Books of 2023

I made a mistake last year. I started the year off slow and didn’t think I was reading as many books – although I did end up reading a respectable 78 – and so I didn’t do a mid-year review. And I wasn’t writing as much so I wanted to catch up before I started my summaries, which honestly never worked. All of which meant that I was a good three months late to doing my review of the books from 2023, and that it’s really long. I do apologize for that. But it’s finally done, so here we go – short reactions to all the books I read last year, with longer reviews linked to when applicable.

Sophie’s World, Jostein Gaarder

Gaarder, a philosophy lecturer, wrote a very creative and engaging novel that is actually a series of philosophy lectures. This is a significant feat, and I was really enjoying this book and its clear description of the early parts of philosophy for most of the book. Unfortunately, though, by the end it went off the rails and the ending of did not make sense and seemed to break away from the points in philosophy he had previously been exploring before as well. Disappointing as the first two-thirds were great.

The Weak Spot, Lucie Elven

This is the type of book I should really like, with an unreliable and out of place narrator and a vague feeling of unease throughout. But despite that, and the good reviews, the book never came together for me. The feeling of unease was there, but never seemed to have anything to explain or justify it, and I never did quite grasp the world the story took place in. It felt thin and unrealized and I ended up disappointed.

So Big, Edna Farber

Pulitzer Prizes in the mid-1920s seemed to gravitate towards stories of people in the mid-western plains, often immigrant communities, and the lives they were building. I really appreciated and enjoyed this one, about a girl who lives a fairly privileged although unstable upbringing in Chicago until her father dies. She has to leave school and takes a job as a teacher in a Dutch community in the prairie, one which for most is deprivation and hard work, which she experiences for several years. But this is not so much a tale of struggle, but one of the beauty and value of trying to live a real and authentic life, to search for your joy and what you want rather than what should be done. It is a story of finding beauty even in the mundane and how this can lead to your own success. A very beautiful story.

This is How You Lose the Time War, Amal el-Mohtar & Max Gladstone

My second time reading this book and I still love it. The book is written from the perspective of two of the best warriors, Red and Blue, on opposite sides of a war that has been ranging across the many different strands and throughout the timeline of various Earths. The warriors come to respect and then love each other, leaving increasingly elaborate letters to each other woven in to the fabric of space and time. The book is absolutely delightful. For one thing, as far as I’m concerned once you’ve accepted that time travel is possible anything is possible so just lean in to that absurdity, you know? And they do that in a huge way, really enjoying and exploring how extreme this could get. El-Mohtar and Gladstone wrote this in a relatively short burst, with a general outline but primarily responding to one another with no time for research and planning. You can really sense the way they are having fun with it and trying to out do one another with their chapters, also perfect for the way Red and Blue are baiting and competing with each other. I love, love, love this book. It is one of my favorites, and can be read it one sitting by anyone looking for how to spend an afternoon.

T. Rex and the Crater of Doom, Walter Alvarez

I picked this up because in a What If? answer long ago Randall Munroe said that he thought that this was one of the best popular science books ever written. And you know what? He’s right. It is very easy to forget that some things that are accepted as truths today are relatively recent discoveries, scientifically speaking. The one that always throws me for a loop is how plate tectonics aren’t only fairly new as a theory, but were actively ridiculed at first for going against scientific orthodoxy. And even in Jurassic Park what caused the extinction of the dinosaurs is debated. The asteroid theory went against the general belief of gradualism in evolution and geology. Walter Alvarez, however, and his father, a geologist and physicist respectively, discovered the layer of iridium between the ‘dinosaurs’ and ‘no dinosaurs’ layers of earth and formulated the asteroid theory. In order to prove it, it took people working together across disciplines from geology, astronomy, physics, chemistry, biology, paleontology, and more. It is a long story of scientific critique and collaboration, but eminently readable, and really great tale for anyone interested in how science works at its best, or just in reading a extremely entertaining scientific mystery.

The Bridge of San Luis Rey, Thornton Wilder

This was an intriguing little book! While it was a novel, I can understand why it has been adapted for stage and screen so often, and it still often had the feel of a play. The book tells the story of five people who were on an old Incan bridge in Peru in the late 1700s when the bridge collapsed. A priest, trying to make sense of this tragedy and God’s place in it, finds out all he can about each person. What is told is the hidden stories of people in a town, their tragedies and hopes, and a story of life in this village. It isn’t about Peru so much as a tale of what people had looked for in their dreams and what had brought them to that point. A poignant portrait.

Early Autumn, Louis Bromfield

I do believe that stories of someone feeling adrift in their world of wealth, privilege, and social constraints is and always will be a staple American books and movies. Early Autumn, winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 1927, fits nicely in this niche. The story of a woman of some wealth who has married in to one of the wealthiest and oldest families in Boston, who lives on “the income of their income.” She feels asea, but is also the one who clearly holds the family together. A black sheep cousin has come home and befriended a boarder on the property, an up and coming successful Irish Catholic immigrant who makes her question her life, while at the same time her daughter is searching for the next steps in her life and some secrets from the family are coming to a head. It was pretty good, but these books from long ago are always feel a bit strange to me as the big moments of drama are things that wouldn’t make anyone bat an eye even 60 years ago now.

The Skeptic’s Guide to the Future: What Yesterday’s Science and Science Fiction Tell Us About the World of Tomorrow, Steven Novella

This is an exploration of what the future might look like, divided in to technologies that are being actively researched and feel like they might be in the near future (like Genetic Manipulation, AI, Quantum Technology), things that are being serious discussed but are still not really real (Fusion, Space Elevators and others), Space Travel tech, and then the real Science Fiction stuff (like Cold Fusion, Faster than Light anything, and Uploading Our Consciousness). This the type of nerdy book I’m in to, and it does a good job diving in to the potential upcoming technologies, but it not a great one. I barely remember the book at this point, and it didn’t really stand apart from others in this general wheelhouse.

Dinosaurs: A Novel, Lydia Millet

Children’s Bible was one of the best books I’ve read in the last few years, so I made sure to pick up Lydia Millet’s newest book when I saw it around. Millet is a fantastic author who is able to pull the reader in from the beginning. The story follows a man who has decided to up and move the Arizona desert and ends up next to a glass house. Being able to see into his neighbors at all times, he finds himself pulled in to their life. The story itself ends up being an exploration of loneliness, connection, and the need to be part of more than just ourselves as an island. It’s a very touching book, and one that I was able absorb in just two nights.

Better Buses, Better Cities: How to Plan, Run, and Win the Fight for Effective Transit, Steven Higashide

This is a relatively short book that packs a lot of information on the reasons to and challenges to improving public transit in the US. Anyone who has tried to get around in the US outside of a major city knows how dismal the state of public transit is, and this is a problem for people who want to limit their car use/carbon output, and for people who can’t afford their cars. The book does a good job of outlining the problems, and just how insanely wired everything about our society – up to and including the justice system—is towards cars, but like most books I want more of the ‘how’. There are things that look like common sense solutions, and more on why these can’t be done and what specifically we have to overcome would be useful to me. But still a good primer for people getting engaged in these issues.

The Secret Chord, Geraldine Brooks

Okay. Look, here’s where I am. I just think I’m done with books about Bible characters that are actually bad and all the torture and terror and humiliation of women that occurred at the time. Brooks is a good writer, and this is a well researched fictionalized deep dive into David, narrated by his prophet, Nathan. And there’s nothing wrong with the book itself, it’s just – I get it, okay. These characters aren’t all good, and being a woman just out and out sucked and it’s all awful. Really going in to detail about what happened to Tamar, or how Bathsehba may have not been entirely willing or appreciative of David’s attentions and his murdering of her husband, drives that home. But I don’t think I need to read about it anymore.

Uncommon Type: Some Stories, Tom Hanks

I watched something recently about the only extant typewriter repair shop and storefront in New York, and how Tom Hanks is a big fan. Honestly, seeing that made everything about this book make a lot more sense. These are a series of relatively sparse short stories, all centered around a typewriter in some way. Some are a bit mystical, some absurd, some straight forward tales of starting over or going through life. There are few recurring characters, but they mostly stand independently. I thought it was fine. Serviceable stories; there were a few that stood out but mostly they just passed the time.

No One is Coming to Save Us, Stephanie Powell Watts

Centered around a Black family in North Carolina, this takes place in a declining town as the kid who got away and made good is back. JJ has returned to his hometown to buy the most prestigious home and lot and fix it up, winning back his high school sweetheart, Ava. She’s in a strained marriage trying to have a baby; her husband is worried about keeping his job; her mother is sick of and not fully wiling to end her marriage; her brother hasn’t spoken to them for ages although her mother regularly has long ‘conversations’ with him. The whole town, mostly Ava, want to know what JJ is doing back, and his return puts the rest of their lives in stark relief. I’m not sure I fully grasped everything about this book, but I am sure the feeling of it is going to stick with me for a long time.

Survival of the Richest: Escape Fantasies of the Tech Billionaires, Douglass Rushkoff

Just like we found that Exxon had been secretly planning for how the worst of climate change would impact their bottom line while fighting fiercely against stopping it, the wealthiest people who could easily put money towards climate solutions are instead funding right-wing fascists fighting against climate policies and paying ridiculous amounts of money for their own climate escapes and climate security. There’s a lot of things that are terrible about this, and mostly Mark O’Connell  covered them better in his wonderful book about dealing with climate hopelessness while raising kids and planning for the future. Rushkoff does a pretty good job with explaining what the wealthy escapists and preppers are doing and why; so much of it has to do with a horrifying level of individualism and disdain for community and humanity. My one complaint is based on his own background Rushkoff is more willing to take it as a given that this is awful rather than exploring why it is so bad and it’s implications they way others have done.

The Body is Not an Apology: The Power of Radical Self-Love, Sonya Renee Taylor

We read this for my book club, after a few people had been to talk by the author. I would say it was fine. Memoirs and self-improvement/self-empowerment aren’t exactly my jam. Other people really enjoyed it and felt affirmed by it. It was a short read, though, and definitely a YMMV situation.

The Immortalists, Chloe Benjamin

This is another type of book that I wasn’t really sure I loved while I was reading it, but I have thought about it a lot since. Four Jewish siblings, children of immigrants, go to see a Roma ‘witch’ they’ve heard about who can predict the future. What she can do is tell you exactly when you are going to die, but nothing more about how or why or what happens in between. We then follow each sibling and how it affects them; how much of their deaths are because they knew the future and went towards it rather than tried to avoid it; whether it gave them freedom or constraints; and how it is tied up with their family and heritage and pain.

What We Owe the Future, William McAskill

Here’s the thing about longtermism: it feels like I should agree with it. I do think that owe something to future generations. I do think that we should plan for the long term. I do believe that we should think about how what we’re doing today can have consequences in the future. But then longtermism takes what should be an easy sell and takes some very weird turns. For one thing, they seem to be under the belief that most people don’t think we should care about the future and we need philosophical contortions to get there and, well, I don’t think that’s true. Even economics and the discount theory don’t think people ignore the future completely. Then there’s the fact that to prove we should care it takes utilitarianism to the extreme. Taking hedonic calculus to the extreme — and trying to calculate it across billions of years — can end up with some very weird conclusions. About whether a life is worth living if you’re miserable, but also if one billion miserable people today are acceptable if there will be trillions of people capable of happiness in the future. And if increasing the total number of people means increasing the total amount of potential happiness in the future, then can’t we justify anything in the current days if we say it could lead to the potential for the greatest happiness overtime? Reading about all of this and the ridiculous hypotheticals and hedonic calculus over time based on nothing makes one realize this can be used to justify anything.

New York 2140, Kim Stanley Robinson

Stanley Robinson is probably one of the most admired climate fiction writers because of Ministry of the Future. New York 2140 similarly looks at what may be possible in the future. It takes place in a New York that has already mostly flooded. People get around by boat and real estate is even harder to come by than it is now, as it can only be higher levels of buildings. Another megastorm and financial crisis lead to the possibility we need to make real economic change and create a positive future. I like novels where nationalizing banks and turning socialist are serious plot points, and I enjoyed the different branches of the story, but I didn’t think it was nearly as solid as Ministry of the Future. The character development and arcs weren’t really there for me and some of the character choices didn’t make that much sense. But there’s still no one else really exploring in a deep way the themes of what changes we need that Stanley Robinson does – even in the nonfiction world – so it’s worth reading.

A History of the Universe in 21 Stars, Giles Sparrow

The problem with doing these round ups at the end of the year is that if I forgot to take notes at the time I sometimes can’t fully remember the book. This one, unfortunately, fall in to that category. It’s an exploration of human knowledge and the solar system based on some of the more important and recognizable stars. I do remember finding it interesting at the time, but not fascinating, and it seems to have faded as I’ve gotten farther away from it.

Laughing Boy, Oliver LaFarge

The Pulitzer’s go through cycles, and they went through one with White author’s writing from the perspective of other cultures. (Something that has returned at other times, unfortunately.) This novel is from a young Navajo man who meets a girl at a ceremony and decides to marry her, even though she is considered an outsider because she had been taken away and sent to one of the Schools. It was a short book that was certainly meant to more truly demonstrate Native culture to Whtie Americans. I can’t speak to how well it did that, but I did find one review that said it wasn’t a real representation of Navajo culture. However, whatever troubles we may see in the representation in the book today, at the time it was criticized for being anti-American for mentioning once that the Indian Boarding Schools weren’t a good thing. So, I guess good for this book for at least challenging the culture and ideas at the time? Yea?

Destroy All Monsters, Ed Brubaker & Sean Phillips

One of the NPR book concierge picks for 2022. This was a great graphic novel of a film noir, hard bitten detective type. It’s actually the last in the Reckless series, and I’m sure I would have benefited from the others, but it also stood on its own. It was a fun fast read for anyone who likes 70s style old school detective stories.

How to Take Over the World: Practical Schemes and Scientific Solutions for the Aspiring Supervillain, Ryan North

This book was sort of funny the way it was written. I liked their charts, and their chat group explanation of evolution. However, for my tastes I think North leaned in a little too hard in to the “practical” part, and not enough in to the “aspiring supervillain” part. I think I was expecting something a bit more like What If? that might take me through the crazy things that would happen if I really did have a lair inside a volcano, rather than something talking me down and asking me to have a boring lair. He basically explains why all our supervillain plans wouldn’t work, which I already know.  I wanted some tips on how to at least get close.

Playlist for the Apocalypse, Rita Dove

I would like to read more poetry, and starting last year have been trying to teach myself more about how to think about and appreciate it – I’ve actually really enjoyed the archives of the New Yorker Poetry podcast. But I still don’t really know how to think about it critically, even in an amateur sense. The details of poetry, including these, didn’t completely stick with me. But the sense of it did, and I do remember appreciating reading this book quite a bit.

Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century, Kim Fu

This was an intriguing, sometimes unsettling, collection of short stories. Some are surreal, some are futuristic, some fun and some disturbing, but it’s a really interesting collection of stories that I enjoyed heartily. The first, someone trying to convince an AI to let her experience a holographic interaction with her mother, was my favorite, but not the only one that stuck with me. Fu creates fully realized characters and brilliant scenes with a few short pages, and that’s what we always ask for in a short story.

Walking on Cowrie Shells, Nana Nkweti

The description that comes up most often when looking up this book was “genre bending” and that is 100% correct. The stories run the gamut from coming of age stories about a nerdy girl finding her place to someone recounting their time stemming a zombie outbreak after supposed mass death from Lake Nyos to the tale of a Mami Wata. It was excellent, though. And while I usually tend towards the science fiction or fantasy stories—and the zombie story was part of what made me want to read it—what surprised me was how much I loved the more slice of life stories. I know nothing about Cameroon, but the stories of a teenage girl finding her place – breaking out of the friends from the immigrant community to find her own people—and a tale at the end of a woman in her 30s going back to the American town she grew up in and the immigrant community and feeling out of place everywhere, and the pressures of the community, were surprisingly relatable. It was a great group of stories and Nkweti shows an amazing breadth of style.

Scarlet Sister Mary, Julia Peterkin

Well, it’s the Pulitzers in the late 20s, so it must be another White person writing about a non-White culture. In this case, Peterkin, who grew up in South Carolina, wrote a few books about the Gullah peoples of South Carolina. While the facts there are uncomfortable, I think this was pretty good? It was actually a very feminist book in the style of something like Sister Carrie or even There Eyes Were Watching God where a woman decides to live her own life, even as everyone else sees her as scandalous or a whore, and has a good life where nothing extra-ordinarily bad happens to her. In this case, Mary gets married to a very handsome player who takes off with another woman. Mary asks the local healer/witch to make her a love charm to get her man back and instead decides to use it for a succession of lovers while having kids she loves and a good life in her community. It’s great! I liked this one. And while yes, Peterkin writes in dialect, it never felt particularly othering or as if we were watching someone alien. And hey, I should stop complaining because we’re just a few years away from Gone with a Wind and a whole series of Lost Cause celebrations.

The Sandman Vol. 1-6, Neil Gaiman

I really like Neil Gaiman, and I finished all the Discworld books last year and was thinking of a new series. Then the Netflix adaptation came out, so I decided to pick this up. I went through the first few paper back collections – there are two more and a finale, I think—and they were, well, a lot. Gaiman’s knowledge of myths and stories is encylopedic, and it’s on full display here, but man, a lot of this was dark. Like, DC Comics after Alan Moore had showed how dark it could get dark. Which I guess is what it is. I was going to continue through for some of the mythology stuff, but it was too much for me and I don’t think I’ll complete it.

Bea Wolf, Zach Weinersmith, Boulet (illustrator)

Ah, another graphic novel but the complete opposite. Zach Weinersmith, of Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal fame, was telling stories to his kids, including classics like Beowulf. And he decided to change it for his 8 year-old daughter, creating a new version of kids and their amazing magical playhouse, and the evil grown up Grendel who wants to squash joy and turn kids into grown ups. In this tale, the nights of partying are forced to come to an end until young Bea Wolf shows up to fight the monster. It is so much fun, and so well done, and I adored it. It works on extra levels if you know Beowulf, but my kids loved it without that context and it works all on its own, too. Strongly recommend this, especially for precocious kids. You should definitely get it. 

A Tree or a Person or a Wall, Matt Bell

Another short story collection, and another book that was just too dark for me. It was dark without redemption and dark without a point, and I don’t like reading about bad things happening to kids. I ended up sort of skimming with my fingers in front of my eyes like I was watching I horror movie for the last few stories because I was close enough to the end I thought I should finish, but I probably should have put it down earlier. May be something for others; definitely wasn’t for me.

We Do This ‘Til We Free Us, Mariame Kaba

Mariame Kaba has been part of the abolition movement for a long time. And now that we’re having real talks about changing policing, we can also talk to those who really do mean defund the police, and who really do want to get rid of prisons. I think that it’s very important to expand our imagination of what is possible and think through what we could really do and mean. And I think it’s important to remember that some people have been involved in limiting policing and moving towards restorative justice in real ways for a long time – this isn’t a new conversation, even though it’s new to many. So I’d recommend this book. That said, Kaba’s short story at the end about a world without police and prisons runs up against the same problem this always does – what do we do with the worst and with people who do something evil? I’m not sure I or others would really approve of her solution, either. And while I don’t think we should treat everyone with systems we need for extremes, I do think the movement needs to grapple with them more. But other than that disappointment, it’s a valuable book to read.

Havana, Mark Kurlansky

I’ve been a fan of Kurlansky for a long time – narrative nonfiction that does a deep dive into a common but secretly fascinating substance is definitely my jam. Havana takes a different tack than some of the others, as it’s much more a memoir and history at the same time. The book takes us through the founding and history of Havana, Kurlansky’s memories of it, and some of the changes that have happened not just since the travel bans from the United States were lifted, but since the loosening of restrictions and need to raise funds after the Soviet Union collapsed. And while obviously some things need to change, capitalism and change always bring their own sadnesses, as well. Kurlansky mentions people being able to make contracts with their choice of national baseball teams slowly eroding the community sense the teams brought before, and the opening up and introduction of new products and new  money always changes the feel of a place. Kurlansky is writing as a frequent visitor, not a resident, so it’s hard to take from the book how things are changing for people who live there. But it is a reminder that there’s so much to every single place, even those that seemed closed off.

Adrift: America in 100 Charts, Scott Galloway

I heard Scott Galloway interviewed on Pitchfork Economics and knew this was my type of book. I bought it and before I read it my husband, who is not nearly as political as me, picked it up and ended up keeping it by his work desk to flip through constantly. His verdict, “I think everyone should look at this book.” It is a simple distillation of so many issues that combined tell a story about where we are today.

Zone One, Colson Whitehead

I haven’t read Underground Railroad yet (it’s on the list!), but I have read Harlem Shuffle and loved it, and Zone One has zombies, so… . I didn’t love it nearly as much. It’s written from the perspective of Mark Spitz, part of a team of sweepers finishing off zombies and rebuilding after the apocalypse. I thought the world building and take on zombies were fine, but the book felt a bit uneven to me with some parts more fully realized than others. I actually thought it was an early novel of Whitehead’s, as it had that feel to me, but it’s right in the middle of his body of work. All in all, fine, but I wasn’t blown away.

The Buddha in the Attic, Julie Otsuka

This slim volume is a creative exploration of the lives of Japanese brides arranged to be married to Japanese immigrants in the US, primarily coming to the states in the 20s, and following their lives up to the internments at the start of WWII. I was afraid this book would be too sad and difficult – at this point in my life I am very aware of suffering, thank you very much – but the book was not all pain and really explored the variety of experiences these women had. Its unique presentation helped, and kept me intrigued, as the book takes the first person plural or third person plural the whole time, and describes several different experiences that also blend together weaving a full breadth of experiences that nonetheless have similarities and shared lives. It was expertly done and a vivid and beautiful book.

The Year 1000: What Life Was Like at the Turn of the First Millennium, An Englishman’s World, Robert Lacey

I loved this. I’ve explained before that far more than the tales of harrowing experiences and suffering, I’m interested in how people go through their lives, almost no matter what. There are so many ways society and politics and economics can be! This was right up my alley, then, and talks about every aspect of life in England in the year 1000, whether what people could wear, what you might eat, how you’d travel, and how marriage worked. And Lacey is a very entertaining writer; the book is very informative and academic but not dry at all. I learned a lot.

Cult Classic, Sloan Crossley

Uggggh. I enjoyed this book so much until the twist at the end. Sorry for SPOILERS but there’s a vein of storytelling that seems to think that any creepy, possessive, psychologically abusive, distrusting, behavior by a guy is justified because of True Love and might even make the woman a better person and that is just not true. I really thought this might have escaped it and the ending would take it in the opposite direction, but Nope. Dislike.

How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe, Charles Yu

I love the premise of this book – bored 20 something is floating through life as a time repair person of sorts when a handbook falls in to his life and things take a timey wimey shift. Really seems like my type of thing. But somehow it just never hung entirely together for me. Something felt too thin or not fully realized and it just didn’t hit all the notes. It seems like there’s something there, but it didn’t show up for me.

The Candy House, Jennifer Egan

This is a sequel of sorts to one of my favorite books ever, Welcome to the Goon Squad. At least it takes place in the same universe and with some of the same characters even if it doesn’t really connect to the previous story. Goon Squad was more creative, but Candy House is still unique and wonderfully written. In a very near future where tech can literally store and project your memories in the cloud, there are also people who have decided to disappear and remove themselves entirely, sometimes even hiring someone else to pretend to create memories and social media for them so they can remove themselves. This sounds like the set up for dystopia, but it’s really just the background for life for the characters trying their hardest to get through the world, but with diversions like an entire chapter written as the field notes and instruction manual for a spy with memory implants, in between just the memory of summers by the pool with a selfish and inconsistent father. 

There There, Tommy Orange

Not a Pulitzer winner, but a nominee back in 2019 that maybe should have won. To be fair, I haven’t read The Overstory yet, but this book was excellent. Several Native Americans, with varying degrees of attachment to their heritage and tribe, have their lives intersect in different ways culminating in an armed robbery and shootout at a huge and important powwow. And in between are explorations of identity, heritage, colonialism, art, belonging, and family. I know that sounds like it could be sort of trite or sappy, but it’s not—it’s excellent and I’ll be thinking about it for a while.

The Good Earth, Pearl Buck

And here we’re back to White Westerners writing about other cultures. Pearl S. Buck lived most of her life in China and said she couldn’t write about anything else, but she wrote about Chinese peasants, not, you know, White missionaries like her and her family. I know this is one of the Pulitzer winners that’s stuck around for some reason, but I found the way she wrote about Wang Fun, the peasant who manages to raise himself to a wealthy landowner, really othering and dehumanizing, as was the way she approached almost every other character. That being said, there were flashes of interesting insight and if a Chinese author wanted to rewrite this from his wife, O-Lan’s, perspective I would read the heck out of that book.

Skeleton Hill, Peter Lovesey

Picked this up at a used book store because it sounded interesting. It was fine, but it’s a later book in a series so there wasn’t a lot of character build up to hang some of the interactions on. That being said, I think I caught up alright and it was a pretty serviceable British mystery. There’s a hard bitten detective with a by-the-rules but grudgingly indulgent boss, a lot of baggage, who has a problem with these new kids today but appreciates how they help him get things done. The plot can be filled in around all that.

