I finished my International Booker Prize longlist reading for now. I've read all I wanted to, and two books I'd still like to read aren't published yet and thus will have to wait. It's the first time I've ever felt so dedicated to a book list for a prize and that I've read so many of them. For now, here's my own personal judging:

I consider it a serious crime if it doesn't get onto the shortlist:

- The Book of Disappearance
- Reservoir Bitches
- There's a Monster Behind the Door
- Hunchback

I'll be sad if it doesn't make the shortlist, but I'll come to terms with it because there are just too many good books to all be able to make it:

- Under the Eye of the Big Bird
- On the Calculation of Volume I
- A Leopard-Skin Hat
- On a Woman's Madness

No thanks, I'd rather not see it on the shortlist, because I don't condone medal theft:

- Perfection
- Eurotrash
- Solenoid

I can't say a thing about this because it's not out yet by the time the shortlist gets announced:

- Heart Lamp (releases 8 April)
- Small Boat (releases 23 April)

Okay, yeah, I'm being a bit tongue in cheek about it. I wish every book and author the best while waiting for the shortlist and the winner to be announced.

#InternationalBooker #InternationalBooker2025 #IBPReadingChallenge

📘 "There's a Monster Behind the Door" by Gaëlle Bélem, translated from French into English by Karen Fleetwood & Laëtitia Saint-Loubert

Thank you, book, for making me constantly laugh so I wouldn't keep crying!

If you're like me and always look out for arthouse movies that get labeled as 'tragicomedy' and 'dysfunctional family', you're in for a treat with this novel. And if you're a secret lurker on the subreddits for estranged children, then I suspect you might want to eagerly read or completely avoid this -your pick.

This is a drama that constantly zooms out and zooms in while moving along the family tree, with such a unique, fantastic narrative voice... a tiny jewel of wit, bitterness and dark humor.

I'm glad this book exists, and I'm pretty excited that the author's second book is being translated and released this year too. The translators added a note at the start of book and a little footnote list at the end for words they decided to leave be, which I liked.

I wanted to post some quotes that made fall over, but couldn't narrow it down and went over the character limit with dozens of paragraphs. So I'm just going to give you the shortest one, and I hope it'll speak to you and that you'll pick up the book:

"The Shrew (yours truly) had not yet been born."

#WomenInTranslation #AmReading #InternationalBooker #IBPReadingChallenge #books

📘 "Under the Eye of the Big Bird" by Hiromi Kawakami, translated from Japanese into English by Asa Yoneda

When I saw this was placed on the IBP longlist, I wasn't looking forward to reading it. I've read two novels from the author before: "Strange Weather in Tokyo", which I didn't like, and "Record of a Night Too Brief", which I thought was just okay. But this book pleasantly surprised me, I enjoyed it a lot!

Is there a word for something in between a chapter and a short story? This is a collection of short stories, but ones that can only exist together. They intertwine in a very pleasant way, and the reveals made along the way will probably make a second read even more satisfying than a first read. The journey from not understanding a thing to being completely in the loop is very neat.

Sometimes, no matter how important I think the human arts are, there are days on which reading literature feels empty. Wars are raging on, genocides are being kept up like it's a necessary 9-to-5, societal collapse seems well on its way. Here I am, absorbing all this text like it matters a great deal. Because this book is about human extinction, I felt like that even more. But at the same time, also way less. We can even turn dying off into an art. Isn't that ironic?

I think you'll enjoy this book if you feel hopeless about humanity and you don't want others' toxic optimism about the future shoved into your face. But oddly enough, I also think you'll like this if you're a hopeless romantic and want to see people beat the odds.

I'm glad I gave the author another chance, this book was well worth it. Are there any other titles of hers you'd recommend that I might appreciate?

PS, this is a bit of a side journey, but : Has anyone ever written a paper about (quirky, odd, necessary, funny, scary) alternatives to 'regular' human reproduction in Japanese literature? There must be enough novels out there to fill a book on its own about that, and I'm not complaining.

