I'm finally sharing my annual wrap-up of the books I've most loved in 2023. It's been another year of wonderful reading. Without blowing my own trumpet too much, I am very good at knowing what I like and I have genuinely enjoyed every book I read in 2023. My reviews are always honest but I don't finish a book if I'm not enjoying it and I prefer not to post negative reviews. If a review appears on Hair Past A Freckle it is a true endorsement.
Reading is so subjective and I know I'm often affected by my mood when it comes to the books which particularly resonate with me, so if I reviewed your book this year and it doesn't appear here, please know I enjoyed it, recommend it and am grateful to have spent time with your words.
As always, I have limited myself to choosing books which were published in the UK in 2023 (I go by print book date if there's an earlier ebook publication date) but there were some novels which I'm sure I would have included on previous lists had I read them in their year of publication. So to start with, I loved the following books. Click on the title if you'd like to read my review.
Almost there, thank you for reading so far! It will come as no surprise, I'm sure, to discover I couldn't choose just one book as my read of the year and so five outstanding books share the top spot. As before, they are listed in the order I read them, click on the title if you'd like to read my full review.
My Books of the Year 2023
Climate-change thrillers are becoming a popular subgenre and I can only see them becoming even more prevalent as we head towards whatever the future may hold. Paul E. Hardisty sets the standard in style here, and the near future he imagines in The Forcing is agonisingly plausible, with each new terrible development or awful revelation only too easy to believe. Of course, there will be people who doubt the likelihood of the predictions made but Paul is a renowned environmental scientist who has seen and documented first-hand the damage being done to our planet, he writes with authentic knowledge as well as real heart. The world in The Forcing has moved closer than ever towards disaster; the skies are poisoned, scores of species are extinct, some continents are burning while swathes of others are already underwater, with more at risk. With more and more people fleeing north, a policy which means anybody born before 1989 and therefore considered culpable will be relocated to the ravaged southern states. David ‘Teacher’ Ashworth receives the letter he has been expecting at the start of the book and grimly accepts his fate. The pitch-perfect characterisation and exceptional sense of place ensures the journey Teacher finds himself on is brought vividly – and often terrifyingly – to life. What takes place here is utterly horrifying because it uses history and what has passed before to inform what may occur again. It comes as no surprise when society falls apart and the most heinous acts are perpetrated by people against those they once lived and worked alongside as colleagues, neighbours and friends.
Paul E. Hardisty’s stunning dystopic thriller is a frightening commentary on the worst of humanity and what we risk if we continue to ignore all the warnings but it is also a wise, hopeful reminder to truly appreciate whatever time we have left – and this beautiful planet we share. This is one of those books which make me grateful to be a reader and I finished it with tears pouring down my face.
There are always certain books I look back on particularly fondly; the first two instalments in the Richard Knox spy series, Red Corona and A Loyal Traitor definitely fall into that category and so, of course, A Game of Deceit was one of my most highly anticipated reads of the year. Having practically inhaled it, I am delighted to say that it more than exceeded my high expectations and I was utterly blown away by this clever, beautifully written thriller.
The authentic sense of time is always exceptional in this series and A Game of Deceit is as immersive as ever. It's just over a year since the start of the Cultural Revolution in China and there is understandable concern that one of the powerful agencies operating within the country might be trying to extend Mao Zedong's reach globally. Knox is sent to Hong Kong, ostensibly to arrange the return of a Labour peer's daughter who has been arrested at a pro-communism protest on the island, however, he is also under orders to discover what he can regarding the lie of the land in this politically sensitive part of the world. I really enjoyed being given a fresh perspective on the Cold War; the excellent descriptions of a turbulent Hong Kong brings the place vividly to life but striking as the visual imagery is, it's the way in which Tim Glister captures the tinderbox feel of the island which is really impressive.
There are nail-biting action scenes littered throughout the novel with the superbly crafted plot designed to keep readers on the edge of their seat from start to finish. As the horrifying truth – or at least some of it – is finally revealed, the blisteringly tense conclusion is a heart-pounding race against time. Perhaps even more tantalisingly, the stage is now primed for more explosive revelations and missions of global importance in the future.
A Game of Deceit is exciting, compelling literary entertainment of the highest order; this is espionage fiction at its most breathtaking and I cannot recommend it highly enough!
The Silent Man is the third book in David Fennell’s excellent DI Grace Archer series. It’s a breathtakingly tense, emotionally-charged thriller and easily one of my top reads of the year. Right from the start the creeping sense of dread is tremendous; David Fennell inexorably ratchets up the tension as the intruder observes Jason Todd and his young son, Lucas. It’s chilling enough when he’s outside but once inside, the mercilessly cold murder of the father, leaving his head bound in duct tape, with a sinister emoji-like frown drawn over his facial features, is terrifying.
The Silent Man should probably come with a health warning; I spent much of the book holding my breath and my nerves were scarcely given time to recover before Grace Archer makes her entrance and is soon facing an alarming encounter of her own. The adrenaline pumping scenes here are swiftly followed by an even more frightening revelation as she realises just how much danger she and her beloved Grandad are in. Gangster Frankie White’s enduring feud with the Archer family means the stakes are even higher for Grace. This storyline is the climax of an ongoing plot and is superbly crafted.
