march reading recap 📚

as seen on my shelf #8

Life is complex, conceptually dominated by binaries but never wholly contained by them
― Zadie Smith, Recitatif

The other day, a friend told me she thought the use of corporate phrases like “Q1” in non-corporate contexts was strange. Even off-putting, she said. So now I find myself in search of a simple phrase to help me do away with the use of “quarters” in my daily vernacular. Seasons maybe? Suggestions are welcome.

Anyway, my Q1 was great. Reading-wise, it’s been pretty spectacular. I spent most of January in Portland, where, for hours on end I was stuck to my couch reading book after book, or dragging my boyfriend to Powell’s—which was dangerously only a few minutes’ walk away. Coins were spent. In February, I was back home in Germany, settling into the routine of my 9 to 5, writing as seen on, reading a bunch, spending time with friends, and doing things women in their mid-twenties do. I also turned 26 and made some life-changing decisions. March was wonderful all around, mostly because the sun came out to remind me that my life is indeed a movie. I tell you, it doesn’t take much to feel like a main character in Nuremberg, Germany. April has been fun so far; I took a day trip to Munich last week.

I've read 4 books so far in April so number are slightly skewed

I read 41 books in the first three months of the year, most of which I enjoyed well enough. The more I read, the better I get at selecting books to read. This time last year, I was deep in a reading slump brought on by one too many duds and cowered by the size of the unread pile. I’m happy to report my unread pile is at least three times the size it was then, but I’m now confident it’s mostly good stuff in there. Consider me up to the task.

It is rumoured in my circles that the reason I’m able to read so much is because I don’t watch any TV. False. The secret, my friends, is to read while watching TV. Works best with 90s/early 2000s sitcoms. Am I the only one who does this?

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BOOKS I READ IN MARCH

Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors

Leaving this book unread on my shelf for as long as I did was an impressive act of self-control. In Blue Sisters, three estranged siblings return to their family home in New York after their beloved sister's death. Avery, the eldest and a recovering heroin addict turned strait-laced lawyer, lives with her wife in London; Bonnie, a former boxer, works as a bouncer in LA following a devastating defeat; and Lucky, the youngest, models in Paris while trying to outrun her hard-partying ways. I went into this book with incredibly high expectations—I love a family saga, complex female characters, themes of loss and grief—and I had adored Cleopatra and Frankenstein, Coco Mellors’ debut novel. Unfortunately, this didn’t quite scratch that itch. The narrative felt a tad too simplistic, as did the characters. It was very much: Girl A is the loud one, Girl B is the sad one… etc. etc. I wanted more depth than was delivered; more nuance to each character. I also wish we had gotten more insight into their mother. I found her so interesting and think a closing chapter from her POV would have been excellent.

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger

A whole 26 years it took me to read this book, and not a moment too soon. Stream of consciousness narratives are usually my least favorite thing to read, likely because they often place me in the mind of some depressed twenty something woman getting up to baffling amounts of foolishness. Still, every so often, I come across an author who is able to establish such a singular voice—a unique inner monologue with its tics, ramblings, and turns of phrase—that I find myself completely taken. Holden, a disillusioned and alienated teenager, recently expelled from prep school and wandering through New York City, felt completely real to me. His disdain for adulthood and “phoniness,” his love for his sister, his grief for his brother, the crush he never did call, and above all—his struggle to understand his feelings and actions—so vividly captured the teenage experience. I just wanted to give him a hug, and then beg him to get his life together.

The Birthday Party by Laurent Mauvignier

In rural France, the nearly abandoned hamlet of the Three Lone Girls is home to Patrice, his wife Marion, their daughter Ida, and their neighbor Christine. As Patrice plans a surprise for Marion’s fortieth birthday, inexplicable events start to disrupt the hamlet’s quiet existence. When night falls, strangers arrive, setting off a nightmarish chain of events. I’m declaring 2025 my Fitzcarraldo year, thanks in part to

Martha

. Taut would be the best word to describe this book. The whole thing unfolds over a single day, following our characters as they prepare for a birthday party we know won’t go as planned. The signs are there—the small premonitions, the furtive exchanges, the tense inner monologues. The beauty of this narrative was in the details— a single movement or fleeting idea could unravel across a long paragraph. The Birthday Party is one of those books you have to fully give yourself over to, but it is completely worth it. As someone who loves thrillers, literary fiction, and family sagas, this was everything.

Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Pandora Sykes

and I had a very long, very fascinating (if I do say so myself) conversation about this book—so go read that!

A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews

2025 is also my Miriam Toews year. A Complicated Kindness follows Nomi, a Mennonite teen grappling with life in a strict, secluded community after her mother and sister abandon her and her father, a kind but passive man. I’ve heard this book described as a bit of a romp, but I actually found it incredibly sad. I haven’t read much about high-demand religious groups, so this was a pretty jarring read. The book is narrated in the first person, and while I know I’ve just said I don’t enjoy sad-girl stream-of-consciousness narratives, this proves again that it’s all about voice and circumstance. Nomi, like Holden, felt completely real—as did their despair. Beneath a layer of scalding wit and teen abandon lies a well of pain and helplessness that deepens as the story progresses. Toews herself grew up Mennonite, and many of her characters share that background. This was such an evocative and well-written story—I’m looking forward to going through her backlist. Let me know if you have any suggestions for what to read next!

Seventeen: A Coming of Age Story by Joe Gibson

My nonfiction read for the month. It’s 1992 and Joe is a seventeen year old attending a posh English college. When his teacher, an attractive woman in her midthirties, takes an interest in him, Joe feels like it’s a dream come true—until the realities of their relationship—the sex, lies, and coercion—come to define his life. This was a truly harrowing read, similar to My Dark Vanessa. I’ll admit, because the underaged party was a boy and not a girl, I went in expecting to feel different—somehow less affected—but that was not the case. Written thirty years later, the memoir is steeped in loss and regret. I only wish we had gotten more of the author's reflection on those years and the aftermath, as the relationship truly did come to define his life.

Bellies by Nicola Dinan

This was so good! Ming and Tom meet through friends at their local university drag night and quickly start dating. Then they graduate—their lives, friends, and ambitions fused together. But shortly after they move to London to start their next chapter, Ming announces her intention to transition. What follows is an exploration of everything that comes next—the messy parts, life’s tragedies, but all the love too. This was a genuinely fun book to read in that I loved all the characters and enjoyed their dynamics. It felt young in a way that was both familiar and exciting—very Rooneyesque in that sense. I also appreciated how it tackled love and gender—less instructive, more human. Someone on Goodreads described Bellies as “achingly tender, honest, and bittersweet—yet uplifting.” Completely agree.

The Hours by Michael Cunningham

I picked this up because I wanted to read Mrs. Dalloway but couldn’t get into it. So I thought, oh well, this is the next best thing. I had read Cunningham’s latest novel, Day, last year and really enjoyed it. I loved this even more. The Hours interweaves the lives of three women—Virginia Woolf in 1920s England as she writes Mrs. Dalloway, a 1950s housewife named Laura Brown who is reading the novel, and Clarissa Vaughan, a modern day New Yorker planning a party for her dying friend. Each woman grapples with themes of identity, mental illness, love, and the passage of time, echoing Woolf’s original narrative. This was a quiet novel. There was something so still, yet cinematic about the characters and the settings—perhaps it was the muted tragedy of these otherwise quite privileged women. I’m not even sure if this is what Cunningham intended, but The Hours reminded me how universal the experience of pain and loneliness is, and that everyone, everywhere, has felt some version of it. Even writing this now, I feel a little melancholy. Truly adored this book.

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah

And then I read The Nightingale, which was a gut punch in quite a different way. I usually stay away from WWII novels—I’m not in the business of crying over fiction. But this book had sat on my shelf for nearly three years, and the Goodreads rating is insanely high, so I finally decided to see what it was all about. The Nightingale tells the story of two French sisters during the Second World War. The older, Vianne, stays in their small village with her daughter, forced to make one impossible choice after another to keep her family alive. Isabelle, younger and rebellious, flees to Paris to join the Resistance. I can totally see why people enjoyed this book so much—it was heartfelt, heartbreaking, and well written. Both sisters were interesting and sympathetic. I also enjoyed it, though perhaps not as much as most.

