Twelve days of Christmas? Forget partridges and ladies dancing and see what books Catherine Murphy suggests, from Ballet Shoes to The Godfather.
by Catherine Murphy
On the first day of Christmas…
It seems like only yesterday I was wrapping up my holiday book choices and threatening to burn Jane Eyre for festive* reasons. A wise chap pointed out to me that Christmas shouldn’t come as a surprise, it’s the same day every year, and yet still as the calendar flips over to December I find myself clinging to the last of the pumpkins and refusing every literary reindeer sweater.
But like it or not, it’s happening.
The pre-wired trees are coming down from the attic, the shiny things are appearing in the shop windows, and all over Ireland little cherubs in their school uniforms are singing the same songs, gathered in groups outside the entrance to Dunnes, with their proud mammies holding up iPhones to record the moment. Now, you’ve agreed with your best friend not to bother doing gifts, and you’ve swapped the secret Santa name you didn’t want at work, but you have no clue what to get for your True Love.
Isn’t that always the way?
Sit back, throw that tedious classic on the fire, and let’s have a little song of our own…
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree…
I can’t imagine why anyone would want to receive a partridge or a pear tree, never mind in one. Pear trees are the needy, weedy sick-aunt of the fruit tree world and getting day care for partridges over the holiday season at such short notice would be a nightmare.
A better gift would be The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. A stunningly written story of a young man whose life is thrown into turmoil when his mother is killed by a bomb in an art gallery. Theo survives the blast and he grabs a small painting, The Goldfinch. The writing is beautiful and the story is both really long and entirely absorbing, and if nothing else you can use the hardback to throw at the partridge.
*any
On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, two turtle doves…
They look pretty but the cat will be after them as they perch on the top of the telly, distracting the teenagers from the latest Marvel muscle-movie.
Instead, get your True Love a vintage copy of the Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles comic. Or if they’re the studious type, how about The Two Gentlemen of Verona? (Disclaimer, I never got on with that one.) A Tale of Two Cities? (Ditto. Down with Dickens.) Or how about The Birds, by Daphne du Maurier? A creepy, freaky short story often published grouped with her other brilliant shorts, it’ll put you off every dove, pigeon, crow and gull, for good.
On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, three French hens…
Get half a dozen free-range eggs from Aldi and a copy of Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome. Wonder at how unbelievably privileged the threesome are in their humour and then rewrite the story set in Stephen’s Green duck pond and land yourself a book deal by the end of January.
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, four calling birds…
(Again, with the birds?)
If the Divergent series is your cup of dystopian YA violence, Four by Veronica Roth is an easy choice. Roth writes kick-ass characters loved by all ages, but don’t expect to fancy a gentle festive stroll after reading, unless you enjoy leaping between buildings and beating up the enemy.
A book that really stayed with me and a queer favourite, Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman has beauty and depth and will pull at the reader’s heart. No spoilers, but it very much deserves day four on the list.
And lastly, while we’re still on birds, Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks. Heart-breaking and brilliant, it’s not a cheery festive book but it’s written with true love on every page.
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, (sing it loud) five goooooold riiiings...
Why would anyone want five, though? I feel five is excessive, whatever body part you’re ringing.
How about the box set of Lord of The Rings? Wizards and magic and quests and stuff. If your True Love is Hobbitly inclined, go for a hard back – or for really fancy gifters, a leather bound set with fancy ribbons…
And if magic doesn’t rock your boat, you might try one of my all time favourite Agatha Christie’s, Five Little Pigs? A tale of love and deception and murder – of secrets and lies, and Poirot at his very best. What more can you want at Christmas?
(Editorial note: murder sounds great but try not to actually murder your family. That’s bad.)
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, six geese a-laying…
Now for once, this might be handy. Geese are a shocking price around Christmas and isn’t everyone after a goose for the oven?
For those of us not drawn to murdering fowl for the table, let me suggest a murder mystery brilliantly titled Six Geese a-Slaying, by Donna Andrews. The Meg Langslow Mystery series is loads of fun, and this one is nicely festive. Also extra points to another Donna Andrews title, Owls Well that Ends Well. If this makes you giggle you’ll be cozied up for your festive reading.
And for a real classic, Now We Are Six by A A Milne is a hug in a hardcover. No True Love could resist the pull of Pooh Beah.
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me, seven swans a-swimming…
Swans are terrifying, violent, and very territorial. Instead, how about The Godfather by Mario Puzo? You know how the book is always better than the movie? It’s true here, too. Violence, politics, control, and murder. Everything you need for a perfect Christmas.
Or there’s Wild Swans by Jung Chang, a multi-generational tale told through the eyes of women living through the horrors of China’s recent history. It’s another fairly bleak tale, at first glance, but the depth of the characters and the way the family work together is amazing. One for the quieter bookworm in the family.
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, eight maids a milking…
Ditch whatever Ant and Dec are doing on the telly and don’t rely on someone else buying you this one, True Love or otherwise. Give yourself The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood. You’ll be furious by lunchtime and raging by the time Strictly comes on.
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, nine ladies dancing…
(Note my tenuous link to Strictly…)
Step back in time and gift a first edition, or a new edition, or a second-hand 50 cent copy from the charity shop, of Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild. It’s a magic story of love and determination and girl power.
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, ten lords a-leaping…
This is a classic, and a beauty: Dancer, by Colum McCann. Beautiful, tender, everything about this book is literary perfection. Colm McCann is a genius and this is my favourite of all his books. Also the cover on my old, battered edition is kind of snowy, which is nice.
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me, eleven pipers piping…
Graphic Novel Time:
For a retelling of the pied piper of Hamlyn, try Piper by Jay Asher and Jessica Freeburg. It’s fairly short but brilliantly drawn graphic novel – think Neil Gaiman crossed with Jen Campbell. There’s something exquisite about a story told in pictures and words and graphic novels deserve a place on all literary lists.
Also, to pop one of my favourites in here, if you haven’t read Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel there’s another bleak, dystopian classic to treasure. Just in case the Atwood hadn’t floored you.
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, twelve drummers drumming…
Why? Who could have thought that was a good idea? What do you feed them, for a start? None of us have enough food to feed a dozen extra drummers.
Instead, head down to your local bookshop. Take your True Love with you, or take your dog, or your best friend, or go alone. A gorgeous copy is always lovely but the second-hand tatty, broken paperback of Ballet Shoes for 50 cent is still the same story and the library is free.
Treat yourself or your True Love to the book you wanted to read this year, and escape from a world of silly partridges and ridiculous ladies dancing, and fall into a story…
Catherine Murphy