#AmReading #SpecFic #WomenInTranslation #InternationalBooker #IBPReadingChallenge #books #bookstodon

📘 "Hunchback" by Saou Ichikawa, translated by Polly Barton

Whenever there's disability lit, I come running. Just kidding, I can't run, but you'll hear the quick tap tap tap of a cane coming closer rather quickly.

I haven't mentioned it here before, but I have a MSc in sexology. My main interest was the overlap between disability and sexology. I did my thesis research on how sex changes within relationships after specific cancer treatments. I don't work in the field, because it was extremely inaccessible and ableist. The pandemic worsened that sentiment x10. All that to say: although my quality of life is way better after saying fyoubye to the world of sexology, I'm still quite passionate about the intersection of sex and disability. I get excited when a novel comes out with these themes. This post is not really going to be a review, more of a mind wander. But connecting all sorts of new and old thoughts is a sign of a good book, right?

I had heard a lot about the book before reading and developed fears because of it:

- I'd heard that the disabled protagonist would pay for sex or a relationship of some kind, and I was scared that it would once again be a story that would enforce the idea that disabled people are unlovable and that love or sex are only possible for them through financial transaction, because nobody would engage in that out of free will without compensation.

- I'd read that the protagonist would desire an abortion, so I got nervous that it would be insensitive to the many years disabled people had to fight for reproduction rights, and that it would play into eugenics.

- I'd seen from a quote that the protagonist was wealthy, and immediately expected to be disappointed, that stories of disability would only be possible on a cushion of money, else the story could only be about perishing.

- I'd heard that there would be a sexual relationship with a caregiver, so I got stressed that this book would trample over the difficult topic of frequent sexual abuse that happens in care homes.

- Considering the title, I was scared that this book would indulge in freakshow aesthetics for the abled viewer, like all those 'disfigured' people as monsters in every piece of media out there, either disabled as punishment or evil because of their disabledness.

There were more fears, but you get the point. There's a lot to think about in criplit and most get it wrong. But I was silly for worrying. This book did not fall in any of those holes. It had massive fun pointing them out, jumping over them, pretending to fall but never really doing so, waving at me and laughing in my face for grabbing my pearls every time. It's so well-layered and aware. It proved to me that texts can be controversial and difficult, with problematic characters and red flag interactions, without it automatically being at the expensive of anyone disabled. I love it. I hope the author keeps publishing. And I hope early reviewers will learn to promote books in better ways so I'm not fearing them as much beforehand.

There were moments of surprise and laughter:

"Oh my god, I thought immediately, he's a creep. He’s self-identifying as a beta male. He's probably an incel. Fuck!"

And rants about physicals book had me nodding along:

"Here I was, feeling my spine being crushed a little more with every book that I read, while all those ebook-hating able-bodied people who went on and on about how they loved the smell of physical books, or the feel of the turning pages beneath their fingers, persisted in their state of happy oblivion."

I read >95% through (e-ink) screens on lightweight devices. Recently I saw a post that said something like 'ereaders might be handy for thick books, but there's nothing like holding a massive book and feeling the real progress that you're making!' and sorry to admit, I rolled my eyes and thought 'well, good for you, bitch'. We all need a vent sometimes.

Other parts brought out a lot of sadness: "I wanted to catch up", and "I probably didn’t have that many chances left at becoming a person". How often had I thought such things about myself? How long it took to switch my view of myself, and how easy such things come rushing back in the right (wrong!) circumstances...

I liked the humor with bitter undertones, the winks to the reader when the text gives in to toxic societal views. But it was also a little hard and sad. I feel like, even if you exceed expectations and go beyond the limits set up for you, behind them there will be another fence, and another. Can you really own or tell your own stories? I'm not sure.

Anyway, I'm nearing the character limit, oops! I'm happy it's pushed forward as good disability lit, but I'm also sad by everyone focusing in on it so much, as if that's all there is to it. And I'm guilty of that too, albeit out of enthusiasm. I don't want to let it go unsaid that this is a well crafted tale with a fantastic translation! Okbye!

