reactormag.com
Jo Walton’s Reading List: December 2025
Books
Jo Walton Reads
Jo Walton’s Reading List: December 2025
Hooray for romantasy, new Penric, Poul Anderson, and movie reviews…
By Jo Walton
|
Published on January 20, 2026
Comment
0
Share New
Share
December was spent entirely at home in Montreal, writing, and then having a migraine for a couple of weeks, and then celebrating the holidays with family and friends. I read twenty books, and have some excellent recommendations for winter reading.
Pulling the Wings Off Angels — K.J. Parker (2022) Another Parker novella, new to me, with fascinating (if icky) metaphysics. Maybe it’s just me who finds Parker so irresistible, but I charged through this in a couple of hours. Fun, in that inimitable Parker way. I think if you don’t find the title already too off-putting, you’ll enjoy it.
Hana Khan Carries On — Uzma Jalaluddin (2021) Another romance novel set in the Muslim community in Toronto, this one about rival restaurants. Khan is a very good writer, and I enjoyed this, but not as much as Much Ado About Nada. I have preordered her new one. This is an interesting community and she’s a very good writer.
Salon Fantastique — edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (2006) Interesting anthology of things commissioned from writers Datlow and Windling like, without a theme beyond the idea of a fantastic salon of stories. It trended a bit too much towards horror for me, which is the editors’ taste and not mine, but there were stellar stories by Delia Sherman and Greer Gilman, among a bunch of other very good stories.
Testimony of Mute Things — Lois McMaster Bujold (2025) A new Penric and Desdemona novella, set a long time before the leading edge of this series, when Penric is still young and not as settled into having a demon companion. I enjoyed it a lot, the mystery is good, and so are the characters. It’s odd though, reading a story from early in the series but that has just been written. You know the new characters, however fun, are not going to be recurring characters, because you haven’t seen them later/before, unless they’re going to show up much older. Bujold must like writing out of order—she does it in the Miles books too.
Three Nights in Italy — Olivia Beirne (2023) Romance novel set in Italy—well, that’s what I thought it was, but actually it was very low on romance and mostly a novel of family reconciliation set in Cornwall and Italy. It had way too many points of view, and way too many plot-convenient travel delays, and I’m afraid I’m going to damn it with the faint praise that it was fine.
The Office of Ceremonies and Advancement in Curial Rome 1466-1528 — Jennifer Mara DeSilva (2022) This, on the other hand, was terrific. It looks at the careers of three men who were Master of Ceremonies to the pope in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries; it looks at who they were, where they came from, how they advanced, the books they wrote, and the shape of their careers. In detail. Now you may say I only care about Johann Burchard, but in fact I also care quite a lot about Paris de Grassis, and about patronage and networking in the Renaissance in general. This book was really useful and I enjoyed it. It may be a bit too specialised, though.
Hither Page — Cat Sebastian (2019) Mystery romance, set immediately after WWII in a village in England where two men are trying to get on with their lives and unexpectedly have to cope with a murder and with falling in love with each other. One is a doctor and one is a spy. It had some excellent minor characters, in the way of these murder-in-a-country-village books, but it had too much angst to be cosy and too much cosiness to be any other genre. I’m not sorry I read it but probably won’t seek out the sequels.
Fangirl — Rainbow Rowell (2013) Re-read for bookclub, and the bookclub discussion on this book was very interesting, with great comparisons to Pamela Dean’s Tam Lin. This is a book about a less-outgoing twin going to college when her more-outgoing sister wants to strike out on her own. Cath’s life is largely lived through fanfic, and in the novel we get bits of the original fiction she writes in, bits of her fanfic, and her life meeting new people and making new friendships, and coping with the family situation she always had. This book is great, so well written and excellent. I’ve preordered Rowell’s next book too.
