The end of 2025 is coming soon. (Thank Goodness!) It’s that time of the year when Kate and I start thinking about the books we liked the most this year. Before we post our lists, we were wondering, what our your favorite books you read in 2025? Drop them in the comments and let’s see which ones we all liked and which ones we need to add for 2026.
The Sapling Cage by Margaret Killjoy was so good; I tore through it. In a world where only women can be witches, Lorel, who has always been seen as a boy and who wants to be a witch, agrees to take her friend Lane’s place when the witches come to collect Lane. What unfolds is a story of magic, identity exploration, friendship, magic, grief, joy, and growth. The witches must find the source of a plague, the colddead, that is spreading across the land or else they will take the blame for it and probably be destroyed. To do this, they must trace the source of the magic of the Sapling Cage, a golden cage with a magical sapling in it that allows anyone, not just witches, to do magic.
Lorel is a delightful character and excellent narrator. Her friends, the other whelps who have also recently joined the witches, were interesting and varied and the whole thing made for a good story. I pledged to the kickstarter campaign for this book, which is why I have an actual physical copy. I don’t buy a lot of books anymore. The only thing I find disappointing about it is that it is the first in the series and now I have to wait for the next one to come out.
Very occasionally, the interests of my work life and this blog align. This past year, it feels like that has happened more than any other time in career. I’ve been teaching some new-to-me courses in a different department than my home department, teaching some required general education Humanities courses. This has been delightful. I’ve gotten to interact with many students I would have never had the chance to interact with. And I’ve gotten to read (re-read) some classics, some foundational texts, and some big-named thinkers. The Humanities are important because we are important, to ourselves and to each other. These courses I have been teaching allow students to practice important skills around critical thinking and effective communication, but they also give them space to really consider big concepts that loom in the background of our days and define them for themselves. It seems silly to ask, in part because it is so ubiquitous, but what actually is ‘modernity’? Or, ‘progress’? How about ‘what does it mean to be American?’ But the answers to these questions can have very real world consequences. Definitions of modernity can classify useful and important things as out-dated and old-fashioned. For example, do students need writing skills or do they just need to know how to use AI templates? Definitions of progress can have huge impacts on what we require of students, what we expect from companies, what our government’s policy goals are. When we decide what counts as progress, we decide what our priorities are. For example, is generative AI progress? And for the impacts of what it means to be American, you can look at the headlines. The courts are debating who actually falls under birthright citizenship right now.
Two times this Spring, I had the opportunity to revisit classic works in the course of my teaching.The first is Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. I dug this out of the back of my bookshelves from when I was an undergraduate. This classic novel is a seminal work in sci-fi and horror and tells the story of Dr. Frankenstein, a man who never once stops to ask himself if he should, just because he can. I have discovered teaching this book (and from interactions that I’ve had with people on fable), that if your only reference to Frankenstein is pop culture, that you might be expecting this to be centered around the monster. And, it is, except the monster isn’t the creature. Dr. Frankenstein does this massively unethical breakthrough science and then fails, repeatedly, to take responsibility for the consequences of his work. Even though this was first published in 1818, it still feels very relevant to me. A perennial topic for opinion pieces (and for my student’s writing this past year) has been the cultural divide we are seeing and the idea that many of us are living in an echo chamber or are siloed off from ‘the rest of the world’. Dr. Frankenstein lives in this bubble where he thinks about his ideas and how to apply them and then doesn’t step back to seriously consider the implications of those applications. This is a theme that my students have been picking up on and that really resonates with them. It’s like voting for a politician because you like one idea that politician discusses without considering what that would actually mean for their own lives.
