Top Reads of 2021

2021, like the year preceding it, was very much a year of reading and doing very little else. Shamefully for me, it was not a year of writing blog posts – this is my first post since last year’s round up of top reads. I did, however, edit my book, Culture Rules, during those several locked down holidays and weekends. Have a read!

Non-fiction

Doug Lemov Teach Like a Champion 3.0

A new edition of Teach Like a Champion is always an excellent excuse to revisit what I have come to feel are the markers of truly great classroom practice. I read this just as I reentered the classroom, having not taught for two full years – first when setting up a start-up school with no children, and then taking on a school through the second pandemic year (I was advised to not teach, and with good reason as almost every planned day last year was torpedoed by Covid in one way or another). Reading this, I found myself reflecting on how hard it is to automate the strategies that make a wonderful classroom, and how useful it is to revisit them time and time again. Lemov has provided such useful reflections and clarifications here, I challenge anyone to not find worth and expertise in this glorious tome.

Doug Lemov Teaching in the Online Classroom

I was so in denial of what was likely to happen at the start of the last academic year it took me far too long to read this. By the time I did, the incredible teaching and learning team at Ark John Keats were well into the swing of delivering CPD on remote teaching. My ardent hope for the new year is that there only needs to be one book on remote learning, and this is surely it.

Mike Schmoker Leading with Focus

This was recommended to me by not one but two of the Vice Principals at Ark John Keats. I found it particularly useful to read last year, when the sheer struggle to remain open as a school threatened to dominate. This book contains incredible clarity on curriculum and instruction, and if nothing else is a call to arms to stop focusing on anything else.

Musa Okwonga One of them: an Eton college memoir

I was fascinated by this account of attending the most prestigious school in the country – both the reality experienced on the ground, and the weight of expectation Okwonga details feeling throughout the rest of his adult life.

Lucy Kellaway Re-educated

Having followed Kellaway’s column detailing her move from successful Financial Times journalist to the classroom, I bought this for the writing style alone. The fuller picture – that of setting up a teaching charity from scratch, changing home and ending a marriage – was equally extraordinary. A compelling and inspiring account.

Joanna Rakoff My Salinger Year

A wonderful memoir of Rakoff’s work in the 1990s with a literary agency which happened to represent J.D. Salinger.

Fiction

Amor Towles Rules of Civility

This was my top fiction read of 2021, with characters I genuinely missed when I finished reading. Towles evokes an atmospheric 1930s New York as well as making the central relationship of the book – a female friendship – feel real and relevant.

Gemma Reeves Victoria Park

I spent many lockdown days in Victoria Park, Hackney, and bought this book because there is always something wonderful in reading about a familiar place. Though this book is made up of short narratives, the characters are loosely connected in what feels like a very current, almost anonymous London way; not through startling revelations but instead through minor coincidences.

Mateo Askaripour Black Buck

This satire made me laugh and cringe in equal measure. Despite its clear fable-like unreality, you really root for the main character throughout. Race is central to the book, and it also felt like a sharp critique of the empty hollow at the heart of modern start-ups.

Emily St John Mandel The Glass Hotel

This book swirls around a key line which echoes through its pages, its meaning becoming clearer and clearer as the story goes on. The parallel stories, which at first seem utterly disconnected, collide in a fascinating conclusion.

Lorrie Moore Self-Help

I cannot believe these short stories were published in 1985 – they felt utterly modern. Mainly around relationships and their messiness, the stark poetry of some phrases made stayed with me for days after reading them.

Esi Edugyan Washington Black

Though set in a time of slavery, this book resists being solely a slave narrative. A rich and complex novel, especially around the uneasy exploration of race relations at an individual level.

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Top reads of 2020

2020: the year of reading. Was there anything else to do? As such, it has taken an extraordinarily long time for me to whittle my long-list of 34 favourites down to this select few. I’ll start with the education favourites, and move on to fiction (my true love).

