Sat, 27th December, 2025
Last year I set a challenge for myself to read more, with the goal of 10 books by the end of the year. I ended up reading 27. I may have started and read chunks of other ones that I ended up pausing or giving up on, but 27 full books was still a good result, considering that the year before I have read a whopping 9.
Instead of adding book reviews, lists or ratings on one of the websites made for it, I have instead kept track of it on the humble Notes app as a table, and instead of rating them on a number scale, I have marked those that left a particular impact on me with a star. And I will talk about those particularly memorable ones today.
Since I haven’t written anything on the books beforehand as they were read, I will have to rely on my memory. So instead of these being a proper review, they are more of a note and a testament on how lasting the impact the books have had, especially the ones finished earlier in the year (the list is chronological in that regard).
I am a general fan of dystopian novels. The classics such as 1984, Brave New World, and Fahrenheit 451, are all great in their own way and definitely deserve their place in culture that they have. And I would easily say The Memory Police deserves a similar spot up there. Besides them all having a similar shared theme, I will not devalue the story by simply comparing it to the others, because it is more than just a Japanese 1984. The story is set on an unnamed island in Japan, where memories are controlled by a dystopian like regime that governs the people there. People would just wake up one day and realise that one of the items or concepts are being erased, and will go out and get rid of them. These are some of the most visually descriptive and memorable scenes I’ve read, especially due to the magical nature of the whole ordeal. It would often be a beautiful ceremony, where people would send things down the river in a synchronised manner, or organise burning pyres in neighbourhoods. As a parallel to the main story we also had a sub-story of the main character who was writing her own novel about a mute girl in a writing class with a strangely controlling relationship with her teacher, which to me served both as a metaphor through which the main character experiences living in that controlling outside world where memories are being manipulated, but also as a core of the experience of the whole book, and as it went on the two intersected and melded together in a way that felt like they were two testaments to the one idea and worked together as such, which was a greatly interesting concept in itself.
Sci-Fi is one of those genres that often get mocked and dismissed for their winding fantastical sagas full of jargon and space stuff that only appeal to nerds. Now while that might be true for many stories in Sci-Fi, The Three-Body Problem really subverted many expectations for me. Firstly, particularly the first book, it does not really almost at all on spaceships and outer worlds and instead follows the real world as it exists now, zeroing in one one character, a gifted astrophysicist, who has suffered a traumatic event during Mao’s Cultural Revolution, which among other things led to a series of circumstances that got her to be the person who will later be the first to contact an unknown civilisation from a distant planet while working in an experimental military base at the height of the Cold War. Yes, that is already a very nerdy premise, it is important for me to note that it is a very realistic nerdy premise. For the entirety of the first book, barring some plot related fictional events, the world in the story is strikingly real.
One particular thing I really love about the progression of some of these important figures in the trilogy is the way various influences shape their actions. Most of the characters are either high level academics, military generals, or world leaders, that tend to have really strong beliefs about how things should work, what humanity deserves and doesn’t, and what the fate of all of us should ultimately be. For one of the main characters of the first book, Ye Wenjie, as mentioned, her personality has been massively influenced by the horrors of the Cultural Revolution, and she also gets her hands on a banned book by an American environmentalist whose ideas also influenced her view on the state of the planet, combined in a way with her own past, that made her have an eerily realistic but bleak view of the world, which in turn all led her on a path of a sort of a morally ambiguous figure whose actions are basically the starting point for the entire plot. This is a notable point for me because these sorts of things really happen. I have been reading a bit of the book called The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes (not finished so definitely won’t be on this list, though it’s a contender for it for next year), where the story follows the physicists who contributed to the entire field of atomic energy, and we see there as well real world examples of people who would only have made these controversial but important breakthroughs due to specific influences by philosophers and historical events that personally affected them, and how a single variable separated a standard, classical academic from a trailblazer who pushed the field into a level not thought possible or one that directly challenged the great established methods and facts.
The trilogy continues in sequence, each book being slightly longer, and covering a wider scope. While the first book really only covers the story from about the 1960s to the 2000s, the next one, The Dark Forest (also my personal favourite of the three), pushes the timeline further and goes into the next two whole centuries. Mind you, at this point in this story which is ostensibly a story about a hostile alien invasion, we still are yet to see any aliens or crazy technology or laser fights in space. Instead we are working with the logistics of this kind of event being handled by bureaucratic powers and an arrogant human perseverance even though the future doesn’t look very bright. What results is some of the best written plots I’ve read where the context of the first book is served as the seed for this complex issue that is trying to be resolved by some of the top minds in science, where every character has a place, where the plot reasons that constrain the story have logical sense, and where the resolution is a wholly unpredictable, bittersweet, but still satisfying end, that felt impossible looking back. The tail end of the book, literally the final 30 or so pages, provide such a powerful conclusion that makes you feel rewarded for following along and being with all these characters, as well as being its own ethical conundrum in itself.
