of perspectives it encompasses, the story never loses its cohesion. All the characters are vividly brought to life, and I was impressed by how sympathetically Jones Jr. portrays each character's viewpoint. I felt myself wanting to side with each character as they told their story. Words fail me as I try to describe the spiritualism which imbues this novel, so you will simply have to read it for yourself to experience Jones Jr.'s lyrical writing and epic imagination. I look forward to seeing what he writes next.

I chose The First Woman by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi next, because it was shortlisted for this year's Jhalak Prize.



The First Woman is a coming-of-age story, set in Uganda during Idi Amin's dictatorship. What makes this story special is the way it blends the familiar and the unfamiliar. I love the way Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi writes about gender; the way she interrogates the myths and misconceptions that belong to her story's setting, but are still recognisable as part of our world today.

You can find out what I thought about all the nominated books I've read so far here.

Next up was The Girl in the Spider's Web by David Lagercrantz, which continues the Millennium series.



The Girl in the Spider's Web continues the Millennium series with a new story, with links to the previous book. All the old favourites are back, and David Lagercrantz does a good job of reminding us who's who and what's what, without boring the reader with repetitions. This is a highly readable book, which I was reluctant to put down. Not essential reading for lovers of the original trilogy, but a solid, page-turning thriller, bound to please fans of Lisbeth Salander.

I finally got round to reading Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders this month, after hearing such great reviews.



I liked the conceit of this one; the setting felt fresh and interesting, and I particularly liked the way George Saunders wrote about not being ready to accept your own death. Once I got used to it, I also liked the writing style, which mimics an academic format of writing. I particularly liked the effect this had on the chapters describing events, as if through historical sources, but I think the format worked less well for the chapters in the so-called Bardo. In the latter, the character's name being cited only at the end of their speech sometimes made it difficult to follow, and envisage, the story. Lincoln in the Bardo didn't blow me away, but it nevertheless did justice to its many rave reviews.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy by John le Carré was another one that had been on my to-read list for too long.



I put off reading John le Carré several times, because I was unsure about (what I understood to be) the Cold War setting. However, I found Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy to be a very engaging, and surprisingly accessible, book. This one is worth reading for its content, as much as for its reputation as a 'classic'. I loved the way Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was written, especially the visceral way le Carré sets his scenes. I don't know whether I will return to George Smiley (and Karla), but I do think I will return to John le Carré.

I ticked off another classic this month, and read A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess.



The language takes some getting used to, but I found that the story was always clear, and I quite enjoyed the process of becoming familiar with the invented slang. I thought it was interesting that the story is told from the perspective of a villain, and I liked the way this played into the main character's lack of empathy. A Clockwork Orange explores some interesting ideas, and I'm glad to have finally ticked it off my to-read list.

The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry was another one I had heard great things about, but not yet found the time to read.



The Essex Serpent is, more or less, the gothic novel I was expecting - beautifully written, with impressive historical detail, an engaging plot, and interesting characters. But Sarah Perry's bold questioning of the period's assumptions and expectations makes the story feel fresh and new. I love the way Perry writes an authentically historical novel, which is nonetheless invested in modern ideas. I love her boldness in exposing the period's (and often our own) hypocrisies.

My next read was another one from the Jhalak Prize shortlist: My Darling from the Lions by Rachel Long.



My Darling from the Lions feels like a very personal collection of poetry; not just exploring issues close to Rachel Long's heart, but also building up a consistent sense of her family. I like, in this context, that Long shows self-awareness in her poems; I especially enjoyed the poems where she is observed sleeping, and we see how her opinion of herself differs from that of an outsider. I also like the sense of humour which shines through her writing. I have no doubt that everyone will come at these poems from a slightly different place, and have their own favourites for their own reasons. I think it's a strength of My Darling from the Lions that this is the case.

Eimear McBride was an author I'd heard a lot about but hadn't found the time to try for myself, so I chose to read The Lesser Bohemians next.



Eimear McBride's writing style took some getting used to, and I was never fully convinced by what it was achieving. Once I did get used to it, I fell into a comfortable reading rhythm. There is lots to like about this story, which is focused on the first sexual relationship of a young drama student, and there are moments when, writing about raw emotions or physicality, the writing style makes perfect sense. Both characters have a history of abuse, and I was less convinced by the section which simply describes his experiences with abuse and addiction. I'm glad to have finally read something from McBride, although I find it unlikely that I will read anything else by her.

After this came one from the International Booker Prize shortlist, When We Cease to Understand the World by Benjamín Labatut.



When We Cease to Understand the World is a fascinating and highly readable book, which is a work of fiction but based on real life. The book is separated into sections, but is remarkable for its coherence. I loved the way this one was written; it felt like someone telling me a story, and the craftsmanship is such that I could just sit back and watch as everything fell into place. Benjamín Labatut draws connections and parallels within and between the sections, and always seems to end in exactly the right place. I practically read this book in one sitting, and am tempted to start all over again right away.

I finally read my first Virginia Woolf this month, with Mrs. Dalloway.



I expected Mrs Dalloway to follow its eponymous character through the day on which this novel is set, so I was excited when the narrator first moved away from her to alight on another character. However, when I realised that it was the same group of characters the narrator moves between, my excitement lessened. It remains an interesting idea, and I liked the sense of everydayness which Woolf captures, as well as the way she presents people as ultimately alone, despite their myriad connections. But I wasn't fully convinced by the writing style, which I found a little tiresome. I'm glad to have finally read something by Virginia Woolf, and To the Lighthouse remains on my to-read list, but I didn't enjoy Mrs Dalloway as much as I would have liked to.

My next read was another classic, The Time Machine by H.G. Wells, which I was curious to read as someone with an interest in science-fiction.



I didn't know what to expect from The Time Machine, and I enjoyed it all the more for it. I enjoyed the crisp style of writing, and I loved the format the story is told in as much as the story itself. Innovative, exciting, and (at only 99 pages) definitely worth a read!

Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid is another book I had heard only good things about, but hadn't found time to read before this month.



I completely understand why so many people enjoyed Daisy Jones and The Six. It is the story of a fictional, legendary rock band, set in 60s and 70s California, and told through interviews with the surviving band members and their friends/family. The concept of telling a fictional story as if it is non-fiction is one that often appeals to me, and I think the playfulness works really well here. I like the way Taylor Jenkins Reid plays with unreliable narrators, without overdoing it. Daisy Jones and The Six is pure escapism, and I was always reluctant to stop reading.