Books of my year

Berlin Alexanderplatz, by Alfred Doblin.  I'd been waiting ten years to read this, since Mum gave me a copy for Christmas in 2008. Unfortunately, that edition was all in German, but it's the thought that counts, right? I finally caught up with the first English translation after it was published last year. Well worth the wade through the stream of conciousness of one Franz Biberkopf (Google translate that one,) if you go with the flow then this'll be one of the very best books you'll ever read.

Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut. Because there are days when I just wish I was Billy Pilgrim. An amazing literary take on what it means to be alive.

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway.  A long-sitter on my bookshelf, but I do believe that books come to you when you're supposed to read them.  Three long days in the mountains outside Segovia, Spain, explore love, war, and sacrifice. Is anything worth it, and if so, what?

Our Man in Havana by Graham Greene.  The first (but not the last) Greene novel for me, in which 50s Cuba tumbles out of every page, through the eyes of British vacuum cleaner salesman, James Wormold.  Is Greene's chaotic and comedic take on international espionage just farce, or closer to the truth than we'd like to think? Next up for me, The Comedians.

Farewell My Lovely by Raymond Chandler.  Chandler's Los Angeles is dark, gritty, lonely and unkind, but PI Philip Marlowe more than meets the challenge in his usual Bogartesque style. Something about having been to LA makes Chandler's works stand out slightly more for me.  Atmospheric.