october reading recap 📚

as seen on my shelf #4

Character — the willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life — is the source from which self-respect springs. Self-respect is something that our grandparents, whether or not they had it, knew all about. They had instilled in them, young, a certain discipline, the sense that one lives by doing things one does not particularly want to do, by putting fears and doubts to one side, by weighing immediate comforts against the possibility of larger, even intangible, comforts― Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem

I’ve always thought it best to go about life with the slight suspicion that you might be very special, tempered with the humility to realize that you could be wrong. That's what I do, anyway. I believe in the power of self-narrative—that is, the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves. And I’m not talking about delusions here, but we’ll get to that later.

I read a book this month with my friend Hannah. Actually, I read it, then demanded she purchase and read it as well. Some things are best shared. While I loved this book, Hannah was less enthused. She felt that the protagonist often did things that were out of character. It was like the author had built this person up to be one thing and then sent her off to do a bunch of contradictory things. People hate when writers do this. I suppose they feel betrayed, not realizing it’s perhaps the truest depiction of humanity. We tell ourselves all sorts of stories about who we are and what we’re like, and then go ahead and contradict ourselves.

This is what happens in the books I read: you have these characters who suffer the worst delusions—delusions of self and delusions of premise. Regarding the latter, they go about life convinced the world works one way, making decisions accordingly, only to find out they are wrong. The world is, in fact, very different than they thought, and they are only just realizing it. This terrifies me—the seduction of sentimentality that causes us to see the world as it is not, and then stumble along upset and confused.

But the delusion of self is worse still. There are times I wish someone would tell these characters that it’s probably wise to allow room for the possibility that they are indeed the problem. What’s so wrong with it being your fault? I find power in that—in considering that the problem might be me, and that I can therefore change my situation. It's unsettling to follow a character who does not know themselves, who does not understand the world, and who absolves themselves of blame even as calamity trails in their wake. Always, they are surrounded by people who echo, “It’s not you, you’re great”—friends who lie out of love, perhaps denying them the gift of accurately bearing witness to themselves.

I’ve mentioned moving around a lot, but what I haven’t said is that when I left home, I did it alone at sixteen, and every move since has been a solo expedition. The friends I made in America, my American friends, often have no concept of what life was like growing up in Lagos. I have a good picture of childhood in America, so when we speak about childhood, it’s on the basis of what we both know—what they lived, and what I imagine. The friends I left back home, when we speak of adulthood, do so with references to the Lagos heat, the unending inflation, the Yoruba demons—things I recall mostly through the memories of a child, a reality I can only imagine now. And then there are the friends I made in Canada who remember me with a thicker accent, slightly unsure, someone who loved to dance but could not swim. When I move back to the States, my time in Germany will be a chapter the people I return to won’t fully understand—not because they don’t want to, but because they weren’t there.

This essay isn’t about friendships, although it could very well be. Friends, especially lifelong friends, are keepers of our stories, bearing witness to who we’ve been all along. 

And if friends are the keepers of our stories, but there is no single friend who’s been present for each chapter—no one person to help you recall the location of that kiosk, the smell of Nürnberger sausages on a winter morning, or the potholes that lined the Lagos streets on your way to church. If everyone you know has only known you for a time, and in a place, although you have been several places at different times, then you must become the keeper of your own story. You have to bear witness to yourself. 

I have always been dedicated to doing this well. I want to understand the plot, the themes, and all the characters that make up my life. I believe in the power of self-narrative, rigorously audited for falsehoods, ever vigilant for delusions. Every day, I pray, “God, let me see things as they truly are, especially myself.”

It would be a shame, wouldn’t it? To be the keeper of your story yet somehow tell it all wrong.

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BOOKS I READ IN OCTOBER

North Woods by Daniel Mason

This was my second attempt at reading this book. The first time I picked it up, I was inching toward a reading slump, and a few chapters in, it was clear this would push me over the edge. North Woods is a sweeping novel about a single house in the woods of New England, told through the lives of those who inhabit it across the centuries. It reads like a collection of interconnected short stories, tracing cycles of history, all anchored by that one house. So I should have loved this, and judging from its Goodreads rating, most people did—but I did not. What’s most frustrating is that there isn’t a specific reason why; the stories just didn’t speak to me, and they seemed to get less engaging as the book went on. I guess this is the fate of many short stories, but it left me surprisingly upset. I wanted to love this!

My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout

Now, this book I loved. After the letdown of North Woods, I was desperate to avoid a reading slump and decided to pick up something I thought I’d enjoy that wouldn’t be too much of a commitment length-wise. (You know I hate to stray from my list!) This is a hard book to describe: “Lucy Barton is recovering slowly from what should have been a simple operation. Her mother, whom she hasn’t spoken to in years, comes to see her. Gentle gossip about people from Lucy’s childhood in Amgash, Illinois, seems to reconnect them, but just below the surface lie the tension and longing that have shaped every aspect of Lucy’s life.” It was quiet, thoughtful, and meditative. It felt very human, grounded, and special. It also read a bit like Japanese literature in that the language was simple but poetic, which I always love. I’ve ordered Olive Kitteridge and have it on good authority (

Pandora Sykes

lol) that I’ll love that too.