Love In a Time of Hate: Art and Passion in the Shadow of War — Florian Illies (2021), translated by Simon Pare This is an absolutely brilliant non-fiction book that isn’t like anything else. It’s little snippets of biography of people living and falling in love and making art in France and Germany in the years leading up to WWII. So it has a few pages each about lots and lots of people, and it’s written by year, and it comes back to some people but not others, and it’s hard to describe the cumulative effect of reading it. Illies has another one about 1913 which I really want to read now. Highly recommended if you’re at all interested in inter-war Europe, though you might want to take it a bite at a time.
The Italian Daughter — Soraya Lane (2022) A romance novel set in Italy, a story about a girl working in a vineyard in Italy while investigating the story of her grandmother’s mysterious origins. There’s also a love story set in the 1930s and 40s about her great-grandparents. In one way this book makes no sense—in the Innocenti museum in Florence there’s a very moving room that exhibits objects that people left with the babies they gave up, hoping to reclaim them. They are not the kinds of things that are left for the great-granddaughter to investigate here, and really, you could just put your name and address, it doesn’t have to be mysterious clues! But moving swiftly on, because this kind of thing totally doesn’t work when you think too much about it, I was charmed that the great-grandfather made a fortune by inventing essentially Nutella.
The Harwood Spellbook: The Complete Series — Stephanie Burgis (2025) All right, if this is romantasy I like it. This is a series of delightful romances in a world similar to that of Randall Garrett’s Lord Darcy novels. In those books we are repeatedly told that when King Richard the Lionheart came home from Crusade he codified the laws of magic. In this world, Boudicca repelled the Romans with the help of her magic-wielding second husband, and ever since, the country has been ruled by powerful women with the help of their magic-using husbands. There are problems with elves, and fae, and sexism, and we start with a woman who wants to be a magician instead of a politician. My only objection is to the word “Angland,” the island should be called Prydain or Albion, but this is a very precise and fussy objection. There’s just enough worldbuilding to be fun, the romances work the way genre romances work—this is a good thing—there’s a female/female romance, there’s a cross-species romance, and it’s all well written and fast-moving and fun. Very much worth it if you like this genre or if you want to figure out what’s going on with it.
Domenico Ghirlandaio, Artist and Artisan — Jean K. Cadogan (2001) Terrific biography of Ghirlandaio, my favourite Renaissance artist who isn’t a household name. Cadogan builds up his life story using family papers and commissions and apprenticeship papers, and by looking at the art. It’s a fairly short book but I loved it. I think this would be approachable by anyone, but you might want to look at the art in colour online when she discusses it because black and white doesn’t do it justice.
The Seine: The River That Made Paris — Elaine Sciolino (2019) An American journalist who has been living in Paris for years writes the story of the river Seine. This is fine. It isn’t deep or open, so it has the wrong amount of her in it. It has some mildly interesting detail about the river and the city and the history, but too often it’s her meeting with a museum person or a firefighter or whatever and shallowly interviewing them.
The Most Beautiful Woman in Florence: A Story of Botticelli — Alyssa Palombo (2017) Historical romance that could have done with a lot more research. First, carriages had not been invented. Second, if they had, you wouldn’t take one between Ognissanti and Palazzo Medici, I can walk it in ten minutes. And… just don’t get me started. But it was sufficiently well written to keep me reading all the way through, even when I was rolling my eyes at the errors. It’s not really about Botticelli, it’s about Simonetta, and it does her well even when it doesn’t understand social structures properly.
Carry On — Rainbow Rowell (2015) Reread. The sequel to Fangirl; this is the book that is Rowell’s own version of the love between eighteen-year-old sworn enemies who have to fight together against the Insidious Humdrum. It’s a lot of fun, and I couldn’t resist reading it after reading Fangirl. Rowell is a very grabby writer.