While the second book does provide an amazing and almost perfect ending, the story does still continue in Death’s End. The time scale in this book starts right where we left off in The Dark Forest, and covers all the way until… the end of time? It’s a bit complicated but it makes total sense in the story, because now we are jumping a bit back and forth, so this book is a bit of an epic of its own, covering multiple characters, old and new, across time and space. Following a devastating fate humans faced in the second book, we are tying things together and finally figuring out what the fate of humanity is, and in this way this might be the most philosophical book of the three. But it is also the most science-y book of the three, because as we go along things start going real theoretical real fast, including spatial dimensions, speed of light manipulation, curvature propulsion, and many crazy concepts that humans are facing in order to find a safe space in a hostile environment. The book introduces many plot points and juggles multiple things, and it made me worried it cannot make it all work especially after such a concise and no-waste book that The Dark Forest was, but it does manage to pull through in the end, in its own satisfying way, though an incredibly melancholic note. It’s impossible to talk about what makes Death’s End work without spoiling many plot points which I have tried not to do this whole time, and so will leave it just as a note that, if you are reading through the series and are wondering like I did if the 3rd book is worth it, I say definitely yes. The Dark Forest will remain my favourite, but Death’s End also grew on me over time, and is the perfect end to the whole saga. All three of the books have exceeded all the expectations I’ve had and they made me consider getting on more classic Sci-Fi to see if anything can at least come close.
Known broadly for Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury was one of those writers that I always knew the name of but haven’t read any of their books. Even Fahrenheit 451 was something I have read only after this one. So I was going into the book not knowing what to expect other than this being an anthology of short stories. I have instantly fell in love with the way this man writes, and the language combined with the material made this one of the most magical books I’ve read, even including the straight up magical realist novels that are down below. And there’s not much explicitly magical here, other than the feeling of seeing the world through the eyes of an imaginative child in the summer time. The story/stories follow our protagonist who is going through little adventures in this one town in America, interacting with neighbours, family members, friends, and townsfolk. Every chapter is its own contained story but they all share the same world, and some share characters as well. But the biggest strength is the whole unifying world and perspective, the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia towards a place you know but haven’t actually been to, because it evokes those vignettes of childhood summer time, away from school, where everything felt lush and colourful.
But far from it just being a childhood nostalgia goggles simulator, this book contains some of the most powerful stories about life and death, very impactful insights into the implications of getting old, of grasping at halcyon memories, reliving life through traces of what once was, capturing it and finding a way to preserve it against the sands of time. And this is what I believe Bradbury really knows how to express, in words that resonate with that common feeling we all have. It was a brief and easy read, but the impact it left was immense. I see myself going back to this one in the future.
This is a book that has been living all scattered in my head, both due to its contents and the fact that I read it in chunks. Started it in summer of 2024, and took a break about a third of the way in because I felt like I couldn’t follow where it was going. And that is definitely something that’s hard to do. The story flows in a very stream of consciousness way, there are many characters that have similar or sometimes identical names so it makes it hard to try distinguish them, all while strange and unexplainable things happen in the story - these are mentioned in passing, and often the story just moves on as if it’s something normal - so it all culminated with me almost giving up on the book.
However, it is luckily a story that is super interesting regardless, and it was in the back of my mind for a while. So after a while, a few months later, I picked it back up and continued. Of course, I was pushed right back into the same world with the same issues I faced, but this time I just decided to push through it and read it in the way that it is written - that is, in that same stream of consciousness way. I just followed without any concern that I am actually distinguishing these characters, and without acknowledging all the strange happenings as strange, as if it were some long and elaborate dream. And this is exactly what I think is the “correct” way to do it, as after that the whole magic of the book really shone through. Ironically, by purposefully not trying to follow the story, I was able to follow the story, and take all that strangeness and beauty of the descriptions in. It is a lovely book about life and death, about war and peace, about youth and old age, and about a story of a people, condensed into this one small, strange village deep in the forests of South America somewhere. It was indeed weird and confusing but in the best way possible.
Speaking of weird and confusing, I went right back into that after finishing the previous book. And this time it was Murakami’s weirdness. I am and was at the time already familiar with Murakami somewhat, as I have already read two of his novels - The Wind Up Bird Chronicle (amazing), and Norwegian Wood (not so amazing) - so I kind of knew what I was getting into. But even with all the familiarity in the world nothing can really prepare you for a story where an old man who has the ability to speak with cats is going on a road trip with a truck driver who as a result gets dragged into various strange situations including the Colonel Sanders of KFC pimping out sex workers for him while trying to locate a magical stone from a nearby shrine.
If One Hundred Years of Solitude was like an elaborate dream, Kafka on the Shore was like a fever induced nightmare from which you wake up disoriented and in cold sweat wondering what year it is. It is however, also a great experience, and certainly a unique one, with some of the most memorable characters I have encountered in a book. While The Wind Up Bird Chronicle remains my favourite Murakami, perhaps obviously so considering the name of this website, Kafka on the Shore certainly did not disappoint and it was able to capture much of the mystery and eeriness of that book while being a very distinct thing, though a bit more concise and focused on one clear line. Easy to read as well, as I think I blazed through it in only a few days.
