I'd initially intended to make a separate post for each book I read, but this was not possible owing to technical issues. Upon further reflection, it might be simpler to write weekly posts? I'll give it a try and see how it goes.
By coincidence, I began the year in the company of a majority of francophone authors, while I tend to read in English most of the time.
I enjoyed L'Ennemie by Irène Némirovsky and absolutely loved Les Années (The Years) by Annie Ernaux. I'd only previously read one book by each of these authors, and these two titles convinced me that I should add more of their works to my TBR.
I'm sure that L'Ennemie's spare prose, sense of impending disaster and nevertheless unpredictable ending will haunt me for a long time. Not being an optimist, I think the slow destruction of the characters' lives will inevitably continue...
If I had to use a single word to describe Annie Ernaux's writing, it would have to be "unflinching." Whatever aspect of her life she tackles, she does it simply, directly, and without fear. I have immense respect and admiration for the unwavering gaze she turns on her own life. I was fascinated by the way in which she used elements such as images of herself, topics of conversation and songs around the table at family get-togethers, and her contemporaries' relationships with material possessions, work and leisure to track changes in both herself and the society around her.
Alas, the next two novels I read — Nom d'une pipe! by Nadine Monfils and Anatomy by Dana Schwartz — were bitter disappointments.
I was already familiar with crime/mystery novels where historical figures play the role of amateur detectives. I'd thus far read examples of this genre featuring Proust (as boring as In Search of Lost Time — speaking of which, I categorically refuse to read the last volume), Voltaire (a total romp, such fun!), and Jane Austen (quite good). While the idea of a series with painter René Magritte and his wife Georgette investigating crimes intrigued me, its execution by Nadine Monfils left me thoroughly baffled. As well as making René and Georgette frankly unpleasant people who find almost everyone ugly, repulsive and ridiculous, this "crime" novel shows no insight into criminal motivations, the supposedly major clues completely lack credibility, and the rushed ending is the equivalent of a "K bye!" sign-off on TikTok. I'm appalled that this became an entire series. (Also, the Magrittes' dog apparently undergoes a sex change without anyone noticing???)
As for Anatomy, I'm ashamed to admit that I was lured in by the stunning cover art. The plot is so ridiculous, the love story so unconvincing, the main character so arrogant that I got a migraine from all the eye-rolling. Plus, I may never forgive the author for bothering to set her novel in a specific place and time — Edinburgh, 1817 — only to include (easily verifiable) detail after detail that completely destroy the historical illusion she presumably intended to create. Tight-laced corsets, crinolines, public marriage proposals, vulgar language from high-born characters, servants sent off in a carriage to promenade, books delivered with Amazon-worthy speed from all over Europe, parks that don't yet exist, medical qualifications that require just a few weeks of studies... the horrors just won't stop! (I learned in a brilliant Goodreads review that this phenomenon has a name: "historical wallpaper.") Honestly, just call it Anachrony and have done.