Infinity Gate, M. R. Carey

Okay, this book was excellent. I loved its creative take on the questions of sentience; I loved its world building; I loved the propulsive writing. The Infinity Gate itself – which uses quantum probability to explore the infinity of universes –was creative and smart and is still enough of a mystery that I didn’t have to immediately dismiss anything that involves FTL travel. There were several strands of plot that come together expertly and I inhaled this book. My only problem with it is that it’s the first of a series, the next one won’t be out until 2024, and this isn’t a book that stands on its own. It just sort of stops, rather than ends, and I would like to read what happens next now, please and thank you.

Drunk on All Your Strange New Worlds, Eddie Robson

This was another fun one! An alien culture has made contact, but they only communicate telepathically. Only a few humans have the capability to do so as well and serve as translators. But the act of doing so makes them feel groggy and, well, drunk, at some point. Lydia has recently become the translator for the cultural ambassador when he turns up murdered. This ends up being a sci-fi book, a cli-fi book, and a murder mystery that attacks anti-immigrant sentiment. But even with touching on serious themes, it’s done so lightly. They’re basically snuck in to what is, at its heart, a really fun sci-fi murder mystery with a bumbling, sympathetic protagonist.

Heavy: An American Memoir, Kiese Laymon

I’ve probably mentioned before that memoirs are really not my cup of tea, but the book club voted on this one so what can you do? This book is written from a Black man who talks about his painful childhood – and in to adult life – in Mississippi. It covers abuse –sexual, physical, and emotional—racism,  poverty, his struggles with weight, his brilliant mother who also abused him and who’s life is a mess. It’s a lot. Others in my group loved it. I always feel so, I don’t know, creepy and voyeuristic when I’m reading about a real life like that for entertainment, even if the person wrote it themselves. I’ll put this down in the “not written for me” category, I suppose.

Once Upon a Space-Time and A Total Waste of Space-Time, Jeffrey Brown

My kids love graphic novels, and my son picked up these two books about a group of kids who get to be part of a elite group of children from several planets exploring the universe and different realities. It is really funny, it is full of very nerdy jokes, and it primes kids for some good tropes by including a grumpy robot. Very good for nerdy middle grade kids who like science, bad jokes, and cats.

The Value of a Whale: On the Illusion of Green Capitalism, Adrienne Buller

I really expected this book to have a more philosophical bent, along the lines of how we really do think about the value of a while. Instead it’s a critique of almost all economic-focused solutions to climate change or the conservation movement. Primarily market based criticisms, but also ones that look at finance and divestment. I sympathize with a lot of the critiques, and think offsets are useless at best and a harmful scam at worst. And carbon markets are useless and another way of moving money around. But even for my cynicism, I thought this book was a bit simplistic and ignored the way some economic critiques and actions are meant to be part of a wider movement and add to or build on other policy advocacy, not stand on their own. Plus, I felt a little duped by the title and wanted more philosophy and fewer bank statements.

Vacationland, John Hodgman

A bit of a memoir from John Hodgman of the time after writing his fantastic fake trivia books, and about he and his wife moving part time to his childhood home in New Hampshire and his wife’s childhood vacation town in Maine. I like reading Hodgman, and I appreciate how much he still finds his success surreal and recognizes his luck in the world. This was a good collection of essays on his thoughts on a number of things (mostly but not exclusively New England related), and with his delightful dry humor.

How to Stop Time, Matt Haig

My husband is a huge softy, and he has decided he loves Matt Haig. I like him alright. This one follows a man who ages extremely slowly, around 1/10th the rate of normal humans. And he’s not the only one, although it’s largely a secret. Partly because for a lot of human history it just wasn’t believed and people who had his condition were likely to get burned for witchcraft; partly because for the last 100 years or so they’ve been trying to keep themselves secret. There were some silly plot points, and I sort of saw the main twists coming, but mostly it was a good book to read. And I do have to say that I appreciate Haig’s earnestness and love of humanity and goodness, even if it’s not always for me. Most books by an immortal guy would have had their main character drowning his loneliness in fulfilling their fantasies and sleeping with hundreds of women over the centuries, but he keeps his loyal and in love and still connected to humans even though he has to live apart. He realizes characters, and does appreciate the nicer things in life, and sometimes that’s really nice to read.

Convenience Store Woman, Sayaka Murata

Another book club pick, and one that split the group. I really liked this book! I do think that it’s a bit oversold by a lot of reviews that say that it’s odd or quirky or has surprising twists, when it’s a pretty straightforward book. But I liked the main character, and I really appreciated what it said about people being themselves and the criticism of how people are forced in to different roles. The central message is really how many would rather see their friend or family following a script they know and miserable then doing their own thing and being happy, and how it’s important to still be true to ourselves despite that.

Old Gods, New Enigmas: Marx’s Lost Theory, Mike Davis

I dunno, man. Listen, I love The Communist Manifesto, and I appreciate Marx. I have a heavily marked up copy of Ideology on my bookshelf; I hate capitalism. But there’s a need for a certain strain of intellectual, Marxist, leftists to try to apply his (heavily modernist, heavily materialistic, heavily anthropocentric, written 150 years ago) writings to everything today and I think it’s okay to say that he didn’t think of everything. In particular, the need to pretend that Marx himself has a lot to teach the environmental movement, which is what this book tries to do, rather than think through how to apply Marxist analysis to the environmental movement or grapple with whether a modernist philosophy that was primarily concerned with liberating workers and thought industrialization was a step on that process is what we need for the current moment. Again, mad love to Marx, just, I don’t see the point or think it’s honest to pretend he was thinking of the non-human environment for even a second.

Utopia for Realists: How We Can Build the Ideal World, Rutger Bregman

Humankind is one of my favorite books I’ve read in the last few years, so I had to pick up Utopia for Realists. I so appreciate Bregman, and especially his holding on to the fact that things should be better. We’re in the richest time of human history, and can feed and house and give medicine to everyone, and somehow we don’t. We should all be gobsmacked by that. Bregman holds on to that and looks to policies we could enact now that would make the world better.

Mercury Rising, R. W. W. Greene

Some people get in to steampunk, but super futuristic Atomic Age science fiction is always catnip to me. That’s what we have here, with a world where space exploration and space settlements were much more advanced in the 50s and 60s, and there’s an alien civilization from Mercury that has threatened and occasionally attacked us and so far we’ve held at bay. That is the background against which a young Black man in New York whose father died in the space wars, and who has a good heart but occasionally gets in to trouble, ends up killing a shapeshifting alien at his friend’s enlistment party, gets caught with a bunch of contraband in his car (from the alien), enlists to stay out of jail, and ends up learning the secret that there are at least two alien civilizations at war that both want Earth and one of them used to be on the used up planet of Venus and currently keep numerous Earthlings there prisoners. As you might be able to tell from that brief summary the plot of this book is A Lot and I’m not sure it all entirely hangs together. The book is also the first in a series, but I’m afraid I was too overwhelmed by the plot—and too underwhelmed by the characters—to go further. It’s a shame; I’d had high hopes.

Turn Right at Machu Pichu: Rediscovering the Lost City One Step at a Time, Mark Adams

I loved Meet Me in Atlantis is one of my favorite books. Mark Adams undertakes the search for Atlantis with such an open and skeptical mind at the same time. So I’ve been eager to read others. This one covers his trek to Machu Pichu, a consideration of the many theories on how many other cities there are, and why and how the amazing cities of the Incas were even built with the technology they had. The book is part hiking travelogue by an aging explorer, a la Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods, and part real discussion of the amazing world that exists hidden in the rainforest. The civilizations that were built in the Americas are astonishing, and we know so little thanks to how much was deliberately destroyed, and how much is taken over quickly by the environment – a sphinx in the desert is going to last far longer than an entire city in the Amazon. It was a really fun and enlightening read by an entertaining story teller, and definitely put Machu Pichu higher on my dream travel list.

Years of Grace, Margaret Ayer Barnes

This is sort of a much, much longer – and less sheltered – version of Age of Innocence. Or a version of Early Autumn where we meet the protagonist far earlier. Years of Grace follows the life of Jane, a young debutante in Chicago. She has a group of friends, but only one who she is particularly close to—the others are more frivolous and she has quite shallow relationships. She has a young courtship with a young man, Andre, the son of European parents and with a dream of being an artist. For all her depth and yearning – she argues with her parents to go away to Bryn Mawr for a few years – she ends up married to rather drab and boring wealthy man from Boston; raises children; contemplates an affair but realizes that it is not the life she wants and she loves her children; lives a conventional by all accounts life while not entirely buying in to it. The reason it’s less sheltered than Age of Innocence is because there are families where the woman or the man have affairs and everyone knows it; she talks of her sister-in-law – and later daughter—who have never had a beau and want nothing more than to move out to a farm with their best (female) friend. When Jane’s daughter gets divorced and marries someone else, it is seen as both a scandal and the way things now are. I don’t love the ‘poor rich people trapped by convention’ vane, but I have to say, of them, this was one of my favorites. It recognized the variety that existed even within those conventions, and truly painted the choice to go along as just that—a choice—and why it may be good and bad at the same time. It’s longer than Age of Innocence, but I’d definitely suggest this taking the place in the cannon.

Pineapple Street, Jenny Jackson

My mom read this book for her book club – a bunch of retired English teachers, the youngest of whom is probably at least 60 – and was fascinated by it. She sent it to my sister and I. Part of it was that this is a very 2023 book, and my mom made a vocab quiz for her group based on the language in the book. Another is that she said it was like reading a 2000s era Jane Austen, and I have to say I see what she means. It’s the story of three women in New York, two of whom are part of an incredibly wealthy long-time New York family, and one of whom has recently married in to it, as they go through some challenges in their life. It was also like Jane Austen in that sometimes you should just talk to other people and it would help a lot. Now, and I know this is heresy to many, I don’t particularly like Jane Austen and I would never have picked this up on my own. But it was very readable, and actually pretty fun even as it confirmed my idea that there should be confiscatory income and wealth taxes on the rich. (The other way it’s like Jane Austen is that she shows up a lot in Piketty’s Capital in the 21st Century as a site for rent-seeking in the 1800s and I can totally see this being used that way in another hundred years.) Jackson is an entertaining writer, and there were parts on motherhood that were relatable even to someone like me. I can see why it’s been such a hit.

Climate Change as Class War: Building Socialism on a Warming Planet, Matthew T. Huber

My year for reading Marxist climate books, I suppose. There was so much that was interesting and so much that was so, so wrong about this book. I have many of the same complaints about Huber as I do about Mike Davis, in that Marx definitely didn’t think of any intrinsic value of nature in his analysis and no twisting and turning can change that. Added to that is some current context. Imagine writing a book where you complain that Biden of all people didn’t have enough labor solidarity. This came out a month after Biden became the first sitting president to make a public statement in support of unionizing. With book deadlines it probably would have been impossible to revise, but even before then he’d shown some labor bona fides. Anyway, there is some that I liked in this book – climate change is continuing to enrich the incredibly wealthy, and impoverish others. Environmentalism like so much else can only be solved by building popular support by organizing the working class, and unions are the best case to do so. But as someone who has actually worked with BGA and tried to make this sort of connection, his assertions about how it would just be so easy if people would do this, the next steps seemed very naïve. So, liked some of this a lot, but bottom line, it is an incomplete analysis. I’ll try to do a full review of this one because I have a lot to say on this topic.

How to Survive History: How to Outrun a Tyrannosaurus, Escape Pompeii, Get Off the Titanic, and Survive the Rest of History’s Deadliest Catastrophes, Cody Cassidy

Okay, this one was pretty fun. Basically, Cassidy takes us through a simple thought experiment – if we had all the knowledge of modern times, could you survive all sorts of past disasters, threats, and emergencies. And then he uses that as a jumping point to explore different disasters. I like this sort of book, and the framing trick really worked for me. I think I knew the broad strokes of a lot of this, although not the details of lava flow in Pompeii, but still a fun read.  

The Parrot and the Igloo: Climate and the Science of Denial, David Lipsky

It is absolutely amazing how long the conversation on climate change has been happening. I work in this sphere; I give talks where I emphasize that we’ve known about this since Eunice Foote and Svente Arrhenius. And yet, I had no idea of how long the concept of global warming has actually been in the public consciousness. There were articles about the changing weather in the 1950s, there were public testimonies to Congress and stories on the cover of Times and in the Washington Post in the 1960s and 1970s. It makes sense—the plot of Soylent Green is actually based on global warming destroying agriculture and the economy. And yet somehow it has been pushed as a new plot. It is absolutely maddening and mind-boggling the resistance and the massive disinformation and political lobbying campaign against global warming. There’s a lot of parallels that have been well documented before this book between the cigarette lobby and the global warming lobby, but cigarettes only kill the people using them and those around them. Global Warming will potentially destroy the world as we know it. Seems like people should care more.

Before the Coffee Gets Cold, Toshikazu Kawaguchi

This was a charming little book. There is a café where you can travel through time. But you can only go back once; you cannot leave your stool; and you must return before you coffee gets cold. It seems like it wouldn’t be worth it, but there are so many small conversations and exchanges that can take place in that time frame. This was a sweet and charming book. It’s the first in a series, and I won’t say that I had further questions. But as a self-contained world I really liked it.

Feed them Silence, Lee Mandelo

This is a very short book that packs a ton in to its 105 page count. A scientist has devised a way to interface with nonhuman animals, using a neurolink that allows her to experience the life of a wolf, one of the few family groups still in the northern U.S. She gets funding and interest based on both commercial applications and conservation, but the book is also very honest that it is based on an identifiable dream of being a wolf. At the same time her marriage is breaking down and we get a tight 105 pages on science research, commercialization, ethics of animal research, capitalism, colonialsm, and a fully realized story. An impressive feat.

The Black Agenda: Bold Solutions for a Broken System, Anna Gifty Opoku-Agyeman (ed)

My main complaint about this book is that the solutions here weren’t all that bold! The book is a collection of essays by Black authors and activists on how to address racism and the massive racial disparities in the United States. And yet, the solutions proposed are pretty mild, and mostly don’t challenge or dismantle the system. We should address AI bias; we should recognize the biases in medicine and support Black maternal and infant health; climate change harms Black and Brown people and we should recognize housing discrimination. But other than a glancing mention of civil disobedience around voting rights, this was solutions that have been publicized elsewhere and leave the basic frameworks in place. I was underwhelmed.

A City on Mars: Can We Settle Space, Should We Settle Space, and Have We Really Thought This Through?, Kelly and Zach Weinersmith

An incredibly well researched and well thought through tome on what space settlement actually entails. The book is from a couple of certified nerds (Zach Weinersmith writes the Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal comic, and the two of them together also wrote Soonish) who think moon colonies are cool but we’re maybe not there just yet. They go into everything from the incredibly limited knowledge we have about reproduction in space to how completely lacking most non-Earth places are in literally everything we need for life and how full they are of things like cosmic radiation that will kill us, to the challenges of figuring out how international and space law apply. The legal parts were the only parts I quibble with—the current international order is actually pretty new and while I agree space settlement has the possibility to be destabilizing we can’t take current legal and political structures as a given. But in that section as the rest what really stands out is how little we know, how much we have to think all of this through, and how hard space settlement is. Earth at its worst is still probably easier to survive than the best set up Mars colony, and we’d be good to remember that when billionaires pitch that as plan B.

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopedia of Faeries, Heather Fawcett

This was easily one of the best books I read all year. At first it feels like it’ll be a serviceable fantasy novel that you’ll be able to predict. And there are some beats that are easy to see coming. But for the most part, this was a creative story and the character building was fantastic, as new facets are explored throughout the novel. And the world building was wonderful, taking place in a late 1800s Europe that is mostly the same but with a few more women (still incredibly looked down on) in the university and, of course, all the faeries. How you’ll go about addressing the rules of the fae is always interesting to me, and the construct of this universe felt very complete to me. I cannot wait to read the sequel that came out in early 2024.

Alexander Hamilton, Ron Chernow

Oooof, I was reading this book on and off almost the entire year. It is a lot. Memoir is not my favorite genre, nor is biography, and I’m not particularly interested in the Revolutionary War. But I do absolutely love Hamilton, and I do find the creation of a new system of governance awe-inspiring. The fact that Hamilton was able to create so much out of whole cloth, and see the way the pieces of the government needed to work together, really is amazing and we owe so much to the luck of our country’s existence to what he created. This was just real long. You’ve also probably got the gist from the musical, although there are some parts that are different – Lin Manuel Miranda compressed and overlaid some parts of the timeline to make the story hang together in a few short hours, and made the good character choice to avoid getting in to the fact Hamilton was turning in to a bit of a crank as he aged. Still, I’m grateful to this book to making us rethink our national stories and what we want to celebrate in our founding.

At Night We Walk in Circles, Daniel Alarcon

Based in an unnamed Latin American country, Alarcon explores memory, community, rebellion, and the search for meaning. A young man whose life is not where he’d hoped it was takes a position with the two former members of a revolutionary theatre troupe, taking on the road the play that had gotten the original author thrown in jail. In it the story jumps back and forth to the earlier days of the troupe and the time in jail, and the members unravelling in different ways. While nothing in it is actually mystical, it has an absurdist and surreal feel, and the ending was both predictable and confusing at the same time. I did like this book, but not sure I grasped all of it.

Mobility, Lydia Kiesling

Kiesling’s book follows Bunny Glenn through the years, opening with a boring summer spent in Tirana with her father (a State Department employee) and older brother while her mother and younger brother are home in Texas caring for her grandmother. Bunny goes to boarding school; her parents get divorced; Bunny ends up doing marketing for an energy (primarily oil) company in conservative Texas. She wants to commit to this industry and her job, while also recognizing climate change is real and being liberal in a bit of a vague way. The story is told from a distance, which also makes sense as Bunny seems to drift through life at a distance never really feeling attached to any of her decisions but living a decent enough life that takes her through to her first granddaughter bought in a new city that has been put together to escape the worst of climate change. For all of that, it was still a good book with Bunny as a protagonist living a very specific and unique life while somehow having a very relatable life and lack of meaning, and the vague politics presented are a decent way to explain one facet of the current world we’re in.

Friday Black, Nana Kwame Adjei-Brentan

Too much. This collection of short stories takes us from darkly humorous stories of working at a megamall on a Black Friday even more extreme than the current ones to a particularly horrifically violent story of a town (maybe world) that has gotten trapped in a repeating day, but the tone of the latter is even more common than the former. And it’s just too much. It was too much darkness and too much violence and if I weren’t reading for book club I would have put it down two stories in. I know it works for some, but page on page of violence and torture are not what I want and it was too much.

Kill the Farm Boy, Delilah S. Dawson and Kevin Hearne

And this satire of traditional story telling was a welcome respite. A sprite comes to tell a farm boy he’s the chosen one, leading to a series of adventures with a humanoid rabbit bard, a mild-mannered lord trying to become an evil wizard, a secretly reformist wealthy witch, barbarian, talking goat, and oh so-much-more. It played with so many tropes and actually made me laugh out loud in a couple places.

The Store, T. S. Dribling

Oh, hey, it’s the part of the Pulitzer’s where the committee went all in on the Lost Cause. Colonel Miltiades Vaidan fought in the Civil War and got the Klan started in his area after the South lost, but has been stuck in his life ever since. He’s living in a city with carpetbagging Republicans who are in charge of government services, and it’s the eve of Gover Cleveland being elected which everyone is convinced will restore the racial order and the South. The racial politics in the book are actually not as terrible as they could be with that summary Pretty bad for sure! But they could be worse. I expected them to be the sticking point, but the real problem with The Store –which is largely out of print and was really hard to find, actually—is that the story is incredibly confusing and didn’t make any sense as Colonel Vaidan tries to get back at the cousin he blames for his lot in life by working for him (?) and doing a good job (?) and then sending all his cotton down the river (?) in an easily catchable way (?) And then opening a store (?). I did not follow the plot at all. It was all very confusing and I can understand why this one didn’t stand the test of time.

Heart Broke, Chelsea Bieker

This book is like an album where you like all the individual songs, but it gets to be too samey when you listen to it front to back. Bieker’s God Shot was fairly melancholy although had some hope at the end, with a young woman trapped in a cult in the Central Valley and struggling to find a way out. The stories here are similar, with young women and the occasional boy trapped by circumstance and family and an unhealthy love or relationship with varying degrees of independence. How much hope there is at the end depends on the story. I liked a lot of these individually and I really like Bieker’s writing; I did think they started to run together when I read the whole book. I would have liked the stories more in a collection.

The Mysterious Benedict Society, Trenton Lee Stewart

I know we’re late to this series, but I got this for my 12 year old and he loved it –which I thought he would – and begged me to read it, too. It was a lot of fun and definitely a fun and overly complicated twist on the special orphan thee we all love so much. Plus it adds a special dose of how children are better than grown ups because they’re more creative and also can see the truth more clearly. He’s on to the rest, I don’t know that I need to read them all, but this one was a fun ride and I can see why they’re so popular.

Books 2023

Sophie’s World, Jostein Gaarder

Gaarder, a philosophy lecturer, wrote a very creative and engaging novel that is actually a series of philosophy lectures. This is a significant feat, and I was really enjoying this book and its clear description of the early parts of philosophy for most of the book. Unfortunately, though, by the end it went off the rails and the ending of did not make sense and seemed to break away from the points in philosophy he had previously been exploring before as well. Disappointing as the first two-thirds were great.

The Weak Spot, Lucie Elven

This is the type of book I should really like, with an unreliable and out of place narrator and a vague feeling of unease throughout. But despite that, and the good reviews, the book never came together for me. The feeling of unease was there, but never seemed to have anything to explain or justify it, and I never did quite grasp the world the story took place in. It felt thin and unrealized and I ended up disappointed.

So Big, Edna Farber

Pulitzer Prizes in the mid-1920s seemed to gravitate towards stories of people in the mid-western plains, often immigrant communities, and the lives they were building. I really appreciated and enjoyed this one, about a girl who lives a fairly privileged although unstable upbringing in Chicago until her father dies. She has to leave school and takes a job as a teacher in a Dutch community in the prairie, one which for most is deprivation and hard work, which she experiences for several years. But this is not so much a tale of struggle, but one of the beauty and value of trying to live a real and authentic life, to search for your joy and what you want rather than what should be done. It is a story of finding beauty even in the mundane and how this can lead to your own success. A very beautiful story.

This is How You Lose the Time War, Amal el-Mohtar & Max Gladstone

My second time reading this book and I still love it. The book is written from the perspective of two of the best warriors, Red and Blue, on opposite sides of a war that has been ranging across the many different strands and throughout the timeline of various Earths. The warriors come to respect and then love each other, leaving increasingly elaborate letters to each other woven in to the fabric of space and time. The book is absolutely delightful. For one thing, as far as I’m concerned once you’ve accepted that time travel is possible anything is possible so just lean in to that absurdity, you know? And they do that in a huge way, really enjoying and exploring how extreme this could get. El-Mohtar and Gladstone wrote this in a relatively short burst, with a general outline but primarily responding to one another with no time for research and planning. You can really sense the way they are having fun with it and trying to out do one another with their chapters, also perfect for the way Red and Blue are baiting and competing with each other. I love, love, love this book. It is one of my favorites, and can be read it one sitting by anyone looking for how to spend an afternoon.

T. Rex and the Crater of Doom, Walter Alvarez

I picked this up because in a What If? answer long ago Randall Munroe said that he thought that this was one of the best popular science books ever written. And you know what? He’s right. It is very easy to forget that some things that are accepted as truths today are relatively recent discoveries, scientifically speaking. The one that always throws me for a loop is how plate tectonics aren’t only fairly new as a theory, but were actively ridiculed at first for going against scientific orthodoxy. And even in Jurassic Park what caused the extinction of the dinosaurs is debated. The asteroid theory went against the general belief of gradualism in evolution and geology. Walter Alvarez, however, and his father, a geologist and physicist respectively, discovered the layer of iridium between the ‘dinosaurs’ and ‘no dinosaurs’ layers of earth and formulated the asteroid theory. In order to prove it, it took people working together across disciplines from geology, astronomy, physics, chemistry, biology, paleontology, and more. It is a long story of scientific critique and collaboration, but eminently readable, and really great tale for anyone interested in how science works at its best, or just in reading a extremely entertaining scientific mystery.

The Bridge of San Luis Rey, Thornton Wilder

This was an intriguing little book! While it was a novel, I can understand why it has been adapted for stage and screen so often, and it still often had the feel of a play. The book tells the story of five people who were on an old Incan bridge in Peru in the late 1700s when the bridge collapsed. A priest, trying to make sense of this tragedy and God’s place in it, finds out all he can about each person. What is told is the hidden stories of people in a town, their tragedies and hopes, and a story of life in this village. It isn’t about Peru so much as a tale of what people had looked for in their dreams and what had brought them to that point. A poignant portrait.

