Jorge Aguirre and Andrés Vera Martínez, Monster Locker: Nine-Tail Trouble. Another graphic novel with middle-school monster fighters and friendship/social dynamics, this time with a kitsune (it's in the title, it's not a spoiler) and a different character embracing their heritage. Very fast good fun.
Albrecht Berger, The Statues of Constantinople. Kindle. Short monograph about exactly what the title says. It was available in a give-away some time ago, and I picked it up on a whim; if you're not interested in the topic it's probably not worth seeking out, but it was interesting to put into the mental mix about worldbuilding.
María Luisa Bombal, New Islands. I don't know if it was the translation style or if this was in the original, but these short stories had a very early-20th feel to me, a bit of Henry James, a bit of Amy Lowell. They were written much later than that, so I'm still mulling over why that would be. They were vividly dramatic if that's the mood you're in.
M.A. Carrick, The Eye of Leviathan. Carrick is two friends of mine, and they have not lost their touch: their prose is still immediately and vividly engaging and propelled me all the way through this one. The setting is not ever going to be my favorite of theirs, I think--the Spanish "Golden Age" puts me in very much of a mind to pick at setting choices when there's an entire faerie realm that is verified and matters quite a lot to world developments, so I never settled into it as much as I wanted to, but I can't think anything the authors could have done to change that once they had that setting and were not really focused on the groups that actually were oppressed by the Spanish Empire of the time. I'll still read the next one for sure.
Rae Carson, Monster Monarch Maiden. This is what I mean when I talk about liking "stitial" fantasy as well as interstitial fantasy: it is absolutely genre-center, it is not the least bit interstitial, and it is really well done right smack in the middle of this genre I like. I also particularly thought the ending was well done, the denouement landed for me. Individual magical gifts and travels through highly varied landscapes and perils! Yes here I am.
Agatha Christie, Curtain, Dead Man's Folly, Dumb Witness, and One, Two, Buckle My Shoe. Kindle. The reading project continues. I have now encountered my favorite character in all of Christie so far, Bob the dog in Dumb Witness, who is far more patient with Hastings than Hastings really deserves.
Thomas Hylland Eriksen, Sanna Valkonen, and Jarno Valkonen, eds., Knowing from the Indigenous North: Sámi Approaches to History, Politics, and Belonging. Interesting collection of essays situating a northernness that is very distinct from westernness in cool ways, very glad I found it (used! for about 5% of what it would cost me to order it!) in this summer when I was taking Sámi cultural classes.
T. Kingfisher, Daggerbound. Second in its series, and I think it would stand alone reasonably well. Good times with people who live in swords! Or mostly bad times for them. Good times for me though. A human likes a gnole so much. The gnoles just continue great. And there is a giant bug--okay, if you're going to drop the book and freakout about a giant bug character, yeah, there sure is one, fundamental to the plot, too, but otherwise go have fun with this, it's one of her better ones.
Yoon Ha Lee, Fox Snare. Kindle. Caught up on the end of this MG science fantasy series and had a lot of fun with it, but for heaven's sake don't start here.
Scott Lynch, Locke Lamora: The Bottled Serpent and The Wizard Who Kept Himself Suspicious. Kindle. Two shorts, both entertaining. "Kaiju Agonistes" sets a high bar for "Scott Lynch's best short work," but I did have fun with these all the same.
Hilary McKay, Saffy's Angel, Indigo's Star, Permanent Rose, Caddy Ever After, and Forever Rose. Rereads. The only reason I didn't reread Caddy's World as well is that I don't own it yet and the library has culled their copy. I love these books so much, and once I started reading one I just wanted to be reading them all the time. They're like a crash course in subtext for the grade school set, an absolute masterpiece of perspective and of understanding different perspectives. I love them so much.
Emmet A. O'Brien, Here Be Dragons. Discussed elsewhere.
Aleksander Pluskowski, The Black Cross: A History of the Baltic Crusades. I'm not sure why other people are willing to tell me more about the Baltic Crusades this year than in previous years, but I'm here for it, tell me more about what weird stuff people were up to around the Baltic, that is my jam. This one is substantially focused south of my main interest (Finland and Sápmi), but I'm still happy to learn interesting things about Poland, Lithuania, Estonia, and all the smaller groups that went into them in various ways.
Alex Ross, The Rest Is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century. This is a history of Classical music in the 20th. Did you know that the only woman who really mattered in 20th century Classical was Jiang Qing (Mme. Mao)? Yeah, it's that kind of history. There were lots of other pieces of analysis that did not strike me as correct or well-grounded (you cannot! understand Sibelius! without understanding 20th century Finland at least a little! sir! sir!), and I frankly don't recommend this; there were some interesting spots but a lot of ugh.
Neil Williamson and Andrew J. Wilson, eds., Nova Scotia 2: New Speculative Fiction from Scotland. This is a very well-constructed anthology. I kept enjoying stories and thinking, "I wonder if this is the one that's why I knew I wanted this!" until I got to the one that is definitely why I knew I wanted this (it's the one about Lise Meitner, you'll know it a mile off), but the fact that there was any question is a very good sign.
Andrea Wulf, The Traveler: One Man's Quest for Humanity from the South Seas to Revolutionary Paris. Andrea Wulf is very good at her job, so this is entirely readable. If you don't have more than one Andrea Wulf book in you, don't go with this one, it is a side quest. George Forster is moderately interesting and is a great example of how "a man of his time" can mean things much more progressive than we're encouraged to think it can, but at the end of the day he is a footnote in the history of natural science, and even Wulf knows it. I like reading the footnotes. You may also like reading the footnotes. But that's very much what this is.