The second overlap was The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde. I listened to the L.A. Theatre Works production that I got from my local library.This is such a fun play as Wilde pokes fun at Victorian sensibilities and their obsession with appearance by punning off the word “Earnest”. In the play, two men discover that they are both playing similar games. They have a secret alter ego that they are always in need of rescuing that allows them to escape from the seriousness of their lives. This backfires a bit they fall in love with women who are both smitten with ‘Earnest’, one of the secret alter egos. This play is so silly and so fun, but it also something that my students have really enjoyed digging into. As largely members of Gen Z, they have grown up with the internet and very aware of what its like to live in a time that is utterly obsessed with appearance. For them, it might be how they express themselves on social media, but they still are able to draw parallels with the Wilde text.
It is a delight to be able to discuss reading with people who don’t always identify as readers themselves. Beth and I are obviously into reading for fun, but not everyone is, so their perspectives on classics are informed by other things beyond the written word. And it is always interesting to hear what people have to say about the connections they make between classics and their lives. It is also so important to connect with people and to think about big ideas. When we get caught up in the details of our lives (bills, health, jobs, family, etc.), we don’t always leave ourselves time to think about things and enjoy ourselves. But we should, because our humanity is important.
While there are six novels in this series, there were only three available as audiobooks from my local library, so this is going to be a quick review of the three that I have read. I’ve read 1,2, and 5, so while I’ll eventually get to the others, and that was definitely notable. So, spoilers ahead.
Snowblind follows the story of Ari Þór Arason. He is a newly minted police officer, fresh out of the academy, who takes a job in the town of Siglufjorour near the Arctic circle. Siglufjorour is the kind of place that has cruise ships of tourists stopping in the summer and is potentially cut off from other places because of snow in the winter. In his first big case in town, a young woman is found unconscious and bleeding in snow and then a writer, who is a national treasure, is found dead. Ari Þór starts uncovering local secrets in a place where no one locks their doors. He has to decide who he can trust and who he should believe, while also juggling upheaval in his personal life as his girlfriend, back in Reykjavík, isn’t thrilled by his move North. This was an interesting tale and I liked a lot of the side characters, but I wasn’t sold on Ari Þór as a character.
Blackout is set in the summer when one can expect 24 hours of light in the Northern town of Siglufjorour. However, a volcanic eruption’s ash cloud turns that bright summer days into twilight. A man is found beaten to death near a fjord and Ari Þór and the other member’s of the police force are set out to investigate. A young journalist relocates North from Reykjavík in order to investigate as well. This is a dark and twisty kind of story where pieces of the past are uncovered while our main characters are dealing with both personal horror and the ongoing horror of the murder. I liked the introduction of the reporter and her perspective, although I’m still kind of meh on Ari Þór.
Okay, so this one took a huge leap into the future because I didn’t realize at the time it was book 5 in the series. Oof. But this might be my favorite of the bunch. One of Ari Þór’s colleagues is murdered. The setting of the murder raises questions, the local politics of it all raises questions, Ari Þór’s uneasy relationship with the locals is a bit of a sticky point. There are lots of elements of human tragedy in this novel, and it kept me hooked and also really pulled on my heart strings.
Overall, I would say that this is an enjoyable series, but if I had to recommend just one of the Jónasson’s series, I would recommend the Hidden Iceland series. There is something about Ari Þór that just kind of rubs me the wrong way. I was a bit annoyed by the number of his problems that were entirely of his own making. But, the main character in Hidden Iceland is a middle aged woman, who it might just be that I have more in common with her than I have with a brand new police dude. So, if you a brand new police officer patrolling the fjords and snow-covered roads of Northern Iceland sounds interesting to you, or if you just like murder in a small town tales, then these are for you.
Another excellent find from my local library. Told from two perspectives, it follows the story of a journalist and his sister as they unravel a cold case of a missing girl. Set in and around the city of Reykjavik, in 1956 a young girl named Lára goes missing after working the summer for a couple on an island near Iceland’s capital. The case becomes infamous and on its 30th anniversary (which happens to be the same year as city of Reykjavík’s 200th anniversary) a journalist decides to profile the case. It’s a great choice for selling papers, but as he uncovers more of the story, it becomes clear that it might not be a great choice for his health and safety.
