April 2025 Reading Journal
From China to Aotearoa + a focus on form
April happened. What the hell, 2025? The themes for April were Chinese history and Kiwi-lit. The former was a coincidence, but the latter was very intentional. I’ve been quietly ashamed for a while now about my internalised Tall Poppyism. I’ve noticed that I instinctively avoid the ‘NZ Author’ tables in bookstores. Why? If I poke it, it’s a subconscious bias around Kiwi inferiority. Isn’t that garbage? Other countries, as small and smaller than ours (Ireland and Iceland, et al) do a phenomenal job of supporting and celebrating their local arts scenes. But here in NZ, like with so many other things, we shrink with shame and apologise for our existence instead, making sure to take public stabs at anyone who makes it big offshore. Ugh.
Well, NO MORE! Over half of my April reads were by Kiwi authors, all women, cos up the girls. Except one essay collection, it’s an All-Novels type situation - (but hold the phone for May because I’ve gone essay-mad.)
Pick of the month: Bad Archive by Flora Feltham
My rating: 4.6/5
TL;DR Personal essays that breathe life into the minutiae of your life and feel like a comforting friend.
From now on, I will pick my favourite book each month.
This month, it’s Bad Archive (Victoria University Press, 2024), a collection of personal essays by Wellington writer Flora Feltham. From the first page, Feltham assumes you’re as alert to the world as she is, treating the reader with reverence, as a fellow observer. It would be easy to fall into the delusion that you, too, might be seeing things as sharply as she. By the end of the book, I took her eyes with me, wondering how she’d describe the light on my curtains, arguments with my children, and reflections on my family history. Feltham is clever, funny, and self-aware without being self-deprecating. Whether she’s writing about drug-fuelled Eurotrips, seagulls at the tip, digital archives or weaving on a large loom, she brings a thoughtful wondering that never feels put on. The essays all felt like they belonged together, linked by the theme of shifting perspectives. It’s very Wellington without being the kind of overt Wellington I find annoying. I loved it, and I think you might too.
Read if: You want to see things with fresh eyes, without being lectured.
Avoid if: Don’t. Just give it a go, mate.
Wild Swans, by Jung Chang
My rating: 3.9/5
TL;DR Condensed history of modern China through the eyes of women. Intense, eye-opening.
I’ve been mulling over an idea for a story featuring three generations of women. After sharing my idea with a fellow writer, he replied, “Oh, like Wild Swans?” Because I live under a rock, I’d never heard of this book. I immediately requested it from the library.