Looking Back on the 2010s
You’ve probably noticed that everyone is doing all kinds of lists and best ofs for the past decade. We all love a good reason for a list, for marking time, for creating a little time capsule of a moment. I think a “best of” list can be a little disingenuous, though, especially when tastes are subjective and anyway, how could I possibly have read everything that came out this decade? And a lot of fantastic books have come into the world. So take it with a grain of salt, but here are my favorite books published in the past ten years (in no particular order, because ranking these beautiful books might actually kill me–as you’ll see, I ended up with 11 instead of ten because I couldn’t cut any).
The Books
Her Body & Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado
If you’re even a casual reader of this blog, you’ve heard me wax poetic about Ms. Machado and her strange, hypnotic debut novel. This short story collection, which includes a bold and haunting novella, will leave you speechless. Between this novel and her recent genre-imploding memoir, Machado is a literary voice who is going to be here to stay for a long time.
“When you think about it, stories have this way of running together like raindrops in a pond. Each is borne from the clouds separate, but once they have come together, there is no way to tell them apart.”
–Carmen Maria Machado, Her Body and Other Parties
Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward
I’d read an essay Ward wrote and enjoyed it a lot, and then I kept hearing about this novel she’d written, so I finally checked it out. This was a dark, lyrical meditation on race, poverty, and inheritance in the American South. Ward has a very singular voice, and a poetic way of describing gut-wrenching things that feel indescribable.
“It stays with me, a bruise in the memory that hurts when I touch it.”
― Jesmyn Ward, Sing, Unburied, Sing
Lost Children Archive by Valeria Luiselli
I first found Luiselli’s work through her short nonfiction book, Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in 40 Questions, which is about her time assisting children caught in the immigration system. Her novel, Lost Children Archive , borrows heavily from themes and ideas of the first book, but it runs parallel to a gripping fictionalized family’s journey across the country. Usually I say pick your poison–physical book or audiobook, but the audiobook of this is so rich, and the book itself so rooted in sounds, I can’t recommend the audio version enough. The writing is gorgeous, but I also think this was one of the best books I read because it highlighted a devastating issue that has only gotten worse in the U.S. in the past decade.
“New families, like young nations after violent wars of independence or social revolutions, perhaps need to anchor their beginnings in a symbolic moment and nail that instant in time. That night was our foundation, it was the night where our chaos became a cosmos.”
― Valeria Luiselli, Lost Children Archive
Red, White, & Royal Blue by Casey McQusiton
This book delighted me more than perhaps any other I’ve read in the past ten years. It’s a YA romance about the U.S. President’s son and a prince of England falling in love. The characters were sharp and endearing, and I found myself rooting so hard for them (and for the alternative political landscape Casey McQuiston envisioned). So far it’s kicking some major butt in at least two categories in the 2019 Goodreads Choice Awards.
“But the first time I saw you. Rio. I took that down to the gardens. I pressed it into the leaves of a silver maple and recited it to the Waterloo Vase. It didn’t fit in any rooms.”
― Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue
Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell
I first read Rainbow Rowell’s book Eleanor and Park in 2015, and adored it. Then I kind of forgot about her for a few years. In an online community I belong to, people were raving about these other books of hers, so I started with the first, Fangirl, and wow, did this book catch me off guard. It’s a YA book about a young woman who writes fanfiction and who really struggles when she first starts college. I found this book so relatable, and lovely, and now I’m reading the next related book (I won’t spoil for you exactly how it’s related, but I’ve never seen another book spin off in quite this same way).
“Sometimes writing is running downhill, your fingers jerking behind you on the keyboard the way your legs do when they can’t quite keep up with gravity.”
― Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl
Broken Harbor by Tana French
I love Tana French’s Dublin Murder Squad series (They’ve finally made it a show!). Honestly, consider this entry representative of the entire series. My very favorite in these books, The Likeness, didn’t come out this decade, so I chose my second favorite for the purposes of the 2010s. French is both a literary and mystery plot driven writer, and I am never not in awe of the way she describes things. I think this particular book ranks so high for me within the series because it still haunts me.
“Over time, the ghosts of things that happened start to turn distant; once they’ve cut you a couple of million times, their edges blunt on your scar tissue, they wear thin. The ones that slice like razors forever are the ghosts of things that never got the chance to happen.”
― Tana French, Broken Harbour
Battleborn by Claire Vaye Watkins
You may already know this, but it’s pretty hard to sell a short story collection, unless it’s packaged with something more “marketable” like a novel. Claire Vaye Watkins collection, Battleborn, was the subject of a fierce bidding war–that’s how devastatingly good it was. As someone who lives in the southwest, I appreciated how deeply the desert landscape informed her writing.
“Like all our memories, we like to take it out once in a while and lay it flat on the kitchen table, the way my wife does with her sewing patterns, where we line up the shape of our life against that which we thought it would be by now.”
― Claire Vaye Watkins, Battleborn
The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender
I love the strangeness that is Aimee Bender’s writing, and particularly this novel. It’s narrated by a young woman who can taste the feelings of whomever has prepared food for her, whether her own mother or a cook at a fast food restaurant. It is bizarre and beautiful, and though I read it much earlier in the decade, it has stuck with me this whole time.
“…a Dorito asks nothing of you, which is its great gift. It only asks that you are not there.”
― Aimee Bender, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake
The Astonishing Color of After by Emily X.R. Pan
This YA novel about a young Taiwanese-American girl grappling with her mother’s suicide and the fantastical elements it triggers in her life, knocked me over it was so dazzling in its language and world-building. It is one of the sadder books on the list, but it takes on a powerful issue, and never once feels like an “issue book.”
“Here is my mother, with wings instead of hands, and feathers instead of hair. Here is my mother, the reddest of brilliant reds, the color of my love and my fear, all of my fiercest feelings trailing after her in the sky like the tail of a comet.”
― Emily X.R. Pan, The Astonishing Color of After
Difficult Women by Roxane Gay
I love all of Roxane Gay’s work, but I read this particular one when I was grieving a great loss, and I found a lot of comfort in it. It’s often dark, but I always admire the way Gay can make any subject relatable and compelling. She’s one of the most important and engaging writers going right now.
“She was smart enough to want more but tired enough to accept the way things were.”
― Roxane Gay, Difficult Women
Know My Name by Chanel Miller
I’ll admit, I haven’t quite finished this last one. The only reason for that is simply because the subject matter is among the most difficult I’ve ever read. But it’s so good, so necessary to take away from this decade, that I had to include it on the list. This is Miller, previously known as Emily Doe, recounting her sexual assault at the hands of Brock Turner, as well as the ensuing trial and cultural upheaval that snowballed into the modern #MeToo movement after Miller’s victim statement went viral. It’s a lot to take in, but Miller’s writing is lush and incisive, as she dissects both her own experience and the broken systems that are in place for victims. If you’re able, I highly recommend it.
“Most people say developing is linear, but for survivors it is cyclic. People grow up, victims grow around; we strengthen around the place that hurt, become older and fuller, but the vulnerable core is never gone.”
― Chanel Miller, Know My Name
There you have it. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that all of the books are by women. I do read books by men, of course (though not this year!), but the ones that speak most to me, that linger in my consciousness and wake me up in the middle of the night, are those written by women. The genres run the gamut, as do the writers and their identities. I personally wouldn’t change a thing about my 2010s reading time capsule.
Did you read any of these books? What were some of the books that made you sit up and take notice this decade? Share in the comments, or on any of our socials: Twitter, Instagram, and/or Facebook. We’d love to hear from you!
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