Early Autumn, Louis Bromfield

I do believe that stories of someone feeling adrift in their world of wealth, privilege, and social constraints is and always will be a staple American books and movies. Early Autumn, winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 1927, fits nicely in this niche. The story of a woman of some wealth who has married in to one of the wealthiest and oldest families in Boston, who lives on “the income of their income.” She feels asea, but is also the one who clearly holds the family together. A black sheep cousin has come home and befriended a boarder on the property, an up and coming successful Irish Catholic immigrant who makes her question her life, while at the same time her daughter is searching for the next steps in her life and some secrets from the family are coming to a head. It was pretty good, but these books from long ago are always feel a bit strange to me as the big moments of drama are things that wouldn’t make anyone bat an eye even 60 years ago now.

The Skeptic’s Guide to the Future: What Yesterday’s Science and Science Fiction Tell Us About the World of Tomorrow, Steven Novella

This is an exploration of what the future might look like, divided in to technologies that are being actively researched and feel like they might be in the near future (like Genetic Manipulation, AI, Quantum Technology), things that are being serious discussed but are still not really real (Fusion, Space Elevators and others), Space Travel tech, and then the real Science Fiction stuff (like Cold Fusion, Faster than Light anything, and Uploading Our Consciousness). This the type of nerdy book I’m in to, and it does a good job diving in to the potential upcoming technologies, but it not a great one. I barely remember the book at this point, and it didn’t really stand apart from others in this general wheelhouse.

Dinosaurs: A Novel, Lydia Millet

Children’s Bible was one of the best books I’ve read in the last few years, so I made sure to pick up Lydia Millet’s newest book when I saw it around. Millet is a fantastic author who is able to pull the reader in from the beginning. The story follows a man who has decided to up and move the Arizona desert and ends up next to a glass house. Being able to see into his neighbors at all times, he finds himself pulled in to their life. The story itself ends up being an exploration of loneliness, connection, and the need to be part of more than just ourselves as an island. It’s a very touching book, and one that I was able absorb in just two nights.

Better Buses, Better Cities: How to Plan, Run, and Win the Fight for Effective Transit, Steven Higashide

This is a relatively short book that packs a lot of information on the reasons to and challenges to improving public transit in the US. Anyone who has tried to get around in the US outside of a major city knows how dismal the state of public transit is, and this is a problem for people who want to limit their car use/carbon output, and for people who can’t afford their cars. The book does a good job of outlining the problems, and just how insanely wired everything about our society – up to and including the justice system—is towards cars, but like most books I want more of the ‘how’. There are things that look like common sense solutions, and more on why these can’t be done and what specifically we have to overcome would be useful to me. But still a good primer for people getting engaged in these issues.

The Secret Chord, Geraldine Brooks

Okay. Look, here’s where I am. I just think I’m done with books about Bible characters that are actually bad and all the torture and terror and humiliation of women that occurred at the time. Brooks is a good writer, and this is a well researched fictionalized deep dive into David, narrated by his prophet, Nathan. And there’s nothing wrong with the book itself, it’s just – I get it, okay. These characters aren’t all good, and being a woman just out and out sucked and it’s all awful. Really going in to detail about what happened to Tamar, or how Bathsehba may have not been entirely willing or appreciative of David’s attentions and his murdering of her husband, drives that home. But I don’t think I need to read about it anymore.

Uncommon Type: Some Stories, Tom Hanks

I watched something recently about the only extant typewriter repair shop and storefront in New York, and how Tom Hanks is a big fan. Honestly, seeing that made everything about this book make a lot more sense. These are a series of relatively sparse short stories, all centered around a typewriter in some way. Some are a bit mystical, some absurd, some straight forward tales of starting over or going through life. There are few recurring characters, but they mostly stand independently. I thought it was fine. Serviceable stories; there were a few that stood out but mostly they just passed the time.

No One is Coming to Save Us, Stephanie Powell Watts

Centered around a Black family in North Carolina, this takes place in a declining town as the kid who got away and made good is back. JJ has returned to his hometown to buy the most prestigious home and lot and fix it up, winning back his high school sweetheart, Ava. She’s in a strained marriage trying to have a baby; her husband is worried about keeping his job; her mother is sick of and not fully wiling to end her marriage; her brother hasn’t spoken to them for ages although her mother regularly has long ‘conversations’ with him. The whole town, mostly Ava, want to know what JJ is doing back, and his return puts the rest of their lives in stark relief. I’m not sure I fully grasped everything about this book, but I am sure the feeling of it is going to stick with me for a long time.

Survival of the Richest: Escape Fantasies of the Tech Billionaires, Douglass Rushkoff

Just like we found that Exxon had been secretly planning for how the worst of climate change would impact their bottom line while fighting fiercely against stopping it, the wealthiest people who could easily put money towards climate solutions are instead funding right-wing fascists fighting against climate policies and paying ridiculous amounts of money for their own climate escapes and climate security. There’s a lot of things that are terrible about this, and mostly Mark O’Connell  covered them better in his wonderful book about dealing with climate hopelessness while raising kids and planning for the future. Rushkoff does a pretty good job with explaining what the wealthy escapists and preppers are doing and why; so much of it has to do with a horrifying level of individualism and disdain for community and humanity. My one complaint is based on his own background Rushkoff is more willing to take it as a given that this is awful rather than exploring why it is so bad and it’s implications they way others have done.

The Body is Not an Apology: The Power of Radical Self-Love, Sonya Renee Taylor

We read this for my book club, after a few people had been to talk by the author. I would say it was fine. Memoirs and self-improvement/self-empowerment aren’t exactly my jam. Other people really enjoyed it and felt affirmed by it. It was a short read, though, and definitely a YMMV situation.

The Immortalists, Chloe Benjamin

This is another type of book that I wasn’t really sure I loved while I was reading it, but I have thought about it a lot since. Four Jewish siblings, children of immigrants, go to see a Roma ‘witch’ they’ve heard about who can predict the future. What she can do is tell you exactly when you are going to die, but nothing more about how or why or what happens in between. We then follow each sibling and how it affects them; how much of their deaths are because they knew the future and went towards it rather than tried to avoid it; whether it gave them freedom or constraints; and how it is tied up with their family and heritage and pain.

What We Owe the Future, William McAskill

Here’s the thing about longtermism: it feels like I should agree with it. I do think that owe something to future generations. I do think that we should plan for the long term. I do believe that we should think about how what we’re doing today can have consequences in the future. But then longtermism takes what should be an easy sell and takes some very weird turns. For one thing, they seem to be under the belief that most people don’t think we should care about the future and we need philosophical contortions to get there and, well, I don’t think that’s true. Even economics and the discount theory don’t think people ignore the future completely. Then there’s the fact that to prove we should care it takes utilitarianism to the extreme. Taking hedonic calculus to the extreme — and trying to calculate it across billions of years — can end up with some very weird conclusions. About whether a life is worth living if you’re miserable, but also if one billion miserable people today are acceptable if there will be trillions of people capable of happiness in the future. And if increasing the total number of people means increasing the total amount of potential happiness in the future, then can’t we justify anything in the current days if we say it could lead to the potential for the greatest happiness overtime? Reading about all of this and the ridiculous hypotheticals and hedonic calculus over time based on nothing makes one realize this can be used to justify anything.

New York 2140, Kim Stanley Robinson

Stanley Robinson is probably one of the most admired climate fiction writers because of Ministry of the Future. New York 2140 similarly looks at what may be possible in the future. It takes place in a New York that has already mostly flooded. People get around by boat and real estate is even harder to come by than it is now, as it can only be higher levels of buildings. Another megastorm and financial crisis lead to the possibility we need to make real economic change and create a positive future. I like novels where nationalizing banks and turning socialist are serious plot points, and I enjoyed the different branches of the story, but I didn’t think it was nearly as solid as Ministry of the Future. The character development and arcs weren’t really there for me and some of the character choices didn’t make that much sense. But there’s still no one else really exploring in a deep way the themes of what changes we need that Stanley Robinson does – even in the nonfiction world – so it’s worth reading.

A History of the Universe in 21 Stars, Giles Sparrow

The problem with doing these round ups at the end of the year is that if I forgot to take notes at the time I sometimes can’t fully remember the book. This one, unfortunately, fall in to that category. It’s an exploration of human knowledge and the solar system based on some of the more important and recognizable stars. I do remember finding it interesting at the time, but not fascinating, and it seems to have faded as I’ve gotten farther away from it.

Laughing Boy, Oliver LaFarge

The Pulitzer’s go through cycles, and they went through one with White author’s writing from the perspective of other cultures. (Something that has returned at other times, unfortunately.) This novel is from a young Navajo man who meets a girl at a ceremony and decides to marry her, even though she is considered an outsider because she had been taken away and sent to one of the Schools. It was a short book that was certainly meant to more truly demonstrate Native culture to Whtie Americans. I can’t speak to how well it did that, but I did find one review that said it wasn’t a real representation of Navajo culture. However, whatever troubles we may see in the representation in the book today, at the time it was criticized for being anti-American for mentioning once that the Indian Boarding Schools weren’t a good thing. So, I guess good for this book for at least challenging the culture and ideas at the time? Yea?

Destroy All Monsters, Ed Brubaker & Sean Phillips

One of the NPR book concierge picks for 2022. This was a great graphic novel of a film noir, hard bitten detective type. It’s actually the last in the Reckless series, and I’m sure I would have benefited from the others, but it also stood on its own. It was a fun fast read for anyone who likes 70s style old school detective stories.

How to Take Over the World: Practical Schemes and Scientific Solutions for the Aspiring Supervillain, Ryan North

This book was sort of funny the way it was written. I liked their charts, and their chat group explanation of evolution. However, for my tastes I think North leaned in a little too hard in to the “practical” part, and not enough in to the “aspiring supervillain” part. I think I was expecting something a bit more like What If? that might take me through the crazy things that would happen if I really did have a lair inside a volcano, rather than something talking me down and asking me to have a boring lair. He basically explains why all our supervillain plans wouldn’t work, which I already know.  I wanted some tips on how to at least get close.

Playlist for the Apocalypse, Rita Dove

I would like to read more poetry, and starting last year have been trying to teach myself more about how to think about and appreciate it – I’ve actually really enjoyed the archives of the New Yorker Poetry podcast. But I still don’t really know how to think about it critically, even in an amateur sense. The details of poetry, including these, didn’t completely stick with me. But the sense of it did, and I do remember appreciating reading this book quite a bit.

Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century, Kim Fu

This was an intriguing, sometimes unsettling, collection of short stories. Some are surreal, some are futuristic, some fun and some disturbing, but it’s a really interesting collection of stories that I enjoyed heartily. The first, someone trying to convince an AI to let her experience a holographic interaction with her mother, was my favorite, but not the only one that stuck with me. Fu creates fully realized characters and brilliant scenes with a few short pages, and that’s what we always ask for in a short story.

Walking on Cowrie Shells, Nana Nkweti

The description that comes up most often when looking up this book was “genre bending” and that is 100% correct. The stories run the gamut from coming of age stories about a nerdy girl finding her place to someone recounting their time stemming a zombie outbreak after supposed mass death from Lake Nyos to the tale of a Mami Wata. It was excellent, though. And while I usually tend towards the science fiction or fantasy stories—and the zombie story was part of what made me want to read it—what surprised me was how much I loved the more slice of life stories. I know nothing about Cameroon, but the stories of a teenage girl finding her place – breaking out of the friends from the immigrant community to find her own people—and a tale at the end of a woman in her 30s going back to the American town she grew up in and the immigrant community and feeling out of place everywhere, and the pressures of the community, were surprisingly relatable. It was a great group of stories and Nkweti shows an amazing breadth of style.

Scarlet Sister Mary, Julia Peterkin

Well, it’s the Pulitzers in the late 20s, so it must be another White person writing about a non-White culture. In this case, Peterkin, who grew up in South Carolina, wrote a few books about the Gullah peoples of South Carolina. While the facts there are uncomfortable, I think this was pretty good? It was actually a very feminist book in the style of something like Sister Carrie or even There Eyes Were Watching God where a woman decides to live her own life, even as everyone else sees her as scandalous or a whore, and has a good life where nothing extra-ordinarily bad happens to her. In this case, Mary gets married to a very handsome player who takes off with another woman. Mary asks the local healer/witch to make her a love charm to get her man back and instead decides to use it for a succession of lovers while having kids she loves and a good life in her community. It’s great! I liked this one. And while yes, Peterkin writes in dialect, it never felt particularly othering or as if we were watching someone alien. And hey, I should stop complaining because we’re just a few years away from Gone with a Wind and a whole series of Lost Cause celebrations.

The Sandman Vol. 1-6, Neil Gaiman

I really like Neil Gaiman, and I finished all the Discworld books last year and was thinking of a new series. Then the Netflix adaptation came out, so I decided to pick this up. I went through the first few paper back collections – there are two more and a finale, I think—and they were, well, a lot. Gaiman’s knowledge of myths and stories is encylopedic, and it’s on full display here, but man, a lot of this was dark. Like, DC Comics after Alan Moore had showed how dark it could get dark. Which I guess is what it is. I was going to continue through for some of the mythology stuff, but it was too much for me and I don’t think I’ll complete it.

Bea Wolf, Zach Weinersmith, Boulet (illustrator)

Ah, another graphic novel but the complete opposite. Zach Weinersmith, of Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal fame, was telling stories to his kids, including classics like Beowulf. And he decided to change it for his 8 year-old daughter, creating a new version of kids and their amazing magical playhouse, and the evil grown up Grendel who wants to squash joy and turn kids into grown ups. In this tale, the nights of partying are forced to come to an end until young Bea Wolf shows up to fight the monster. It is so much fun, and so well done, and I adored it. It works on extra levels if you know Beowulf, but my kids loved it without that context and it works all on its own, too. Strongly recommend this, especially for precocious kids. You should definitely get it. 

A Tree or a Person or a Wall, Matt Bell

Another short story collection, and another book that was just too dark for me. It was dark without redemption and dark without a point, and I don’t like reading about bad things happening to kids. I ended up sort of skimming with my fingers in front of my eyes like I was watching I horror movie for the last few stories because I was close enough to the end I thought I should finish, but I probably should have put it down earlier. May be something for others; definitely wasn’t for me.

We Do This ‘Til We Free Us, Mariame Kaba

Mariame Kaba has been part of the abolition movement for a long time. And now that we’re having real talks about changing policing, we can also talk to those who really do mean defund the police, and who really do want to get rid of prisons. I think that it’s very important to expand our imagination of what is possible and think through what we could really do and mean. And I think it’s important to remember that some people have been involved in limiting policing and moving towards restorative justice in real ways for a long time – this isn’t a new conversation, even though it’s new to many. So I’d recommend this book. That said, Kaba’s short story at the end about a world without police and prisons runs up against the same problem this always does – what do we do with the worst and with people who do something evil? I’m not sure I or others would really approve of her solution, either. And while I don’t think we should treat everyone with systems we need for extremes, I do think the movement needs to grapple with them more. But other than that disappointment, it’s a valuable book to read.

Havana, Mark Kurlansky

I’ve been a fan of Kurlansky for a long time – narrative nonfiction that does a deep dive into a common but secretly fascinating substance is definitely my jam. Havana takes a different tack than some of the others, as it’s much more a memoir and history at the same time. The book takes us through the founding and history of Havana, Kurlansky’s memories of it, and some of the changes that have happened not just since the travel bans from the United States were lifted, but since the loosening of restrictions and need to raise funds after the Soviet Union collapsed. And while obviously some things need to change, capitalism and change always bring their own sadnesses, as well. Kurlansky mentions people being able to make contracts with their choice of national baseball teams slowly eroding the community sense the teams brought before, and the opening up and introduction of new products and new  money always changes the feel of a place. Kurlansky is writing as a frequent visitor, not a resident, so it’s hard to take from the book how things are changing for people who live there. But it is a reminder that there’s so much to every single place, even those that seemed closed off.

Adrift: America in 100 Charts, Scott Galloway

I heard Scott Galloway interviewed on Pitchfork Economics and knew this was my type of book. I bought it and before I read it my husband, who is not nearly as political as me, picked it up and ended up keeping it by his work desk to flip through constantly. His verdict, “I think everyone should look at this book.” It is a simple distillation of so many issues that combined tell a story about where we are today.

Zone One, Colson Whitehead

I haven’t read Underground Railroad yet (it’s on the list!), but I have read Harlem Shuffle and loved it, and Zone One has zombies, so… . I didn’t love it nearly as much. It’s written from the perspective of Mark Spitz, part of a team of sweepers finishing off zombies and rebuilding after the apocalypse. I thought the world building and take on zombies were fine, but the book felt a bit uneven to me with some parts more fully realized than others. I actually thought it was an early novel of Whitehead’s, as it had that feel to me, but it’s right in the middle of his body of work. All in all, fine, but I wasn’t blown away.

The Buddha in the Attic, Julie Otsuka

This slim volume is a creative exploration of the lives of Japanese brides arranged to be married to Japanese immigrants in the US, primarily coming to the states in the 20s, and following their lives up to the internments at the start of WWII. I was afraid this book would be too sad and difficult – at this point in my life I am very aware of suffering, thank you very much – but the book was not all pain and really explored the variety of experiences these women had. Its unique presentation helped, and kept me intrigued, as the book takes the first person plural or third person plural the whole time, and describes several different experiences that also blend together weaving a full breadth of experiences that nonetheless have similarities and shared lives. It was expertly done and a vivid and beautiful book.

The Year 1000: What Life Was Like at the Turn of the First Millennium, An Englishman’s World, Robert Lacey

I loved this. I’ve explained before that far more than the tales of harrowing experiences and suffering, I’m interested in how people go through their lives, almost no matter what. There are so many ways society and politics and economics can be! This was right up my alley, then, and talks about every aspect of life in England in the year 1000, whether what people could wear, what you might eat, how you’d travel, and how marriage worked. And Lacey is a very entertaining writer; the book is very informative and academic but not dry at all. I learned a lot.

Cult Classic, Sloan Crossley

Uggggh. I enjoyed this book so much until the twist at the end. Sorry for SPOILERS but there’s a vein of storytelling that seems to think that any creepy, possessive, psychologically abusive, distrusting, behavior by a guy is justified because of True Love and might even make the woman a better person and that is just not true. I really thought this might have escaped it and the ending would take it in the opposite direction, but Nope. Dislike.

How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe, Charles Yu

I love the premise of this book – bored 20 something is floating through life as a time repair person of sorts when a handbook falls in to his life and things take a timey wimey shift. Really seems like my type of thing. But somehow it just never hung entirely together for me. Something felt too thin or not fully realized and it just didn’t hit all the notes. It seems like there’s something there, but it didn’t show up for me.

The Candy House, Jennifer Egan

This is a sequel of sorts to one of my favorite books ever, Welcome to the Goon Squad. At least it takes place in the same universe and with some of the same characters even if it doesn’t really connect to the previous story. Goon Squad was more creative, but Candy House is still unique and wonderfully written. In a very near future where tech can literally store and project your memories in the cloud, there are also people who have decided to disappear and remove themselves entirely, sometimes even hiring someone else to pretend to create memories and social media for them so they can remove themselves. This sounds like the set up for dystopia, but it’s really just the background for life for the characters trying their hardest to get through the world, but with diversions like an entire chapter written as the field notes and instruction manual for a spy with memory implants, in between just the memory of summers by the pool with a selfish and inconsistent father. 

There There, Tommy Orange

Not a Pulitzer winner, but a nominee back in 2019 that maybe should have won. To be fair, I haven’t read The Overstory yet, but this book was excellent. Several Native Americans, with varying degrees of attachment to their heritage and tribe, have their lives intersect in different ways culminating in an armed robbery and shootout at a huge and important powwow. And in between are explorations of identity, heritage, colonialism, art, belonging, and family. I know that sounds like it could be sort of trite or sappy, but it’s not—it’s excellent and I’ll be thinking about it for a while.

The Good Earth, Pearl Buck

And here we’re back to White Westerners writing about other cultures. Pearl S. Buck lived most of her life in China and said she couldn’t write about anything else, but she wrote about Chinese peasants, not, you know, White missionaries like her and her family. I know this is one of the Pulitzer winners that’s stuck around for some reason, but I found the way she wrote about Wang Fun, the peasant who manages to raise himself to a wealthy landowner, really othering and dehumanizing, as was the way she approached almost every other character. That being said, there were flashes of interesting insight and if a Chinese author wanted to rewrite this from his wife, O-Lan’s, perspective I would read the heck out of that book.

Skeleton Hill, Peter Lovesey

Picked this up at a used book store because it sounded interesting. It was fine, but it’s a later book in a series so there wasn’t a lot of character build up to hang some of the interactions on. That being said, I think I caught up alright and it was a pretty serviceable British mystery. There’s a hard bitten detective with a by-the-rules but grudgingly indulgent boss, a lot of baggage, who has a problem with these new kids today but appreciates how they help him get things done. The plot can be filled in around all that.

Infinity Gate, M. R. Carey

Okay, this book was excellent. I loved its creative take on the questions of sentience; I loved its world building; I loved the propulsive writing. The Infinity Gate itself – which uses quantum probability to explore the infinity of universes –was creative and smart and is still enough of a mystery that I didn’t have to immediately dismiss anything that involves FTL travel. There were several strands of plot that come together expertly and I inhaled this book. My only problem with it is that it’s the first of a series, the next one won’t be out until 2024, and this isn’t a book that stands on its own. It just sort of stops, rather than ends, and I would like to read what happens next now, please and thank you.

Drunk on All Your Strange New Worlds, Eddie Robson

This was another fun one! An alien culture has made contact, but they only communicate telepathically. Only a few humans have the capability to do so as well and serve as translators. But the act of doing so makes them feel groggy and, well, drunk, at some point. Lydia has recently become the translator for the cultural ambassador when he turns up murdered. This ends up being a sci-fi book, a cli-fi book, and a murder mystery that attacks anti-immigrant sentiment. But even with touching on serious themes, it’s done so lightly. They’re basically snuck in to what is, at its heart, a really fun sci-fi murder mystery with a bumbling, sympathetic protagonist.

Heavy: An American Memoir, Kiese Laymon

I’ve probably mentioned before that memoirs are really not my cup of tea, but the book club voted on this one so what can you do? This book is written from a Black man who talks about his painful childhood – and in to adult life – in Mississippi. It covers abuse –sexual, physical, and emotional—racism,  poverty, his struggles with weight, his brilliant mother who also abused him and who’s life is a mess. It’s a lot. Others in my group loved it. I always feel so, I don’t know, creepy and voyeuristic when I’m reading about a real life like that for entertainment, even if the person wrote it themselves. I’ll put this down in the “not written for me” category, I suppose.

Once Upon a Space-Time and A Total Waste of Space-Time, Jeffrey Brown

My kids love graphic novels, and my son picked up these two books about a group of kids who get to be part of a elite group of children from several planets exploring the universe and different realities. It is really funny, it is full of very nerdy jokes, and it primes kids for some good tropes by including a grumpy robot. Very good for nerdy middle grade kids who like science, bad jokes, and cats.

The Value of a Whale: On the Illusion of Green Capitalism, Adrienne Buller

I really expected this book to have a more philosophical bent, along the lines of how we really do think about the value of a while. Instead it’s a critique of almost all economic-focused solutions to climate change or the conservation movement. Primarily market based criticisms, but also ones that look at finance and divestment. I sympathize with a lot of the critiques, and think offsets are useless at best and a harmful scam at worst. And carbon markets are useless and another way of moving money around. But even for my cynicism, I thought this book was a bit simplistic and ignored the way some economic critiques and actions are meant to be part of a wider movement and add to or build on other policy advocacy, not stand on their own. Plus, I felt a little duped by the title and wanted more philosophy and fewer bank statements.

Vacationland, John Hodgman

A bit of a memoir from John Hodgman of the time after writing his fantastic fake trivia books, and about he and his wife moving part time to his childhood home in New Hampshire and his wife’s childhood vacation town in Maine. I like reading Hodgman, and I appreciate how much he still finds his success surreal and recognizes his luck in the world. This was a good collection of essays on his thoughts on a number of things (mostly but not exclusively New England related), and with his delightful dry humor.

How to Stop Time, Matt Haig

My husband is a huge softy, and he has decided he loves Matt Haig. I like him alright. This one follows a man who ages extremely slowly, around 1/10th the rate of normal humans. And he’s not the only one, although it’s largely a secret. Partly because for a lot of human history it just wasn’t believed and people who had his condition were likely to get burned for witchcraft; partly because for the last 100 years or so they’ve been trying to keep themselves secret. There were some silly plot points, and I sort of saw the main twists coming, but mostly it was a good book to read. And I do have to say that I appreciate Haig’s earnestness and love of humanity and goodness, even if it’s not always for me. Most books by an immortal guy would have had their main character drowning his loneliness in fulfilling their fantasies and sleeping with hundreds of women over the centuries, but he keeps his loyal and in love and still connected to humans even though he has to live apart. He realizes characters, and does appreciate the nicer things in life, and sometimes that’s really nice to read.

Convenience Store Woman, Sayaka Murata

Another book club pick, and one that split the group. I really liked this book! I do think that it’s a bit oversold by a lot of reviews that say that it’s odd or quirky or has surprising twists, when it’s a pretty straightforward book. But I liked the main character, and I really appreciated what it said about people being themselves and the criticism of how people are forced in to different roles. The central message is really how many would rather see their friend or family following a script they know and miserable then doing their own thing and being happy, and how it’s important to still be true to ourselves despite that.