Education favourites

E.D. Hirsch: How to Educate a Citizen

I have long loved Hirsch, but find his earlier works a challenge to read. With each new work, I find his writing more and more lucid. This short work excoriates progressivism and provides a clear path to a coherent, enlightened curriculum that works for all children – but especially those for whom education to often does not work.

Eva Moskowitz: The education of Eva Moskowitz: a memoir

I am a big fan, and still keep Pondiscio’s account of Moscowitz’ school chain the Success Academies on my desk in work, filled to bursting with post-it notes. I was surprised at how much of an insight this gave me into Moscowitz’s schools, and how often I have quoted this to colleagues after reading it. It’s much more than a memoir – it’s a love letter to transformative education.

Tom Bennett: Running the Room

The other book I cannot stop quoting is Tom Bennett’s latest offering. I bought this because everyone said it was incredible, and everyone was absolutely correct. I’m not sure how he manages it, but Bennett makes this a relevant read for both practitioners at the very start of their career and those leading the behavior and culture of schools.

Fiction

Bernadine Evaristo: Girl, Woman, Other

This is genuinely one of the most moving books I have ever read. Having a cast of so very many characters shouldn’t work – I’ve got lost in simpler stories with fewer characters – but in Evaristo’s hands it all weaves together in a tapestry of life and all its hurts and joys.

Tessa Hadley: Late in the day

This story of close friendships and their response to a shared grief felt so tangible I miss the characters even now, seven months after reading it.

Claudia Rankine: Citizen

A searing but beautiful prose poem exploring black experience. Both horrifying and edifying. A masterpiece.

Jenny Offill: Dept. of Speculation

A wonderful novel of marriage, motherhood, art disintegration and coming together. Manages to be brilliantly artful and sincere simultaneously.

Ann Patchett: The Dutch House

It took me about 75 pages to fully enter the world of this book, but once I did I fully appreciated why some critics reckon this to be Patchett’s master work. Again, I miss these characters desperately.

Curtis Sittenfeld: You think it, I’ll say it

I read American Wife last year and adored it. I’ve not loved everything by Sittenfeld, but these short stories are brilliant – in only a few pages, you become completely invested.

Rupi Kaur: Milk and Honey

I cannot believe it has taken me so long to read Rupi Kaur. I read these poems in one sitting, and then again the next evening. And again. There is so much life in so few words.

Anna Wiener: Uncanny Valley

Ok, I know this isn’t fiction, but it’s not education either so it can go here. A rare non-fiction read that has stayed with me, providing an insight into Silicon Valley and its working practices. It made me laugh a lot.

Top reads of 2019

Fiction:

Maggie O’Farrell This Must be the Place: this was the first book I read in 2019. What a way to begin. Absolutely epic family tale which bounces around, so the story sort of comes into focus rather than progressing linearly.

Madeline Miller Circe: This retelling of the Odyssey from Circe’s perspective is like Wicked for people who love literature.

Curtis Sittenfeld American Wife: The balance between reality and fiction is delightfully blurred in the story of the president’s wife. Probably the book I most enjoyed reading this year.

Sally Rooney Normal People: I didn’t think anything could be better than Rooney’s debut novel, but I was wrong. This look at an un-relationship is like One Day but literary.

Tayari Jones An American Marriage: The blurb to this makes the premise sound absurd, but every page feels real and true.

Joshua Ferris Then We Came to the End: My overall favourite fiction read of 2019. I especially enjoyed the character Lynn’s fragility and strength. This is an incredible evocation of the mundanity of office life.

Tom Wolfe Bonfire of the Vanities: An incredible tear through 1980s America’s racism, privilege, and finance. Genuinely laugh-out-loud funny.

Non-fiction:

David Didau Making Kids Cleverer: Definitely Didau’s best, in my view; great ranging over the research with a crystal clear aim.

Becky Allen and Sam Sims The Teacher Gap: This is so engagingly written, and tackles the important issue of teacher recruitment and retention. I think I’ve quoted this book more than any other this year (hopefully accurately).

