The Best Books of 2007

It is often said there are only two types of stories: a man goes on a journey, or a stranger comes to town. Any recent best-seller list might suggest another characterization: a life rises from the ashes or it comes wholly undone.

Personally, I much prefer the former, with its hopeful overtones and undercurrents of inertia. And yes, I also prefer titles which speak to one big piece and not a million little ones.

Accordingly, you’ll find nary a tale of personal deconstruction on this list. Granted, the inverse isn’t true either: I'm not addicted to narratives about puppy dogs and ice cream.

Some of these novels have inexplicably avoided my grasp for years. Others are more recent and familiar additions to paperback row, emblazoned with award-winning seals which scream out, “only a fool wouldn’t purchase me.”

All of these books have brought me immeasurable pleasure.

Ironically, as hinted at above, none of these books were published in 2007. I’m shunning that traditional categorization in favor of the year in which they were read. What’s a born-on-date matter if it hasn’t arrived in my possession until now?

Finally, I know that literary taste is as unique and confounding a proposition as the opposite sex -- not all of these will strike a chord. But as the holidays near and time (theoretically) extends itself, perhaps one or two will add a degree of merriment to your season, whether before or after a long winter’s nap.

"The Lay of the Land" by Richard Ford
How do you know if a book is really, really good? Any next read will pale in comparison to such a degree that, invariably, it gets shoved aside after 20 pages of utter dissatisfaction.

I started four different books after "The Lay of the Land."

In this, the last of Ford’s trilogy detailing the life of real estate agent Frank Bascombe, our principal subject is dealing with the “Permanent Period” and a simultaneous bout with prostate cancer. It’s a meditation on life, America, growing old, and our reliance on others (with every possible connotation implied).

Ford, at his best, reminds me of a prize fighter with a great hook. You’ll be dancing around his literary landscape and then “Wham!” -- he hits you with an observation that is so keen and poignant, you can’t believe such insight is possible in so few words.

Incredibly, his prose here is never superfluous or overreaching; the narrative voice feels effortless. I didn’t love the ending, but don't let that deter you.

Enjoy this bout for all it’s worth.

"A Soldier of the Great War" by Mark Helprin
My first Helprin foray was "Freddy & Fredericka" -- a tale about a bumbling, overeducated prince and his frivolous wife who are sent to the States to repossess the colonies (“Then came ten piercing words that shattered Freddy’s peace of mind like a dagger clinging to a marble floor: “Freddy,” she asked, “you know what I’ve got? I’ve got disco fever.”).

If this entry included the best reads from a year ago, "Freddy & Fredericka" would have been a highlight of the list.

But whereas F&F is a sweeping joyride of unlikely vistas and heart-warming delight, A Soldier is more meaty and builds in a long, arcing crescendo. In it, an aging professor of aesthetics walks from Rome to Monte Prato, telling a young, impressionable companion the story of his life. He recounts his impulsive youth, an immeasurable love, and his efforts to outlast an unending war.

Helprin's prose is an amplified dose of vitality, a shot of adrenaline whenever I'm down. And if you’re looking for a barometer for my literary taste, this is a great point of reference.

If Helprin isn’t up your alley, we’re probably out of luck.

"Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman (24 stories)" by Haruki Marukami
This introspective collection is a great introduction to Japan’s most popular fiction writer. The 24 stories asks big questions without asking them, while opening doors to far away worlds.

You’ll read about “the year of spaghetti” and a cooking pot big enough to hold a German shepherd. You’ll meet Tony Takitani and his wife, whose apartment-sized closet holds only size seven dresses. And you’ll bump into man-eating cats, chance travelers, an ice man, and a memorable birthday encounter (or two).

Marukami already owns a lot of turf on my bookshelf, but I enjoyed these stories as much as anything I’ve read of his, except possibly "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle." If you’re looking to venture outside of your comfort zone and don’t know Marukami as of yet, I would highly recommend giving this collection a go.

"The Gold Bug Variations" by Richard Powers
This book is so darn good it’s making the list even though I haven’t finished it (how about them apples!). But I’d be slighting you if I didn’t also admit the following: this is a BEAST of an undertaking.

The novel should be subtitled: “Much Ado About Molecular Biology (all of it).” Every time I start reading this book sans caffeine (i.e. quad espresso) or not entirely focused, I miss 50% of the page. On my best day numerous passages, ciphers, and molecular references are still way beyond me.

BUT if you’re up for a challenge, proceed without reservation. This is a pulsating, innovative novel -- one of a kind in every sense. It’s the type of book which could spur a person to start out in a new life direction, certain they will never look back.

At the core of our story is an unlikely trio: 1) a once promising genetics researcher on the brink of decoding the double helix which Watson and Crick have modeled 2) a drifting art historian ABD (all-but-dissertation) and 3) a librarian with a penchant for “this day in history.” It’s a double love story which also explores the connections between biology, music, and computation. Ultimately, each character must discover the life molecule -- deliberating on its endless, mutating variations on a four-note theme -- in order to come to grips with their own existence.

This book is a climber's Everest. Only a handful of readers will find pleasure in the commitment required to make the summit.

I hope it never ends.

