Slightly belated wrap-up of the month that was May. I’ve already written about our lovely holiday in Devon at the start of the month. Otherwise it was a relatively quiet month of beautiful weather and apparently overdoing the physical activity as my shoulder is plaguing me again.

I also managed to end the month with a bit of a lupus flare, which often happens in May. Right now I am really very tired, struggling to concentrate, headachy, a little dizzy – hence not posting this monthly round-up sooner.

Before I finish, June is Pride month. And this year it really feels like it’s important to protest, speak up for the whole LGBTQIA+ community but especially our trans siblings. Please join Pride marches, shout those slogans but also don’t stop writing to politicians and shutting down hate speech.

Books read

Therese and Isabelle by Violette Leduc
Translated from French by Sophie Lewis
This is a lesbian classic that was banned in France for almost 50 years. Which, considering I’ve read most of Colette’s work perhaps should have clued me into this being more than just a romance between schoolgirls. It’s erotica but also quite strange and abstract. There are gorgeous descriptions of light; very familiar, believable details of teen girls with a crush; not to mention the general bitchiness and changes of allegiance of a girls’ school. I guess I can see that this was revolutionary in 1954 but in 2025 I’ll admit it felt a bit light on story.

This is How You Lose the Time War by Max Gladstone and Amal El-Mohtar
Two agents on opposing sides of the time war jump around in time tweaking history in different threads. They become aware of each other and start to leave encoded messages. It’s a science fiction romance like nothing else I have read. It was also super confusing to begin with and I will admit that a couple of chapters in I wasn’t sure whether to persevere. I’m glad I did. Blue and Red don’t have binary gender and in fact aren’t technically human. But they can and do love, and it’s epic and beautiful.

Unsilencing Gaza: Reflections on Resistance by Sara Roy
Sara Roy is an American economic and political scholar who has spent significant time living in Gaza and more time studying it. This is a collection of essays, articles and diary entries from her 30 years of writing about Gaza. It’s enlightening, packed with facts, analysis and eyewitness accounts. And it’s also depressing to read about the times 5 years, 10 years, 15 years, 20+ years ago when it seemed the situation in Gaza was so bad that this had to be the point when the rest of the world stood up and stepped in to help them. The most recent essays, from 2021, describe a place that is without hope of freedom or nationhood – all they ask for is survival.

Flush by Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf wrote a book about Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s pet spaniel from the perspective of the dog, so obviously I had to read that. It’s a little silly and funny; it’s also sweet and insightful. I think this was intended for younger readers so the language isn’t as abstract or multi-layered as Woolf’s other books.

Celestial Navigation by Anne Tyler
This is my second Anne Tyler novel, after Ladder of Years, and once again I found it interesting and insightful but also a bit cold and detached. The story centres around Jeremy, an artist who lives his whole life in the same house, which he doesn’t leave. The chapters are either narrated by or told from the perspective of different people around Jeremy who enable his life. He’s probably agoraphobic, which of course he can’t help, but he’s also completely useless when it comes to pretty much every practicality of life. Paying bills, reading the post, cooking and cleaning are apparently beyond his skill set. He gets distracted mid-conversation by light, colour, texture and will disappear into an artistic reverie. Which some people do, yes, but I still felt this novel was one long excuse for a mediocre man to be coddled and cosseted because he might be a brilliant artist. I did not love it.

Grief’s Alphabet by Carrie Etter
Carrie Etter is a US poet who has made her home here in Bristol. This is a collection she published last year focusing on how she is still reeling from grief at the death of her mother, years later. Her style is deceptively simple, detailing small moments in everyday life that have larger significance.

The Days of Abandonment by Elena Ferrante
Translated from Italian by Ann Goldstein
This was my first Elena Ferrante outside of her Neapolitan cycle. I loved those books, but I didn’t love this. Ferrante’s writing is absolutely brilliant. I completely believe in the characters and the situation. But something didn’t quite click for me. Olga has been left by her husband and is slowly falling apart while she tries to care for their two children alone. A series of bad decisions/bad luck leads to the dramatic centre of the book – a day when everything goes wrong and it seems tragedy is inevitable.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
This on the other hand was by far my book of the month. As children, Sam and Sadie bond over computer games. They are best friends until an argument leads to them not speaking. Years later while at university they meet in a train station and gradually grow closer again until their lives and careers rely on each other. This is a gorgeous tale about the deep love of friendship, the art of computer games and the potential for catastrophe when you go into business with your friend. It’s geeky and generous and beautifully told.

Phantom Pain Wings by Kim Hyesoon
Translated from Korean by Don Mee Choi
This…is an odd book. It’s a poetry collection where themes of grief and trauma are expressed primarily through birds. Sometimes the bird is a separate being from Kim Hyesoon, sometimes she is the bird. There are abundant puns and cultural references that must have made this a serious challenge to translate. It’s also dark, angry and confrontational.