Entitlement by Rumaan Alam

This month’s book club pick so we’ll circle back! (Spoiler: I loved it!)

The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas

This one is apparently a Norwegian masterpiece. Siss and Unn spend only one evening together, but it’s so profound that when Unn disappears, Siss’s world is upended… Not much to say here. I read it in one sitting, so I didn’t mind not loving it. It’s one of those books that are entirely metaphorical, which isn’t really my vibe.

One Day by David Nicholls

I’m assuming you know this one. There are certain books I love to buy secondhand—older books, mostly. I got my copy from World of Books; it’s in good condition, but the spine is crinkly and the pages are tanned—perfection. I’m a big Sally Rooney fan, mainly because she introduced me to a type of literature that explores love in a way that feels real. So, reading this older, complex, expansive book felt like a real gift. It was everything I wanted.

Mouth to Mouth Antoine Wilson

Okay, One Day was great, but I needed a good thriller pick-me-up right after. "In a first-class lounge at JFK airport, our narrator listens as Jeff Cook, a former classmate he only vaguely remembers, shares the uncanny story of his adult life—a life that changed course years before, the moment he resuscitated a drowning man." Again, this was a spontaneous pick—not on the list. It was a Monday, and I made the colossal mistake of “reading just a few pages” before I started writing my newsletter. No newsletter was written that Monday. This was that good! If you like The Talented Mr. Ripley, rich people drama, an unreliable narrator, or reading about the art world, you should check this out.

Seven Days in June by Tia Williams

Brooklynite Eva Mercy is a single mom and bestselling erotica writer who is feeling pressed from all sides. Shane Hall is a reclusive, enigmatic, award-winning literary author who, to everyone's surprise, shows up in New York… I don’t read a lot of romance, and I read even less black romance, so I was really looking forward to this one. I liked it enough, especially the portrayal of a main character with chronic illness and the New York black literary scene. Actually, I probably enjoyed reading this more as a way to help me understand those experiences than for the romance itself.

The Rehearsal by Eleanor Catton

Last winter, I read the biggest book in my library at the time, the 900+ page The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton. I bought it the winter before at an Edinburgh Waterstones because of the pretty cover and spent a year terrified to start it. By Christmas time, I conquered my fears, and this Booker Prize winner became one of my favorite books of 2023. Naturally, I immediately purchased Catton’s other two books—Birnam Woods and The Rehearsal, which is about a few things, including a scandal at an all-girls high school, a local theatre putting on a play based on that scandal, and the teenage girls, theatre students, and their teachers involved in this complex tale I could barely understand. Catton loves to experiment with format, and while it worked for me in The Luminaries, I found this far less enjoyable. And yet, I could barely put this down while I was reading it. I think I got through it in two sittings. Once in a while, it happens that I’m not loving a book but can’t tear my eyes away. Not sure what this means.

Magma by Þóra Hjörleifsdóttir

Again, another spontaneous pick! Truly, I picked this one up because it was tiny and I was suspicious of its contents. Magma follows twenty-year-old Lilja, who is in love with an older man who treats her badly and makes her go crazy. I read a book like this once, Acts of Service, which the whole internet declared they loved, but I despised. I despised this book so much that everyone’s enthusiasm for it felt like an organized attempt to gaslight me. I’ve since cooled on books about young women in terrible relationships. But this was much better, possibly because it was much shorter and I went in less hopeful. I read it on a cold Saturday while slowly eating ramen. An all-around inoffensive experience, I’d say.

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie

My first Agatha Christie sat unread on my shelf for two years. This was really fun, and I did not guess the culprit until they were revealed, which is a real achievement. (I can usually guess.) I read this one while getting my braids done, and my only complaint is that it wasn't big enough to fill those seven long hours.

Between You and Me by Joanna Horton

Two twenty-two-year-old best friends meet a decades-older professor the summer after graduating college. Multiple affairs commence, and it’s a hot mess in every sense possible. I made my friend read this with me because I loved it so much and wanted to unpack! Let me be clear, I loathe a young woman spiral, but I love a young woman mess. These girls were so self important yet stupid and misguided, bless their hearts, but I was entertained! My friend was more critical of the book—something about character development and certain tropes—fair enough… but this was FUN!!!

Close Range: Wyoming Stories by Annie Proulx

This is a short story collection about very sad people living in Wyoming. I think someone died in every single story—they weren’t even murdered—they simply died in sad and unfortunate ways. I’ve heard nothing good about Wyoming. The last story in this book is Brokeback Mountain, which was also very tragic to read.

The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers

I do not like to read about Black trauma. It makes me feel things I’d rather not feel. Unfortunately, I hadn’t come to this conclusion when I bought this book two years ago. I chose this as my Big Book of the Month because sometimes one must eschew cowardice for the greater good of clearing their reading backlist, and I’m really glad I did. This is a sprawling family saga chronicling the journey of one American family, from the centuries of the colonial slave trade through the Civil War to the present day. This book was as funny, warm, and addictive as it was tragic. The 4.51 Goodreads rating is 100% deserved. White people did some crazy shit.