"The Time of Our Singing" by Richard Powers
Noticing a pattern here? The man can write! Powers’ most recent novel, "The Echo Maker," won the National Book Award for crying out loud. Granted, the subject matter in Echo -- a near-fatal accident leads to a reluctant reunion between a brother and sister -– doesn’t interest me as much (too many little pieces). But Powers has me lock, stock, and barrel with "The Time of Our Singing."

This novel centers on two musically gifted brothers, inseparable throughout most of the novel. Their father is a Jewish emigre physicist who is studying the space-time continuum and lends a hand on the atomic bomb (i.e. another scientist on the cusp). Their mother is African-American, trained as a classical singer.

Husband and wife meet at Marian Anderson’s historic concert on the Washington Mall. They being a secretive romance and fall quickly in love -- alienating her family in the process. The couple then moves to New York where they are determined to raise their sons in a home which is beyond judgment, racism, and time – steeped only in song and a love for one another.

But the 1950s are not an easy decade for two mixed-race boys to come of age. Music and family will be their only constants.

The novel's intricate harmonies are undeniable, and Powers' sense of pace could steady a metronome. Its multi-layered, rich voices will lay out a melody which pierces your heart and your ears.

You will hear its singing long after the final page.

"AT SWIM, Two Boys" by Jamie O’Neill
The setting is Ireland during World War I, leading up to the Easter Rising, when local radicals will revolt against British rule. The storyline is two boys coming of age and falling in love. A third mate (of sorts) who talks to an imaginary, Socratic companion will affect both their lives in ways neither could have expected.

Ireland’s lush countryside and downtrodden history can romanticize any novel, but it’s the author's skillful molding which drives the reader into the heart of the Emerald Isle. The characters are raw, believable, and accessible to a degree which has me struggling to find a worthy comparison.

Reading about the sexual impulses of two loving boys took a little getting used to; it was unfamiliar terrain. But don’t be dissuaded.

The most lyrical, haunting -- perhaps affecting -- book of the year.

"The World to Come" by Dora Horn
My safest recommendation on the list. Readers of all shapes and sizes should gravitate towards Horn’s subject and prose.

The narrative centers on a man who sees a Chagall and then becomes (obsessively) convinced it used to belong to his family. He is spurred to action, finding love and his scattered self along the way. Mystery, romance, historical flashbacks: this effort has them all. Don’t be surprised if this novel is making the rounds in book clubs or on the train next year.

Entertainment Weekly’s review is right on the money: “nothing short of amazing.”

"Tres Tristes Tigres" (Three Trapped Tigers) by G. Cabrera Infante
Hailed as the “Cuban Ulysses.” I get the comparison. This is a dense, difficult novel (of a different variety than Gold Bug). Improbable characters cascade from every direction and the stream-of-consciousness dialog is nearly impenetrable at times. If you think the first few chapters are running amuck, just wait.

At one point you’ll flip the book upside down.

Still, the passages which didn’t fly (10,000 ft) over my head were by turns musical, absurd, and absurdly funny. It's an admiring portrait of pre-Castro Cuba, and a quixotic joyride the likes of which you've never experienced.

To be sure, this tiger can not be tamed in one sitting or frame of mind; it’s a labyrinth without end (amen). But there's nourishment to be had as you meander through Infante's maze. And ultimately, perhaps, a great deal of appreciation.

"Special Topics in Calamity Physics" by Marisha Pessl
Not the apex of my literary year but Pessl’s narrative voice, in this very original work, is so distinct and refreshing -- in the end I decided to add Calamity Physics to my list.

In this whimsical debut, a daughter is told that “a person should have a magnificent reason for writing out her Life Story and expecting anyone to read it...unless your name is Mozart or Bond – James Bond – you best spend your free time finger painting or playing shuffleboard, for no one, with the exception of your flabby-armed mother with stiff hair and a mashed-potato way of looking at you, will want to hear the particulars of your pitiable existence, which doubtlessly will end as it began – with a wheeze.”

And yet the daughter, Blue van Meer, is convinced that her life story is worthy of the telling -- and at a formative age no less. And so our story begins.

If you enjoyed Pessl’s witty (verbose?) intro above, you’d do well to settle in for the duration. Her playful prose seeps through every crack of every sidewalk which Blue strolls down.

An escapist read that is likely to delight.

"Champagne: How the World’s Most Glamorous Wine Triumphed Over War and Hard Times" by Don & Petite Kladstrup
Last but certainly not least: a recipient from non-fiction row.

The subject material here should come as no surprise, as many readers are familiar with my love for wine. But as the title suggests, this is more a historical overview than a lesson in blending techniques.

In 250 pages you’ll learn how pinot meunier, chardonnay, and pinot noir became the three primary grapes for champagne. You’ll learn about the Monk at the Abbey of Hautvilliers, Dom Perignon, and how his name got attached to the world’s most renowned champagne 200 years after he died. You’ll come to appreciate the Sun King, as his reign changed the fate of champagne forever.

And you’ll visit the bloodied battlefields near Epernay and Reims, where millions of men lost their lives fighting for the soil on which the vines grow. Thankfully, those hallowed grounds in the northeast of France are more fertile than ever today, producing every drop of champagne the world consumes.

The Kladstrups cover all this and more in a linear, fresh tonality that reads more like a dedication than a history text. High marks.