History of Love, by Nicole Krauss, is my favorite novel of the year so far. For some perspective, here is my book list.

1. Cakes and Ale, W. Somerset Maugham
2. The Iliad, Homer
3. The Color Purple, Alice Walker
4. The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
5. My Antonia, Willa Cather
6. Mosquito Wings, me
7. Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willa Cather
8. Les Misérables, Victor Hugo
9. Counterfeiters, Andre Gide
10. The World According to Garp, John Irving
11. Brief History of Time, Stephen Hawking
12. Mosquito Wings, me
13. Elements of Style, Strunk and White 
14. Journey to the End of the Night, Celine
15. Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald
16. The Quran
17. Mosquito Wings, me
18. We Are Totally Normal, Naomi Kanakia
19. Adaptation: The Shooting Script, Charlie Kaufman
20. Romeo and Juliet
21. American Beauty: The Shooting Screenplay, Alan Ball
22. Alphabet, Inger Christianson
23. Richard II
24. The Writer’s Journey, Christopher Vogler
25. The Torah
26. Story, Robert McKee
27. Henry IV part I
28. King John
29. Henry IV part II
30. The Orphan Master’s Son by Adam Johnson
31. Henry V
32. The Militia House by John Milas
33. End Zone by Don Delillo
34. History of Love by Nicole Krauss

It’s October. Last year, I read 59 books. It seems hard to imagine reaching that number this year. I mean, there’s just no way. I’m okay with that.

I can’t expect to finish every year having read more books than the year before. I know that. I also know that the number doesn’t matter very much. I’m not keeping a book list to punish myself, I’m keeping a book list because I’m sure that I’ll read more if I’m keeping track. I know too that more reading equals better writing.

The 34 books, though, have been pretty good ones.

Henry IV part one has been my favorite Shakespeare play. That’s a surprise to me. I read it a few years ago when I TA’ed for a Shakespeare class, and I thought it was just okay. What made the difference this time was reading the histories in chronological order.

I started with King John, which is irrelevant to Henry (and King John is not as bad as everyone says—there’s the eye-gouging and death you expect from all good Shakespeare).

Then I read Richard the II. Richard the II is a prequel to Henry IV part one, and contains many of the same characters. I thought it was only okay, but it gave me context for the rest of the Henriad. On my second reading of Henry IV part one, I understood characters and backstories, it was easier for me to keep track of everything, and the scenes had much more punch. I loved it.

I appreciated History of Love because it was funny and moving. As I read the ending on the FlixBus, I was fighting back tears. Not only that, History of Love has an unconventional structure—threads with multiple perspectives that merge together as the book progresses. I guess that’s not unconventional anymore, but History of Love manages the multiple threads well—each is interesting, each is full of pathos and well-written.

I could complain that some of the machinations of the plot near the very end felt a bit convoluted to me. (No spoilers, but I’m thinking of the last acts of Bird). That said, I was so moved by the final pages, I didn’t even care. I don’t expect any book to be perfect, I just expect a novel to deliver a killer ending, and History of Love’s ending is killer.

That’s all I have this week, people. I’m always grateful for your readership.