Eric Kalenze What the Academy Taught Us: Kalenze takes us through a specific project where his school created a “school within a school” for those most at risk of dropping out. He then explores the lessons learned and applies his experiences and research to wider school improvement. I adored it. Funny, smart and full of feeling.

Robert Pondiscio How the Other Half Learns: A fascinating insight into the Success Academies, full of helpful advice and thorny moral issues.

Jonathan Haidt and Greg Lukianoff The Coddling of the American Mind: This book is the most influential on the character curriculum I’m developing for Ark Soane Academy, and is a fabulous take-down of “the three great untruths”: “what doesn’t kill us makes us weaker” (not true; we are anti-fragile and challenge makes us stronger), “always trust your feelings” (never trust your feelings – our minds deceive us) and “there are good and evil people in the world” (not really; we all have good and evil within us. Better to view others with a charitable mindset, no matter how different our views).

Ann Patchett This is the Story of a Happy Marriage: the most personally influential book I read this year, Patchett came along at exactly the right time to help me through grief and spur me to action. One of many great pieces of advice? If you want to be a writer, write. So I’m writing… This collection ranges over love, failure, joy and dogs – all the big issues.

Elizabeth Day How to Fail: This book is an absolute balm to the wounds of disappointment. Brutally relatable in places, it is full of warmth and wisdom.

Ben Newmark: Why Teach: this little book is great, and the final chapter moving beyond belief. It reminded me, importantly, of why teaching is the best job in the world.

Kim Scott Radical Candour: This great book is about so much more than candour. Its superb advice is genuinely useful. It is not about doing more, but rather about changing the interactions we have with others to forge improvements in our organisations.

 

I was surprised looking through the list of books I read this year (thanks to my year 9 English teacher I’ve kept a list since I was 13 years old) at how few were strong contenders for this list – normally I have a big job cutting it down. Next year I think I will be more ruthless about reading books I’m excited about, and stop “saving” the best ones for holidays (or the last week of term, when I tell myself I “need” something brilliant) – there are too many great books out there for that. 2019 was the year that I published a book on education, Simplicity Rules, but, as inspired by Patchett, I really hope to continue writing fiction in 2020, and perhaps feeling confident enough to share it in 2030.

Top Reads of 2018

I said last year that I would endeavour to read more non-fiction this year, and I certainly feel I have done that. I’ve stuck, however, chiefly to education-related non-fiction. I’ve tried to cull my list down to ten fiction and ten non-fiction, as not even my immediate family could be trusted to read beyond that. 

Fiction

Roxane Gay: Difficult Women: I picked this up in a bookshop when on holiday and it is the longest I have ever been unable to put down a book prior to buying it. A series of phenomenal short stories.

Hilary Mantel: Bring Up the Bodies: for an unknown reason, possibly related to its weight and the length of time I had to carry it around for, I didn’t enjoy Wolf Hall. I now need to re-read it, because Bring Up the Bodies evoked that world of old political intrigue so convincingly.

Meg Wolitzer: The Wife/The Interestings: I can’t decide which; don’t make me. I’d read no Wolitzer until this year; both of these have stayed with me – the former for its incredible twist, the latter for the characters I am still thinking about.

Kamila Shamsie: Home Fire: Thank goodness for friends who read: Carly Moran told me to read this modern telling of Antigone. I loved the multiple voices and the ambiguity of the twists (the kind where I had to text Carly saying: ‘did that really just happen? Have I misunderstood?’)

Zadie Smith: White Teeth: Smith is in my top five living authors, but I’d not enjoyed this when I read it while at university. Thank goodness I re-read it this year; there was just so much I’d missed the first time around. I’ve grown into loving epics that span generations, so this was a perfect read for me.

Amor Towles: A Gentleman in Moscow: Matt Pinkett recommended this on Twitter and again it is one that has haunted me (in a good way) since reading it. A fascinating perspective on the Russian revolution and one man’s journey through it, with an almost ‘magical realism’ element.

