The Worst Books of the Year?

While everyone -- including January Magazine -- is busily compiling their lists of the best books of 2010, on The Guardian’s book blog, Sam Jordison (Sod That: 103 Things Not to Do Before You Die) offers up some of his ideas on the worst:

Time for a reality check. We've got a Tory government. The economy is broken. Spike Milligan is still dead. We're one year closer to the day our sun explodes. Banging on about how much you enjoyed Jonathan Franzen's Freedom isn't going to cheer anyone up or change anything. Except maybe making them worry about how much closer they're going to be to death by the time they've waded through its 600-odd pages.

The problem, Jordison finds, was that 2010 book crop was actually pretty good:

Having said that, as far as this blog goes, I'm disappointed to note that it's been a pretty strong year for English language fiction. The Booker prize went to a fine writer. The shortlist was pretty good too. Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, there were decent novels not only by Jonathan Franzen but also by Philip Roth and Bret Easton Ellis. If Martin Amis hadn't published something this year I'd be worrying about novels generating any bile at all.

There’s more to Jordison’s piece and it’s here.