Grace’s relationship with her colleagues has always added a further layer to the series, particularly her friendship with Harry Quinn and the cliffhangers and dramatic revelations in some of these scenes are among the most intensely gripping in the book. Meanwhile, the chapters which reveal the warped actions of the killer are spectacularly dark and disturbing but there’s another strand to this complex, intricately woven storyline which is just devastating.
This is a dark, spine-chilling novel but I also connected with The Silent Man on a deeper, more emotional level. It’s almost viscerally obvious how much care David Fennell takes to ensure all his characters are nuanced, believable creations and not merely plot-devices. The immersive sense of place means ordinary homes have never felt more menacing but it’s not unremittingly creepy; there are also some lighter, more humorous scenes. The Silent Man is an exhilaratingly atmospheric, suspense-packed thriller from beginning to end but it also left me immensely moved. The first two books in this series were brilliant but this is an utter triumph – an outstanding rollercoaster of a read which I’ll be recommending for years.
The Malabar House series is consistently historical fiction of the highest calibre, featuring everything I hope to find in a book, particularly this genre; the sense of time and place is always impeccable, the plot is intricately crafted and the characterisation nuanced and empathetic. However, Vaseem Khan also infuses his books with light and shade and the examination of complex topics is thoughtful and honest. Death of a Lesser God is the fourth book in the series and arguably the best yet.
The start of the book finds James Whitby mere days away from being hanged for the murder of a prominent Indian lawyer. He acknowledges that no man is an island and questions whether somebody like him who embodies the evils of empire could expect a fair trial; “Can a white man expect justice in Nehru’s India?” Persis Wadia is given the impossible task of reinvestigating the case without it becoming public knowledge. During the course of the investigation, she uncovers a link to a second case; a double murder in 1946. The investigation eventually leads Persis to Calcutta and as always, Vaseem Khan’s descriptions of the country are richly transportive. We can almost feel the suffocating heat and humidity of monsoon season as Bombay and later Calcutta are evocatively brought to life. One of the most impressive elements in Death of a Lesser God is that there’s obviously real affection for the country, while still allowing for a candid appraisal of its foibles and failings.
The scenes set in the Sundarbans mangrove forest are the most striking; the oppressive sense of danger is overwhelmingly tense but there’s a beautiful lyricism to Vaseem Khan’s writing which encapsulates the fascinating juxtaposition between the cities of India looking towards the future and the persistence of faith and mysticism, which in the mysterious Sundarbans, even touches somebody as prosaic as Persis Wadia.
Despite examining some difficult topics, the observant humour, especially of the characters, is a sheer delight throughout. The mystery itself is complex, compelling and surprising on a number of levels. There are magical moments sometimes when reading a book feels like alchemy in action and I loved every moment I spent with Death of a Lesser God.
Pat Barker's Regeneration trilogy and Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks are among my favourite books of all time and so it was inevitable that I should be drawn to In Memoriam.
Alice Winn describes the full horror of trench warfare with her searingly brutal prose but while the constant death, mud and noise of Loos, Ypres and the Somme is almost viscerally portrayed, it's her devastating exploration of the damage to the mental health of the soldiers which is most effectual. Gaunt is always the more introspective and pessimistic, while the poetic Ellwood is initially more exuberant, although always mercurial in nature. Alice Winn's thoughtful, sensitive characterisation allows for a powerful, poignant exploration of how the two men are physically, mentally and emotionally broken by their experiences.
The brief moments of solace and passion between the pair are sometimes tender, often angry and utterly convincing. These are two young men, who both expect to die soon and their desperate fear for the other amidst the constant loss of their friends and comrades is almost palpable. However, despite the heartbreak and hopelessness, this is an exciting and even humorous read at times and though the subject matter may be heavy, the writing is anything but. The title is taken from Tennyson's poem as well as the obituaries in the Preshutian. His other poem, Charge of the Light Brigade features too and while written to celebrate heroism, it becomes something far more harrowing here. As these young men are aged by what they are forced to endure, so the exponentially increasing lists of dead, laid out starkly with their names and ages becomes even more agonising, especially when the comforting lies told to parents are juxtaposed with the awful truth.
The tragedy of the First World War is well-known but this empathetic microcosm of the Lost Generation magnifies and personalises the horror. That it is also a tender, beautiful and ultimately hopeful story of love surviving in the face of prejudice, fear and loss is remarkable. In Memoriam is an incredible, exceptional debut novel. It will stay with me forever and I cannot recommend it highly enough.
All that remains is to thank all the authors (and translators) whose books have featured on Hair Past A Freckle in 2023; I say it every year because it's true - without your words, this blog wouldn't exist. Huge thanks also to the publishers, publicists and blog tour organisers who continue to invite me to read such fantastic books and of course, thank you to my fellow bloggers, as always your support and friendship means a great deal to me. I've also had the privilege of recommending a book every Saturday on Shaftesbury's community podcast and FM radio station, This is Alfred. Many thanks if you listened to me at any point in 2023. Finally, thanks to everybody who has taken the time to read, comment on and share my blog posts, I truly appreciate it.
It's impossible to ignore the terrible news being reported across the world on a daily basis, and my biggest hope for 2024 is for more peace and understanding and less hatred.
I wish you all a safe, happy and healthy 2024 and look forward to sharing more book love with you all.
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