Stuff I liked in 2024

Today, a round up of my favourite books, films, and music of 2024.

But first, here's some of what I've been up to:

• Jacobin published my review of Tim Winton's Juice, a compelling and harrowing new novel about the climate crisis. I wanted to explain to an international audience how Juice is a uniquely Western Australian novel, forged out of a petrostate where big fossil owns the government and climate impacts are intensifying.

In a Climate Dystopia, Solidarity Will Be Key to Survival

A new novel set in the harsh desolation of Western Australia imagines the dystopic future that mining billionaires are creating. Those who remain find beauty in nature and each other — but violent resistance has become key to survival.

Gerard Mazza

• For The Last Place on Earth, I've written in recent months on the housing crisis, teacher shortages, Telethon, Woodside's sponsorship of a cultural heritage conference, lessons from the US election, and Luigi Mangione. And I've started podcasting again.

Thanks for reading and supporting my work in 2024. Here's some stuff released this year that I enjoyed:

Books

Creation Lake by Rachel Kushner

This novel takes fairly unglamorous subject matter – life in a rural anarchist commune – and makes it stylish through the first-person narration of a very compelling protagonist: an American spy who is terrible at making moral judgements but excellent at making aesthetic ones. Weirdly, it was the second novel in a row I read about protesting French farmers, after Michel Houellebecq's Serotonin. (I'm yet to read his Annihilation, released in translation this year.) So I was delighted by Kushner's depiction of a clearly Houellebecq-inspired character, who visits the countryside for research purposes and becomes caught up in the action. It's one of the details that makes Creation Lake a rollicking good time, even as it explores serious themes, reflecting on the difficulties of trying to escape ideology and of living out one's radical politics.

My First Book by Honor Levy

If you want to understand the irony-laced, pessimistic, and kinda extreme nature of Gen Z politics, this short story collection is a pretty good place to start. The heart of the collection is 'Z Was for Zoomer', a narrative in the form of an A-to-Z glossary of slang. It's playful, compassionate, and genuinely useful to anyone wanting to understand terms like 'based', 'doomer', and 'redpilled'. Sure, it's all very much of the moment (or of a slightly earlier moment, the timelines of the publishing industry not able to keep up with the constant churn of meme culture), but there are things here that could be more lasting, too: explorations of what its like to live in a world where everything is accelerating all the time, of being aware that society is unfair but not knowing what to do about it, and of the way identities can both calcify and dissolve online.

Intermezzo by Sally Rooney

Whenever I pick up a Sally Rooney novel, I find it very hard to put back down. In this one, she expertly uses free-indirect speech to shift between the perspectives of three quite different characters, adjusting her language to suit. Intermezzo explores the complexities of familial and romantic bonds, and of how people come to believe stories about themselves and others that might not actually be true. Like her previous work, it has something of the structure of a 19th-century novel, which is part of what makes it so compelling. Intermezzo reminds us that life and love can be strange, sad, and wonderful. The novel also has an interesting religious dimension, though the characters generally meet God in their lives, rather than in churches. To them, an awareness of God variously provokes fear, awe, and love. There's more going on in this blockbuster novel than Rooney's detractors might have you think.

Juice by Tim Winton, which I reviewed for Jacobin.

Films

The Apprentice, directed by Ali Abbasi

The Apprentice is a reminder of just how gross Donald Trump is, but it's more than political propaganda. The lead performances are great – Sebastian Stan inhabits some of Trump's famous mannerisms without becoming cartoonish. His Trump is an awkward young man, eager to impress, who just can't bring himself to care about anyone other than himself.

Anora, directed by Sean Baker

I loved the unpredictability and originality of this film. The protagonist Anora is a sex worker who is highly intelligent and has plenty of agency, but she is also subjected to brutality. The film is hilarious, though the jokes are often tempered by an atmosphere of discomfort, as if the film is daring you to laugh. The spoilt rich kid Vanya, son of a Russian oligarch, is a good representation of a certain type: I've met people in real life scarily similar to him.

Priscilla, directed by Sofia Coppola

Life at Graceland is represented as both glamorous and oppressive in this very stylish film.

Wicked: Part 1, directed by Jon M. Chu

Wicked is extremely enjoyable cinema. I've probably watched The Wizard of Oz more times than any other film, and who knows, people might be watching Wicked in the same way for generations to come. I think the film is rich enough.

Perfect Days, directed by Wim Wenders, which I reviewed earlier in the year.

Note: There are a lot of great-looking films already released in the US which won't make it to Australian theatres until next year. (The same thing happened last summer with Priscilla - hence it's inclusion in this list.) Why is there such a delay? Surely making Australians wait means they're more likely to pirate movies and watch them at home, rather than head out to cinemas?

Music

Short n' Sweet by Sabrina Carpenter

I saw a TikTok where Sabrina Carpenter said one of her favourite songs is 'Rocky Raccoon' by The Beatles, which is crazy but also checks out. 'Rocky Raccoon' is amusing storytelling in pop song form, and Sabrina Carpenter is an excellent, amusing pop storyteller. (Also worth your time is her recent Tiny Desk Concert with charming countryfied rearrangements of her hits. I enjoyed it much more than her lifeless Netflix Christmas special.)

Brat and Brat and It's Completely Different but Also Still Brat by Charli xcx

Back in July, I wrote about how I was tiring of brat discourse but very much enjoying Brat itself. Both remain true. Since then, the star-studded remix album has been released, playfully transforming fragments and ideas from the original into whole new songs. My favourite is the 'Everything is Romantic' remix with Caroline Polachek, who adds her soaring vocals and broadens the song's definitions of both 'everything' and 'romantic'.

Mahashmashana by Father John Misty

Josh Tillman is one of my favourite songwriters. Along with 'I Guess Time Just Makes Fools of Us All' (which I wrote about in September), I especially love 'Screamland', with its mysterious imagery, ambiguous religiosity, and maxed out compression on the chorus.

Wirlmarni by Kankawa Nagarra

I've been lucky enough to see Walmajarri Elder and blues troubadour Kankawa Nagarra perform a few times, in both the city and the outback, and she can really captivate a crowd. These recordings, produced by Darren Hanlon, were made on her homeland, and you can hear the love of country in them. Wirlmarni is an incredible blending of the ancient traditions of Aboriginal culture with American folk music traditions.

I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair by Christopher Owens

Since I was in high school, I've loved Christopher Owens's genre-blending and sincere, direct songwriting. I'm so glad he's still going and producing work this good.

'Diet Pepsi' and 'Aquamarine': singles by Addison Rae

These singles, plus the 'Aquamarine/Arcamarine' remix, had the most 'put-on-repeat-in-the-car' value for me in 2024. Addison Rae is a new-fashioned star with old-fashioned star power, and I can't wait for the album.

Only God Was Above Us by Vampire Weekend

I've always appreciated the Serenity Prayer, but as I get older it becomes more mysterious to me:

Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

I used to focus on the serenity and the courage, but now it seems to me the most important part is the wisdom. How much can we change? How hard should we push? What should we accept and allow? And what's the difference between spiritual and military surrender? This Vampire Weekend album had me asking similar questions, with its reflections on history, change, legacy, and letting go. It also sounds incredible. Vampire Weekend's characteristically ornate arrangements are peppered with blasts of uncharacteristic distortion and muck.

Here's a playlist with my favourite pick from each of these albums, plus the two Addison Rae songs:

Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read my writing this year. Happy New Year – see you in 2025.