Sally Rooney: Conversations with Friends: This is a strong contender for ‘book of the year’ for me. I’m somewhat biased, because I too went to university in Ireland, and there’s nothing quite like recognising first hand where characters are in the world. But the complex, believable relationships and starkly beautiful writing style make this a firm favourite for me.

Nathan Hill: The Nix: I rationed myself three days on a beach holiday to crack through this, messed up my reading schedule (yes, you read that correctly), and ended up with this ‘to begin’ on an overnight flight. I both started and finished it on the flight. An epic American tale spanning generations and warmly human. Again, thank goodness for friends who read, especially Dani Quinn, who only seems to recommend books I will love.

Alain de Boton: On Love: Second contender for book of the year, this was such a clever little book that was spookily accurate about relationships and brought you from start to finish without really investing you in the characters – almost a clinical look at human psychology, told through story.

Wallace Stegner: Crossing to Safety: Stegner takes the friendship between two couples and tracks it back over the decades, using a few key events as focal points. I loved all the characters so much. If ever there was a book that made you think that language can never fully express meaning, this is it.

 

Non-fiction

Peps McCrea: Lean Lesson Planning: I also loved Memorable Teaching. Peps makes big ideas feel easy in his tiny but mighty books.

Hockman and Wexler: The Writing Revolution: I wrote about this here – although there is so much more I’d like to explore with this, it has already had a huge impact on my teaching.

James M. Lang: Small Teaching: I wrote about this here – I loved this book for its clear explanation of complex cognitive science, along with the fact that it introduced me to a few concepts I’d not come across before.

Craig Barton: How I Wish I’d Taught Maths: I wrote about this here – I adored this book, and it has been invaluable in working with the Maths team at my school to work on curriculum and lesson planning.

Leonora Chu: Little Soldiers: I wrote about this here – a fascinating insight into another culture and another school system.

Marshall Rosenberg: Non-Violent Communication: I wrote about this here – this really made me consider what we do with our ‘edge-case’ kids who seem impervious to systems, but also how we use language to communicate with all our children.

James and Diane Murphy: Thinking Reading: I think this is the book I have returned to most this year. On reading the immortal words – that ‘reading is the entitlement of every child’ – I bounced into my Head’s office unannounced and she responded by making reading a core priority for the school this year.

Alex Quigley: Closing the Vocabulary Gap: This wins the prize of ‘most discussed in line management’. The Head of English has been working on putting some of Quigley’s advice into practice, and I think it is going to have an enormous impact.

Iain Hall: Glass Ceilings: I wrote about this here – this book took me back to my roots, reminded me why I do what I do, and helped me out of a dark night of the soul professionally.

Maryanne Wolf: Reader, Come Home: I wrote about this here – I was absolutely floored by some of Wolf’s analysis. This was the book that made me re-think how I read.

 

And with that in mind, some reading resolutions for 2019. I’ve learned from Wolf that I don’t need to feel so guilty about reading fiction, but I do need to regret time spent on my phone. I could have read so many more books if I’d had a little bit more willpower. I’ve deleted nefarious, time-wasting apps from my phone’s home screen (so when I unlock my phone now I think: why am I here?), downloaded the app ‘Space’ to track screen time, and resolved to be more mindful next year. That said, I probably do read a little too much. I’m hoping to spend more quality time with people I like and the dog in the new year, and get more balance away from a leisure time that is 95% me reading on my own.

Books not pictured: those currently out on loan.

A New Way of Reading

I knew I had to read this book when I heard Doug Lemov endorsing it. Reader, Come Home sells itself as a portrayal of the reading state of the nation. It is really about the state of humanity.

The author points out that the Ancient Greeks were concerned that rising literacy would fundamentally change people’s ability to remember, and that they weren’t wrong: the rise of reading did change the way our brains worked, making memory weaker, and remarkably rapidly. So today, with the rise in digital devices, both the way we read and the way our minds work has shifted. But are we worried about the right things this time? Our fears seem centred around the fact that more children (and adults, truth be told) are not reading… But they are.