Old Gods, New Enigmas: Marx’s Lost Theory, Mike Davis

I dunno, man. Listen, I love The Communist Manifesto, and I appreciate Marx. I have a heavily marked up copy of Ideology on my bookshelf; I hate capitalism. But there’s a need for a certain strain of intellectual, Marxist, leftists to try to apply his (heavily modernist, heavily materialistic, heavily anthropocentric, written 150 years ago) writings to everything today and I think it’s okay to say that he didn’t think of everything. In particular, the need to pretend that Marx himself has a lot to teach the environmental movement, which is what this book tries to do, rather than think through how to apply Marxist analysis to the environmental movement or grapple with whether a modernist philosophy that was primarily concerned with liberating workers and thought industrialization was a step on that process is what we need for the current moment. Again, mad love to Marx, just, I don’t see the point or think it’s honest to pretend he was thinking of the non-human environment for even a second.

Utopia for Realists: How We Can Build the Ideal World, Rutger Bregman

Humankind is one of my favorite books I’ve read in the last few years, so I had to pick up Utopia for Realists. I so appreciate Bregman, and especially his holding on to the fact that things should be better. We’re in the richest time of human history, and can feed and house and give medicine to everyone, and somehow we don’t. We should all be gobsmacked by that. Bregman holds on to that and looks to policies we could enact now that would make the world better.

Mercury Rising, R. W. W. Greene

Some people get in to steampunk, but super futuristic Atomic Age science fiction is always catnip to me. That’s what we have here, with a world where space exploration and space settlements were much more advanced in the 50s and 60s, and there’s an alien civilization from Mercury that has threatened and occasionally attacked us and so far we’ve held at bay. That is the background against which a young Black man in New York whose father died in the space wars, and who has a good heart but occasionally gets in to trouble, ends up killing a shapeshifting alien at his friend’s enlistment party, gets caught with a bunch of contraband in his car (from the alien), enlists to stay out of jail, and ends up learning the secret that there are at least two alien civilizations at war that both want Earth and one of them used to be on the used up planet of Venus and currently keep numerous Earthlings there prisoners. As you might be able to tell from that brief summary the plot of this book is A Lot and I’m not sure it all entirely hangs together. The book is also the first in a series, but I’m afraid I was too overwhelmed by the plot—and too underwhelmed by the characters—to go further. It’s a shame; I’d had high hopes.

Turn Right at Machu Pichu: Rediscovering the Lost City One Step at a Time, Mark Adams

I loved Meet Me in Atlantis is one of my favorite books. Mark Adams undertakes the search for Atlantis with such an open and skeptical mind at the same time. So I’ve been eager to read others. This one covers his trek to Machu Pichu, a consideration of the many theories on how many other cities there are, and why and how the amazing cities of the Incas were even built with the technology they had. The book is part hiking travelogue by an aging explorer, a la Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods, and part real discussion of the amazing world that exists hidden in the rainforest. The civilizations that were built in the Americas are astonishing, and we know so little thanks to how much was deliberately destroyed, and how much is taken over quickly by the environment – a sphinx in the desert is going to last far longer than an entire city in the Amazon. It was a really fun and enlightening read by an entertaining story teller, and definitely put Machu Pichu higher on my dream travel list.

Years of Grace, Margaret Ayer Barnes

This is sort of a much, much longer – and less sheltered – version of Age of Innocence. Or a version of Early Autumn where we meet the protagonist far earlier. Years of Grace follows the life of Jane, a young debutante in Chicago. She has a group of friends, but only one who she is particularly close to—the others are more frivolous and she has quite shallow relationships. She has a young courtship with a young man, Andre, the son of European parents and with a dream of being an artist. For all her depth and yearning – she argues with her parents to go away to Bryn Mawr for a few years – she ends up married to rather drab and boring wealthy man from Boston; raises children; contemplates an affair but realizes that it is not the life she wants and she loves her children; lives a conventional by all accounts life while not entirely buying in to it. The reason it’s less sheltered than Age of Innocence is because there are families where the woman or the man have affairs and everyone knows it; she talks of her sister-in-law – and later daughter—who have never had a beau and want nothing more than to move out to a farm with their best (female) friend. When Jane’s daughter gets divorced and marries someone else, it is seen as both a scandal and the way things now are. I don’t love the ‘poor rich people trapped by convention’ vane, but I have to say, of them, this was one of my favorites. It recognized the variety that existed even within those conventions, and truly painted the choice to go along as just that—a choice—and why it may be good and bad at the same time. It’s longer than Age of Innocence, but I’d definitely suggest this taking the place in the cannon.

Pineapple Street, Jenny Jackson

My mom read this book for her book club – a bunch of retired English teachers, the youngest of whom is probably at least 60 – and was fascinated by it. She sent it to my sister and I. Part of it was that this is a very 2023 book, and my mom made a vocab quiz for her group based on the language in the book. Another is that she said it was like reading a 2000s era Jane Austen, and I have to say I see what she means. It’s the story of three women in New York, two of whom are part of an incredibly wealthy long-time New York family, and one of whom has recently married in to it, as they go through some challenges in their life. It was also like Jane Austen in that sometimes you should just talk to other people and it would help a lot. Now, and I know this is heresy to many, I don’t particularly like Jane Austen and I would never have picked this up on my own. But it was very readable, and actually pretty fun even as it confirmed my idea that there should be confiscatory income and wealth taxes on the rich. (The other way it’s like Jane Austen is that she shows up a lot in Piketty’s Capital in the 21st Century as a site for rent-seeking in the 1800s and I can totally see this being used that way in another hundred years.) Jackson is an entertaining writer, and there were parts on motherhood that were relatable even to someone like me. I can see why it’s been such a hit.

Climate Change as Class War: Building Socialism on a Warming Planet, Matthew T. Huber

My year for reading Marxist climate books, I suppose. There was so much that was interesting and so much that was so, so wrong about this book. I have many of the same complaints about Huber as I do about Mike Davis, in that Marx definitely didn’t think of any intrinsic value of nature in his analysis and no twisting and turning can change that. Added to that is some current context. Imagine writing a book where you complain that Biden of all people didn’t have enough labor solidarity. This came out a month after Biden became the first sitting president to make a public statement in support of unionizing. With book deadlines it probably would have been impossible to revise, but even before then he’d shown some labor bona fides. Anyway, there is some that I liked in this book – climate change is continuing to enrich the incredibly wealthy, and impoverish others. Environmentalism like so much else can only be solved by building popular support by organizing the working class, and unions are the best case to do so. But as someone who has actually worked with BGA and tried to make this sort of connection, his assertions about how it would just be so easy if people would do this, the next steps seemed very naïve. So, liked some of this a lot, but bottom line, it is an incomplete analysis. I’ll try to do a full review of this one because I have a lot to say on this topic.

How to Survive History: How to Outrun a Tyrannosaurus, Escape Pompeii, Get Off the Titanic, and Survive the Rest of History’s Deadliest Catastrophes, Cody Cassidy

Okay, this one was pretty fun. Basically, Cassidy takes us through a simple thought experiment – if we had all the knowledge of modern times, could you survive all sorts of past disasters, threats, and emergencies. And then he uses that as a jumping point to explore different disasters. I like this sort of book, and the framing trick really worked for me. I think I knew the broad strokes of a lot of this, although not the details of lava flow in Pompeii, but still a fun read.  

The Parrot and the Igloo: Climate and the Science of Denial, David Lipsky

It is absolutely amazing how long the conversation on climate change has been happening. I work in this sphere; I give talks where I emphasize that we’ve known about this since Eunice Foote and Svente Arrhenius. And yet, I had no idea of how long the concept of global warming has actually been in the public consciousness. There were articles about the changing weather in the 1950s, there were public testimonies to Congress and stories on the cover of Times and in the Washington Post in the 1960s and 1970s. It makes sense—the plot of Soylent Green is actually based on global warming destroying agriculture and the economy. And yet somehow it has been pushed as a new plot. It is absolutely maddening and mind-boggling the resistance and the massive disinformation and political lobbying campaign against global warming. There’s a lot of parallels that have been well documented before this book between the cigarette lobby and the global warming lobby, but cigarettes only kill the people using them and those around them. Global Warming will potentially destroy the world as we know it. Seems like people should care more.

Before the Coffee Gets Cold, Toshikazu Kawaguchi

This was a charming little book. There is a café where you can travel through time. But you can only go back once; you cannot leave your stool; and you must return before you coffee gets cold. It seems like it wouldn’t be worth it, but there are so many small conversations and exchanges that can take place in that time frame. This was a sweet and charming book. It’s the first in a series, and I won’t say that I had further questions. But as a self-contained world I really liked it.

Feed them Silence, Lee Mandelo

This is a very short book that packs a ton in to its 105 page count. A scientist has devised a way to interface with nonhuman animals, using a neurolink that allows her to experience the life of a wolf, one of the few family groups still in the northern U.S. She gets funding and interest based on both commercial applications and conservation, but the book is also very honest that it is based on an identifiable dream of being a wolf. At the same time her marriage is breaking down and we get a tight 105 pages on science research, commercialization, ethics of animal research, capitalism, colonialsm, and a fully realized story. An impressive feat.

The Black Agenda: Bold Solutions for a Broken System, Anna Gifty Opoku-Agyeman (ed)

My main complaint about this book is that the solutions here weren’t all that bold! The book is a collection of essays by Black authors and activists on how to address racism and the massive racial disparities in the United States. And yet, the solutions proposed are pretty mild, and mostly don’t challenge or dismantle the system. We should address AI bias; we should recognize the biases in medicine and support Black maternal and infant health; climate change harms Black and Brown people and we should recognize housing discrimination. But other than a glancing mention of civil disobedience around voting rights, this was solutions that have been publicized elsewhere and leave the basic frameworks in place. I was underwhelmed.

A City on Mars: Can We Settle Space, Should We Settle Space, and Have We Really Thought This Through?, Kelly and Zach Weinersmith

An incredibly well researched and well thought through tome on what space settlement actually entails. The book is from a couple of certified nerds (Zach Weinersmith writes the Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal comic, and the two of them together also wrote Soonish) who think moon colonies are cool but we’re maybe not there just yet. They go into everything from the incredibly limited knowledge we have about reproduction in space to how completely lacking most non-Earth places are in literally everything we need for life and how full they are of things like cosmic radiation that will kill us, to the challenges of figuring out how international and space law apply. The legal parts were the only parts I quibble with—the current international order is actually pretty new and while I agree space settlement has the possibility to be destabilizing we can’t take current legal and political structures as a given. But in that section as the rest what really stands out is how little we know, how much we have to think all of this through, and how hard space settlement is. Earth at its worst is still probably easier to survive than the best set up Mars colony, and we’d be good to remember that when billionaires pitch that as plan B.

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopedia of Faeries, Heather Fawcett

This was easily one of the best books I read all year. At first it feels like it’ll be a serviceable fantasy novel that you’ll be able to predict. And there are some beats that are easy to see coming. But for the most part, this was a creative story and the character building was fantastic, as new facets are explored throughout the novel. And the world building was wonderful, taking place in a late 1800s Europe that is mostly the same but with a few more women (still incredibly looked down on) in the university and, of course, all the faeries. How you’ll go about addressing the rules of the fae is always interesting to me, and the construct of this universe felt very complete to me. I cannot wait to read the sequel that came out in early 2024.

Alexander Hamilton, Ron Chernow

Oooof, I was reading this book on and off almost the entire year. It is a lot. Memoir is not my favorite genre, nor is biography, and I’m not particularly interested in the Revolutionary War. But I do absolutely love Hamilton, and I do find the creation of a new system of governance awe-inspiring. The fact that Hamilton was able to create so much out of whole cloth, and see the way the pieces of the government needed to work together, really is amazing and we owe so much to the luck of our country’s existence to what he created. This was just real long. You’ve also probably got the gist from the musical, although there are some parts that are different – Lin Manuel Miranda compressed and overlaid some parts of the timeline to make the story hang together in a few short hours, and made the good character choice to avoid getting in to the fact Hamilton was turning in to a bit of a crank as he aged. Still, I’m grateful to this book to making us rethink our national stories and what we want to celebrate in our founding.

At Night We Walk in Circles, Daniel Alarcon

Based in an unnamed Latin American country, Alarcon explores memory, community, rebellion, and the search for meaning. A young man whose life is not where he’d hoped it was takes a position with the two former members of a revolutionary theatre troupe, taking on the road the play that had gotten the original author thrown in jail. In it the story jumps back and forth to the earlier days of the troupe and the time in jail, and the members unravelling in different ways. While nothing in it is actually mystical, it has an absurdist and surreal feel, and the ending was both predictable and confusing at the same time. I did like this book, but not sure I grasped all of it.

Mobility, Lydia Kiesling

Kiesling’s book follows Bunny Glenn through the years, opening with a boring summer spent in Tirana with her father (a State Department employee) and older brother while her mother and younger brother are home in Texas caring for her grandmother. Bunny goes to boarding school; her parents get divorced; Bunny ends up doing marketing for an energy (primarily oil) company in conservative Texas. She wants to commit to this industry and her job, while also recognizing climate change is real and being liberal in a bit of a vague way. The story is told from a distance, which also makes sense as Bunny seems to drift through life at a distance never really feeling attached to any of her decisions but living a decent enough life that takes her through to her first granddaughter bought in a new city that has been put together to escape the worst of climate change. For all of that, it was still a good book with Bunny as a protagonist living a very specific and unique life while somehow having a very relatable life and lack of meaning, and the vague politics presented are a decent way to explain one facet of the current world we’re in.

Friday Black, Nana Kwame Adjei-Brentan

Too much. This collection of short stories takes us from darkly humorous stories of working at a megamall on a Black Friday even more extreme than the current ones to a particularly horrifically violent story of a town (maybe world) that has gotten trapped in a repeating day, but the tone of the latter is even more common than the former. And it’s just too much. It was too much darkness and too much violence and if I weren’t reading for book club I would have put it down two stories in. I know it works for some, but page on page of violence and torture are not what I want and it was too much.

Kill the Farm Boy, Delilah S. Dawson and Kevin Hearne

And this satire of traditional story telling was a welcome respite. A sprite comes to tell a farm boy he’s the chosen one, leading to a series of adventures with a humanoid rabbit bard, a mild-mannered lord trying to become an evil wizard, a secretly reformist wealthy witch, barbarian, talking goat, and oh so-much-more. It played with so many tropes and actually made me laugh out loud in a couple places.

The Store, T. S. Dribling

Oh, hey, it’s the part of the Pulitzer’s where the committee went all in on the Lost Cause. Colonel Miltiades Vaidan fought in the Civil War and got the Klan started in his area after the South lost, but has been stuck in his life ever since. He’s living in a city with carpetbagging Republicans who are in charge of government services, and it’s the eve of Gover Cleveland being elected which everyone is convinced will restore the racial order and the South. The racial politics in the book are actually not as terrible as they could be with that summary Pretty bad for sure! But they could be worse. I expected them to be the sticking point, but the real problem with The Store –which is largely out of print and was really hard to find, actually—is that the story is incredibly confusing and didn’t make any sense as Colonel Vaidan tries to get back at the cousin he blames for his lot in life by working for him (?) and doing a good job (?) and then sending all his cotton down the river (?) in an easily catchable way (?) And then opening a store (?). I did not follow the plot at all. It was all very confusing and I can understand why this one didn’t stand the test of time.

Heart Broke, Chelsea Bieker

This book is like an album where you like all the individual songs, but it gets to be too samey when you listen to it front to back. Bieker’s God Shot was fairly melancholy although had some hope at the end, with a young woman trapped in a cult in the Central Valley and struggling to find a way out. The stories here are similar, with young women and the occasional boy trapped by circumstance and family and an unhealthy love or relationship with varying degrees of independence. How much hope there is at the end depends on the story. I liked a lot of these individually and I really like Bieker’s writing; I did think they started to run together when I read the whole book. I would have liked the stories more in a collection.

The Mysterious Benedict Society, Trenton Lee Stewart

I know we’re late to this series, but I got this for my 12 year old and he loved it –which I thought he would – and begged me to read it, too. It was a lot of fun and definitely a fun and overly complicated twist on the special orphan thee we all love so much. Plus it adds a special dose of how children are better than grown ups because they’re more creative and also can see the truth more clearly. He’s on to the rest, I don’t know that I need to read them all, but this one was a fun ride and I can see why they’re so popular.

Feed Them Silence

Feed Them Silence, Lee Mandelo

It’s some time in the near future, and an ambitious scientist, Sean, is on the verge of living out her dream. She’s finally found funding and a team to work on her project, a neural link with a wild wolf to really truly understand what they feel, think, and experience, their social structure and struggles. She’s painted this as key to understanding how they adapt to different conditions, and the wolf chosen for the experience is an adolescent female in a band that has only produced one pup in the past years as farmlands destroy their habitats and climate change make the seasons harder. As the experiment goes forward, though, Sean struggles to stay in control as her marriage falls apart, her experiences with the wolf start to get away with her, and the private funding she had to secure seems to have different aims for the project.

Let me just say that it is astounding what Lee Mandelo has been able to pack into a few short pages. The book is really a novella, clocking in at just over 100 pages. I usually find this an awkward length for a book. It’s longer than a short story, so I want more than a sketch, I want to know who I’m reading about and what their world is. But it’s still pretty short, so that’s not a lot of pages to truly paint a picture and tell a story. I find I often end up wanting more with a super short book like this. Not here, though. The world we were in felt fully realized. The different threads of the story were so well explored with such a short time. I understood Sean and her wife, Riya, and their troubles, understood the disintegrating marriage. I knew what challenges the wolves were facing and felt that I also experienced their world. I got the challenges with the funder, and of Sean trying to hold it together. The other characters were barely touched on but it was enough to get a sense of the team. This was easy to read but really quite dense when you see what it included. Kudos to Mandelo for that, truly.

The story itself unfolds in both expected and unexpected directions. As someone else in my book group put it, you knew vaguely where the story had to go, but it surprised with how it got there. And the story is original enough, exploring the mind of a wolf and letting the edges of wolf experience bleed in to real life, that one didn’t know exactly what was going to happen next. It keeps the reader on edge even more with the characters being ethically ambiguous. In a tight 112 pages that touches on gender relations, capitalism, academia, colonialization, othering, conservation, and climate change no character is the hero and no character is the villain. The story avoids broad brushes and easy redemption and let’s poor choices and good intentions hang uncomfortably, but never overshadowing the story.

In the end, it’s hard to sum up the book, and there are plenty of questions of what the book truly meant. But it provided a lot of fodder for my book club, it kept me involved the whole time, and it will definitely stick with me for a long while. An impressive piece of work.

Infinity Gate

Infinity Gate, M.R. Carey

In an Earth a little ways in the future from ours, or perhaps in a slightly parallel Earth to ours, physicist Hadiz Tambuwal is in a massive, well-funded campus in Lagos with other scientists trying to figure out how to keep the civilization going. Over the first few chapters of the book it becomes clear that this project isn’t going nearly quickly enough, as the air in Lagos becomes practically unbearable and environmental catastrophes beget political catastrophes and things crumble around them. As the civic infrastructure slowly breaks down, Tambuwal moves in to the facility to continue her work and soon becomes isolated there as well with only a very advanced – and yet purposely limited – AI to keep her company and help with her work.

Tambuwal’s work has been on dark energy and dark matter –what are they and why do they exist? And is there any way answering those questions can help with the energy needs on Earth?* Along the way she accidentally discovers the creation of a quantum field that can transport objects to a different universe. You see, the multiverse that has been theorized to occur with every time a quantum particle decides where to end up is true. And there are infinite parallel universes, with more being created every nanosecond.

However, she is not the first person to have discovered the multiverse. There are several other universes who have, and who have come together in the Pandominium. The Pandominium has nearly infinite universes that are part of it, with Earths where intelligent species evolved from several different animal lineages—ape, bear, otter, rabbit, cats, dogs, and almost everything else. It also has decided to track jumps between universes very carefully, and protect this confederacy of universes with the Cielo and a very involved bureaucracy.

These two paragraphs are a quick overview that don’t even begin to do justice to the world building that has gone in to this novel. The world of the campus that slowly empties out as Tambuwal works on her discovery; a parallel Lagos and the desperate con man she finds there; a world of rabbits; the absolutely infinite complexity of the infinite multiverse – all of these are so richly realized, and could make stand alone stories on their own. The creativity in this book is truly inspiring.

As is the discussion of what sentience and intelligence really means. See, the Pandominium – used to more or less ruling the multiverse – finds a similar confederacy, this one made entirely of machine intelligences. The Pandominium ends up stumbling in to war with an enemy vastly superior to it, an enemy that is almost indifferent to it. However, the war leads to a fear of the AIs that have become absolutely essential to life in advanced society and questions of how to exist without them. There is an incredibly interesting discussion in one section of what actually creates sentience, with the machine intelligence presenting the argument that they couldn’t actually determine if a biological entity could have sentience, and how one really proves existence and consiousness other than just looking at outputs and whether something acts alive.

These different threads of ideas, and the different storylines, start to come together at the end. However, this is where my one complaint about the book comes in. While each of the storylines could almost exist as a story on its own, the book itself does not have a finishing point. It has a stopping point. And yes, there is another book on the horizon. But not only is there no resolution to any of the stories once they intersect; not only does it end on a total cliffhanger; but it ends in an unsatisfying cliffhanger. You see, from the beginning the book has been written from the perspective of an omniscient narrator, who says that the individuals we follow in this book were crucial to its creation. It also says at the very beginning of the book it was the destroyer of the Pandominium and that we will hear its story. And yet, at the end of the book, we are not any closer to learning this story – what we have been told is the actual story we’re reading—then we were at the beginning.

I can understand wanting to leave audiences wanting more. And yes, it is clear throughout that this is meant to be part of a longer series. But I also feel strongly that even in a tied together trilogy or series each installment should exist as a standalone piece on its own. Which meant I was incredibly frustrated and disappointed by the ending.

However, I have to admit that I will still 100% read the next book, even though it will probably also stop without actually ending. And I will also recommend it even though I do not like books that do not have any sort of resolution. Because like I said, the world building and the creativity in this story is amazing. The writing is enthralling, and I kept reading obsessively. Part of the reason I’m irritated about the resolution is because I also wanted to keep reading the story. So your mileage on endings may vary, but this book is worth it for the journey and the creativity, even if you don’t get to know the whole plot.

*Just a note that this is not a need that we have to address the climate crisis. We actually have the technology to generate all of the renewable energy we need. The technological questions are entirely about storage and transmission; the bigger questions are political will and making people accept some bumps in the road as we transition.^

^If you want to know the technological fixes we need: energy storage and transmission; long-distance transportation (related to that first one); decarbonizing cement and steel production.

Books of 2022

Books of 2022

Listen. 2022 did something to me. I do not know why. I was able to read and be productive in 2020 (a very stressful year) and in 2021 (with at-home schooling), but in 2022 I lost all ability to focus. Work and writing postcards/texting voters and either falling asleep at 10 or staying up until 2 playing Pokemon Snap or Civ VI was how I made it through the year. Thinking at the end of the work day was just not an option. And I don’t think it helped that the whole family caught Covid in there somewhere. It wasn’t as bad as many people have had it, but it took a solid month before I didn’t feel like collapsing after a few hours of activity. So I didn’t *quite* meet my reading goals from last year. And wrote even less, which I didn’t think was possible. But I did get to 75 books! And even reviewed a few of them. You’ll find them here.

First Cosmic Velocity, Zach Powers

An alternate history where the Soviet Union has been the first to launch humans into orbit but hasn’t *quite* mastered bringing them down and so relies on sets of identical twins to fool the public. The book jacket and description sound like it’s going to be a dark satire, but it is actually quite bleak and poignant. The book focuses in particular on a set of Ukrainian twins who lived through the Holodomor so this might be a good book to hand people who seem inclined to think Russia would never act in bad faith towards Ukraine and just engage in genocide out of spite.

Raising Steam, Terry Pratchett

This was the year I finished the Discworld series, one I’ve spent so much time with. This is the second to the last book of the series, and the final one in Ankh-Mopork. I had enjoyed the Moist von Lipwig books, bringing Ankh-Mopork into the industrial era, but this one feels a bit overstuffed. In this one the railroads have come, and Lipwig is, of course, tapped with bringing them to fruition. And with that we have international intrigue, and dwarves, and golems, and goblins, and gender politics, and it’s just a lot. I suppose it’s likely Pratchett knew he was nearing the end and there were a lot of things to weave together. The book was still fun, just a bit overstuffed.

Big Bang: The Origins of the Universe, Simon Singh

This is one of the best science-for-the-layperson books I have read, and I read a lot of them. Simon Singh sets out to explain not just the Big Bang theory, which he does admirably, but the steps that needed to happen in science to get to the point where we could theorize it, the challenges it faced in gaining acceptance, and why it is widely supported as the likely origin of the universe today. And it’s really readable; I flew through the 500 pages in just a few days. I highly recommend it for anyone who wants to know more about cosmology or the history of science.

