The Monthly Media Catchup: Everything I Read, Watched & Listened To | August 2020
The end of August is always a bittersweet time for me because summer is my favourite time of the year and there are very few things, in practice, that I like about winter. But I also love the start of a new school year, and although this year is the first one I’ve spent out of education, I still have that ‘back-to-school’ feeling and I appreciate the order and structure that comes with it. So whilst I’m sad to be saying goodbye to what was actually one of my most social summers ever, despite coronavirus, I am looking forward to a few more nights in and longer days at my desk (give me 3 weeks - maximum - and I’ll be over it).
Usually, August is a month of relaxation for me, as I go on holiday to escape the world and relax. But this year I’ve been going on UK holidays and visiting friends, in order to re-enter the world and catch up on all the socialising I missed out on during the months we spent in lockdown. With that, I’ve consumed far less culture than normal and I actually have no TV shows or films to report on. I’ve spent barely any time sitting down in front of the TV this month and when I have, I’ve been watching, to my shame, Glee. This started as something I’d watch when I was hungover but I spent so much of my time hungover in July and August compared to normal, that I just decided to start watching it full-time. I still have a couple of seasons to go, though, so I’ll report on that next month, probably.
This month, it’s just books, podcasts, articles and music then. I’ve read less books than usual, but the ones I have read have all been phenomenal. I’ve also become kind of obsessed with Ali Smith’s seasonal quartet… despite never having read any of the books. I’ve ordered Autumn* though and it’s at the top of my to be read list for Autumn, as I’ve been fascinated by all the long reads on Smith’s seasonal quartet coming to a close. I started subscribing to Guardian Weekly this month, so the article section is a little bit Guardian heavy and there are some articles I’m recommending that are print only, but I’d really recommend subscribing as the magazine is great.
I’ve also discovered a podcast which I would easily describe as my favourite podcast ever. Much like July though, I’ve been listening to less podcasts, generally, and more music, although my playlist is a weird one this month. A strange thing happens every August where I start listening to pop music I never normally listen to and that’s been intensified this year by the release of WAP. As well as that, I’ve been loving Mahalia’s album, which is very in-character for me. Rambling introduction aside, here’s the small amount of things I read, watched and listened to this month…
books
Small island by andrea levy | ★★★★*
Small Island was this months’ book club pick (if you didn’t read last month’s MMC, my book club is collaborating with the Women’s Prize to read three past winners of the prize) and it’s one I’ve wanted to read for a while. The novel is concerned with the Windrush Generation and explores the lives of four characters: Hortense who arrives in London from Jamaica in 1948, Gilbert Joseph, a black man who fights for Britain in the war but is treated as a second-class citizen in post-WW2 Britain, Queenie, his white female landlord, and Bernard, Queenie’s husband who she assumes has died in the war.
Levy’s constructions of voice are so impressive. Polyphonic novels like this one rarely create four equally endearing characters, usually one stands out as superior. But I enjoyed every single narrative in this novel and appreciated the depth created around each of the characters. A beautiful novel that could be the definitive lesson, in my opinion, in pacing plot. 4.5 stars.
intimations by zadie smith | ★★★★★*
When I found out Zadie Smith had been writing a collection of essays during lockdown, it felt like the months I spent not being able to leave the house might have been worth it. I’m joking, obviously, but I can’t tell you how much ease Zadie Smith’s non-fiction writing brings me. It’s so comforting to know someone is thinking about the world we’re living in so intelligently and her writing style is everything I aspire to. Although if I could achieve 1/100th of what Zadie Smith achieves when she writes an email, even, I’d be happy. Here’s an excerpt from the book I loved:
But the young man in his twenties is still in peak dreaming season: a thrilling time, an insecure time, even at the best of times. It should be a season of possibility. Economic, romantic, technological, political, existential possibility. Yes, among all the various relativities to be considered, age is the one that can’t be parsed. The style of Cy - the style of all young people - now radically interrupted.
weather by jenny offill | ★★★★*
Jenny Offill is another author I admire. Literature that experiments with form isn’t something I always enjoy, but Offill strikes a balance that it is difficult to strike, that is challenging the reader, whilst also allowing the book to flow in a way that makes it easy to read. Weather, shortlisted for the 2020 Women’s Prize for fiction, explores what it means to live through crisis, namely, an environmental crisis. Lizzie, the protagonist, is a librarian and is navigating a world which we might assume is our current world, but also could be any world in crisis, which makes it a disconcerting read. She’s also navigating her family life, looking after her alcoholic brother, her unsure marriage, her mother and her son.
Like Offill’s novel Dept. of Speculation, Weather’s prose is fragmented and it’s not always completely clear what is taking place. But I think this is an intentional stylistic choice and one that allows you to experience the world of the novel in the same way her characters do: floating through it, acknowledging that things are unsure, but inevitably continuing forwards, soaking up all it offers you. One of my favourite moments from the novel was this:
Young person worry: What if nothing I do matters?
Old person worry: What if everything I do does?
podcasts
Brown girls do it too | ★★★★★
This podcast is everything I could ever want from a podcast and more. The concept is: three brown women who have never met before meet weekly to discuss every single detail of their sex lives, from masturbation, to ‘losing their virginity’ to the appearance of their vaginas. Their aim is to break down taboos around brown women talking about sex. But Poppy, Rubina and Roya are potentially three of the funniest people I’ve ever encountered, so I spent almost the entirety of the 4 hours it took me to listen to Brown Girls Do it Too belly laughing. It’s refreshing how candid they all are in talking about sex and I think everyone could learn so much from listening to it. I would pay so much money for a second season.
individual episodes:
articles
Intimations by Zadie Smith review – a wonderful essayist on the lockdown | The Guardian
Cast Adrift | Guardian Weekly (Print only)
If you’re not terrified about Facebook, you haven’t been paying attention | The Guardian
A Very Long Year: Ali Smith’s Seasons | Guardian Weekly (Print only)