In fact, we are reading more than ever before: the author quotes studies that reveal we are reading around 100,000 words a day now. That’s a short novel, every single day. But what should be cause for celebration is in fact cause for concern, because the way we are reading is so dramatically different.

Wolf quotes a memorable speech by Barack Obama where he said that information has become ‘entertainment rather than empowerment.’ Moreover, our reading is ‘chopblock,’ not continuous, and situated within a technological world where ‘cognitive overload’ is ubiquitous. To take in all this information, ‘skimming’ has become ‘the new normal.’ We focus on the surface rather than digging deeper. And this has a profound impact on the way we process information.

I have often felt I read too much fiction; indeed, my aim this year was explicitly to read more non-fiction. That was before Wolf articulated to me (and I do feel this is personal, as she writes the book explicitly as letters to the reader) the benefits of fiction. For Wolf, we understand others and can show compassion and empathy through reading. Reading connects divergent cultures, so we have a more in-depth understanding of those different to us.

But this only happens when we read with ‘close attention.’ This kind of deep reading requires ‘analogical reasoning’ and ‘inference’ to uncover its many layers. In praise of beautiful prose, Wolf reminds us that beauty in words holds our attention so we focus on what lies deeper.

Yet in the modern world, the prevalence of digital devices results in ‘continuous partial attention’: we live in a ‘world of distraction’. This is not conducive to deep thinking. As well as cycling through the argument, familiar to readers of Lemov and Murphy and Willingham, that knowledge is crucial for deep reading, and that critical thought ‘never just happens,’ the author goes on to explore the impact on children of this way of processing words.

Boredom in children is normal. But ‘post-digital’ boredom is a different kind altogether. Wolf says that this kind of boredom, rather than provoking creativity as the former can, ‘de-animates’ children. The constant stimulation of the screen prevents them from experiencing true, tranquil tedium.

We know from our own adult lived experience how addictive devices are; studies abound to support this, but are barely needed. Of course children are much more vulnerable to this. And when they are developing their cognitive abilities, this has a devastating impact. The multiple stimulants on devices split children’s attention, and studies show that texts read on devices compared with traditional paper lead to weaker comprehension even if no other applications are running. The mere expectation that the device will have multiple purposes diverts their attention, ability to focus, and thus weakens their ability to understand what they are reading.

Moreover, the information overload of our reading society makes it much harder for children to build background knowledge. With so much information and so little time to process it, this threatens the development of children’s attentions and working memories.

There is so much more in this book, and I would urge everyone human to read it. It urged me to reflect on how I feel when I read a novel compared with how I feel when I read Buzzfeed. The guilt I used to feel for losing myself in a novel will be banished from my life. Instead, it will be my phone that I must lock away; my laptop I must periodically lose. Fiction is vital.

Wolf asks: ‘What will happen to young readers who never meet and begin to understand the thoughts and feelings of someone totally different?… It is a formula for unwitting ignorance, fear and misunderstanding, that can lead to the belligerent forms of intolerance that are the opposite of America’s original goals for its citizens of many cultures.’ Far from an optional extra, deep reading is the stuff of life itself.

Top reads of 2016

Education reads:

Doug Lemov: Reading Reconsidered

I wrote at length about Lemov’s book – safe to say, it will revolutionise your teaching. Everyone should read this – not just English teachers. Lemov deeply considers the best way to read with classes, but also how to blend fiction and non-fiction for optimal understanding.

Amy Chua: Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother

I also wrote at length about Chua’s book, which we now all read at Michaela for our staff CPD. Chua’s book is wildly funny, but also exposes a totally different paradigm for thinking about kids and discipline.