Every now and then you read a book that just, besides leaving an impact, completely imprints itself into your mind and you know even before finishing that this will be something you will continue thinking about, referencing, going over in your memory, and cherishing. And to me this happened quite early on in East of Eden.
Right off the bat, Steinbeck is so good at painting a picture with words, and even without ever stepping foot anywhere close to California, I really felt like I was there with all the characters. And the characters themselves are so believable and honest and full of human flaws while not being exaggerated or one dimensional. The story follows several generations of a family and I see it summarised as a retelling of the Cain and Abel story from the Bible, though I feel that is very reductive. While obviously the Cain and Abel influence is clear, I don’t think it’s the whole point of the story. The book even kind of acknowledges it in a self-aware way, as I believe one character later on directly raises a point that the life of the two brothers in the first part of the story is mirrored by Cain and Abel.
The way I would condense it, would be more as something like it being a story about choice. Specifically the tough human choice to do good, or not to. Most importantly the choice to forgive. There are many sub plots here that all work parallel and interweave as time passes. And so many impactful events that happen throughout as well. The story of Adam and Cathy was absolutely heart wrenching and it kept going and working as a source of more problems and a source for resolution and even comfort. The story of Aron and Caleb with their brotherly rivalry and unfair but understandable history that lead them to unfortunate paths. And Lee himself who serves as a source of patience and wisdom that grounded and cared for the family. Everything fits together perfectly and tells a whole story that is more than just a biblical allegory, it’s a snippet of a life. And it is absolutely beautiful.
“A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well—or ill?”
Clearly affected by East of Eden, I went back to Steinbeck for another novel, this time a much shorter and focused story, which surely did not make it any less powerful and heartbreaking. Book that probably requires no introduction since it’s required reading in school in many places, and has a strong cultural presence, so I will just say that it definitely deserves that place in the general culture.
Lennie is such a poor soul and even though the story was so short it really felt like you get to know him and understand him as a person despite his flaws, and the flaws that he has no control over. The ending is some of the most bleak and heartbreaking chapters I can remember reading but it is a beautiful story regardless of the tone. I especially like the way characters feel so alive by the way their accents and speaking mannerisms are shown in how their dialogue is written, which is something Steinbeck seems to like doing as it was a thing in East of Eden as well. This was a wonderful little book that made for a short and (bitter)sweet read.
In which I experience first hand what fans of ‘spicy’ books feel like reading in public. I was familiar with the premise going into the book but was not prepared for the level of eroticism. Of course it is all very tasteful and relevant, and far from gratuitous. I’m just saying, if I knew that in advance, I wouldn’t choose it as a commute read on the bus. The Safekeep is an amazingly written story about a Dutch family and a woman who is attached and protective of her mother’s house, where she now lives in and takes care of alone. But her brother’s new girlfriend who ends up having to stay there messes with her plans and her nerves, and for a while this is what the main plot line is. But as you keep reading, the story reveals something more direct and personal for both of these women.
Hard to talk about what makes this story so good without spoiling the plot, I will only say that the final part makes a very sudden turn that was an impressive subversion of expectations, and I honestly didn’t see it coming. Besides just being a well written and executed plot point, the book touches on some very hard questions of ethics, justice and generational trauma that has stayed in my mind for a while. And the way the questions are presented, as well as how they are attempted to be resolved are treated with respect while acknowledging the tough nature of it, which was a great bonus. Kind of incredible that this was Van Der Wouden’s debut novel, and I will definitely keep my eyes open for whatever comes next.
The only non-fiction book on the list for this year, as this was a very fiction focused time, this is not merely an exception or added as a token non-fiction book to keep the variety up, but a genuinely amazing and eye opening story, an account of real lives of North Korea and its people told through actual experiences and people who have went through unbelievably difficult times and situations. Most of the time these kinds of stories get treated as a very dry reports, mostly editorialised and focused on numbers and specific events, but Demick is instead focused on letting these actual people with real experiences tell the story, while filling out the context with historical accounts and facts. As a result this felt incredibly moving and effective, as it lets you learn about and bond with the people in the book. For a country so isolated and where most of the information and news just talk about the political situation and the rule of the Kim family, it is refreshing to have a look into the real lives of the citizens that allows you to sympathise and get by, which is also a surprisingly universal experience.
That wraps up the highlights of the year, and as for the rest of the reading I plan on adding it as a separate link on the homepage, retiring the old Dream Log which turns out is not as fun to manage (mostly because often I don’t remember to write dreams down, also it is difficult to make the writing make sense without editorialising the dream a bit which defeats the purpose kind of). So if you’re reading this close to the publishing date, it’s probably not up yet, but it will be. Certainly before next year’s highlight list.