In this new world, I confess to not always feeling brave. As I stride out onto the street, looking like a fashionable bandit with my colourful patterned mask snugly in place, I contemplate how all the things that previously gave me joy are gone, and are now instead filling me with prescribed avoidance. Even the term "social distancing" seems to be an oxymoron; how can we be sociable yet be far apart? We are social beings, and as we evolved as a society, we would huddle together in hamlets, villages, towns, cities and suburbs. Our built environment shows us this, yet we must remain apart, like the "Bubble Boy" in Seinfeld. All those walkers, joggers, cyclists, who come too close; they could each be an enemy rather than someone who, when the world was normal, I would grin at and greet.
But wait; did I say "...all the things which gave me joy are gone"? No; of course not all. And one thing which can't be taken away is the wealth of great, absorbing novels; novels which vicariously transport us to other lives at other times and in other places, and in so doing provide escape.
So I would like to share with you some novels which I have found particularly effective, and I'd love to hear from you as to what you would recommend in terms of novels which have really struck you. This way we can develop a Summer Reading List, and one that is perhaps more to be enjoyed than ever before.
Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed: This is a phenomenal book about family members' interactions, spanning generations, and showing how some have spanned out across the globe, sometimes ignorant of past connections which were torn apart when they were very young.
Gail Honeyman, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine: This is a novel told in the first person by Eleanor who has such a distinctive, quirky voice and awkward mannerisms, but gradually with the help of an unlikely coworker, Raymond, unravels the mystery of her past.
Catherine O'Flynn, What Was Lost: This is an unusual mystery, yet warm and witty, of the disappearance of a little girl who had set herself up with her toy monkey and a notebook, as a junior detective in a shopping mall.
Rose Tremain, The Road Home: This is the poignant story of a migrant from an Eastern European country to London, and the trials as well as funny episodes he experiences.
AnnTyler, Saint Maybe: Tyler's novels always involve quirky families living in Baltimore, and this one is no exception. But what makes this novel distinctive is the underlying ethical question about what should we, with good protective intentions, tell another family member who has no idea of a possible injustice being done to him, since this new knowledge could lead to terrifying unintended consequences.
Jhumpa Lahiri, The Namesake: This is an exquisitely and sensitively written novel about the immigrant experience of a couple, married by arrangement and hardly knowing each other, moving from India to America. It tells about their difficulties in trying to adapt and assimilate, and how, when they have children, how their children shed some of the cultural traditions even as the parents so strongly try to maintain their cultural roots.
And I would like, if I may, to add my novel, And All is Always Now to this list. In this novel, which takes place in NYC both in its normal bustling glory and in its strikken state immediately after 9/11, and in the serenity of England's Lake District, Time itself arcs backwards and forwards, sometimes folding in on itself so Past, Present and Future intersect, defying conventional expectations of chronology and suggesting that quite possibly "All is Always Now."