Hope by Andrew Ridker

I bought this book because

Tembe Denton-Hurst

said it was one of her favourite reads of 2023, and I trust Tembe’s taste. Also, I’d heard it was a Franzen-style family saga, and I eat those up for breakie! The Greenspans are a liberal Jewish family in Brookline, Massachusetts. Father, Scott, is a successful physician with his own cardiology practice. His wife, Deb, is a pillar of the community who spends her free time helping resettle refugees. Their daughter, Maya, works at a distinguished New York publishing house, and their son, Gideon, is preparing to follow in his father’s footsteps. They are an exceptional family from an exceptional place, living in exceptional times. But then Scott does something dumb at work, and it all comes undone. I don’t know, guys. Do you ever read a book that should work, but just doesn’t? I just couldn’t ever find my flow with this one—there was a feeling of being overly aware that this was a book that I was reading, and that it was kind of like a Franzen style but not. Almost like I could feel the author’s wheels turning across the pages. Shame, because I was so sure it.

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

So this happened! I’m going to assume you all know what A Little Life is about, so I’ll go straight in. First of all, you should know that I did not cry. Parts of this book were incredibly hard to read—almost nonsensically tragic—but because I knew what was coming, and I knew it would be bad, I decided to skim the worst parts and ask ChatGPT to fill in any minor details I might have missed. A girl has to protect her heart. Still, I LOVED this book! Omg! A lot of the discourse surrounding A Little Life is about Jude and his story (for obvious reasons), but what drew me in was the scale of these men’s lives—their friendships, relationships, careers—the trajectory of their lives. This read like a family saga to me, but of found family. I really enjoyed the sprinkling in of minor characters (Asian Henry, Black Henry), and getting a peek into each of the four friends’ different worlds via their careers. The world they were living in felt fully actualized. The one glaring thing about this book was that there were NO WOMEN! I have no idea how (or why) Yanagihara did this. The world these men inhabited was so devoid of female influence, even the mothers and romantic partners were so uninstrumental to the plot that I can’t recall any of their names. If anyone has a theory, I’d love to hear it. There are a few other bits of the plot and themes I took issue with as well, but overall this was five stars for me. I want to discuss in the comments, though, so share your thoughts, please!

You Have to Make Your Own Fun Around Here by Frances Macken

I read this at the same time as A Little Life to offset its intensity. I have nothing good to say about this book, so I won’t say anything at all.

Chocolat by Joanne Harris

I acquired this book years ago from the home of a friend I was staying with for a while—long before I picked up reading again. I wanted something wholesome and comforting after A Little Life, and this was it. In the tiny French village of Lansquenet, where nothing much has changed in a hundred years, beautiful newcomer Vianne Rocher (another Vianne!) and her exquisite chocolate shop arrive and instantly begin to play havoc with Lenten vows. Her arrival challenges the town’s rigid values, much to the chagrin of the self-righteous and judgmental priest, Père Reynaud. This tiny book felt like such magic! The chapters alternated between Vianne’s and Père Reynaud’s POVs, and I actually really loved the priest’s. So amusing. There’s a pretty popular movie adaptation of the book starring Johnny Depp, but with lots of plot changes and a far lighter storyline. There were some really dark parts to the book, which was kind of confusing. Still, it scratched my itch and was a great old palette cleanser.

Recitatif by Toni Morrison

Two girls—Twyla and Roberta—meet in a shelter as children. One is Black and the other is White, but Morrison deliberately withholds which is which, forcing readers to confront their own racial assumptions. Through their encounters over the years, the story explores memory, identity, and the uneasy dynamics of race and class in America. This might be the most innovative book I’ve ever read. Seriously, you all should pick it up. I rarely read forewords, but this one—written by Zadie Smith—was the perfect companion to unraveling (or trying to unravel) this novella. The story itself is a puzzle: you search for clues in the girls’ speech, neighborhoods, relationships, music, even the side of the picket line they’re on—but nothing is definitive. I couldn’t say for sure who was Black or White, and that’s the genius of it.