The Humans, Matt Haig

I was definitely tricked. The back of the book and my husband’s review both suggested that this was a humorous alien look at humanity a la Douglas Adams or other British humor. But turns out it’s a romantic story on the importance of love and the beauty of humanity. I suppose it’s pretty good if you like that sort of thing, just know what you’re getting into.

After the Fall: Being America in the World We’ve Made, Ben Rhodes

Okay, this book is one I’m still thinking about a full year later. Rhodes is a former speechwriter and key advisor for Obama and definitely a technocrat who thought, as so many of us did, that things were really going to keep getting better. We’d turned some sort of a corner as humanity and now we’re here. He grapples with a lot of the failures of that line in this book and it is really insightful and honest and terrifying in some parts, acknowledging how much so many people ignored of the anger at the changing world, the danger of ignoring small bits of fascism for trade deals or other wins, and growing inequality. And yet it still has huge blind spots, and ignores that there were voices that were calling out for more attention to the dangers of globalizing money and ignoring democracy and labor and other pieces, and the opening it created. These voices are still ignored, and this book doesn’t fully acknowledge the class war we are in that Robert Reich and others have written about. I don’t know how to solve the problem if we can’t be honest about the scale. Still, though, this was a fascinating and scary book. I would like everyone to read it and we can have a national book discussion, because there is a lot here.

Children of Ruin, Adrian Tchaikovsky

This is the sequel to Tchaikovsky’s Children of Time, and while I don’t think you have to have read the first one, it will help it make a lot more sense. In this iteration, we follow other spaceships who have launched in search of somewhere liveable for humanity. They do discover a planet with life but there are… complications. Our ship with the combined civilization from the first book eventually find the new planet and the remnants of the original searching ship. It continues exploring the different ways that civilization and sentience, if not intelligence can look. The book is good enough as a book, but it’s fairly repetitive of the themes of the first book.

Harlem Shuffle, Colson Whitehead

This drops you in to the early 1960s New York with a Black man who is a striver who wants to move up in the world and build up his legitimate business. His father was a criminal, but well-known and respected in the community, and his cousin is ambitious and criminally inclined but not nearly smart enough to pull it off. Our main character is also married to a lighter-skinned Black woman from a wealthier and more respected family, who has thrown her lot in with him and works on a travel agency that helps Black tourists and eventually those doing civil rights work travel as safely as possible through the country. The book takes us through some of the general tropes and stories of a smart guy who wants to go straight and keeps being pulled back in, along side the corruption of the ’legit’ business world, and the civil rights movement and riots. It was engaging and fascinating and a really great take on some of those tropes.

Cloud Cuckoo Land, Anthony Doerr

Lots of people loved this book. I thought it was fine. Doerr loves to pull at heart strings, and he also knows how to craft a compelling story. This was a tale of a book, a lost play of Diogenes, that has brought joy and hope to people in a Byzantium about to fall to the Muslims, to one of the conscripted invaders and his wife, to a Greek immigrant in more-or-less present day U.S., a 21st century eco-terrorist, and a girl on a space journey in the future. It was enjoyable and sweet at times, definitely a solid 3.5 out of 5, I just didn’t think it was as inspiring as some others did. The best part was the girl on a space journey, and her story ended in a way that was 1) predictable, and 2) didn’t entirely hold up. If you liked All the Light You Cannot See you’ll probably like this book; if like me you found it a fun way to spend the time but a bit superficial, you’ll probably feel the same way here.

How To: Absurd Scientific Advice for Common Real-World Problems, Randall Munroe

Randall Munroe is hilarious, and What If? is still one of my favorite books –I’ve stopped counting it on these lists, but I probably read it once a year and my son reads it more. How To flips the script, with absurd answers to common questions. It was fun, too, but I thought that some of the answers dragged on for a while when being dragged to their most absurd conclusion. It’s worth leaving out to read off and on, but probably not taking time to read cover to cover.

The Hakawati, Rabih Alameddine

I guess you can put this down as another entry in the “sprawling multigenerational magical realist post-colonialist novel” category. The book takes its name from a traditional position of a story teller and tells the tale of a family in Lebanon for several generations, while being interspersed with a tale being told within the story. I’ve read quite a few books in this genre and I do usually enjoy it, for whatever reason this one just didn’t capture my attention the way others did.

The Sentence, Louise Erdrich

This was a fantastic book. Erdrich perfectly captures the weirdness of 2020—the pandemic, the election, Black Lives Matter, White America grappling (or not) with all the things they’ve done. The titular character is haunted both by her previous jail sentence, and a bookstore customer who may have been killed by a sentence in her book. The haunting, though, takes place as everything is breaking down and falling apart around us. Erdrich is Native American and this also explores the way both Native peoples and White Americans show up and engage with Indigenous culture. It was fantastically done and encapsulates its time admirably. Absolutely recommend, and I will be reading The Night Watchman this year, for sure.

Red, White & Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston

Okay, I am not normally a romance person, but after The Ex Hex I felt a little more open minde. I read this book for a friend in return for her reading a book I recommended. And this was also so fun! The son of the American president (a Latina woman from Texas) and the second-in-line prince in the United Kingdom fall for each other. Now, I will say, this is not at all a political book, but I do get the sads whenever I read a pretend world where a woman could be president and U.S. politics are functional and we do not have a strong pro-fascist party. If you are like that, too, you might get depressed reading this. But putting that aside, again, it was just a ton of fun.

The Line Becomes a River, Francisco Cantu

The memoir of a former border guard on the U.S.-Mexico border. Cantu himself, of Mexican and Anglo heritage, seems to be an interesting character. This tale of the way he grappled with the work he was doing and why he chose it is engaging. But it’s hard not to think he’s still sugar coating a lot and avoids grappling with the heaviest criticism of not just policy but the border patrol itself.

The Shepherd’s Crown, Terry Pratchett

This is the last of the Discworld books. I read all 41 of them, and I loved the whole journey. The series ended early when Pratchett died in 2015 of early Alzheimer’s, and this book does feel a little less polished. But overall this Tiffany Aching novel is a very fitting goodbye to the characters and world we love. I wish we could have seen where else the Witches would go, and wrapped up other characters as well. But still, a very satisfying conclusion.

Soonish: Ten Emerging Technologies That’ll Improve and/or Ruin Everything, Kelly & Zach Weinersmith

I imagine most people who like xkcd will enjoy Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal, and therefore this book. Soonish was a very engaging discussion of some emerging technologies such as nanobots, CRISPR, brain implants, programmable hardware and others. The Weinersmith’s are pretty clear that everything is uncertain, and what the potential benefits and pitfalls are of the technologies they consider. It was a great read, and my 11yo and I both zipped through it.

The Book of Longings, Sue Monk Kidd

An entry in the genre of “Jesus’ wife” books, but it definitely stands out in that it really focuses on the main character, Ana, and a life far outside of just her time as ‘wife’, which is relatively short. I liked Ana’s story. I have complicated feelings towards the Jesus’ wife genre of books. I know they are seen as feminist, but I think they are a fundamental misunderstanding of Jesus’ message, and its radical message that a woman could be a follower of Christ, and have value outside of their belonging to a man. And that the only way to care for and give value to a woman was to marry her, rather than celebrate her intrinsic worth and choices on her own. This was a radical message that should be celebrated, and I’d far rather read a book of a woman who was a follower of Jesus, than of his wife.

Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, Starry River of the Sky, and When the Sea Turns to Silver, Grace Lin

Last year I read When the Sea Turns to Silver, a new fairy tale that in itself has several Chinese fairy tales interwoven. These are the last two of the trilogy. Each book stands on their own, but they also are united by people who have been oppressed by and are trying to both save and save people from a greedy magistrate, the Tiger. My 6th grader loved these books, and I had a good time reading and discussing them with him as well.

The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity, David Graeber & David Wengrow

I had higher hopes for this book, written by a radical anthropologist and one of the architects of the Occupy Wall Street movement. Graeber and Wengrow seek to rewrite the ‘arc of history’ narrative, the evolution from hunter gatherer societies to more ‘complex’ Eurasian style nation-states and the belief that this is what humans are moving towards. They showcase how many Indigenous societies were far more complicated than we believe, and how some experimented with many different modes of governance and the societies with looser structures were a choice rather than an unfamiliarity with more strict and hierarchical (Western) modes of government. But the book was just very long, and the more examples they gave the more it muddied the ultimate point to me. I found myself wondering what the thrust of the book was, and its central thesis.

After Piketty: The Agenda for Economics and Inequality, Ed. Heather Boushey, J. Bradford DeLong, & Marshall Steinbaum

Capital in the 21st Century was such a seminal book that really set off many of the current left wing economic discussions. After Piketty is a collection of essays and papers by other economists spurred on by the book, and highlight areas of increasing inequality and policy choices. It’s very long and covers a lot of ground. Not all of it spoke to me (some because of levels of interest, some because of levels of knowledge), but a good 70% grabbed me. I was most interested in some of the discussions around the issues with subcontracting, the damage to countries by tax avoidance, and the way fascism throughout the ages has relied on wealthy individuals who preferred fascism to a higher marginal tax rate – that last one may have some bearing on our current situation.  

Velvet Was the Night, Silva Moreno-Garcia

This is a turn from Mexican Gothic, but not to0 dramatic of one. Velvet is the Night is a noir set in Mexico in the 70s, during a time of dangerous political intrigue. Maite is a lonely legal secretary with bigger dreams and an interest only in her own life, when she is thrown into political intrigue by a neighbor who goes out of town and asks her to cat sit. The neighbor disappears, and Maite starts to search for her at the same time as a crime lord and the government. It’s full of twists and turns, tinged with romance, and highlights the attempts to live and work while your society is in crisis. It was a new exploration of some noir-ish tropes, and I really enjoyed it.

Sea Loves Me, Mia Couto

Couto is a celebrated author from Mozambique, but I was unfamiliar with his work- or any other authors from Mozambique, honestly. But this is a collection of short stories and the titular novella that have recently been translated into English. They tell short tales of the Portuguese, African, and Indian inhabitants of Mozambique, living in a changing world with changing people and animals and cultures as well. I feel like I need to reread this as I can’t remember the stories themselves perfectly, but I do remember enjoying the feel of them as I did and it is definitely a book that transports the listener.

The Extraordinary and Unusual Adventures of Horatio Lyle, Catherine Webb

I wanted to like this! It feels like I should! It has an eccentric scientific genius solving mysteries and crimes for the Victorian British government, and a puckish, bright, street urchin with trust issues. Lots of capers, goings-on, and danger. Yet it all felt rather dull. It just wasn’t all I wanted it to be.

Redshirts, John Scalzi

This book is about as meta as you can get, and really for people who have been sci-fi fans for a while. A new crew member on the flagship cruiser for an organization very like the Federation notices that there are some strange things happening on this voyage, especially to any low-level crew members who end up near the Captain or Chief Officers. It was a fun read, but then the epilogue goes yet another level meta and seemed to add some more complications. I would have been happy with the ‘main’ ending.

The Tangled Lands, Paolo Bacigalupi & Tobias Buckell

Four stories about people trying to survive in a land where yes, magic exists, but every time it’s used it seems to bring forward a toxic, thorny weed that chokes out the village. And so magic is highly regulated; in some areas they want to kill all magic users, in some just anyone who is unauthorized. This was a creative new fantasy world, and the writing was excellent. One of my top books for the year.

Inventing Latinos: A New Story of American Racism, Laura E. Gomez

Once people come to the United States they tend to get lumped together into larger groupings, but of course immigrants from Latin America don’t see themselves as one people, but as Puerto Ricans, Colombians, Mexicans, Guatemalans, Argentinians, Brazilians, etc. It’s only recently that there has been a Latine identity. Gomez explores how that has come to be and race and immigration in America in a very insightful book.

Alice Adams, Booth Tarkington

Booth Tarkington is one of only two people to win the Pulitzer Prize for fiction twice – the other is Faulkner – and yet he is all but forgotten today. I also find it odd, as I read through past Pulitzer winners, that this time period in the 20s is so glossed over as well. Alice Adams, about a striving young woman whose family has fallen on harder times, was barely relatable because the rules and goals at play seemed so foreign, even more foreign than a Victorian British book. I’d almost recommend bringing this and some other books back as part of our history class just to give shape to these lost decades.

The Magnificent Ambersons, Booth Tarkington

And this is the other Pulitzer winner from Tarkington. He was quite interested in social class, people striving in America, and the changes in society. This book takes place around the advent of an automobile with the richest family in town as their fortune wanes, and the pretty terrible heir to the fortune as he lives as the center of his universe and eventually learns to make his way.

The Book of Cold Cases, Simon St. James

A pretty standard thriller. A girl who has hidden past, having been kidnapped (and ultimately escaped) as a child, spends her time curating a blog about past cold cases. In her day job, though, she comes face to face with a reclusive woman who happens to be at the center of one of the biggest local unsolved cases as a suspect and survivor. The two meet for an interview, and as things develop we find things are not all that they seem as the past literally haunts the present. It was sort of clear where the turns were, but I still really enjoyed reading this one.

Revolution in Our Time: The Black Panther Party’s Promise to the People, Kekla Magoon

It’s sort of hard to say who this is for. It’s definitely written at a level for late elementary/early middle, but a lot of kids aren’t going to have other political background needed to make sense of it, and it’s pretty long. But besides the fact that I felt a little talked down to as an adult some time, it’s still a great primer given that we really learn so little about the Black Panther’s and the true story of revolutionary movements in the 60s. Just that as white people we should be scared. This was a really great overview of the society at the time, the goals of the Panthers, and how they came apart. Spoiler – the same thing Russia is doing to sow misinformation and discord now is what the FBI did back then!

Inferior: How Science Got Women Wrong and the New Research That’s Rewriting the Story, Angela Saini

Because a) there have not historically been a lot of women scientists, b) no one ever wants to believe women about their own lives and bodies, and c) we’re hard to study what with our hormones and risk of getting pregnant during a trial, women have often been erased from medicine. Not just in a “scientists don’t always believe in women’s diseases like endometriosis and fibromyalgia” way, but in a, “we didn’t test aspirin on women because we didn’t want to account for menstruation changes in our trial” way. This book tries to take a more objective view of women, health, and medicine.

The Philosopher’s Flight, Tom Miller

In this, practical philosophy is the magic system, and there is some science and theory around it – about inherent power, sigils that have to be drawn certain ways, ways to layer spells. It also for some reason primarily is found in women, and men make more practical philosophers. There’s also a lot of people who want to ban philosophy and burn witches, naturally. One young man, Tom, has grown up as the son of one of the best emergency fliers around and a veteran of the previous philosophical wars and wants nothing more than to break the barrier and become a war flier. It’s an interesting thought experiment, and a perfectly fine book. But even though it came from a good place, for some reason the “what if sexism … but for men!” piece never clicked for me. 

Nervous Conditions, Tsitsi Dangarembga

I don’t remember how I became acquainted with this book, but it is a coming of age novel by a girl in post-colonial Rhodesia and considered one of 100 books to change the world. Tambu is a young girl with an alcoholic father and poor family with no prospects, but her uncle is fairly well off running a missionary school. After her older brother is killed, Tambu becomes the best hope for the family and is able to go to the school, and the book goes through her attempts to make her life better, the work she does to navigate two worlds, and her challenges. I really loved reading it, and the glimpse of life in a world different from my own. One of my top books the last year.

Maus I: A Survivor’s Tale, and Maus II: My Father Bleeds History, Art Spiegelman

I actually don’t think I had sat down and read both of these together, cover to cover, before, even as I was very familiar with them. But then Republicans went and banned this book – and not for the reasons you’d think. Spiegelman’s mom committed suicide and you could sort of tell she’s naked (and is also an anthropomorphized mouse) in the scene. This was considered far more inappropriate for students to see than pictures of people in concentration camps and reading about a boy getting murdered. But I digress. Spiegelman’s books are, of course, a story of the Holocaust, but also family and his relationship with his wife, his father, his stepmother, and his deceased mother. The books are moving and an important piece of history, and changed what graphic novels should be. They should be required in every school.

Hell of a Book, Jason Mott

Yeah, this is a Hell of a Book, and with a very unreliable narrator. The narrator is an unnamed Black author who has written a beloved book, but one he cannot bear to think about – everything about it is spoken of abstractly, and he goes on autopilot when doing his interviews. At the same time, we also drift in and out of the story of a boy named Soot, a very dark-skinned Black boy in the rural South not too long ago, who also seems to be related to a hallucination that The Author seems to be seeing. The stories converge and blend in confusing ways, but the heart of the story, about the need to look – really look – at the people who are being hurt by this racism every day is relayed powerfully throughout.

Davos Man: How the Billionaires Devoured the World, Peter S. Goodman

You really can’t beat Rutger Bregman’s take down of Davos (longer version here), but if you really want to get in to the problem with global philanthropy and relying on billionaires’ charity to save us, this will help you out. The issue is that billionaires and trillion dollar companies have too much money and power, and will do almost anything to keep it that way. And, do we really want to have to rely on this charity? Goodman mentions that Marc Benioff, of SalesForce, started “Air Bridge” to deliver ppe to the UK during the pandemic. This was celebrated, but no one asked the key question: “why was the wealthiest, most powerful country on earth dependent on the charity of a profit-making software company to outfit its medical personnel with basic protection in the face of a pandemic.” Goodman also discusses how billionaires have been so effective at turning people’s anger towards refugees and immigrants and others with little power, rather than fact services are cut because of a lack of taxes – it’s not that the pie is being shared by too many, it’s that it got too small. I could go on, but I encourage everyone to read this book critiquing “the lofty pledges for change voiced by the people most invested in preserving the status quo.”

Tell Me an Ending, Jo Harkin

Ooh, this was so good. Technology exists in the future that can remove very specific and harmful memories, similar to Eternal Sunshine. It is highly regulated, though, and people can choose between open or confidential patients – whether they retain the knowledge that they had the procedure. After a lawsuit forces the company to tell confidential patients that they have had the procedure, many ethical dilemmas for the company and individuals exist, and it uncovers some potentially shady business. The story tells the tale of four patients and an employee of the company, and it is really, incredibly well done and has stuck with me throughout the year.

The Books of Jacob, Olga Tokarczuk

This tome, over 900 pages, tells the tale of Jacob Frank, his predecessors and his followers. Frank was a Polish Jew who claimed to be the messiah. He was also a Sabbatean, a sect following Sabbatai Zevi, who also claimed to be the messiah. The book is a fictionalized account of a very true story. It was really interesting, and very long. My main issue is that there is a lot of history and weightiness in this book, and I felt like I didn’t quite have enough of a grasp of all of it. I love Umberto Eco, who does the same with the Christian sects proliferating in the medieval ages, but I have more background there. I have joked that I like to have my Handbook of Heresies handy when I read some of Eco, and I felt like I needed a comparable volume to really understand all the nuance in The Books of Jacob.

The Country of the Painted Firs, Sarah Orne Jewett

I picked this up at a used bookstore, based on the premise on the back that Jewett was a quintessential author to capture a disappearing way of life in Maine. It’s a slim volume written in 1896 deeply imbued with a sense of place, namely northern Maine and in particular on the water, with almost everyone making a living from the water and some still living almost entirely alone on rocky islands, eking out an existence. It was evocative, and while it didn’t have much of a story – very much a slice of life book – it did capture a love for a place and community that is now gone and was from a different part of America.

Nine Magic Pea-Hens and Other Serbian Folk-Tales, Vuk Stefanovic Kardzic

My mom’s family is Serbian, and in her retirement my Mom has been rediscovering stories of her family and trying to learn more about her heritage. And I love folk tales, both as themselves and part of society and culture. My mom learned about this book when researching the Slavic version of Cinderella, and got me a copy. The problem with the book is that when you cut down to the bone in a lot of fairy tales they’re actually pretty short – it’s the color, and the embellishments, and the added songs, that pad them out and make the telling so fun. This book doesn’t have any of that. Most of the tales are just a paragraph or two. So, it’s probably fine as, like, and index of Slavic tales, but it’s not particularly fun to read on in its own.

Wild Thoughts from Wild Places, David Quammen

Quammen is an author I have really enjoyed for a long time, since I had to read Song of the Dodo in grad school. This is actually a fun collection of essays he wrote for magazines early in his career, everything from kayaking competitions to parrot- and pearl- smuggling to urban coyotes. They’re a bit dated, but still a good, solid collection of outdoors and nature essays.

Kaiju Preservation Society, John Scalzi

This is an incredibly fun book about a world next to ours with honest-to-goodness Kaiju. Nuclear blasts weaken the barrier, and there is an intergovernmental group of scientists studying and protecting Kaiju. And listen. Scalzi makes a solid effort to explore their biology and everything, but really it’s just a fun book about Kaiju and interdimensional travel and how much we all hate late-capitalist society. (The main guy loses his job in the pandemic after his boss steals his idea and fires him.) Anyway, highly recommend it if you need something not too serious, which we could all use.

Bowlaway, Elizabeth McCracken

A very odd tale about a woman who appears one day in a graveyard outside a small midwestern town in the 1920s. No one has ever seen her before or learned anything about her, she has no apparent injuries, but she does have a bunch of gold and a passion for duckpin bowling. The story takes you through the life of the town through the depression, prohibition, and world wars, and was entirely unexpected in the way the story unfolded. It was a very unique book in so many ways.

Cartographers, Peng Shepherd

This one was not a unique book. It was very highly acclaimed as a mystery/fantasy novel, and the craft was fine enough to get the job done. But the book itself was only okay. I’m not sure some of the central conflict/secrets ever made sense (although I will admit I am never going to buy in to a conflict that could easily be solved by two characters just having a short conversation. Communication is important, people!) And it was pretty easy to see where things were going early on. It passed the time, but I was not enamored with this book.

One of Ours, Willa Cather

Reading so many Pulitzer winners from the 20s has been an experience. For one thing, this is one of the eras that’s just entirely glossed over in American history classes – and the books in the 20s often cover life that began in the late 1800s, even more forgotten. For another, they are so very focused on the Midwest, often in immigrant communities. Interestingly, these immigrant (Dutch or Scottish or German) are treated as the soul of America. One of Ours covers the life of a young man growing up on a farm, always searching for something to believe in, who finally finds it and the sense of being something bigger than him in the war. It was a very poignant book, and far more affecting in bringing to light the disaffection with the day to day than, say, Catcher in the Rye. I’d say this is a book that should be brought back to our curricula.

Astonishing the Gods, Ben Okri

A young man finds himself stranded on an island with invisible beings, and a series of tests he must pass to find enlightenment, to join them, and to become one of the Invisible Gods himself. I’m not sure I got all of the meanings of this book, as I’ve seen it referred to as a parable that provides insight into our world of inequality and injustice and I did not get that at all. But I did really like reading it and thought the story on its own, while clearly hinting at deeper meaning, was engrossing and stood by itself.

The Factory Witches of Lowell, C. S. Materich

The independent bookstore near me had a Labor Day table. This was on it as a staff pick with the description that just said, “Queer Union Witches.” Obviously, I had to buy it. Primarily for one of my friends, but I did read it first. It’s a short read, with the women of a boarding house deciding that they need to form a union for the sewing factories. They are bound together in their pact by magic that prevents anyone from talking to management or betraying the strike, and form closer relationships in the battle. It was a fun read and obviously touched on a lot of themes I’m interested in. If you also like women’s solidarity and the thought of capitalists getting their comeuppance through immigrant women, it’s probably worth your time as well.

Anthem: A Novel, Noah Hawley

There’s been a definite theme lately that maybe the older generations have done a pretty crap job with running things and maybe teenagers and only people under 25 should be given a chance. I’m not quite ready to give up on my generation yet, and I know quite a few Gen Zers (including the ones I’m raising) and I’m not quite sure about turning over the reins. But I do think they’d do a far better job than the Boomers and older Gen Xers, and there’s plenty in my cohort who don’t actually get global warming and the threat to democracy. Anthem is in this vein, taking place in an America that is about the same time as ours, with a teenager who has fashioned himself as a Messiah, the civil war rhetoric turned up to 11, school shootings radicalizing and militarizing the youth, and an Epstein-like figure able to kidnap and terrorize people at will. It was a pretty horrifying vision, and hard to read at times, but a really good book that made me question if I’m cynical enough.

Silent Winds, Dry Seas, Vinod Busjeet

I don’t really know anything about Mauritius, so I was really glad to read this story of the time when Mauritius was becoming independent. It sounds like a fascinating country, with the native Mauritian/Creole population, British, French, Indians brought as indentured laborers and slaves and their descendents. Busjeet explores all of these populations, never feeling like he is lecturing or explaining for White audiences, but providing little bits of context to help make sense of the country if you are unfamiliar. It follows one particular family, focusing on the son and the way he made his way and saw the politics and battles and rules of caste and society in his family. Perhaps its because of Hurricane Ian striking my own home town last year, but the tale of a hurricane destroying their home and the family having to run across to a neighbor in the winds was particularly affecting. Throughout, though, it was a fantastic book.   

