Kindly Meant Interference, Jayne Bamber
This novel – a Pride and Prejudice retelling from the perspective of Caroline Bingley – had such potential. However, by the end of it, it read like badly executed amateur fanfic to me. The problem, I feel, is that instead of leaning into the Caroline perspective, it kept alternating with the Elizabeth-Darcy story, which should have been strictly peripheral. Caroline’s motivations too did not seem entirely convincing. A pity.
This is Not a Book About Benedict Cumberbatch, Tabitha Carvan
The subtitle says it all: the joy of loving something – anything – like your life depends on it. Or rather, it’s about leaning into fangirling and discovering joy. And about how the things women obsess over are seen as silly unlike the things men obsess over (e.g. sports). The author becomes obsessed with Cumberbatch (who isn’t? it’s just a question of degree) and turns it into a sort of sociological study. Interviewing fellow Cumberbitches, she discovers the psychological underpinnings of the obsession. A bit that resonated with me was how she and another Cumberbitch lived their lives – like most women, to a greater or lesser degree – in fear (of being judged by other people). One of the things I’ve been struggling with is the amount of fear in my life – not so much of judgment from other people though there is that, but the sheer precariousness of life itself, more so in India. Carvan’s thesis is that throwing oneself into love of something – aka fangirling – can help one rediscover joie de vivre. I have some concern that throwing onself into objectifying another person may not be entirely justifiabe even if that person is a male celebrity, with all the privilege that comes with that. Carvan tries to address this, but not entirely satisfactorily for me. The book is an apt counterpoint to the nonchalence epidemic we seem to be in.
Great Circle, Maggie Shipstead
As a child, I read a story in a textbook about Amelia Earhart, the pioneering female aviator who disappeared while attempting to circumnavigate the world. I still vaguely remember the black-and-white sketch that accompanied the story, if not the story itself. Shipstead’s novel ties together two parallel stories: that of a (fictional) female aviator who disappears while attempting to circumnavigate the world from north to south pole, and the actress who plays her in a biopic. There are subtle parallels between both women’s lives separated though they are by decades. You’d think this is a book about aviation, and there are a number of historical nuggets, but it’s at heart a character-driven story, that I suspect will stay with me.
The Names, Florence Knapp
Heard a lot about this one and suggested it for the book club. The premise: a woman is heading to the birth registry to register the name of her newborn son. She has been instructed to put down Gordon, the name that is passed down to all first born sons in her abusive husband’s family. Then we are presented with three scenarios: she defies her husband and picks an unusual name that her young daughter suggests, she defies her husband and picks a name she likes herself, or she goes with her husband’s choice. Out of these three choices flow three trajectories for her and her children. Because I am obsessed (or used to be) with names and because I personally had a massive fight with V over the (last) name of our children involving him creating a ruckus at the Hong Kong birth registry the premise struck a chord with me. While the idea of naming a child the same name as his father and grandfather might strike many of us as odd and patriarchal, how many of us question and oppose the equally patriarchal tradition of children taking their father’s last name? That said, the premise of the book was more interesting to me than where it eventually went though it is well written, particularly as a treatise on the importance of women escaping abusive marriages and the consequences not only to themselves but also to their children if they don’t.
for whom the bell tolls 