Roger Scruton: Culture Counts

My whole way through university, I thought I was stupid. I didn’t ‘get’ post-structuralism, post-colonialism, Foucault or Derrida. It turns out, there is an alternative way of viewing culture. Reading Scruton felt like a warm blanket. For others, this book might feel like more of a scratchy towel in its challenge. Whatever your values, this is a must-read for anyone interested in curriculum.

Michael Puett: The Path

This book is eminently useful for the way it showcases the Eastern paradigm. I stole an example from it in my speech at the Michaela book launch, with the toddler who says ‘thank you’ mindlessly, growing into the adult who can use the word with thought and understanding, to challenge the idea that explicitly teaching children (knowledge or behaviour) does not lead to adults who flail without the structures of a school.

J.D. Vance: Hillbilly Elegy

Vance’s tome details his life and upbringing, and interweaves through this narrative some fascinating statistics. It gives educators pause for thought on what is really needed to ensure poor kids succeed, and triumph against not only poverty, but the ideas and values that keep poor kids poor.

E.D. Hirsch: Why Knowledge Matters

This is the best of Hirsch’s books yet – a lucid and compelling case for knowledge. It is the number one book to read if you’re interested in the knowledge debate, or if you’re still not sure that teaching knowledge is the best way to raise academic standards for all children.

 

Other non-fiction:

Charlotte Gordon: Romantic outlaws: the extraordinary lives of Mary Wollstonecraft and Mary Shelley

If you love the Romantics, and you especially love the Romantic ladies, this is a must-read. An eye-opening lens on Shelley’s life and her mother’s influence on it, with the male poets an intriguing sub-plot (for once).

Howard C. Cutler: The Art of Happiness

This was the year I decided to try to calm my mind and quell my anxiety. Spoiler: I have not succeeded (yet). But this was one of the most helpful books in providing a different perspective on happiness, with some genuinely excellent advice to be mindful of in a modern world obsessed with acquisition and status.

Jon Ronson: So You’ve Been Publically Shamed

I read this book in the summer (and if you know anything about Michaela you probably don’t need me to explain why) and found it both hilarious (in its tone and humorous examples) and troubling. Why do we feel like we can hurl insults at people on the internet in a way we never would in real life? Anyone interested in this should also watch the latest series of Black Mirror on Netflix.

Simon Sebag Montefiore: The Romanovs

Undeniably the most fascinating royal family in the history of the world, Montefiore’s tome explores the very beginning of their dynasty right through to the bloody and harrowing ending. This historian’s gift is to render those of the past in a convincingly human light, with details and insights from correspondence carefully chosen to humanise the fated monarchs. 

Fiction:

Margaret Drabble: The Millstone

Drabble’s central character in this little book defies every expectation of her society. A virgin when everyone around her is experimenting, then rapidly reversing to become an unwed mother who keeps her child against all the advice. The heroine will fill you with hope and admiration at her calm perseverance.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: Americanah

This book deftly interweaves ideas about race, class, history and geopolitics. The central character’s experience of moving from Nigeria to America and back again, with all the cross-cultural difficulties anyone who has lived overseas can empathise with, is intertwined with a quite beautiful love story. The shifting lens of the story is beautifully crafted, as we follow the heroine, who tells much of her lengthy tale to us at the salon, revealing her hopes, dreams, and fears in the most beautiful prose I read all year.

Elizabeth Jane Howard: The Light Years

This is the first of a long series of novels that document the lives and loves of a family living just before the Second World War. The cast of characters is large, but through different chapters you slowly begin to sense them knitting together, as they negotiate the start of the greatest upheaval of modern times.

 Elizabeth Von Arnim: The Enchanted April

I bought this book on an absolute whim, loving the idea of four strangers on holiday in a castle in Italy. A wonderful period piece, the whimsical nature of the chief perspective lends a childish delight and joy to all she sees. A life-affirming read. 

Zadie Smith: NW

This is my favourite of Smith’s novels yet. I loved the setting – near my school, I felt this gave an insight on the area I’m starting to get to know – and the relationships between the characters. At the centre is a strange relationship between two schoolgirls who have grown into very different adults, and surrounding them a cast of eternally intriguing others.