The Able McLaughlins, Margaret Wilson

Another Pulitzer winner from the 20s; another slice of life from an immigrant community eking out an existence on the plains and representing the best of America. However, this is completely different from One of Ours. In Wilson’s book, a young man comes back from war wanting nothing more than to make a life with the woman he has fallen for and live in the community he has always been a part of. The main challenge with this one is it makes so little sense if you are not in the time. There is a scandal with a woman raped early in the book and 1) it’s a problem for her that she might be shunned, and 2) the situation is discussed in such a roundabout way it actually took me a while to figure out what was going on. And then the fallout and secrets from it have repercussions that were also so vaguely discussed it was hard to pick up all the subtext. This is one that does not really hold up outside of historical interest.

What If? 2: Additional Serious Scientific Answers to Absurd Hypothetical Questions, Randall Munroe

Randall Munroe is hilarious, and xckd is one of the best things on the internet. What If? is one of my favorite books around. What If? 2 is very good still, but I didn’t love it quite as much as I did the first one. Munroe seems to have leaned in to how many absurd and yet entirely sincere questions come from kids, and written this with that in mind. So it’s still a good read even if you’re an adult, but it definitely felt a little younger than the first.

The Unfinished World and Other Stories, Amber Sparks

Helen Oyeyami’s short story collection What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours is still one of the most fantastic books I’ve ever read. Just wholly unique and different. The Unfinished World and Other Stories is not exactly like What Is Not Yours…. but it did leave me with the same dreamlike feeling, unsure if the worlds created were a reimagining of my own or something totally different. The stories were immersive and haunting and beautiful, whether about someone building homes for the dead as temples in case they return, or outlining the bizarre items and each of their histories in “Cabinet of Curiosities”. Sparks captures a feeling, and it was a delight to read.

Hero of Two Worlds: The Marquis de Lafayette in the Age of Revolution, Mike Duncan

Full disclosure, biographies and memoirs are my least favorite form of book (the latter more than the former.). I just find myself losing interest in the domesticity and the fortieth letter you have to read through. That being said, if anyone deserves a biography, it is certainly Lafayette, someone at the pivotal moment of every point of the American and French revolutions and a fascinating and principled man. And you could hardly ask for a better biographer than Revolutions’ Mike Duncan. The book took me a long time to wade through – I might have had a couple others going at the same time – but it is a very intriguing subject matter.

What is Real? The Unfinished Quest for the Meaning of Quantum Physics, Adam Becker

Quantum physics is very interesting, and incredibly bizarre. It allows for random chance, or that everything is predetermined, and challenges both a planned universe and free will. It deeply challenges the way we experience and interact with the world. And yet, as Becker shows here, for years and years the thought was that it was only important to solve equations, not figure out what it all means. Becker tries to look at the feuds that exist in quantum physics, and how other meanings were brought forward. But while the science writing was interesting, I’m not sure I really understood all of the different possibilities for quantum physics and what they meant. This is a topic that interests me on a philosophical and scientific level, but this book didn’t clarify the schools of thought for me very well.

Sea of Tranquility, Emily St. John Mandel

St. John Mandel is an absolutely gorgeous writer, with just beautiful and atmospheric books. This one seems to take place in the same world as The Glass Hotel, but in a far more fantastical vein than any of her others, even Station Eleven, with time travelers, people living on the moon, and a metaplot with a writer who has written a book about a pandemic and is doing talks as a new pandemic is kicking off, and questions about the simulation hypothesis and how to prove it one way or the other. But just as you should read Station Eleven even if you don’t care about post-apocalyptic books, you should Sea of Tranquility even if you don’t care about time travel and the simulation hypothesis. Because St. John Mandel is such a beautiful writer and her books are sublime and more than they appear to be.

The Diving Pool, Yoko Ogawa

I started a new job, so I started a new book club. This was the first book, three long short-stories, or short novellas (unsure which). It was okay. Others liked the book far more than I did, but I found it disturbing and I was unsure what to make of some it. Some of it is supposed to be disturbing, with a girl in a house where her parents have taken in and raise many orphans acting out her anger and cruelty on younger ones, and another with someone sort of trying to poison her pregnant sister with grapefruit jelly. And the last story with an unreliable narrator and possible murders? Just unsure all around how I felt after reading this.

Coraline, Neil Gaiman

Like Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman is someone I have come to much later in life than I should have but now absolutely adore. It is a rare writer who does such an amazing job with both adult and kids books. The only other I can think of is Roald Dahl, but Gaiman is even better and more prolific. My middle child is very into graphic novels, and plucky heroines, so we got the graphic novel adaptation of this from the library and read it together. Very creepy and intriguing and an excellent read all around.

The General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money, John Maynard Keynes

This book is part of the reason I read so many fewer books this year than last year. It took a lot to get through. I think I had expected it to be more like The Wealth of Nations in that it would have economics, but be more economic philosophy. But nope, this pretty heavily pulls on lots of economic discussions I did not know and critiques of theories with lots of math. There were some interesting parts I could understand, but this is definitely for economists, not lay people.

The Lesson, Cadwell Turnbull

I expected to like this story of aliens landing over St. Thomas looking for we-don’t-know-what and harsh rules more than I did. I never fully grasped what the lesson was. Like all alien invasion stories, it’s a bit of metaphor for colonization and Europeans but was still a bit fuzzy to me.

Matrix, Lauren Groff

This one I loved. Groff has invented a fascinating character, Marie, who is an illegitimate daughter of William, Duke of Aquitane, and half sister of Eleanor of Aquitane. She is large and uncouth and hails from a line of women crusaders. The book opens with Marie sent away from the court to become prioress of a convent in disrepair, one which as the book proceeds she builds up through her own wisdom and strength, and aided by miraculous visions. It’s a wonderful story exploring women’s power and place in the Church, and written by a skilled author. Loved it, one of the top books I read last year.

Severance, Ling Ma

There’s going to be a lot of pandemic literature, isn’t there? What’s interesting is that now that we’ve lived through one (although admittedly not as devastating as the ones that get written about) we’re also aware of the disorientation and boredom that come along with the pandemic as well. Severance definitely captures that feeling of being unmoored and wondering what even to do we all had in 2020. In this book a fungal infection of uncertain contagion pathways seems to take hold of people and make them zombies acting out habits in the past. The main character is mostly a loner and has no family, and an unfulfilling career that is at the same time her only anchor and sense of identity. The book takes us through memories of her recent life with her Chinese-American family, her search for something more, and the life of survival in These Unprecedented TimesTM.

How High We Go in the Dark, Sequoia Nagamatsu

This was a tough read. Climate change kicks off a new pandemic that is a reverse of the way ours played out. It primarily targets children and, at the beginning, is nearly unfailingly fatal in a painful and drawn-out way.  How High takes us through how people and society are dealing with this and search for meaning. There was one fairly key part that just really didn’t land for me, but outside of that it’s a poignant book and beautifully written and hard to read if you spend as much time terrified for what climate change means for your children as I do.

H is for Hawk, Helen Macdonald

This book isn’t quite what I expected. I was thinking it would be nature writing, but it is actually Macdonald’s story of falconry and taming a goshawk, a bunch about T. H. White, his life and his book The Goshawk, and reflections from right after losing her father. It was a pretty good series of essays, but just not the nature tale I thought it would be.

We Spread, Iain Reid

Well, talk about an unreliable narrator. An aging artist starts to falter and wakes up one day learning that her and her husband had made arrangements to be taken care of in a retirement home in her later years. A home that seems to be fairly sinister and inescapable, or maybe is only seen that way by a deteriorating older woman. It definitely had a disorienting gothic feel throughout, similar to Plows Over the Bones of the Dead.  It left me a bit more unresolved than I’d hoped for, but I suppose that’s rather the point.

Trout Fishing in America/The Pill vs. the Springhill Mine Disaster/In Watermelon Sugar, Richard Brautigan

I hadn’t reread Brautigan in a while, but I do enjoy going back to it. I love a book with a sense of place, and I love a book with a sense of time. And there is nothing that will make you feel that you are wandering out West as part of the counterculture in the late 60s like reading some Brautigan. This group of two novellas and a bunch of poems is going to take you back in time and on an adventure. And make you get Harry Styles’ “Watermelon Sugar” stuck in your head on a loop.

Flyaway, Kathleen Jennings

The second book choice for my book club, this one is a modern(?) fairy tale in Australia. It is among those stories that have become more common in the last few years that really feel like they’re supposed to be in the 1950s at earliest but then someone has a cell phone and it really throws you off. A girl is in a small town, with an overbearing mother, and a secret of something  having happened in the past that leaks out in drips and drabs as you find out more about the town and it’s connection with old stories. Some of which it turns out were made up for this, but felt like they should be legends. We read it with someone who had lived in Australia, and she liked it a lot more than the rest of us and was able to give us context for how it feels compared to other Australian and Aboriginal folk lore. I liked it, I could just tell I wasn’t getting everything I was supposed to.

Thistlefoot, GennaRose Netercott

A brother and sister from a family of puppeteers, who have hardly spoken in years, find out they’ve inherited something from their Russian great-grandmother, and it just so happens to be Baba Yaga’s house. And also an evil spirit that’s tracking the house down. This book felt familiar, but it had some creative twists to it as well that I enjoyed. But, and this isn’t too much of a spoiler, you start to get the feel early on, the house was formed during a pogrom and the spirit is a being that breathes hatred into everyone. Fine, we’ve all read that before. I guess I’m just starting to feel that fairy tales that make a spirit to warp people is a very comforting tale that lets people off the hook, and we need more tales to help us grapple with the ways we corrupt ourselves.

A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain, Robert Olen Butler

Okay. Okay okay okay. I’ve been reading the past Pulitzer Prize winners, mostly starting from the beginning. However, I picked up this winner from 1993 at a used book store and read it out of order. And it is an entire book written from the perspective of Vietnamese immigrants written by an old white guy. Like, he had fought in Vietnam and obviously wants to make people sympathetic and I think he was trying to do something he thought was helpful? I guess? But come. On. There’s even one written by a ‘bar girl’ who falls for an American client that is written entirely broken English and it is soooo cringey just not okay. And this was not only published but won the Pulitzer! In the 90s! Reeling from that. Absolutely reeling.

Arrowsmith, Sinclair Lewis

Back to the 20s for this Pulitzer. Some classics are timeless, some are not. This one was not. I mean, I guess the striving for meaning is, but the whole way the college and medical system works, and a lot of the plot were not. There’s a young man, Arrowsmith, who wants to be a research scientist and deals with the trials and tribulations of working on public health in rural areas, and eventually ends up at a research institution. There’s a lot more that fills it in, but I didn’t have context for much of it, and honestly I couldn’t tell who were the ‘good guys’ in some of the medical discussions. I’ve read other Sinclair Lewis that still holds up, but this one doesn’t.

The Prisoner, B.A. Paris

Any good suspense novel is going to include some twists that don’t 100% make sense, and require you to just sort of go along with some of it. This book required way too much of it. The overly convoluted plot didn’t make sense (they never do, but this book wasn’t propulsive enough for me to overlook it), the character motivations didn’t make sense, the deus ex machina for our main character didn’t make sense. None of it held together at all. Would not recommend.

Midnight at the Bright Ideas Bookstore, Matthew Sullivan

A young woman with a tragic past is working at a charming and quirky independent book store that has become her home when one of the regular clients commits suicide. In trying to track down more she uncovers much of her past and hidden family secrets. I’m sure you can fill in some of the beats, but it was a good story nonetheless.

Miracles, C.S. Lewis

I know he’s the hero of the more conservative Christians, but I do like C. S. Lewis and his spiritual writing. I’m not sure he 100% explains miracles in a way that will ring true for everyone, and I dislike the way he dismisses the way other faiths might view them, but I do think he makes a compelling case for why, if you go along with Christianity, you need to go all in.

An Atlas of Extinct Countries, Gideon Defoe

Gideon Defoe is, of course, the author of the fantastic Pirates! series, which I encourage everyone to read. This similarly humorous book is a true catalogue of extinct countries. Some only ever existed in the fevered dreams of the 4th son of a European noble in the time European nobles could pretend anything was their country. Others were pretend countries just to prove a point. And some were real places tragically destroyed by the aforementioned European nobles (with some assist from Americans later on), but the more tragic ones are kept to a minimum. Each country also only has a couple pages so it’s a great book to keep on hand for when you have a few minutes spare time.

And that’s it! All 75 books I read last year. I hope to get this done in a more timely manner in 2024, and do a mid-year review as well – I was starting to forget a lot of these buy the time I got around to it. Happy reading everyone!

2021 Book Reviews Pt. 2

Well, here we are at the end of another year and on into 2022. I know it’s hard to believe since everything feels basically the same since March of 2020 – except for those three or four weeks in early summer when we thought things might get better. Gosh, those were nice, weren’t they?

I read 93 books this year, a record since I started keeping track. Looking back, I think there were a few reasons. For one, since the pandemic started years have actually taken quite a bit longer than they used to, although this has been offset by the fact that days are much shorter. Secondly, I think I chose much easier books this year. The biggest struggles were some of the classics like Orlando and The Trial. But certainly nothing like Capital in the 21st Century or Wealth of Nations that took six weeks to read. Everything felt hard enough this year so I went a bit easier on my book choices.

Below, reviews of the books I read the second half the year. Part 1, January through June, here.

All We Can Save: Truth, Courage, and Solutions for the Climate Crisis, ed. Ayana Elizabeth Johnson

This collection of essays by women climate activists from all ages and walks of life was really inspiring. It is, as the name suggest, focused on why we should keep going, and what we can still accomplish. It makes an impassioned case for forcefully fighting for the change that we need and not softening our message, and working to do what still can be done – saving 2% of reefs is infinitely better than zero, after all, and every meter of sea level rise we can prevent is worth millions of lives.

Entangled Life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds, & Shape Our Futures, Merlin Sheldrake

Really interesting study of the way fungi are an integral part of so much of our world, and impact communication and plant life in ways that we are still getting a grasp on. What is most fascinating here is that fungi challenge our view of the world as one where each individual is in competition with all other individuals of its species, and each species is fighting with every other one. Plants use fungi to share nutrients with one another, demonstrating cooperation between individuals and between species. Lichen is the clearest example of pure symbiosis that exists with two species creating an entirely new one when they partner together. And there is so much about this we’re only just learning because it was thought ot be impossible. Our embrace of competition and the selfish gene has been such a hindrance to truly understanding the natural world.

No One Is Talking About This, Patricia Lockwood

This is a novel that is very much of its current time and place. It doesn’t have the pandemic, but everything else just oozes America in 2020. It’s written in short bursts that could be twitter threads from a woman who is an influencer in the “portal” and overwhelmed with how to keep up with it and afraid to ever step away.

Upon the Sweeping Flood and Other Stories, Joyce Carol Oates

This collection of short stories was fine. I picked it up at a library book sale a while ago because I think the only Joyce Carol Oates I read previously were stand alone short stories in school. I can appreciate her talent, but these slice-of-depressing-life stories are just not for me.

Parable of the Talents, Octavia E. Butler

The second of the Parable duologies was much more depressing and harder to read. It features a Trump-esque figure despite being written way back in the 1998 – although Butler also thought we could make it 2030 or so before we dealt with one – concentration camps, and the kidnapping of Lauren’s daughter and other children of heathens. I guess it’s supposed to be better as humanity finally pulls through and makes it to the stars but wow, this one was a hard read.

The Liar’s Dictionary, Eley Williams

An interesting idea as a young woman in modern Britain is helping to digitize one of the oldest dictionaries in a dying company. The story alternates between her and her discovery of several mountweazels, intentionally fake dictionary entries, and the lovelorn compiler who entered them, all while someone is threatening the dictionary and its updates to words like “marriage”. I have to say, this sounded like the kind of quirky, nerdy book that I’d love but I was very disappointed. Somehow it made a scandal over dictionaries feel boring.

Flight of the Diamond Smugglers: A Tale of Pigeons, Obsession, and Greed Along Coastal South Africa, Matthew Gavin Frank

I spent a lot of time wondering and looking up if this book was really nonfiction, it seemed so strange that all of this could be completely hidden. It’s generally about the completely owned company diamond towns in South Africa that still exist after apartheid, the lives of people there, and the desperation that leads to any chance to smuggle a life-changing diamond out despite the risks.

Land of Big Numbers, Te-Ping Chen

These 10 stories about a modern day – or close to it – China demonstrate so many ways of living in and interacting with the state today. They don’t have a grand statement per se, and the protagonists range from a farmer/inventor desperate to join the Party, to a middle class striver trying to make it rich, to a brilliant student who becomes a pro-democracy activist. But they do paint a vivid picture, and are a master class in creating a lived in world with just a few short strokes and using a short story to open a window.

Migrations, Charlotte McConaghy

This was a stunningly beautiful and poignant book. In the not-too-distant future a naturalist is trying to find a way to track Arctic terns on what is likely to be there last migration, as the book bounces back in time to be meditation of both personal life and the loss we are all experiencing as a society right now.

American Gods, Neil Gaiman

My second time through with this book and I loved it just as much. Gaiman is, of course, an absolutely brilliant writer, the type of writer where I can just get lost in the words no matter what’s happening. And his exploration of belief, and immigration, and where we put our faith and what that creates, is so fascinating, and a really good story to boot.

The Sum of Us: What Racism Costs Everyone and How We Can Prosper Together, Heather McGhee

Nothing will help you explain what is happening in this country as clearly as reading the stories of White people who filled their own public pools with cement rather than swim with Black people. Anyone who would do that will absolutely burn Democracy to the ground before they’ll share even a crumb.

The Firekeeper’s Daughter, Angeline Boulley

This book made it onto several year’s end best lists, and it absolutely deserves to be there. Eighteen-year-old Daunis lives across two worlds, with a white mother and an Ojibwe father, and has been navigating them both and the complexities of family. As she’s starting college, though, she sees her best friend murdered in front of her, and learns of hidden crimes going on in her own communities. It’s a good thriller, a coming of age tale, a really wonderful story of finding belonging and highlighting Native issues, and with really positive messages for women. I wish there had been more stories spreading this sort of narrative and hero when I was in high school.

The Man Who Was Thursday, G.K. Chesterton

This is some sort of classic, but it is so, so bizarre. A man ends up sucked into an undercover conspiracy to take down a group of anarchists that will end modern government and capitalism? But everyone in the group is an undercover agent? And then the whole thing was a nightmare? And none of it makes sense? Since it’s Chesterton I think it’s about the dangers of anarchists instead of mocking the people who are afraid of Communists and anarchists, but honestly it could go either way.. But it also doesn’t matter because it’s not a good book whichever message you’re supposed to take from it.

Animal, Vegetable, Junk: A History of Food, from Sustainable to Suicidal, Mark Bittman

I think this was a perfectly serviceable book as it was. I’ve just read a lot of books about the health and environmental problems with our current food system, and I’m not sure this one added much to the genre. If you haven’t dived into that subject yet, this is as good an intro as any. If you’re read Omnivore’s Dilemma and all the others there won’t be much new here.

The Light of Days: The Untold Story of women Resistance Fighters in Hitler’s Ghettos, Judy Batalion

Judy Batalion, in the afterword of this book, says that she got the idea because she found a book written shortly after World War II about some of these women, that assumed that their stories and names would be on everyone’s lips for generations. It is amazing the stories that have been lost and the narrative that has been shaped about World War II that doesn’t include amazing tales of resistance in the ghettos, but this was a fantastic and inspiring book and I hope everyone does read it and learn these stories.

The Songlines, Bruce Chatwin

Still not entirely sure what to make of this odd book, a novelization of visits to the Australian outback, mediation on nomadism in humans, and The Songlines, a way of mapping the outback for Australian Aborigines. I guess Chatwin was quite an accomplished travel writer in his day and thought of himself as an anthropologist as well. I’ll just say that it felt very White, smug-faux-hippie, and I wasn’t quite sure what one was supposed to get from it instead.

The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America, Richard Rothstein

There’s a sort of general sense in the United States that a lot of the racism that has existed was de facto instead of de jure. Our civil rights laws had to come in to make everyone treat each other as equals, but gosh, a lot racism was just the way people wanted to interact and laws can’t change that! Let this put that thought to rest forever, as it goes in detail into the many federal and state laws that explicitly limited Black access to mortgages, safe housing, most neighborhoods, and the ability to build wealth. It really bolsters the case for reparations when you learn of how many pathways were officially closed until very, very recently.

Night Watch, Terry Pratchett

As we get towards the end of Discworld, Pratchett is still exploring ways to play with the characters. In this case, it means sending Sam Vimes, Commander of the City Watch, back in time accidentally to the time of a revolution that brought the current Patrician Ventinari into power. It also shows the limits of Pratchett’s “just to the next right thing” philosophy, though, as throughout he’s down on revolution as not really changing anything while talking about how much better Ankh-Morpork is in the present day after the revolution. Sometimes you need to change the system so people can do the next right thing.

The Wee Free Men, Terry Pratchett

Here we have an introduction to Tiffany Aching (pronounced Ache-ing), a young girl who turns out to be a witch. I really enjoyed these new parts of Discworld, and getting to spend a bit of time with The Witches in different circumstances. These are more young adulty than the others, but not too different, and they were a fun addition.

The Quiet American, Graham Greene

I reread this book this year. And while it’s not perfect – it definitely has a strong whiff of colonialist sentiments – I still maintain it is the best critique of neo-liberal attitudes, American state building,  and the colonial attitude that still infects both, around.

Timequake, Kurt Vonnegut

I love Vonnegut, but his later books do tend to get a bit rambly. Here he talks about a novel he was going to write and scrapped because he realized it wasn’t any good, alternating between snippets of what would have happened in the novel and musings on current life. He still has an amazing way with a turn of phrase but the whole thing didn’t really pull together.

Foundation Trilogy, Isaac Asimov

Lumping all three of these together since that makes the most sense. The Foundation Trilogy, and its idea that with enough people and enough data we can predict the way history will go, has probably inspired millions of current thinkers. It’s still a fascinating idea, and one of the best pieces of Golden Age sci-fi around. And also a great example of how sci-fi writers could imagine anything except for a difference in existing gender roles and a world that wasn’t entirely straight white men.

Mirrorland, Carole Johnstone

Cat has fled her past life, but comes back when her twin sister, El, has disappeared. She hasn’t talked to her sister in years and is surprised to find that El and her husband, their childhood friend, Ross, live in the house they had lived in and feared as children. Cat finds many of her repressed memories coming back as she unravels the mystery of what happened to El. If you like psychological thrillers and an unreliable narrator, this one’s for you.

Monstrous Regiment, Terry Pratchett

I do find the ways that Pratchett plays with gender in the Disc interesting, even as I think he can push things further and that he’s not always entirely clear on what he wants himself. The way it normally comes up is with the Dwarves, who refer to both genders as he, and expect no difference whatsoever in presentation until some of the Ankh-Morpork female Dwarves decide to start occasionally braiding their beards and decorating their armor. It’s an ongoing scandal. Monstrous Regiment has a young girl in a region besieged by war pretend to be a boy to sign up for the draft and find her brother and soon discovers she’s not the only one in such a predicament.

The Silver Arrow, Lev Grossman

An interesting middle grade book where a young girl wishes for something interesting to happen for her birthday. Her wealthy, eccentric, rarely seen uncle shows up with an actual steam engine that turns out to take her and her brother on a journey to help animals find their homes as habitat destruction and global warming are pushing them out. The book presents it all in a much kinder and gentler manner than I phrased it there, though.

The Trial, Franz Kafka

Gotta admit, I was sort of disappointed by this one. I’m used to Kafka feeling a little bit like a weird dream, but it was amped up here with the protagonist going from knowing nothing about the secret trials he’s undergoing to understanding and complying with the rules immediately. And the threat was never exactly present? I guess it felt more confusing than absurd to me, and I’m someone who usually appreciates the absurd.

A Hat Full of Sky, Terry Pratchett

I’m enjoying the Tiffany Aching books, even though I’m not sure how much they add to the Discworld cannon or the witches. Here Tiffany has finally been apprenticed out to a witch, and meets other apprentice witches and the apparently universal torture of middle-school-aged kids. At the same time a hiver, a disembodied spirit, hones in on and tries to take over Tiffany and she must use deep magic and strength to fight back.

Fuzz: When Nature Breaks the Law, Mary Roach

Mary Roach is always a good read, and this is an interesting one about how to interact with animals that are not going to understand or respect human laws – especially as we think through trying to rewild places and protect predators, while also sprawling out further and further. It’s not as light -hearted as the title would lead you to believe, as a good chunk of the book is on how to deal with animals that are hunting humans or monkeys accidentally injuring or killing people with their antics. But interesting none the less and still an irreverent and humorous, if not exactly funny read.

Hummingbird Salamander, Jeff Vandermeer

I’m not sure I fully understood this book, but it’s definitely stuck with me and I’ve found myself thinking about it. It takes place in a not so distant future where a corporate security consultant has been identified by the daughter of an oligarch who has become an ecovigilante, desperate to save as many species as she can through any means necessary. She communicates through taxidermied animals, including two extinct animals created just for this book, a hummingbird and a salamander.

Going Postal, Terry Pratchett

You know what I like abut the Moist von Lipwig books? They made Discworld fun again. This is the first of those three books, and Lipwig, a con man, has had his life spared by Ventinari if he’ll take on the roll of revitalizing the post office. This is harder than he thought it would be, and he has to fight against bureaucratic inertia and the shadowy consortium who run the Clacks towers (semaphore-telegraph hybrids in the Disc.)

