Hello readers of the internet and presumably books,
You may have seen (or maybe you haven’t, if you have been protecting your peace effectively) that the New York Times recently published a list of the 100 best books of the 21st century. Now, seeing as the 21st century has 75-and-a-half years left, this felt a bit presumptive, but I guess you can get away with anything when you have that much power behind you.
Now, admittedly, I did look at this list of 100 books, and between my partner and I, we had only read 8 of them. I blame it on the fact that I only started reading adult literature in like, 2017.
So, all this to say, I thought I could put together a better list. Not of 100 books, but of 15. I love to participate in the literary discourse, so here it is. But first, some methodology:
This list is obviously biased. I have a number of literary biases that include the following:
I mostly read Canadian literature. More than anyone I know, and definitely more than the New York Times.
This list has a disproportionate amount of Indigenous authors - but seeing as the New York Times had none (don’t sue me if I’m wrong), I figured this was fine. Indigenous people write the best books. I don’t make the rules.
As I mentioned, I really only started reading adult fiction in 2017, so most of these books are from the last 10 years.
I tried to consider holistically the following factors:
How much I liked the book (all of these recieved a 5 star rating from me on my Storygraph account);
What the cultural impact of the book was;
What the critical reception to the book was; and
Do I think the cultural/critical reception of the book makes it best-of-the-best worthy?
I limited this list to one book per author, and to the first book of a series if applicable, but I generally recommend other books by the same authors and other books in the series.
Fiction only, but actually I did sneak in a couple YA books here and there. You’ll see.
In no particular order. I’m not capable of ranking in that way.
All this to say, take this with a grain of salt, but also, read these books!
Yellowface by R.F. Kuang (2023)
I reviewed this book recently, so if you’re interested in my more detailed thoughts on this book after having just read it, that can be found here. My inclusion of Yellowface on this list comes from my new inability to think about the literary industry, publishing, or books in general, without thinking back to R.F. Kuang’s masterpiece that is this book. I have talked about this book at length with everyone I know who’s read it, and every time someone new reads it I can’t wait to get their thoughts. This book has sparked a very real conversation about what we allow authors, as creatives, to do, and if or when there should be limitations to their art. This has changed the literary industry in a very interesting way that does not allow me to leave it off a list like this.
The Break by Katherena Vermette (2016)
I think a lot about Indigenous fiction sort of being a genre all on it’s own, not adhering to the standards set out by mainstream literary or contemporary fiction, by weaving in genre in creative and culturally revolutionary ways - but I almost think that we can go one step further in defining Indigenous women’s fiction. This book exemplifies this genre in the most perfect way. The Break is incredibly character driven, multi-generational, and imparts a crucial and urgent message about violence without being preachy. It subverts our expectations about Indigenous women as being brutalized by white men and allows us a window into the very complex dynamics that make up an urban Indigenous community. It is heartbreaking, and it is beautiful.
Heartstopper Volume #1 by Alice Oseman (2018)
This is my first of two young adult inclusions, and I genuinely felt like I couldn’t leave this off the list because I have enjoyed this series of graphic novels so deeply, in a way I never expected. Alice Oseman has created a cast of characters who are so deeply loveable, and unexpectedly complex for a short series of graphic novels. As a reader, I care deeply for Charlie and Nick, but also for their friends, their families, and even their teachers. Oseman’s little world is one I love to live in, and clearly folks around the world have been loving as well. I am patiently awaiting the final installment, and I’m expecting to shed a happy tear or two.
Bad Cree by Jessica Johns (2023)
A year and a half after it’s release, this book is (deservedly) still the number two bestseller in Canada. There are several things that should impress you about Bad Cree. The first is that this is Jessica Johns’ first novel, and that she created something so sensational and all-consuming that it’s shocking to find this is currently the only book in her bibliography. Much like The Break, Bad Cree is a work of Indigenous fiction that has crossed over seamlessly into the mainstream literary canon, and I think is well on its way to becoming a modern classic, and one of the greatest Canadian books of all time. This book defies genre by crossing horror, fantasy, and literary prose all in the centering of one normal, grieving family. This should have won Canada Reads, just saying.
Greenwood by Michael Christie (2019)
Speaking of modern classics - this is it. This is literature on a scale that takes an intense amount of labour - to know your characters, their histories, the geography on which they take place to this degree is nothing short of incredible. Greenwood takes place over more than 100 years and spans the physical geography of all of Canada, from the East Coast to Vancouver Island in an absolute epic of a family saga. This is no quick read by any means, but the 500 pages or so are well worth the reward. It’s a climate change story, it’s a tree story, but it’s so much more than that. I still think about the ending on a regular basis. Greenwood might just change your life.
Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel (2014)
It’s incredible to think about the fact that Emily St. John Mandel wrote Station Eleven years before the pandemic. Reading this in a post-2020 world was haunting. Terrifying, almost. And yet, Emily St. John Mandel has created a world within this novel that is so full of intrigue, so full of hope and the human condition that it physically pained me to leave it. I became so attached to the characters, to their journeys, and to the world they’d created after such a tragic and almost apocalyptic event. (This is not about TV, but I also think Station Eleven has one of the greatest book-to-series adaptations I’ve ever seen. Thank you, HBO). If you haven’t had your life changed by Station Eleven yet, I suggest you don’t wait any longer.