Ragnar Jónasson’s story structures have a bit of Agatha Christie about them and they also have the noir vibe of really digging into the pain and cruelty and darkness of human existence. I thought the ending was clever, but it did raise some questions for me but earlier investigations which have been fun to think about.
So, if you like noir or mystery or political thrillers or, like me, you’re just obsessed with thinking about Iceland (in my defense, I live in the desert so it could not be further from my everyday environment), I recommend this.
Oh, also one last thing, Katrín Jakobsdóttir is a former prime minister of Iceland and that tickles me. I love it.
You know when you get sucked into a creepy story and you don’t want to put it down and then you realize it’s nearly 3 a.m. and you do, in fact, have to work in the morning and you’re annoyed you have to put it down? Just me? Anyway, this is a creepy tale that starts off seeming like two very unrelated stories, except that they are sort of happening in the same place, the West fjords in Iceland. (Except they aren’t because they are taking place in the winter in the West fjords so at least part of the story is happening in an isolated location that is hard to reach.) So, while creepy ghost stuff is happening, you are also trying to work out, “How are these two lines of narrative at all related?” But, as the story unfolds, you come to realize how they are related and it is heartbreaking and infuriating.
So, one of the narratives follows Freyr, a psychiatrist who has moved to the West fjords following the disappearance and presumed death of his son and his subsequent divorce from his wife. As the only psychiatrist in the area, he sometimes consults with the police on crime. Freyr is called in when a preschool is vandalized. Speaking with one of his patients later in the day, he comes to find out that there had been a similar incident of vandalism decades before. He and his cop friend start digging into the earlier incident when a woman who turns up dead of an apparent suicide also seems related to the case and to Freyr’s missing son.
Meanwhile, in an abandoned village across the fjord, three friends arrive to begin renovations on a house they bought, hoping to turn it into a summer guesthouse. They… don’t seem like people who should be doing renovation work, but who am I to judge? As they work, and explore the abandoned village, it becomes clear that they are not alone. But who or what is there with them is the question.
The two stories are well integrated; I was interested in both plot lines. I had guesses about what would happen next and I was proved right a couple times, which is a feeling I enjoy. The setting was atmospheric. I could very easily picture the grey Icelandic setting and put myself in the situations the characters were in. The resolution was mostly satisfying. I’m happy with how it ended, although there was at least one character who I would have liked to see a bit more of a comeuppance and at least one character whose ending bummed me out. I enjoyed this and I’m already on the lookout for more books translated into English by this author. So, if you’re into a creepy tale of mystery, betrayal, ghosts, and the search for justice, this is a book you should try!
My obsession with Icelandic noir continues with this creepy little number.
Y’all, this was so fun. Cecilia Bassingthwaite is a very proper young lady and also a very proper scoundrel. She is thrilled to find out, in the first pages of the novel, that someone has put a hit out on her. Maybe she’ll finally be invited to become a full member of the Wisteria Society. Plus, the assassin who has been sent to kill her isn’t at all terrible to look at and that is a nice bonus.
Cecilia and her Aunt become involved in highjinks. There are flying houses, other lady pirates, some of whom are on their side and some of whom are dirty traitors. There is a villain who is obsessed with Branwell Brontë and who also happens to be Cecilia’s father. Can Cecilia prove that she is nothing like the terrible rogue? Can she save the day?
I know I’ve already said this, but this was incredibly fun. I liked Cecilia and the cast of characters who surrounded her. The back and forth between her and her charming assassin was delightful. Her Aunt was a hoot. The flying houses were thrilling. I enjoyed every second of this book and I cannot wait to get my hands of the next one, as soon as its available from the library.
I purchased my copy of this from The Ripped Bodice; when I am not supporting my local library, I enjoy supporting independent bookstores. (Not to pat myself on the back or anything. Think of this more a little reminder to myself to keep putting my money where my mouth is ;))
2 Women, So Many Books 