A Valley in Italy — Lisa St Aubin de Terán (1994) Reread, bath book. This is Terán’s memoir of buying a house in Umbria and living in it as it is being restored. Whether she’s writing autobiographical novels or memoir, Terán’s material is always herself, cannibalized in different ways, truth and lies, shaping and reshaping. In a lot of ways this book isn’t about anything—it’s about a year in a house with builders always there, it’s how they coped without water, without electricity, how they made friends in the village, how they got their furniture out of customs hell in Genoa. Trivia, but written about in a fascinating way that feels as if she’s being open and sharing, even oversharing, although I know (from having read other things) that she was keeping a lot back.
Swept Away — Beth O’Leary (2025) Terrific romance novel, O’Leary’s best yet, highly recommended. This is an excellent example of a book where, if you trust me, you should just read it now, and don’t look at the blurb, because it was so delightful reading it not being spoiled for what happens at the end of chapter one. However, for the rest of you, this is a book about two people who have a one-night stand on a houseboat, and the earth moves for them, but actually that was the houseboat drifting out to sea, and when they wake up there’s nothing but sea and sky. Literally swept away. This is a funny, clever, sensitive, well-written, and well-thought-through novel about two people falling in love on a houseboat in the middle of the ocean and coping with who they are and their lives and the rest of the world. We get both of their points of view, and it really works.
All One Universe — Poul Anderson (1996) Sometimes I have said that all of SF can be seen as variations on a theme by Poul Anderson, because he wrote so many now-standard things for the first time. Also he threw out ideas as minor pegs in stories that other people would have made into whole trilogies. This is the stuff I grew up on. This collection of stories and essays is just delightful—great thought-provoking stories, and mostly interesting essays, and I loved it. Being at NASA as the Voyager pictures came in! Uncleftish Beholding! And the stories are SF or alternate history and they’re terrific. I bought this as an ebook when it was on sale very cheaply and then looked around for a physical copy to give to a friend for Christmas and couldn’t find one at any kind of reasonable price. If you like science fiction stories, if you like Anderson or if you want to try Anderson, you can’t go wrong with this.
Roger Ebert’s Four-Star Reviews 1967-2007 — Roger Ebert (2007) This is a very, very long book, and it took me more than a year to get through it. It contains a lot of movie reviews, covering Ebert’s whole career and forty years of films. It is arranged alphabetically by movie, which gives you the kind of whiplash the alphabet so often provides. I have seen some of these films. I now want to see some others included here. I have no desire to see many of them. But it was interesting reading Ebert’s comments, and thinking about this entire medium over time. He liked The Princess Bride. He liked Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars. Ebert is an engaging companion, so even though I don’t watch a lot of movies I enjoyed going along with him on this tour of what he liked. Normal people who watch movies might wish to read his essays along with watching movies, and perhaps not read all of them. But hey.
Soldier of the Mist — Gene Wolfe (1986) Re-read, technically. I read this when I was in college when it came out, and I hated it. I knew just the wrong amount, and I found it irritating. How interesting to re-read it now and find it the same book but now I love it. So, there’s a guy called Latro who is amnesiac in a particular way where he can remember about twelve hours, receding, as if his memory is being wiped out by a sponge. And this is the scroll he writes to remind himself of things, and without it he doesn’t know who anyone is or who he is or what’s going on. What’s going on is the Persian Wars, and he can see gods and ghosts. He translates the names of places, so Athens is Thought and Sparta is Rope (which drove me bonkers in 1986 and it still isn’t my favourite thing), which gives it a special feel. On this reading I found the way it is written very powerful and effective, and I couldn’t put it down. In 1986 I kept wanting to say “You’re very clever, now shut up!” I still have a tiny bit of that, because after all that the book doesn’t go anywhere, it isn’t for anything, but there are two sequels, and I feel hopeful that there will, in the end, be some kind of payoff. But gosh the prose is beautiful and the whole thing rings true. Excellent book for the last book of 2025. Take a deep breath and plunge in if you haven’t read it already.
[end-mark]
The post Jo Walton’s Reading List: December 2025 appeared first on Reactor.