Normal People by Sally Rooney (2018)
There are some pieces of media that I feel like exist within the same world - Normal People, for me, exists in the same universe as Fleabag. Maybe it’s the religious undertones, maybe it’s the Phoebe-Waller-Bridge-Daisy-Edgar-Jones-Andrew-Scott-Paul-Mescal of it all, maybe it’s the fact that I keep forgetting that Fleabag is not Irish. Normal People is, admittedly, not the type of book I generally reach for. But it’s brilliant. There’s something about this slice of life, this love we see ebb and flow between the two characters, and the pain we suffer alongside them that really allows this book to stand on its own. I think Sally Rooney is often misclassed alongside authors who are of much lower caliber than herself, and I think that’s generally unfair. No offence Colleen Hoover. Nothing makes me cry quite like Connell and Marianne.
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (2008)
Hear me out. I really, genuinely, honestly feel that this trilogy should have been featured on the New York Times list. And not just because I personally have a childhood-into-adulthood fixation on The Hunger Games: because they’re incredible books. Show me one other piece of literature that is digestible and appropriate enough for teenagers that is still an incredibly potent and complex commentary on fascism, authoritarianism, the dangers of over policing and oversurveillance. It doesn’t exist! This trilogy not only set off about a decade of copycats (a la Divergent, etc.), but dare I say radicalized a generation of young people who would, in less than 10 years, bear witness to the rise of fascism across the globe in the 21st century. Suzanne Collins’ impact cannot be understated. Give her a Nobel Peace Prize, or something.
A Minor Chorus by Billy-Ray Belcourt (2022)
Choosing which Billy-Ray Belcourt book to choose was almost an impossible task until I considered A Minor Chorus is really his only novel. That made the choice easy - but this is more of a recommendation for everything he’s ever written. What makes A Minor Chorus stand out is the beautiful quality of prose that Billy-Ray Belcourt implores to create a small, quiet story of healing and living. I am normally not a fan of flowery prose - I find it gets in the way of a good story. A Minor Chorus does exactly the opposite. The prose enables us to feel exactly what our main character feels, and to step into the world of a Cree PhD student for a few short pages. This is a really exciting time to be a Billy-Ray fan, and I can’t wait to see what he puts out next.
Butter Honey Pig Bread by francesca ekwuyasi (2020)
I’m definitely not the first person to think this, but I think this is likely one of the best books I’ll read in my lifetime. There really is nothing like a family saga to get the tear ducts working, but the way francesca ekwuyasi is able to paint such a delicate portrait of trauma and healing, of womanhood and motherhood and sisterhood, all coming to a head in the beautiful setting in Lagos takes a tremendous amount of skill as a writer. These characters are very flawed and real and we can all find a bit of ourselves in their stories. I really look forward to what francesca has in store for us next.
Jonny Appleseed by Joshua Whitehead (2018)
This is the book I think I’ve given as a gift the most. I have such a soft spot in my heart for Jonny Appleseed. Having read this book, as well as Joshua Whitehead’s Indigiqueerness, which is largely a conversation on the writing process for Jonny, I feel well versed in the workings of the book, as well as the very real impact it had on the literary world. This book DID win Canada Reads (thank god), and gave us a very honest account of what it means to go home when home wants you to be something you’re not. Whether you’re queer or not, Indigenous or not, this is something we can all relate to. Joshua Whitehead Publish Something New Challenge.
Medicine Walk by Richard Wagamese (2014)
If you’re looking for an introduction to the wide and wonderful world that is the Richard Wagamese literary canon, Medicine Walk, and the raw, half-finished sequel Starlight are a good place to start. This is a story about grief, forgiveness, and what it means to be family. This book will not leave you without tears - admittedly, I read this book right after my grandfather passed away, and it nearly destroyed me. This is a beautiful treatise filled with regret and peace. This is practically a classic already. Richard Wagamese knew how to write a damn good book.
Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice (2018)
You know how I said Indigenous fiction often defies genre? This is exactly the kind of book I’m talking about. This book is everything - it is scary, it is dark, it is hopeful, it keeps you turning the page faster than your eyes can keep up with it. This book actually lives in the same universe as Station Eleven, in my mind. Those who’ve read both, and especially Waubgeshig Rice’s recent sequel, Moon of the Turning Leaves, will understand. This brilliant little book packs quite the punch in only 224 pages, and leaves the reader wanting so much more. Luckily for us, there’s a sequel.
Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng (2017)
It’s funny to put it this way, but this was the book that got me back into reading as an adult. I think this is exactly the kind of response Little Fires Everywhere elicits in readers everywhere - the desire to see what’s next. While we obviously didn’t get a sequel to this book, and I don’t necessarily think we need one, Celeste Ng inspired a type of curiosity into the lives of characters that I have certainly carried with me since reading this as a nineteen-year-old. I also don’t think we should overlook the cultural impact of this book - as only the fourth-ever “Reese’s Book Club” pick from Reese Witherspoon, this book launched an entire brand of contemporary literature into the homes of readers who might otherwise have been forced to read Colleen Hoover other books that are not as good. Reese loved it so much she made a mini-series adaptation for herself to star in. I loved it so much I read 150 more books.
The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead (2019)
I think it’s only appropriate to end my Can-Lit-heavy list with a book from an author who’s catalogue is distinctly American, in a Great-American-Novel kind of way, not the other, worse way. Colson Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad was present on the New York Times’ list, and while I agree that it’s an absolute masterpiece, his follow-up, The Nickel Boys offers a unique look into an otherwise ignored piece of American history - reform schools. While it is a work of fiction, The Nickel Boys is based on a real account of the young Black men sentenced to grueling conditions at Jim Crowe-era reform schools in lieu of a decent education. This book is brutal and necessary. Colson Whitehead shines a light onto an oft-overlooked reality of his country while painting a beautiful story of resilience in the most unlikely of places.
Well, if you read all that, you’re the best. Long story short, there are a lot of good books out there and you don’t have to listen to what the New York Times has to say. That is, unless I publish something and they say it’s good. Then definitely listen to them.
Until next time.
From the void,
annie >:(