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.

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!

Pandemic Quarantine in Books

I usually do my roundups at the end of the year, with short reviews of all the books I’ve read so far. And I was originally thinking I would do the same for 2020. But then we had a global pandemic. This meant a couple of things. For one, time stopped functioning in its normal, linear fashion, and I’m pretty sure March itself was around 20 or 30 years at least. Time has both sped up and slowed down at the same time? I’m not sure how it all works anymore. And second, everything closed. And yes, life with work and kids got a lot more busy, but also I stopped having any birthday parties or dance classes to go to, or even just the need/opportunity to leave the house during the day. What all of this means is that I have now read more than 40 books by July 1. And at the same time, the memory of literally everything that happened before mid-March is starting to disappear, so I should get those down while I can. With the result that while I don’t know what the rest of the year will hold, in terms of society-changing events or the linear progression of time, I figured I’d share my Pandemic Quarantine in Books (Jan 1 – June 30). Short descriptions below, longer reviews where I have them.

 

Handprints on Hubble: An Astronaut’s Story of Invention, Kathryn D. Sullivan

Kathryn Sullivan was the first woman to do a spacewalk, and the lead of the Hubble project. She is also an oceanographer who has been called “the most vertical person” for setting records in ocean depths and traveling into space. This was a really well told and interesting account of her story as well as the way any NASA project is put together. I’m constantly amazed at the level of detail in everything—my favorite story is that when a batch of screws for the Hubble from one company had slightly rounded corners that didn’t fit the wrench, one of the engineers spent hours filing down the corners of each individual screw. Amazing.

The Optimist’s Telescope: Thinking Ahead in a Reckless Age, Bina Venkataraman

This is meant to take on the bigger problems and teach us why we’re so bad at long term thinking as a society, but also how to make better decisions together. It was fine. It leaned heavily on behavioral psychology and behavioral economics and while I think the study of nudges in policy are interesting, it started to get too life-hacker/optimize your life for me.

Binti, Nnedi Okorafor

I medium liked this book? I really enjoyed the first two-thirds, and then it felt like the storyt just ended and all of the sudden there’s a truce in a generations-old conflict with no real, actual resolution. There are two other books and while they did expand the world of the original I never felt that I actually understood about why things were happening in the story and why it must unfold in this way.

Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs, Chuck Klosterman

Wow. This was such a 90s guy book. Just, like, pick this up to learn everything you could possibly want to learn about a certain 90s disaffected guy subculture. It is the Fight Club mentality; it is High Fidelity. It is meditations on what it means to be cool and trying-to-hard, pretending-to-be-above-it-all defenses of liking sports and anything mainstream. It is an absolutely perfect time capsule.

Lords and Ladies, Terry Pratchett

Gotta love the witches! This Discworld novel takes on elves—a much more malevolent presence than you’d find in most modern fantasy, similar to those in older fairy tales. This one has multiple universes, true meanings of power, and the heroics of Morris dancing. Probably in my top 5 of Discworld (so far, anyway).

One Hundred Twenty-One Days, Michele Audin

Written as part of a French collective that imposes odd creative restrictions on itself, this is the tale of a few interconnected Germans and French during WWI and WWII, particularly in the world of mathematics. It was a really interesting book to read. Telling the story of a WWI hero who becomes a French Nazi from his story in Algeria, to Jewish math students and their small acts of resistance, it was full of different perspectives and explorations the war.

Lost Feast: Culinary Extinction and the Future of Food, Lenore Newman

This was a fascinating tale of the foods that have gone extinct. Sometimes because we have eliminated a species, such as with the passenger pigeon. Sometimes it’s because homogenization has eliminated certain regionalized breed of animals and plants, and other times because globalization has risen demand so much that the food must become adulterated in order to be commercialized—Icelandic yogurt, skyr, from a highly specialized breed of cow is her primary example here. This touches on everything from globalization, to environmentalism, to capitalism, and was a fascinating read throughout.

