4 Biographies to Read in 2020

This January I went on a bit of a biography kick. To be honest, I have never been the biggest fan of biographies. If I were to head to a bookstore, it would be likely that I would not venture anywhere near the aisles that hold names such as the Obamas, Steve Jobs and Nelson Mandela. Though undoubtedly interesting, I generally crave losing myself to another world, not the one we are in. But by a peculiar turn of events, I found myself with a box of 13 biographies and autobiographies to read over the winter holidays.

 I felt daunted by the task ahead of me, hoping (but secretly convinced otherwise) that I would not be drudging through them all winter long, forcing myself to get through the books. Imagine my surprise when I not only flew through most of them with ease, but loved some of them so much that I could hardly put it down. My experience has left me itching to get into a bookstore and peruse the shelves of the biography shelves that I had so often avoided previously. 

So, anticipating that others felt the way I did about biographies, I have listed my favourites that I read in January to give you a starting point to branch out your reading list.   

Breaking and Mending by Joanna Cannon

This was the first autobiography I picked up from my selection of 13. Telling the story of Cannon’s journey through the medical profession, from medical school to becoming a junior doctor, Breaking and Mending offers a startling insight into the toll of the medical profession. Having come to the medical profession a bit later than usual (in her late 20s), Canon is able to bring the perspective of life outside the medical profession in a way I have not previously encountered. Cannon brings to light the astoundingly long hours and the mental and emotional exhaustion doctors endure. Drawing on testimonies from others in the medical field, including nurses, other junior doctors and sometimes even patients, the book humanises the profession, drawing attention to the immense importance of the healthcare system and those within it. 

Written in a literary style, Cannon, who is also a fiction which is an asset to the narration of her life, offers both an easy read with quick chapters while nevertheless being incredibly emotive. Cannon’s approach to the stories of the loss of her patients is always sensitive and respectful even though some stories can feel sensationalist at times, intended for shock factor. Nevertheless, it is successful in making it almost impossible for the reader not to feel empathetic. Many years of hospital dramas and soap operas have created a romanticised expectation of what healthcare looks like from within. Canon’s story not only draws attention to the reality of working in a hospital but cost of it on the doctors and nurses. 

My Past is a Foreign Country: A Muslim Feminist by Zeba Talkhani

Tracing her life as an Indian, muslim girl growing up in Saudi Arabia, Talkhani’s autobiography offers the incredible story of a woman attempting to tread the line between her patriarchal traditions and a desire for the freedom to be a modern woman. Only 26 at the time of writing, Talkhani’s book is simultaneously incredibly revealing of the situations and familiar for young women from traditional families and culture. Things that may seem very simple to Western audiences, such as going to university and choosing a field of study, are complicated by both Talkhani’s religion and gender. 

Perhaps the most interesting part of the autobiography is the details relating to Talkhani’s relationship with her parents. Common in South Asian narratives is the complex mother-daughter relationship. Indeed, while many people assume the difficulty to originate from the male members of patriarchal households, it is rather the female relationships that can perpetuate a cycle of oppression and limit opportunities. Talkhani is able to illustrate the tension of being a modern woman, ambitious, independent and driven, but simultaneously feeling unwilling to break with one’s culture and traditions. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who would like more first-hand information on how some traditional families and cultures can be. 

My Last Supper by Jay Rayner 

Rayber’s autobiography introduces the reader to the life of the food critic through the lens of a single question that he is frequently asked by interviewers: What would your last meal be? For Rayner, this is not a question that can be answered with a simple response. Instead, Rayner uses every chapter to articulate in detail every element of his final meal. From oysters to chips, and the accompanying playlist he includes, is imbued with memories from his life justifying his choices. 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, seeing as he is a seasoned (pun intended) restaurant critic, Rayner does have a habit of waxing on a little too poetically about the foods included on his list. While successfully making his readers incredibly hungry, it is difficult to match the passion Rayner has for food and the task of choosing his final meal by simply reading about it. The central question of the autobiography gives the book a focus and direction, however, the snapshots of his life are not adequate enough to draw the reader into wanting to know the author.

One Hundred Miracles: A Memoir of Music and Survival by Zuzana Ruzickova and Wendy Holden

Gathered and combined from her diaries, letters and interviews into the resultant book, Zuzana Ruzickova’s biography delves into the life and tragedies of the Czech harpsichordist. Born into a loving household to Jewish parents, Ruzickova’s life, as a result of extraordinary musical talent, seems destined for grandeur. However, the rise of the Third Reich changed all that. THe book examines the immense strength and will necessary to survive the horrors of the 20th century. From German concentration camps to a life behind the Iron Curtain as a non-communist, Ruzickova’s life is a testament to the influence music, the central theme of the biography, can have in times of tragedy. 

Co-written with Wendy Holden, the autobiography takes an innovative approach of structuring Ruzickova’s story non-chronologically. Moving back and forth, before and after Ruzickova’s time at Auschwitz, the unconventional approach gives the biography a literary element, playing with suspense and shock to draw the reader in. Moreover, the format results in creating emotional connections between the reader and the subject, allowing the readers to know and care for Ruzickova, significantly increasing the impact of the hardships she endured in the concentration camps and at the hands of the Soviet Union.