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NEW ON MY SHELF

*because I don’t want you to think I’m buying all these book, I’ve decided to categorise them! These were the books I was kindly gifted by publishers this month and are already out

• Cloudless by Rupert Dastur

• The Lamb by Lucy Rose

• The Granddaughter by Bernhard Schlink

• Fundamentally by Nussaibah Younis

• Theft by Abdulrazak Gurnah

• The City Changes Its Face by Eimear McBride

• The Hypocrite by Jo Hamya

• Meet Me at the Surface by Jodie Matthews

• Your Love Is Not Good by Johanna Hedva

• May All Your Skies Be Blue by Fíona Scarlett

• Our Sister Killjoy by Ama Ata Aidoo

• Universality by Natasha Brown

• A Beautiful Lack of Consequence by Monika Radojevic

• Soft Core by Brittany Newell

*and these are the books I bought (still a lot. whatever)

• Perfection by Vincenzo Latronico

• Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor

• Comedic Timing by Upasna Barath

• Eurotrash by Christian Kracht

• As Young as This by Roxy Dunn

• Gender Theory by Madeline Docherty

• There's a Monster Behind the Door by Gaëlle Bélem

• The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley

• The Amendments by Niamh Mulvey

• Reservoir Bitches by Dahlia de la Cerda

• Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy by John Le Carré

• Abigail by Magda Szabó

• People of the City by Cyprian Ekwensi

• The Post-Office Girl by Stefan Zweig

• The Book of Disappearance by Ibtisam Azem

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ON YOUR RADAR: APRIL NEW RELEASES

*new section alert! gifted from publishers; curated by yours truly. if your literary taste aligns with mine, check these out

• Great Big Beautiful Life by Emily Henry | VIKING | 04/07

Two writers—sunny Alice and brooding Pulitzer-winner Hayden—compete to write the biography of elusive heiress Margaret Ives on a dreamy island. As they navigate NDAs, scattered truths, and unexpected chemistry, the line between fact and fiction blurs. What unfolds is a layered story of rivalry, legacy, and a possible love story of their own.

• Table For One by Emma Gannon | HARPER COLLINS | 04/24

Willow’s perfectly planned life unravels when a sudden heartbreak upends her relationship and future. As she struggles with loneliness and watches her friends move on, she’s forced to confront who she is without the life she envisioned. Through solitude and unexpected inspiration, Willow begins to rediscover the most important relationship of all—her relationship with herself.

• Fun and Games by John Patrick McHugh | 4th ESTATE | 04/24

In his final summer on a small Irish island, seventeen-year-old John Masterson grapples with the messy transition into adulthood. While navigating a rocky romance, football team drama, and his mother’s public scandal, John wrestles with identity, belonging, and the desire to escape.

• The Narrowing: A Journey Through Anxiety and the Body by Alexandra Shaker | VIKING | 04/01

An exploration of the connection between anxiety and the body by a clinical psychologist, drawing from the latest research as well as historical and cultural insights through time, arguing that only through understanding anxiety’s role in our lives can we transform it into resilience.

• What a Time to Be Alive by Jenny Mustard | SCEPTRE | 04/24

At twenty-one, Sickan arrives in Stockholm hoping to reinvent herself after a lonely, isolated upbringing. As she experiences friendship, love, and intimacy for the first time, her relationship with the confident Abbe challenges her sense of self. What a Time to Be Alive is a sharp, tender coming-of-age story about longing to belong, the complexity of firsts, and the cost of trying to fit in.

• Days of Light by Megan Hunter | PICADOR | 04/17

On Easter Sunday in 1938, nineteen-year-old Ivy feels her life is about to begin as her bohemian family gathers in the countryside for a fateful lunch. When her brother’s new love interest arrives, the evening takes a turn that will shape Ivy’s future in unexpected ways. Spanning six transformative days over six decades, Days of Light is a luminous, meditative novel about art, love, and the lasting impact of singular moments.

