To summarize my year in books and reading, I am absolutely delighted to note that when scrolling through the selections, I can find something memorable about each book on the list, and it would be uncommonly difficult to choose a Top 3 (I’ll try) or Top 5.
This means that I chose well, given my amply documented prejudices. Three of the selections are global beer compendiums I read in preparation for the book that wasn’t written; two are surprisingly entertaining contemporary America-centric novels; and the remainder (inevitably?) have to do with Europe and/or the planet at large.
40 Years in Beer (Book II), Part 81: In 2025, the heaviness got me good, and I did NOT write a beer book
Nothing new about my Eurocentrism, is there?
In fact, I’d like it very much if 1117 E. Spring St. might become an official, walled European Union consulate and compound, insulated from the surrounding MAGA-esque foolishness in Nawbany. I do my best to make it like this, anyway, absent only the fencing.
In any event, it is relatively easy to declare that Winterberg’s Last Journey, a novel by Jaroslav Rudiš, is my pick for book of the year (in Roger’s inner world).
In essence, Winterberg is a...
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