Joanne Harris: Different Class

This is a fantastically fun read, with a twist mid-way through that led me to frantically re-reading the first half of the novel to work out how I could have possibly missed it. Set in a traditional private school with a relentlessly modernising Headteacher, this novel also contains pertinent insights on education! 

Agatha Christie: Murder on the Orient Express

Despite my shameless love of murder mysteries, I had never read a single Agatha Christie novel before this year. A summer holiday to Devon changed all that. (Prior to reading ‘Murder on the Orient Express,’ my other choice for this slot was ‘Gone Girl,’ which is great by the way.) Christie is the absolute master of this genre. I’m now totally addicted to her novels. 

Anne Bronte: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

I’ve spent a lot of this year working on (and teaching) nineteenth century fiction, and I’ve come to enjoy it more than I could have possibly anticipated. Anne Bronte is the lesser read of the sisters, and this novel is disconcertingly modern: dealing with a painful, disastrous marriage, and forbidden love, you quickly forget that this is a novel not set in our own time. I would only caution do not read the blurb of the book which will absolutely ruin the plot twist. 

William Boyd: Any Human Heart

The wonderful Liz Cowley gave me this book, and it is now one of my all-time favourites. We follow the central protagonist through his journals, experiencing his life and all its adventures, longings, desires, failures. Deeply moving.

Top reads of 2015

Non-fiction

Naomi Wolf – The Beauty Myth

This book is a scathing attack on the messages the media sends to women about how they should look and act. It made me really angry, in a good way.

Matthew Syed – Black Box Thinking

Syed explains how we learn from failure, and if we don’t, we are idiots. This is great for getting a new perspective on the ‘gift’ of feedback.

Susan Scott – Fierce Conversations

Sarah Donachy, the smartest person I’ve met this year, told me to read this. It really challenged my tendency to be a bit too cuddly rather than having the difficult conversation that is needed, and I’ve revisited it lots.

Irvin Yalom – Love’s Executioner

Joe Kirby told me to read this when I was feeling a bit stewed up. It’s great for giving perspective, and making you realise your emotions are in your control.

Eric Kalenze – Education is Upside Down

Since Research Ed 2015, I haven’t stopped hearing about this book, and it lived up to the hype. A great exploration of why education is set up to make disadvantaged students fail, and what we can do about it.

Anna Funder – Stasiland

I read this in Berlin, and it really brought to life the reality of living in the German Democratic Republic. The injustices suffered in East Berlin and East Germany in general astonished me.

Daniel Willingham – Raising Kids Who Read

Having listened to Katie Ashford, the guru on reading, for 2 full years, this was the year I finally began to grasp the reality of how children read, and this book really helped.

Daniel Koretz – Measuring Up

Daisy Christodoulou recommended this book at Research Ed in 2014, and it explained excellently the flaws in our current assessment model, and a better way forward.

Doug Lemov – TLAC 2.0

The first ‘Teach Like a Champion’ changed my life, and yet Lemov has improved even on this. The only guide a teacher needs for improving their classroom practice.

Fiction

John Steinbeck – The Red Pony

I read this and wept. A wonderful exploration of growing up, told beautifully in Steinbeck’s ever-complex simplicity.

Somerset Maugham – Of Human Bondage

This novel has stayed with me more than any other I’ve read this year. The horribly flawed characters and their ghastly choices felt so real and so close as I read it.

Donna Tartt – The Goldfinch

Unbelievably, even better than ‘The Secret History.’ An astonishing tome of a novel, feeling epic in its scope.

Ian McEwan – The Children Act

This book has one idea, and it explores it in great depth. A searing look at love and relationships.

L.P. Hartley – The Go-Between

My last line-manager recommended this book to me. I adored the narrator’s innocence which was gradually eroded throughout, and the ideas of class and community.

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