#WomenInTranslation #DisabilityLit #InternationalBooker

📘 "The Book of Disappearance" by Ibtisam Azem, translated from Arabic into English by Sinan Antoon

A speculative fiction about the Israeli occupation of Palestine: What would happen if one day all Palestinians were to disappear? The few hours before and after that event are explored through short chapters, mostly from the perspective of an Israeli citizen and his Palestinian "friend's" journal.

If this doesn't become a modern classic, I don't know what will. This book would be so good to dissect and discuss in schools, but I'm afraid in many places it will go straight from the printing press into the banned books bin.

I read it slowly. Two chapters in particular made me put the book down for a while to breathe. This book has elements that sneak up on you and chapters that punch you in the gut full force. So often I switched between anger, grief, nausea, stress and warmth. I think the novel is incredibly well-crafted with the different perspectives and sources of information we get as the reader, but go in preparing for an emotional read that will keep haunting you.

I strongly wish this will make the IBP shortlist. I might cry if it won't!

#AmReading #WomenInTranslation #FreePalestine #InternationalBooker #IBPReadingChallenge #SpecFic

📘 "Reservoir Bitches" by Dahlia de la Cerda, translated from Spanish into English by Julia Sanches & Heather Cleary

Even though I'm currently not physically able to, I swear I'll find a way to flip a restaurant worth of tables if this doesn't make the IBP 2025 shortlist.

This is a short story collection, the best kind: one in which the stories are interconnected and add to each other. They're about women and for women. Even though they contain domestic violence, rape, femicide, I was able to laugh the whole way through too. I think this is a good balance between dark comedy and an honest look into how men are terrorizing beings, creating the worst version of the world possible.

Every time I read a story, I thought 'I think this is my favorite one so far', but I kept thinking that until the last one. And I still think the last story is the best. After laughing and pointing and gasping along, the last story creates the space for reality to hit and for grief to come.

Every character has its own voice, and that's very clear in the translation. This must be great as an audiobook. I've read one book from both translators before ("Eartheater" and "Pink Slime") and I'll definitely look up more.

Currently, after finishing this book a couple of days ago, I feel like I'm in a little bit of a reading slump. Every other book is just 'yeah.. okay', only because I'm still stuck on this one.

I'm also kind of scared that puritan readers are going to shit on this book because it's about women who aren't perfect victims. I'm also kind of scared elitist readers are going to like this book because they'll coddle the characters, in the same way that 'old people are sweeties' and 'disabled are so inspiring' and 'poor workers are sooo hardworking' and 'third world artisans make the best tapestries, so exotic'. You know? Does this make any sense? Okay, whatever, I'll stop whining and girlboss-gaslight-gatekeeping the correct way to read now. This book is tough as nails, it can stand on its own.

#WomenInTranslation #InternationalBooker #IBPReadingChallenge

📘 "Over de gekte van een vrouw" by Astrid H. Roemer

Available in English as 'On a Woman's Madness', translated from the Dutch by Lucy Scott. An International Booker Prize longlist title I can read in its original language! I can't imagine how difficult this must have been to translate: the order of many sentences, words without an English equivalent, dialect words, English words sewn throughout... whoah.

In this book we follow a young woman, Noenka, leaving home, then leaving an abusive marriage, trying to make her own choices in a life heavily restricted by sexism and the influence colonization has left behind. Its Dutch subtitle is 'a fragmentary biography' -the timeline is not fully chronological, memories and dreams pop up, some dramatic descriptions conceal what's happening here and there. It's confusing, but if you trust the reading process, slowly things become clear and pieces click into place.

The book's title should've prepared me, but I was still shocked at the end of part 3 and with what came afterwards. I also couldn't help myself and became fond of Gabrielle alongside the main character. Gabrielle makes me say: I support women's rights and wrongs, lol. What a mess.

Anyway, it's a difficult read. There are some icky sexual descriptions. I don't think this title will be very popular among longlist readers. Nevertheless, it's a good read and I'm glad it's getting attention. I grew up in The Netherlands and nothing like this was ever on our Dutch reading list. Nothing diverse really, just Max Havelaar, Oeroeg, and dozens of white guys. And although I had to read lots of highly questionable sexual assault, blasphemous, pedophilic and gay sex scenes in high school (iykyk), I don't think there ever was a lesbian one. Man, the things you can randomly think back on while writing a post about a book...