Peaces, Helen Oyeyemi

I love Oyeyemi’s writing style, and her ability to create an entirely unreal and real feeling dreamscape so quickly and easily. It’s nearly impossible to capture what her books are actually about, and this one doesn’t even have a fairy tale hook to hang onto. But it does involve very smart ferrets, a train that travels a mysterious route with a mysterious financier who can never get off, and a man who not everyone can perceive and who can infect others with this ailment as well.

Wintersmith, Terry Pratchett

After Tiffany accidentally jumps into a Morris dance welcoming the incoming winter, she inadvertently causes the Wintersmith to fall in love with her, for him to try to become a man, and causes herself to start to become the Goddess of Spring. It creates a lot of problems.

Under a White Sky: The Nature of the Future, Elizabeth Kolbert

Elizabeth Kolbert, also the author of The Sixth Extinction, talks about the ways we as humans have inadvertently caused disasters when trying to fix something else, how we may be doing so in the future, and the desperate need to fix some pretty bad things. The fixes range from the relatively familiar – trying to breed hardier and more heat resistant coral might have some unintended consequences, but it’s not out of the realm of things we’ve done before – to very new and with huge potential to destroy the world. With what we know of how bacteria and viruses can share with each other and between species, releasing CRISPR altered organisms into an ecosystem could reverberate in ways we can’t imagine, and seeding the sky with reflective particles is playing with forces we barely understand now. Kolbert presents things very fairly, and is unsparing about the consequences of doing nothing, but my takeaway was still being terrified of what the future holds.

Making Money, Terry Pratchett

It would be interesting to see how much of the modern world Ankh-Morpork would take on if Pratchett had lived longer and Discworld had kept going. Von Lipwig is tapped again to take charge of the main Ankh-Morpork bank and the Mint, and yanks the city-state off of the gold standard.

The Unthinkable: Who Survives When Disaster Strikes—and Why, Amanda Ripley

This was an interesting book, exploring how people react in different disasters, the psychology that leads to everything from acting heroic to freezing in place, and how to train yourself to react better in different situations. It was odd, though, how….. conservative? Randian?… of a view it had. Why does Ripley feel the need to explain why people might help others or act heroic, and find some way it would ‘evolve’ and perpetuate one’s genes? Why do we need to justify help rather than try to explain why some people might be selfish and ignore others? It is my deep wish to excise this belief that selfishness is the natural order from our worldview.

Unseen Academicals, Terry Pratchett

There was a lot going on in this one, and not enough time to explain it. Pratchett has been playing with these themes of who gets to be people with the vampires and trolls and werewolves and dwarves and different cities of the Disc, but we’re running out of known species, so now there’s an orc without a lot of explanation. And then also there’s a game of foot-the-ball that’s a stand in for soccer but seems to be played very differently. It’s played in the seedier corners of Ankh-Morpork and it’s “illegal” with a wink and a nod, but the Patrician wants to formalize it for *waves hands* reasons. And this is …. Bad? Maybe? And also the wizards have to play? And the orc is good at football? And there’s also a subplot about dwarf fashion shows and another about following your dreams. Just way too much to follow.

Ten Low, Stark Holborn

I liked it, but it’s just Firefly sort of mixed up and redone with a feminist and queered twist. There’s a former soldier for the Browncoats Free Limits that fought against unification with the Alliance the Accord, and Reavers Seekers praying on any damaged ship that gets caught out in the open. It all takes place on a frontier planet. The Accord was experimenting on making child soldiers. It’s fun, and there’s a place for this sort of reimagining, but own that that’s what you’re doing, you know?

Project Hail Mary, Andy Weir

Okay, first things first. I just get so frustrated and sad when a book that is taking place in the here and now has an upcoming disaster and they say this could cause mass extinction, and be devastating for the planet. Hey, you don’t have to manufacture a disaster. We’re in the sixth extinction right now. Everyone needs to get that!

Taking the book as it is, though, I’m not saying this book is flawless, or even that it 100% makes sense in it’s own world, but it is fun and really creative. The alien race we encounter is a really interesting imagining of how a completely different intelligent life form could develop, and the alien fungus eating away at the son is imaginative, too. And noticeably, some of the edges have been softened from the main character, who is still sort of Mark Whatney but not quite as smug and abrasive. What I like about Andrew Weir is that even when it doesn’t always work he does seem to want to improve and develop as a writer, and I appreciate that.

Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente

I love the current trend of taking apart folk tales and putting them back together. Here, Valente redoes the Russian tale of The Death of Koschei the Deathless reinterpreting it to give Marya much more agency, and to tell the tale through the transformation of Russia from the Tsars through the Revolution and through World War II. And it brings in deep cuts from Russian tales, too. It was a completely entrancing read, too, and I could barely put it down.

Something Wicked This Way Comes, Ray Bradbury

I love Ray Bradbury, and this is one of my favorite stories. It has plenty of actually scary parts, and a creepy carnival can be pretty creepy, but Bradbury is also just a master of creating atmosphere from the very beginning. This has got to be up there with We Have Always Lived in the Castle with how creepy you can make something feel when nothing is actually happening.

I Shall Wear Midnight, Terry Pratchett

Tiffany Aching is growing up. She’s officially a witch now, back at home and taking care of her people on the Chalk, still followed by the tiny but ferocious faerie folk, the Nac Mac Feegles. The only trouble is that her former close friend the Baron, has now been engaged to someone else and Tiffany is definitely not jealous or upset about it. Oh, that, and also the spirit of the ur-witch hunter, able to fill people with hatred and fear of the other, seems to have been summoned and wants to possess Tiffany.

The Monkey Wrench Gang, Edward Abbey

I’ve been thinking a lot about this book lately, and the general need to recapture some of the radicalism the environmental movement had before. Abbey’s book about a group that starts out by burning down billboards in the dead of night and progresses to taking out construction sites and bridges out west is still an interesting artifact of its time, a strange, very American mix, of libertarian hippie leftie individualism, and a bit of a call to do more. Gender and Native politics in it are still weird, though.

The Ex Hex, Erin Sterling

Okay, rom coms are usually not my thing, but I loved reading this book! It was very fun, I didn’t have to think too deeply about anything, and I breezed through it. At 19, brokenhearted new witch Vivienne has drunkenly cursed the scion of a magical family, Rhys Penhallow. At first it appears nothing has happened, but when he comes back to town several years later and there are both mishaps and pratfalls, it looks like the curse might have taken affect and they’ll have to fix the curse in between bad-idea hook ups. Not usually my cup of tea at all, but this was just so fun I couldn’t help but like it.

The Ministry for the Future, Kim Stanley Robinson

Back to my normal fare. This is about a UN Ministry set up to speak for future generations and stop climate change, the Ministry for the Future. It is both tragic and hopeful at the same time. It shows the possibilities of things actually changing – although some of it involved so much coming together as a society that it made me want to cry – and of governments doing the right thing both out of long term self interest and to save others. And in this incredibly optimistic book nothing happens until we still have degrees of warming and deadly heat waves, and even then not until we have ecological groups destroying fossil fuel plants and any planes still using fossil fuels. It was a really good book, and I would encourage every one to read it if only to think more creatively about what political and economic fixes might look like, but it still left me feeling defeated.

Persephone Station, Stina Leicht

Multiplanet corporations, fierce but fair bar owner/powerful crime boss, a bunch of misfit mercenaries, self-aware AIs, and hidden species. What more could you ask for in a sci-fi book? It had lots of twists and was a bit hard to follow, but once I got my bearings this was a fun book to read. My main complaint is that the last third is a long, extended action sequence which I find very hard to follow in print. It’d probably make a good movie or miniseries, though.

Space Opera, Catherynne M. Valente

I have had this on my TBR list for a while and was very surprised to see it was by the same person who wrote Deathless. The writing and tone don’t feel the same at all. This one is more Dr. Who + Hitchiker’s Guide + Eurovision as humanity finds out they have to compete in a singing contest that determines which sentient species are sentient enough to be allowed to exist.

Snuff, Terry Pratchett

Okay, now this one definitely has a late season feel to it. Sam Vimes takes a vacation to his wife’s family’s country estate, but his vacation is interrupted as he finds out that crimes are underfoot. Pratchett again has introduced a species, Goblins, just to introduce the issue of whether they should have rights (as I’m writing this I realize it would be easier if Discworld just had a sentience sing off, too). But we haven’t seen the Goblins before so it’s hard to get as invested or understand all the issues. And there were too many cameos from the characters we see in Ankh-Morpork stories, with their storylines unresolved. It’d make sense if this were a tv series and they were under contract, but in a book they felt very out of place and unnecessary.

A Cafecito Story, Julia Alvarez

This is a short book, less than 100 pages, and it’s in English and Spanish alongside each other. Julia Alvarez is a Dominican author who’s written some lovely and moving books about the Dominican Republic, and this short story talks about the importance of the connection to land through the tale of a Nebraskan former farmer who rediscovers the joy of farming on a Dominican coffee farm. It’s short and sweet.

And that’s it for this year! Happy reading everyone for 2022.

Ten Low

Ten Low, Stark Holborn

The thing about Ten Low is that it’s a perfectly serviceable science fiction book. Well written, well-paced. It was gripping and I read through it pretty quickly. It also seemed like Holborn likes Firefly a lot. Not that I blame them; it’s a great show.

Ten Low is firmly in the space western genre, and the story takes place on an impoverished frontier desert planet. Ten Low is a medic on the run from her past and making up for it by keeping tally of the lives she saves, when a crash puts her on course to save a highly trained and enhanced child soldier, General Gabriella Ortiz, who is now unknowingly being hunted by her own side. Along the way we pass through the cast of characters we might expect in this sort of thing: low-key powerful bar owners, moralistic outlaws, sadistic warlords, and the like, while Low’s past unfolds and we learn more about the otherworldly spirits chasing her.

That might read as critical, but it’s not. The book is really well crafted and Holborn is a talented writer. Those tropes are there for a reason and there’s nothing wrong with hitting the expected notes if you do it well and keep it entertaining. So I enjoyed the book a lot. But it did feel very familiar. It wasn’t just the usual space western story. This book was very Firefly. The General fights for the Alliance the Accord. Low was arrested as part of the Browncoats Free Limits (FL) fighting against unification. The General was taken as a young child as the Accord was doing experiments on talented young children. The planet even has the Seekers, who come after damaged ships and strike fear into even the most hardened travelers. Ten Low just expands on this universe with some supernatural elements thrown in and the whole thing has been given a queer and feminist twist.

What’s most surprising about all this is that I didn’t see that comparison anywhere, even though the book doesn’t try to hide that it’s got other influences. Holborn, and the book jacket, referred to the book as Mad Max: Fury Road meets Cowboy Bebop meets Dune. And I haven’t seen Mad Max, but I know the other two pretty well, and the book is not that. It’s Firefly. It’s Firefly, and it’s fun, so just own it.

Under a White Sky

Under a White Sky, Elizabeth Kolbert

The End of Nature is one of the most poignant books I’ve ever read. Throughout the book, Bill McKibben demonstrates that there is absolutely no place we can go that has not been altered, probably irretrievably so, by modern humanity. No matter how protected or remote it is, we have altered the chemical make up of the air, soil, and water through our massive industrial project. With climate change this is even more evident, as we have changed the entire climate and weather systems of the globe. Each year we hear more of this, from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, the absence of ‘quiet’ in the world, and the spread of microplastics to every spot on the globe.

Elizabeth Kolbert’s newest book, Under a White Sky, takes on examples of the many ways humans have altered the environment, intentionally or not, and the ways we are now trying to fix it – although we may not be able to predict the consequences. The book covers numerous examples of this, with all of them leading to the most massive and visible ways we could change the climate, through geoengineering projects.

Kolbert’s book is a fascinating exploration of how we have changed the world dramatically and then go about trying to save it. She examines the ways that we had altered the Great Lakes and Mississippi watersheds, and how we now need to alter it further to stop the spread of invasive species such as Asian carp. When Chicago was a growing metropolis the Chicago river was thick with sewage. We built a new drainage canal and rerouted the sewage, changing the watersheds and creating a connection where there never was one before. Now we need fish barriers and electrocuted water to stop species from spreading between the two. We also need barriers to ensure other domestic fish don’t get into the electrocuted water. It was one of only many times in the book I considered this Simpsons clip. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LuiK7jcC1fY

Other entries deal with how to preserve species that we are driving through extinction. Some through relatively well-understood, if ambitious processes. Going from pond to pond in Devil’s Hole to gather pupfish, for instance, trying to breed hardier coral reefs and thinking of ways to shade and protect the Great Barrier Reef from heat induced bleaching events. (Although even then the highly acidic ocean water will be a problem.) These are testimonies to what some of us will do to save other species, even if we can never truly preserve what we’re destroying. With Styrofoam breeding shelves and climate controlled indoor pools, we have only a poor simulacrum of pupfish habitat. With the Great Barrier Reef, as Kolbert points out, to save a mere one-tenth of it we will have to shade, protect, and reseed with hardy coral species an area the size of Switzerland.

These technologies in themselves are experimental and no one knows exactly what the result would be – can we actually recreate a reef by crossbreeding new species? But from here we move to the truly unknown. Genetically engineering not only for agriculture but for control of nature. Kolbert begins with an anecdote that made me squirm, of sending away for a genetic engineering kit from Odin and creating drug-resistant E. coli  in her kitchen. CRISPR has revolutionized what we think might be possible with genetic engineering and we now have the capability to think of engineering into a species its own self-destruction – such as with Anopheles mosquitos – or minimizing what makes them such a threat, a project currently underway with cane toads in Australia. What is actually quite terrifying to think of here is what really happens when all of this gets out into nature. It’s hard enough to limit the spread of genes in our highly controlled agricultural environment. And every day we learn so much more about how there is interaction between the genes of different species – hell, of different kingdoms of life. What are we unleashing into the world?

And then, of course, we come to geoengineering. The ways to fight climate change with geoengineering also run the gamut. Some of them, such as carbon sequestration, seem an engineering and financial challenge but not necessarily destructive in any new and terrifying way. Simply put, the idea is that need to scrub carbon from the atmosphere and then store it somewhere. This could be done through planting billions to a trillion trees and then cutting them down, storing the carbon, and starting the process over again, or by either capturing emissions at their source or scrubbing them from the atmosphere and then storing the carbon somewhere. Unfortunately, Kolbert’s tour of a carbon-intensive greenhouse not withstanding, the only current funding for CCS (Carbon Capture and Storage) right now is to use it for enhanced oil recovery, which doesn’t seem to be much long term help. Alas, we just don’t drink enough soft drinks.

The experts and engineers Kolbert interviews address some of the moral concern over CCS, namely the argument that if we think there’s a way out without changing anything no one will invest in clean energy and decreasing our emissions. Sadly, I agree with the perspective presented here that it’s too late for that sort of concern. I did feel that investing in CCS was a distraction and excuse 20 years ago; now we’re in a desperate situation and there’s no way to avoid going over 2C without removing carbon from the atmosphere. Carbon doesn’t disappear immediately, after all, so anything less than zero emissions means that the amount of CO2 will increase for several years. No, the problem is one of money and space – it’s hard to see how we could ever have enough removal on a practical level to offset our emissions. I’m all for planting One Trillion Trees, but it would take an area the size of the continental United States + Alaska to do so, and we’d need to stop deforestation immediately. And even that can only capture ¼-1/3 of all of our emissions so far over their lifetime. Trees live a long time. The other technology she mentions is either injecting carbon into basalt formations where the carbon becomes stone, or spreading crushed basalt to absorb carbon. Sounds great but again, to remove one billion tons of carbon would take three billion tons of crushed basalt. Kolbert contrasts this with the 8 billion tons of coal we mine and ship each year; she does not contrast it with the 43 billion tons of CO2 we currently emit. I don’t say this to discourage us from trying everything to lower the amount of carbon in the atmosphere, just to share how exceedingly pessimistic I am that anything other than massive change in energy production and how we live today will save us from an extra 20 feet of sea level rise.

Then we get into the real geoengineering technologies, the ones that frighten me. Shooting aerosols into the sky, for instance, to mimic particles from a volcano, increase reflectivity, and decrease the temperature. This massive-scale engineering is terrifyingly irresponsible and won’t solve all the problems of global warming. Those who are working on it stress the unthinkable catastrophe that would be 4-5C temperature rise (in the realm of possibility), or even a ‘mere’ 3C. And I agree with that. But as Kolbert points out, one of the challenges with this is that it would be, of course, massively expensive – far more expensive than just halting fossil fuel subsidies – and that if we ever stopped spraying particulates into the air all the warming would happen at once. Each time we spray it is a very short term solution. There is the question of what an increase in microparticles would do to the air. There is the fact that we don’t know exactly how much this would decrease temperatures or what this massive addition would be to our weather patterns, but it seems unlikely it would have no effect. And there is the fact that such incredibly high levels of carbon are destabilizing in and of themselves. The die offs of coral are partly from heat induced bleaching, but part of the disruption of reef and ocean ecosystems is that calcium carbonate can’t be formed in acidic oceans. Which means no reefs and no shell fish.

Kolbert seems to be wrestling with what to think of these projects. She wrote The Sixth Extinction; she has borne witness to the destruction we have wrought; she knows the threats of global warming and the need to do something. She also knows how much damage humans have done in the need to do something. She raises this uneven track record with David Keith, one of the physicists working on injecting reflective particles, and he says that is her own bias showing. As an example he mentions that people brought in a beetle to deal with tamarisk, an invasive species in the American Southwest that seems to be doing well. It’s a shame Kolbert didn’t dig into this offhand comment further because the beetle is now threatening nesting habits of endangered native birds.

What’s really depressing, though, is that in some cases the easiest thing really would be to just stop making the problem worse. Kolbert shares some examples of the potential negative impacts of gene editing and that sometimes the best thing is to do nothing. This is true, and something our species is bad at. But in terms of global warming in particular the right answer is to do less: drill less, build less, drive less, and have less. Rather than turning the sky white with particulates, we could have less stuff, use more public transportation, stop fossil fuel transportation. We would have to rethink much of society, yes, but it wouldn’t be impossible. Let us hope for and work for a world where biking more and having a slightly smaller house isn’t more unthinkable than changing the color of the sky.

2021 Books in Review – Pt. 1

Well, here we are, halfway two-thirds of the way through 2021. How’s everyone holding up? It feels nice to know we’ve made it so far, even though it all seems to be starting over again. And honestly, that’s why I’m getting this up so late (my apologies). After thinking we might be able to get out of the house again, maybe even visit my (fully vaxxed, Democratic) family in Florida sometime, *waves hands* all this happened. And I am just so tired of it all.

But since apparently we’re just going to keep on trucking away through our own pandemic version of Groundhog Day until the FDA authorizes vaccines for kids and we have a vaccine mandate, I may as well get back to it. So onto something happy. If there’s one thing I can keep up, it’s my reading habit. So let’s go ahead, shall we? Below the books I read from Jan. – June of this year.

Notes from an Apocalypse: A Personal Journey to the End of the World and Back, Mark O’Connell

This was a surprisingly hopeful book! It is O’Connell’s attempt to grapple with the world we are bringing about through climate change, while also having and raising children. He does this in part by looking at how others are handling coming catastrophe, and taking to task those who seem to want to save only a few or retreat to individual bunkers rather than trying to save humanity and community. It doesn’t have easy answers or a great reason to get out of bed in the morning, but it does reinforce why we should still want to do what we can. 

Riot Baby, Tochi Onyebuchi

And to the complete other end, a tale of pain and power and why someone might feel the only option is to burn it all down before we can start again. Ella is a young child in Compton and then Harlem with extraordinary hidden powers, and her brother, Kev, is born the day of the Rodney King riots and ends up trapped in the path to prison. It is an intense, passionate, angry book, pulsing with the wrongness of the world.

Humankind: A Hopeful History, Rutger Bregman

Bregman wants to rewrite the story we have been told. The story that insists that we are all in competition, and that people are actually bad and must constantly fighting our terrible nature. He argues that for the most part, humanity only exists because we are wired for cooperation and trust. He might be too willing to wave away some of the ways people can be terrible, but overall I found his argument compelling and, yes, hopeful. And possibly the best argument he had is that whether or not its true, life is better if we act as if people are good and can be trusted. So much of our pain is caused by systems assuming the opposite, and being wired towards punishment and selfishness instead of care and cooperation.

The Last Continent, Terry Pratchett

 I love Discworld, but unless you’re a completionist (which I am) you can probably just skip the Rincewind ones. In this one Rincewind ends up in the Counterweight Continent, an Australia analogue, and has been selected by fate to help bring the rains back. The Senior Wizards also need to find Rincewind so they can learn the Librarian’s name. The plots never really coalesce, and the central conceit of our cowardly hero Rincewind is wearing thin. There are much better Discworld books to read instead.

Barn 8, Deb Olin Unferth

Wow. I don’t want to write too much because it’s best to go into this book without knowing exactly what you’re getting into. But this book is an absurd delight that includes narration from a chicken’s perspective about their religious beliefs and a massive heist from radical animal rights’ activists, while at the same time seriously opining about coping with loss and grief and giving a searing critique of industrial farming. And it pulls all of it off. You should probably go read it right now.

The Age of Surveillance Capitalism: The Fight for a Human History at the New Frontier of Power, Shoshana Zuboff

Zuboff has written an incredibly well researched tome about the extent of surveillance, and how we have all turned over our privacy and our power for a bit of convenience for a game we really want to play to pass the time. She highlights that none of this is inevitable and companies are constantly monetizing our data for the obvious reason that it is making them lots of money, not because there is no other way. She falls down some in trying to say, though, that this is something new and sinister. Nope, this is just the logical next step for capitalism always doing what capitalism does.

The Church of Marvels, Leslie Parry

On the surface this is typical novel about underdogs in the late 1800s. Taking place in New York and Coney Island it shifts between several perspectives and the challenges anyone, especially women, faced at the time. The plot centers around a sister who has gone missing after their family’s Coney Island sideshow burns down and the other sister’s search. And in broad strokes it follows the pattern you’d assume, but in the details it has some surprising and intriguing twists and turns. I liked it way more than I thought I would from the first few chapters.

Jingo, Terry Pratchett

The Watch is everything you really want from a Discworld book. In these, Pratchett explores his larger themes of politics, the need to have a code, and the sins of those who would control others, even for the greater good. An island pops up between Ankh-Mopork and Djelibeybi, and though this scrap of rock has no use and was never there before, partisans from both sides see the benefits of claiming it for King and Country. Hijinx and philosophizing ensue.

Land of Love and Drowning, Tiphanie Yanique

I hadn’t really thought of “sprawling multigenerational magical realist nationalist novel” as a genre before, but I guess it sort of is? This certainly fits that genre as Yanique’s story takes place at the hand off of the current US Virgin Islands from the Dutch to the United States. It primarily centers on two sisters, one considered so beautiful she bewitches and controls men, the other with a fierce connection to the islands, and their lives after their father dies at sea, their fortune is lost, and as the people of the Virgin Islands go through the years after becoming a US territory. It has some pretty uncomfortable family relationships, but was a well woven story and on a history I didn’t know much about.

All the Birds in the Sky, Charlie Jane Anders

This was a surprising book, that somehow both played with familiar tropes and managed to have so much unexpected in the storyline as two childhood friends are pulled to technology or magic. In the world Anders has created, in the near future, magic is real and not entirely hidden, although not always believed, and technology has become advanced enough that those in the most cutting edge research may as well be magicians. And both have the power to save or destroy the world, and the utmost belief in themselves.

Carpe Jugulum, Terry Pratchett

Let us take a moment to say good bye to the witches, in their last book of Discworld. It’s not too surprising, as Pratchett did seem to be running out of what to do with Granny Weatherwax. But here she gets her hardest enemy yet, as the new, modern vampires come down from Uberwald to take over Lancre. It’s just a shame that Pratchett seemed to be setting up a new trio of witches that never had a chance to take their place.

Rooted in the Earth: Reclaiming the African American Environmental Heritage, Dianne D. Glave

I was a bit disappointed in this book. The issue for me is that it only focused on ways that African Americans may have interacted with the earth before, but only in the ways so many groups did – until a fairly short time ago, no human populations were as disconnected from the natural world as we are now. This book didn’t seem to explore any particular spiritual or philosophical connection that would suggest an African American Environmental Heritage, just an acknowledgement that people used the natural world in a variety of ways in the past.

The Fifth Elephant, Terry Pratchett                                                                        

More than halfway through the Discworld series, it’s clear that Pratchett is starting to get a little restless. The last City Watch book had the Watch sent off to Djelibeybi for a war; this one has Vimes assigned to a diplomatic mission in Uberwald. That’s okay, though, since it’s still fun to go along on this journey for him. This one has the Watch explore the tensions between tradition and liking tradition but wanting change, of what is a dwarf when they’re not underground, and even an exploration of traditional and gender.

Dear Life, Alice Munro

I’m not much on the slice-of-life character studies that were popular with modern short stories for a while there, but Munro is a master of the form. If you’re going to read any of them, she’s probably where to go. This is a collection of stories where seemingly small decisions have life-altering consequences, even if not seen at the moment, and how decisions have far reaching repercussions for others we may never even see.