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BOOKS I BOUGHT IN OCTOBER

Books were purchased at the slightest provocation last month. This happens sometimes. I forgive myself always.

• Any Human Heart by William Boyd

• The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger

• A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews

• Quietly Hostile: Essays by Samantha Irby

• Creation Lake by Rachel Kushner

• East of Eden by John Steinbeck

• Light Years by James Salter

• The Push by Ashley Audrain

• Thirst for Salt by Madelaine Lucas

• The Tokyo Zodiac Murders by Sōji Shimada

• Madonna in a Fur Coat by Sabahattin Ali

• Orbital by Samantha Harvey

• Liars by Sarah Manguso

• Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout

• Autumn by Ali Smith

• Winter by Ali Smith

ICYMI, I decided to start a bookclub for as seen on where each month I’ll invite one Substack creator to read a book with me and discuss it for the newsletter. Last month I read Entitlement by Rumaan Alam with

Erika Veurink

, founder of EV Salon and who writes Long Live, a secondhand fashion newsletter on Substack.

In Entitlement, Brooke wants. She isn’t in need, but there are things she wants. A sense of purpose, for instance. She wants to make a difference in the world, to impress her mother along the way, to spend time with friends and secure her independence. Her job assisting an octogenarian billionaire in his quest to give away a vast fortune could help her achieve many of these goals. It may inspire new desires as well: proximity to wealth turns out to be nothing less than transformative. What is money, really, but a kind of belief?

Ochuko and Erika: A WhatsApp Transcript 

Ochuko: I was so nervous I wouldn’t like this book since the Goodreads rating was pretty low.

Erika: Okay, yes, I think Rumaan Alam is an often misunderstood genius. The film adaptation of Leave the World Behind was criminal, but the fact that so many smart people got involved is further proof to me that he is really smart.

Ochuko: Need to add that to my TBR, but I think it's safe to say we both loved this book? 

Erika: Yeah, I did. I love reading about real estate and money, especially in NY. It's sort of the low-level consistency of almost every conversation I have here! So I liked that the feeling was captured. I also find writing about work really hard and appreciated that the book went and stayed there.

Ochuko: Lol, cannot relate. No one here talks about money! I loved that the main character was a Black woman with questionable morals and character. She was so cold and unpitiable. That was fun.

Erika: Yes!! This reminded me of Luster a little bit

Ochuko: It's so exciting because you don't often see characters like that. She was so strange but also believable, you know? I just love books about cold women. 

Erika: She was STRANGE, which we don’t see enough. She was shifty! Changing her mind all the time! I love that.

Ochuko: Okay, back to the NY thing. I was talking to someone, and they said they thought the book represented NY really well. Obviously, I can't relate, but what do you think?

Erika: Yes! The constant need to level up and the question of when it's enough was huge—and is huge—in my life. And comparison! We all live so close to each other, and it's inevitable, but it's a much bigger part of my life here than when I was in Iowa.

Ochuko: So interesting because this is one of the reasons I’m squeamish about the prospect of moving to NY. I have these two sides of me where I’m super intense and a workaholic but would also like a ranch with five kids. Lol we’ll see. 

Erika: I think you’ll love it here. Did any part of it make you feel self conscious about your relationship to work?

Ochuko: Nah, I feel very separate from my day job so no but I have been in many situations where I’m surrounded by serious wealth without being wealth myself. Its surreal. What did you think about the book's ending? It reminded me of The Guest. I struggled with both.

Erika: I wanted more, always, and felt the final chapters were a touch rushed, but I’m also partial to things being tied up perfectly.

Ochuko: Same. And that party scene was weird. I think I need to reread that. You remember that weird subplot about the guy who was poking people on the subway? What was the point of that?

Erika: Omg YES! I’m not sure either, but I liked the way it sort of kept the entire story on edge. When terrible things happen in the city, they penetrate that everyday artery of the subway, and it’s sort of like a collective experience, even if that horrible thing happened to one person.

Ochuko: Freaky. Great literary tool though

Erika: How did her brother and his partners pregnancy land for you?

Ochuko: Hmm I dont know that I gave this much thought. I found it interesting that she had no romantic interest though. Thats pretty hard to pull off in a story but it made sense for her.

Erika: Agree, and also, I kind of like when there are entire chunks of a person's personality missing, lol.

Ochuko: Me too! But especially because she was a Black woman. So many things were subversive, I felt. Her coldness, lack of romantic interest, and confidence. I don’t think she complained about her body or looks once!

Erika: Wait, thats true!

Ochuko: How would you diagnose Brooke?

Erika: Unwell and a narcissist.

Ochuko: Oh, definitely unwell. Makes me wonder why she chose the careers she did—teaching and social work. So unnhinged. 

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This month,

Martha

and I will be reading Wellness by Nathan Hill. It’s a chunker but I’m already half way through. I have thoughts…

See you next month XO