• Heart Lamp: Selected Stories by Banu Mushtaq | AND OTHER STORIES | 04/08

Heart Lamp gathers twelve sharp, tender stories depicting the everyday lives of women and girls in Muslim communities in southern India. With wit, vividness, and emotional depth, Banu Mushtaq captures generational tensions, gender dynamics, and quiet acts of resistance. Spanning decades of work, this acclaimed collection showcases Mushtaq’s fearless voice and deep empathy, offering a lasting portrait of resilience amid social constraint.

• Fish Tales by Nettie Jones | VIRAGO PRESS | 04/15

Fish Tales by Nettie Jones follows Lewis Jones, a glamorous and free-spirited Black woman navigating the bohemian scenes of 1970s New York and Detroit. Alongside her devoted husband and her stylish gay best friend, she indulges in a whirlwind of sex, drugs, and lavish pleasures. Her chaotic world is upended by a manipulative lover, forcing a confrontation with the blurred lines between freedom, intimacy, identity, and control.

Pandora Sykes

and I are reading this for our May book chat, so def get this one.

• Sister Europe by Nell Zink | VIKING | 04/24

A sharp, satirical tale of wealth, art, and the absurdities of human connection. When a royal matriarch falls ill and can’t attend her own gala, a mismatched group of guests is hastily assembled to honor an aging Arabic author in Berlin. The evening spirals into chaos as personalities clash, secrets unravel, and a late-night food run becomes unexpectedly transformative.

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WHAT YOU READ THIS MONTH

Each month, I’ll be asking some of my favorite readers to share a book they read that month—one they loved or one they hated—and tell me all about it. Readers are welcome to be featured. Just reply to one of my emails with a selfie and a paragraph at any point during the month :)

Marta Carvalho

read The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

I read The Haunting of Hill House this month after one of my favorite authors, Mona Awad, highly recommended it in an interview. Not that the book needed any endorsements—Shirley Jackson is horror royalty, and The Haunting of Hill House is a modern classic—but it was the push I needed to finally pick up a copy.

Lately, I’ve been fascinated by horror and how all the essential elements that make a horror story successful—the suspense, the spine-tingling tension, the existential nature of the genre—can be effectively translated onto the page. So I approached The Haunting of Hill House as a case study, trying to stay aware of the little mechanisms Jackson uses to tell the story and annotating as I read.

As a reader, the book does not disappoint: it’s surprisingly funny, it explores themes of isolation and loneliness, and that ending could’ve been written yesterday. But as an aspiring horror/suspense writer, it’s mandatory reading.

Mali read Good Girl by Aria Aber

I want to start off by saying that I loved Nila, our protagonist and narrator. She’s only 19, Afghan, and carries a lot of shame about being Afghan. I loved her character and coming to understand where this shame comes from. I loved the juxtaposition of her partying in the hottest clubs in Berlin while also getting chapters on her childhood, growing up poor, and the shame that came from that, as well as her witnessing her parents struggle as immigrants in a city that’s quite hostile against Afghans.

F’s Substack

read Pig by Matilde Pratesi

A book I loved reading in March is Pig by Matilde Pratesi. When I first heard about it I was like – set in London? ✅ About female friendship? ✅ Consider me sold! I wasn’t disappointed, luckily. The premise is that two friends live together in Twickenham. Vale is an innocent, kind, and very anxious person who is described in a way that suggests she may have autism. She has loved pigs since she was young, and she knows absolutely everything there is to know about them. Her affinity with pigs has always been a comfort despite the negative attitudes some people in her life have expressed. One of these people is her friend and housemate Clara. Clara posts a note each morning telling Vale what to wear and what to have for lunch. Clara does not like it when Vale comes home late from work at a local indie bookshop because that means she will have her bath and dinner late. Clara does not like Vale mixing with other people because that means she has abandoned Clara.