Great Issues in American History, Vol. 3, 1864-1957, Richard Hofstadter

This is a simple book that everyone should have to read. This volume shares key documents – editorials, speeches, book excerpts – from key issues in America’s History starting in Reconstruction to right after WWII. They are presented in a straightforward manner with little to no editorializing. It was fascinating to read about how issues were discussed, especially the racial issues right after the Civil War, and the push for progressive changes in the early 1900s. There are so many other ways our history could have gone!

Orlando, Virginia Woolf

For such a widely heralded book, I found it very disappointing. Orlando is the story of a wealthy, titled, British gentleman who wakes up at a young age as a woman instead, and lives for another 300 years as such. There is some interesting commentary right when the change happens, but otherwise, it’s just a tale of a wealthy dilettante and how they went through the world (with no one commenting on the age or gender thing.) I didn’t quite understand the following it has.

The Truth, Terry Pratchett

One of the ‘Industrial Revolution” series, this one features the inventing of the printing press in Ankh-Mopork, and newspapers and tabloids and all the good and bad that go along with them. This one is a bit more ambiguous than other Discworld novels – Pratchett usually isn’t shy about spelling out his morals – but was still consistently fun and engaging.

The Division Bell Mystery, Ellen Wilkinson

Wilkinson herself, a strong Labour politician who led worker’s marches and one of the first woman MPs, is fascinating. This book – one of two novels she wrote between civil service positions – was a bit hard to follow. It works well enough as a murder mystery, but my goodness there is a lot of parliamentary knowledge one needs to follow along.

American Hippo, Sarah Gailey

I really want to like Sarah Gailey’s books more than I do. This is about an alternate history where an absolutely true and bonkers idea to breed hippos in Louisiana was followed through, and there are hippo ranchers and riders, and a major feral hippo problem in the bayous. It’s the wild west but in Louisiana, and there are hippos. I should love it. Gailey is good at the world building, and the short stories included in this edition were my favorite parts, but I think could do better with the plot. I’d love for her to write a miniseries or a book of connected stories, like I, Robot.

Thief of Time, Terry Pratchett

While I love other series more, Death is one of my favorite Discworld characters and I really enjoy the idea of our belief making anthropomorphized abstract concepts real (something echoed in American Gods and Good Omens). This one features Death and Time, so of course I love it. In this book the nameless Auditors, always upset by change and chaos, try to trap Time and end humanity. It was one of my favorites of the series.

Fardwor, Russia, Oleg Kashin

I generally enjoy abstract Soviet and post-Soviet satire but this one may have been a bit obscure even for me. Kashin is a journalist who was targeted by some of the oligarchs after a mean blog comment, and saw no action taken after proof was provided of who was behind his incredibly violent beating. He ended up going into exile, and writing this book. The book isn’t written for the story so much as to take down all parts of Russian society. This satire was just a bit too full of deep cuts for me-apparently, almost all the characters map onto someone in Russian politics or culture, and even the title is mocking one of Dmitry Medvedev’s first tweets. I imagine it’s hilarious if you can identify all the people and moments he’s discussing.

The Origins of Totalitarianism, Hannah Arendt

I hadn’t read Arendt before, and I have to say I was surprised and a bit disappointed. There were some really insightful pieces, don’t get me wrong. But overall I didn’t think it really captured well, the origins of totalitarianism. Arendt’s explanation for anti-semitism bordered on anti-semitism as well, and while I thought it did well describing a definition of totalitarianism, the origins and explanations weren’t there. All in all, I think I got more from quotes of the book I’ve read elsewhere than from the book itself.

The Last Hero, Terry Pratchett

We finished with The Witches earlier, and now we’re at the last Rincewind book. It was better than the other Rincewinds, with the aging Cohen the Barbarian and his elderly band of followers heading off to fight against their destiny ad, well, death itself. Not my favorite of the Discworld books, but a fitting send off.

How to Avoid a Climate Disaster: The Solutions We Have and the Breakthroughs We Need, Bill Gates

Bill Gates doesn’t get it. Not really. That’s what I was left with after reading this book. He is so focused on additional technological research without recognizing that we have most – not all, but most – of the technology we need, but we lack a) the political will, and b) a knowledge that everything will have to change. We cannot continue to live as we have been. We may have to have occasional blackouts. We will need far more public transportation, or less travel, rather than better electric cars. We may need to stop just in time manufacturing. We cannot engineer our way to the same lifestyle. The only alternative to major change and fairly miniscule sacrifice is hundreds of millions of displaced people, devastating droughts, wildfires, and storms, and the extinction of most species on earth.

The Time Traveler’s Guide to Medieval England: A Handbook for Visitors to the Fourteenth Century, Ian Mortimer

And on the other end of the nonfiction spectrum, this was a delightful book. I love learning more about how, just, regular life has worked in different societies and situations, and that is where this book focuses. What would an average person be wearing? What did they eat? Why were colors restricted to different classes? It was really easy to pick up and put down, and a lot of fun.

News of the World, Paulette Jiles

This was a fine book if taken just as itself, but it deals with the American West after the Civil War, White settlers, and Indigenous peoples, and so this story can never be told on its own. Captain Jefferson Kyle Kidd who goes from town to town reading newspapers, ends up tasked with bringing a White girl back to her aunt and uncle. She was captured by the Kiowa on a raid, and her family was killed. Now, only a year later, the young girl is fully assimilated and not willing to return to the world of the Whites but he must deliver her through this dangerous journey. And yes, this happened, but the book as a whole plays into the narrative of the dangerous tribes and the White settlers trying to live in these surroundings, with no acknowledgement of what was being done to Indigenous peoples and their children and, I just don’t think you can tell one story from that in isolation.

Midnight Bargain, C.L. Polk

Jane Austen meets witches. I think it was good for what it was, but I am not the biggest fan of Jane Austen and novels of awkwardness and etiquette and the characters biting their tongues the whole way through. Adding magic only made it a little more bearable. However, this was very much an issue of it not being my thing. If Jane Austen + Witches  + a better Darcy is your thing, you’ll probably really like this book.

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants, Robin Wall Kimmerer

Robin Wall Kimmerer is a botanist and an enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. This was an absolutely beautiful book on considering a completely different way of being with each other and with nature than our WEIRD colonialist culture. Wall Kimmerer explores the concepts of a gifting culture than a market based culture, the idea of how we interact with nature, and how we can consider humans as an actual part of the ecology, in a very authentic way that also brought me, at least, hope for alternative futures.

The Good Lord Bird, James McBride

This was a strange and fascinating book. Onion is an enslaved boy who ends up being ‘liberated’ and taken in by abolitionist John Brown, and, as a slight child, being mistaken for and temporarily living as a girl. It does not glorify anyone in this novel, other than possibly Harriet Tubman who appears for a brief moment, and showcases the strange existence of the western territories at the time. It also really highlights the internal and external contradictions that existed for slaves trying to survive, for slavers, and for abolitionists during this time period. I’m not sure I fully understood everything in it, but I did get sucked into reading it and may do so again.

Ready Player Two, Ernest Cline

If you read Ready Player One –which I really liked!—you already read this book. It’s kinda sorta the same. I did think that Cline tried to address some of the complaints from the first one, and address the criticisms that exist of Jobs and of, well, white, male, gamers currently. But it did feel a bit like he had a checklist of correctness to get through and then on to the story, which was sort of the same story. I do give points for trying, though! At least he’s doing that.

The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories, Angela Carter

This collection of short stories puts twists on classic tales. In the first, “The Bloody Chamber”, a young woman marries a wealthy marquis with a locked room and a dark secret, much like Bluebeard, but is saved from her fate at the last moment by her mother. Others are reimaginings of the way Beauty and the Beast may go, or darker versions of “The Snow Child.” In a red riding hood twist the grandmother is a werewolf who had tried to kill and eat little red. It was a very short book, and I never quite grasped the tone it was going for. Overall, not my favorite in the retelling stories genre.

Parable of the Sower, Octavia Butler

I have somehow not read a lot of Octavia Butler before, but I’d been meaning to read the Earthseed books for a while. It’s rather a harrowing read. Climate change has led to massive shortages, the country has started to collapse, and new powerful drugs and gangs lead to an incredibly dangerous life for anyone outside a walled city, and for refugees trying to get to Canada or Alaska. Lauren Olamina, young girl, is trying to lead a group of people in a new life, home, and philosophy/religion she has ‘found’ and written. It’s surprising how quickly I read it given how painful much of it is, but that’s what happens when you’re reading a master writer, I suppose.

Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

Circe was one of my absolute favorite books I read last year so of course I was going to pick up Song of Achilles next. Presented by Patroclus, this is the tale of Achilles, from childhood to death and somewhat beyond. I think I liked Circe more, but this was also a wonderful read. Miller plays with many of the same concepts in this, of how horrific the Greek heroes were, the whims of the Gods, and trying to make how one treats others actually matter in the story. She’s so good, and I love the way she presents these ancient tales.

White Tiger, Aravind Adiga

This was a very dark comedy about modern India, from a man who grew up in a poor village, had to give up his school scholarship to care for his family when his father died, became a driver, and eventually an incredibly wealthy entrepreneur by killing his boss and stealing his money. This isn’t a spoiler, the arc is shared early on and you’re just reading to learn about the journey. Surprisingly for a book with no redeeming characters, I really enjoyed reading this. It isn’t laugh-out-loud-funny, but it is darkly humorous, and is well put together.

The Brothers: John Foster Dulles, Allen Dulles, & Their Secret World War, Stephen Kinzer

It’s strange that as we’re going through this spate of taking down monuments and renaming things that no one has yet come for the Dulles brothers, two people who have done such a great amount of damage to the world. Seriously, it is astounding how much evil they did and how much of today’s horrors can be placed soundly at the feet of the Secretary of State at the beginning of the Cold War, and the first head of the CIA. I wonder what the United States would look like if we didn’t have a Secretary of State who had gone all in on the unholy fusion of Calvinist moralism and extreme economic right wing thought. I wonder what Latin America would look like if our Secretary of State and CIA head had not literally also worked for United Fruit. I wonder what Africa and Asia would look like if we didn’t have a CIA head who wanted to play at adventure, and a Secretary of State who could only look with Manichean eyes. Truly everyone should read this and understand the sins of our country and post WWII colonialism.

Piranesi, Susanna Clarke

This odd tale is significantly shorter than Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. And while that book was, for all its complexity, fairly straightforward in the telling, Piranesi is meant to throw you off track as you almost immediately realize things can’t be as they seem. Piranesi is a young man who lives in universe made up entirely of an infinitely large house, made up of strange statues, a handful of skeletons, and tides that flood some of the rooms. The only people there are him and the Other One, until evidence of a potential visitor shows up.  

The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion, Margaret Killjoy

The problem with this novella is that it was the start of a series, and it very much felt like that. It’s in a world where things have fallen apart even more than they have now, and in response even more people have joined groups of punks and anarchists trying to create their own societies. Also, sometimes they can call giant spirit animals to protect the city until those animals get out of hand. I didn’t dislike it, but it was very incomplete and felt like I was watching Episode 1 of a show, and also that the series opener was meant to be a two parter. Which is fine for a show, but I’m probably not going to binge read the series.

The Crimean War, Orlando Figes

Several years ago, when reading The Eyre Affair for the first time, I realized I basically new nothing about the Crimean War. I still only know a bit, but this very well researched and very long tome goes a long way in explaining the basic outlines of it, why it happened even though it didn’t really need to happen for anyone, and the way it fit in to European history between the revolutionary period of the mid- to late-1800s and the start of World War I.

The Amazing Maurice and His Enchanted Rodents, Terry Pratchett

This is labelled as one of his young adult books, but I will be honest, I didn’t notice much of a difference in style. I’m not knocking it, just scratching my head at how things get categorized. After eating some things behind the wizarding school in Ankh-Mopork, Unseen University, a cat and several rats become sentient. They set up with a young boy who plays the flute pulling a piper scam until finding a town where other rat catchers have already come up with a different, more damaging rat scam and unwittingly created a Rat King.

A History of What Comes Next, Sylvain Neuvel

Again the first in a series.  There are entities that always exist as two, never more (when they existed as more they always correct at some point), a human seeming mother and her daughter, always a genetic replica. They have nothing to guide them but their shared story, a talisman, and a knowledge that they are meant to take humanity to the stars. They are hunted always by a human seeming father and his sons, again, genetic replicas, angry at being stuck on this planet with humans, incredibly sadistic, and hunting down the women. This, too, ended the book with clearly much more to come, and I’m not sure yet if I’ll read the rest of the series.

The Once and Future Witches, Alix E. Harrow

Okay, this book definitely grew on me during the reading. It is in the early 1900s in New Salem, and a world where the strong days of witchery are gone, being burned down and destroyed by men now considered saints, although some small amounts of magic exist in the world, passed down in families. But these are mostly spells for cleaning laundry or healing cuts, not the strong magic that existed before. Three sisters come together and are able to call strong magic down again, magic which is tied tightly to the fight for the vote, fights for unions, and fights for equality.

Love in Colour, Bolu Babalola

This was such a charming book!  Babalola takes many different fairy tales, from many different cultures, primarily African and Middle Eastern, and plays with their characters and themes to create new tales. Some of the stories are in a fictional world, some taking place in our world today, always focused on tales of love. I am not a romantic, and it wouldn’t usually be my cup of tea, but this was so well done and so fun to read. If I could boil it down, for Babalola, love is about seeing and being seen to one another, and being able to be one’s true self even for just one person, and I can get behind that definition.

And that’s it for now! I’ll try to get back into regular reviews, and fill out the links here. Happy reading!

The Age of Surveillance Capitalism

The Age of Surveillance Capitalism: The Fight for a Human Future at the New Frontier of Power, Shoshana Zuboff

Did you use your cell phone today? Or access the internet? Play any games on your phone or tablet, visit any websites? If so, it is inevitable that you have been tracked, and that everything you did and everywhere you went, and quite possibly some of what you said, was logged and recorded and added to a vast database about you. This data can be sold to corporations, government, pr firms, campaign organizations, or anyone else who wants to spend the money for it. Nearly everywhere we go, and everything we do, certainly everything we buy, and everything we search, is saved and used to create a profile. These profiles are then continuously analyzed and searched for what can force each of us, as an individual, to take a specific action, and for what can make enough people worldwide take an action to make it worth all this money and effort.

And the thing is, at this current point in time, there’s really no avoiding it. You can try to opt out of cookies and review your terms of service, but we all know we’re mostly going to click. And this is understandable. I do it all the time and I spend a lot of time thinking about our bizarre surveillance political and economic system. The terms of service are created to be onerous. One Carnegie Mellon study in 2008 said that, “a reasonable reading of all the privacy policies that one encounters in a year would require 76 full workdays (emphasis mine).” (pg. 50) And that was 12 years ago; one can only imagine what it would be now. And even if you do review everything you sign it’s basically useless. Terms of service can be altered unilaterally, without notifying the users. (pg. 49)  Electronic Frontier Foundation showed that even users who opted out of things like Microsoft’s Cortana (as I have) “were still subject to capture of text, voice, touch input, web tracking, telemetry data, programs used, session duration, and that they claimed security updates wouldn’t work if users chose to limit location reporting.”* (pg. 164) Legal scholar Jonathan Mayer has shown that in many companies they’re simply lying to you (pg. 49) – privacy opt-outs and ad security promises are false, but there’s no real way for any of us to ‘see’ the tracking happening, so they won’t get caught.

Shoshana Zuboff’s political tome is about exploring this bizarre current reality. One where we have no privacy whatsoever. Where corporations have decided to mine every bit of ‘behavioral surplus’ as it’s called in the book, all the information they can, to figure out what sort of people we are. None of us are okay with this exactly – polls consistently show that 70-90% of people think there should be stricter privacy laws and don’t like how much they’re being tracked—but we’ve all shrugged our shoulders and just agreed to go along with it. And this devil’s bargain has been made for what, exactly? A bit more convenience on our end, or a way to kill the time with silly facebook quizzes or a freemium game on your phone. Yes, things like Google’s original search engine, and maps on our phones, really are amazing (although we did exist without them before), but let’s face it. Most of these tradeoffs are for something much smaller. And on the corporations’ end, they are creating this privacy free world in order to make something similarly small – better and more targeted ads. They hope that mining all of our data, tracking everything all of us do at any moment, can result in a .5% increase on actual purchases.

Those small increases in click throughs and purchases are big business, though, and Zuboff does an excellent job of detailing how it has creeped into everything that we do. Anything you use with internet connectivity is tracking you. We already know that about Google, Facebook, YouTube, our free games. We’re accustomed to the saying, “If you’re not paying for it, you’re the product.” But even things we are paying for are selling our data. Vizio’s Smart TVs were selling IP addresses and personal details (pg. 264), the children’s toy My Friend Cayla, which was banned in Germany as an illegal surveillance device, was selling data from kids’ searches (pg.. 265.) Roomba has a deal to sell floor plans of customers’ homes as part of metadata (pg. 235), and Sleep Number’s privacy policy says that they may share ‘de-identified’ data and have a note that they do not honor “do not track” notifications (pg. 236). This is everywhere.

And the corporations get away with this through a combination of public pressure, by creating a fear of missing out, creating a story of inevitability and pushing the uselessness of fighting it, and, simultaneously, pouring lots and lots of money into think thanks, lobbying, and political contributions. In short, they are putting a lot of resources into forcing this future that they have announced is inevitable. And of course, it is not. There is no reason that we need to monetize every piece of information about ourselves including our health and health habits. This is a reality that has been forced on us through human choice, not one that has somehow come together through ‘the market’. The invisible hand is almost always merely hidden.

This is an astoundingly well researched book, and people should at least read the sections on how pervasive and inescapable the current tracking is. There is just no way to avoid it if you are online at all. Sure, you can limit some of the tracking and privacy violations, but unless you’re building out a Linux server or trying to get a several years old cell phone, much of this is built in to the technology at this point. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight against it. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t opt out off whatever we can and advocate for stronger privacy laws. Zuboff also makes an excellent point that we have gotten here largely because decades of right wing propaganda have gotten us to the point where we are reflexively against any government oversight, but not corporate power. I think the tide is starting to turn there, but it is still very much the American ethos. We can’t restrict Google, Facebook, or other data miners because that would be overstepping power, but they can intrude on every aspect of our lives with no consequences because of freedom.

Where I disagree with Zuboff is in two main points. The first is that she spends far too much time concerned about corporations qua corporations using this information. There is a whole, huge, section, on Pokémon Go. Retailers apparently paid to have their locations turned into Pokémon hotspots, driving people to their store or restaurant, while the game was tracking the online and offline—thanks to location tracking—activities of everyone who played, which information could be sold back to retailers. This is presented as something scandalous and shocking but honestly, synergy between corporations and incorporating a popular game into your marketing is pretty standard. (See: Olympics, Super Bowl, World Series, etc.) And while I agree with Zuboff that the dream corporations have of identifying and monetizing every aspect of our life, while at the same time using it and a perfected psychology of nudges to lead us to every purchasing decision, pretty horrifying, I don’t think it’s as possible as corporations would believe. In the popular science of behavioral nudges the success still takes place along the edges. It’s a 2% response rate here, .7% there. Over 100 million people, say, that adds up to a major increase and significant profits. But it’s not the total behavior control people like B.F. Skinner, who is quoted often as a boogeyman here, dreamed about.

Zuboff argues that the problem is with how corporations are using this data, and that there’s no evidence that it is being used for government control. And this was after the 2016 elections in the United States! I do not like corporations having access to all of my data and it feels gross to know they are using it to better target advertisements. But my real problem is how it is then used by governments, or political campaigns, or by these corporations to shape the government. How perfected facial recognition will be used by China. How these corporations will happily invest in politicians and lobbying for policies that will destroy democracy if they get that extra .7% in profits. How their stance of only judging something that keeps people on their site and watching ads means that YouTube and Facebook will push the most radical views. Facebook is happy when people are using their site, and staying logged in, as that’s where they get their money. I’m sure they’d prefer it not be used to encourage genocide, but it’s not a huge problem for them if it happens. Google wants to gather the data of people who watch YouTube, and if going from child’s toy video to moon landing conspiracies keeps people on the site, so be it.

But Zuboff does not get into this. She spends so much time just asserting that this is happening, and that it is based on the beliefs of people like Skinner who thought we could all be programmed, and then assumes that we will all agree. But she never shares the actual examples of how it is destroying us. There is a quick data point at the end of the level of distrust that currently exists in Democracy, but those dots are never connected. It is not enough to tell people a bad thing that we have all accepted at some level is happening. You need to explain why it is bad enough to demand our attention. As I said, she quotes polls showing that between 70 and 90% of people feel uncomfortable with the current situation. But a quick look around shows they are not uncomfortable enough to do anything about it or to stop buying Amazon Alexa’s and Nest Doorbells and using Google Now. Convince us this needs attention! That it’s not just our generalized discomfort, but this is terrifying and has actual political and societal consequences.

Finally, Zuboff stumbles by repeatedly stating that Surveillance Capitalism is a new breed of capitalism, as distinct from traditional capitalism as totalitarianism was from other social movements. She wants us to truly believe it is not an extension of what we are used to in capitalism, not just more of the same. This may be to jolt us to action, since we’re so used to capitalism now. But I must say, it all feels very much the same to me. Consider,

“Surveillance capitalism unilaterally claims human experience as free raw material”. (Zubofff) and

“These labourers, who must sell themselves piece-meal, are a commodity, like every other article of commerce.” (The Communist Manifesto)

Or contrast,

“The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionizing the instruments of production, and thereby the relations of production….. uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation, distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones.” (The Communist Manifesto)

With the current doctrine of disruption that will ‘move fast and break things’ and then force us to deal with the results.

Or what I really thought as I read again and again how corporations seeking our data, and using our ‘behavioral surplus’  have commodified every part of our lives, gone against our stated values, and cared nothing for cultural or societal norms,

“All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned.” (The Communist Manifesto)

No matter what Zuboff says, this commodifying and monetizing of every aspect of our lives is what capitalism is ultimately about. It is capitalism drawing to its natural goal. And capitalism is as much an political system as an economic system, one that inevitably creates power structures and hierarchies and then needs to justify and protect those power hierarchies. The corporations will do everything possible to convince us we need them (we do not need all of these tools), that this is inevitable (this is not), and that the internet cannot exist without them (it can.) That everything that is happening is a result of our decisions, or the invisible hand, and rampant freedom, not very specific decisions they have made and what their algorithms have been to promote. But it is not too late. We can put in place privacy protections and start to take this back. We just have to choose to do so.

Riot Baby

riot baby

Riot Baby, Tochi Onyebuchi

This is an intense, passionate, and angry book, practically pulsing with the wrongness of the world.

It centers around the life and experience of two siblings. When we begin, Ella is a young child growing up in Compton, being raised by a single mother, whose baby brother, Kev, is born the day of the Rodney King riots. The book takes us through the swirl of that day from Ella’s perspective, the anger and fear and feeling of helplessness that pervades the community. From there we jump to Harlem, and see Kev and Ella both in school, and their mother working as a nurse in a hospital. The kids have to navigate the dangers of the neighborhood, whether gangs and bullies or, far more dangerous, cops constantly arresting or hassling young boys. Eventually Kev ends up in Rikers, where we see his perspective trying to survive in prison.

And through all of this Ella has a Thing, starting from when she is young. She’ll get nosebleeds, get seizures and see the future—from what will happen that afternoon, to the life of someone’s baby—visions that she can’t control. By the time we’re in Harlem her powers have grown so that she can control the weather and create snow inside the apartment, and manipulate the world around her to a certain extent. After letting her anger grow and get out of control to the point she almost ends up killing her mother, she disappears. We eventually learn that she has spent this time training herself and growing to immense power, all the while feeling and living the pain and anger and injustice racism inflicts on her family and other black people in America. Her Thing has expanded and she can both in control the world around her and project herself in the world around. Eventually she can visit Kev this way and take him with her to show him visions, and give him something outside of the prison.

The book doesn’t have much of a clear story or plot so much as a series of scenes for Ella or for Kev, short scenes that jump around and leave it to the reader to connect he plot and the timeline, but the story it tells of race and blackness in America is clear and easy to follow. It can be a bit hard to get a handle on the timeline in the book, as it seems to have recent murders and examples of police brutality discussed at times that don’t’ seem to go together with other events. But I would also say that the jumbling up of time, and the running together of the atrocities is likely intentional. After all, the same event seems to happen again. And again. And again. How can we separate the times?

Riot Baby eventually moves into the near future, with private prisons giving way to privately run parole villages with constant surveillance and control, straight out of Foucault’s nightmares. In the outside world surveillance technology and algorithms designed to eliminate discrimination and police brutality have only further bureaucratized and legitimized it; after all, how can you argue with the computer program? I do not want to discuss the ending too much, so I will only say that the end isn’t so much hopeful or promising or depressing or dystopian or even a call to action as it is cathartic. It was unlike many of the other books grappling with racism out there, and for that reason alone a good choice to add more perspectives.