In all seriousness: the Dutch education system is extremely lacking in its education about its ex-colonies and their cruel past. I think books like this getting translated and becoming more well-known is a good thing. At least it was for me, someone originally from the NL, realizing with burning cheeks that I had never read a book from Suriname before.

#AmReading #InternationalBooker #IBPReadingChallenge #books #WomenInTranslation

📘 "On the Calculation of Volume I" by Solvej Balle, translated from Danish into English by Barbara J. Haveland

A literary speculative fiction about a time loop. This is the first in a seven part series and I'm ready for the ride, let's go!

The protagonist relives November 18th over and over again. The book is her log, her attempt at creating some sense and structure in these strange circumstances. Her body seems to continue through time, but time itself seems to loop on the same day.

I love the novel's slow pace, the curiosity it awakens in the reader, together with a slow build-up of dread, grief and hope. There's lots of experimenting with the borders of the day, with expected and unexpected results.

The author has created a fascinating start to a series, with rules to the system that are slowly revealing themselves, but that remain in many ways unknown, or maybe even non-existent. Still, this leads to heaps of speculation, at least from my side. Here are some of my hopes and dreams for all that might be explored in the rest of the series, because I'm so eager to find out:

- Pregnancy, just imagine how strange that would be for the people around the main character. Would it be possible? Would it force a newborn to be stuck in the loop too?

- Murder! Do dying or killed people reset too?

- A progressive illness, how can you ever get treatment if it continues to progress but you're stuck in the same day and your medical file never expands?

- Long-distance travelling in a vehicle with many others. What if you're in a train, boat or a plane for over 24 hours? Does it reset the vehicle and the other people? Or have you caused them to be displaced, creating an odd difference in the timeline?

- A complete unraveling of the sense of spacetime, of the self, of everything...

- Hints of another person stuck on the same day elsewhere, or a (misguided?) search for one.

- Ageing. Will the protagonist ever die of old age on the same day?

I'm probably so far off with all of my thoughts, but guessing and thinking along is half of the fun for me. I'm looking forward to continuing with the series. Book 2 is already out, book 3 and 4 appear to have an English language release scheduled for later in 2025.

#AmReading #WomenInTranslation #InternationalBooker #IBPReadingChallenge #books

📘 "A Leopard-Skin Hat" by Anne Serre, translated from French into English by Mark Hutchinson

I've been infected with the excitement for the International Booker Prize of 2025, because the list is full of interesting indie publishers and diverse titles! I'm not sure yet if I'll read them all, but many have captured my interest, starting with this one.

A Leopard-Skin Hat was such a strange but wonderful read. You know when it's the late afternoon, the daylight is slowly disappearing and turning into warm colors, it enters your window, creating long stripes and shadows in your room, meanwhile lighting up all those tiny dust particles in the air, but it's okay because it feels oddly soothing in its own way? That's how this book felt to me.

It's about the Narrator, who's not really the narrator, and his friendship with Fanny, who has died by suicide. Was it truly a friendship? I'm not sure. It's part character study, part question, but also quite meta and a little funny at times. Its touching prose brings it all together.

There's not really any plot to spoil, but if you don't want to read a quote from the last page, now is the time to leave this post! When I started the last chapter, I thought I wasn't going to like it, but it did slowly win me over, until this part finished off any doubt I could've had:

"But while she is rising into the sky —for she’s still up there, her ascent is far from over— it all comes flooding back. “So I was right!” she cries out. “I wasn’t so crazy, after all.” It’s death, in fact, that confirms to her the beauty and necessity of her former self. The terrible misunderstanding that led to her being regarded as ill when, in reality, she simply lived a rather unconventional life."

Trying really hard not to tear up again!

#AmReading #WomenInTranslation #InternationalBooker #IBPReadingChallenge #books