How Long ‘Til Black Future Month, N. K. Jemisin

Jemisin is an amazing writer and her talents shine through in this short story collection. It’s stunning how many different genres she plays with, from cyberpunk to fantasy, utopia to dystopia. Some of the stories call back to other classics of sci fi, or have been further developed by Jemisin in later works, but they’re all completely original in the tales they tell and the worlds they show. Definitely in the top 3 books I read so far this year.

Men at Arms, Terry Pratchett

Another entry in the Night Watch series, Pratchett takes on the trope of a hard bitten cop who doesn’t listen to his superiors and the issues of affirmative action, immigration, and gun control. But in a roundabout, Discworldy way.

Tell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gone, James Baldwin

This later Baldwin story tells the story of a successful black actor from his life growing up in New York to his struggle to be an actor to his time of fame and close friendship (and sometimes more) with a white woman as well. It was surprising to learn, when researching some of the book, that this book that includes friendships with white people and a nuanced view of relationships was heavily criticized at the time it came out as strident or as a polemic. A sad reminder, and very recognizable today, that for too many people just existing, let alone talking about one’s life, is a political act.

The Signature of All Things, Elizabeth Gilbert

This story of a brilliant woman born in 1800 and living through the century, daughter of one of the richest men in Pennsylvania, wasn’t really my type of book but I did like it more than I expected to. It covers her story, of being an intelligent and intellectual woman, dutiful daughter, and unsure friend and sister, in a time when choices were constricted. It was most interesting at the end, with a discussion of how altruism fits into natural selection and the struggle for life, but had a solid story throughout.

Genome: The Autobiography of a Species in 23 Chapters, Matt Ridley

Following closely on this comment on altruism, it is a great mystery to me why we have decided that we must yield to the a tale of constant struggle, that nature is ‘red in tooth and claw’ and that there is only constant competition and the selfish battle for survival. Life is just as much a tale of everything—from single celled creatures to symbionts to social beings—learning that cooperation is more valuable than competition. That this myopic and harsh way of looking at the world has wormed its way inextricably to discussing human genetics has probably harmed us more than we will ever know.

Soul Music, Terry Pratchett

Death is probably the best character in all of Discworld, and I cannot help but be disappointed in a Death Discworld book that features so little of Death, who is off having his own existential crisis. But then again, how can I ever be disappointed in a Death Discworld book? This one doesn’t explore as many deep themes as the Night Watch, but it was a great, fun, bit of escapism.

Boy, Snow, Bird, Helen Oyeyemi

I love Oyeyemi, one of the best writers of our times, and I could get lost in her writing constantly. That said, I don’t know that I connected with or fully understood this retelling of Snow White focused on lies, reality, and transformation.

Binti: Home, Nnedi Okorafor

In the second book in Okorafor’s trilogy Binti comes home with her new companion from the first trilogy, where she also faces reprobation for having left, and for being changed in her adventures and faces the questions of how and if she is still herself. Again, it just didn’t feel complete in the world it built.

Eaters of the Dead, Michael Crichton

Eh. This was a super short book that was told as if it was an adventurer from the middle ages in Europe retelling a fight against wild northern humanoids. It was fairly short, but still a little confusing, and really not the best Crichton book around.

The Locust Effect: Why the End of Poverty Requires the End of Violence, Gary A. Haugen & Victor Boutros

A fascinating and infuriating book about how the constant threat of violence, lack of legal protection, and corruption at all levels affect the lives of those in poverty and make development impossible. This was a very realistic and depressing explanation of what happens to those on the margins and who are without any legal protections—or even under assault from the state. Also an interesting read to consider right now, when we’re looking at the role of police. The US has been a lucky and rare country where we mostly trust police and the legal system, and as that changes who knows what it means for us.

The Relic Master, Christopher Buckley

A book specifically written to tempt me, an irreverent tale of a man who seeks out relics for competing feudal lords, the Archbishop Albrecht of Mainz and Frederick the Wise. Through a series of events he ends up needing to try to steal the Shroud of Turin, with the whole thing set against the backdrop of the beginning of the Reformation. It wasn’t my favorite in the genre (I prefer some deeper cuts into heretical discussion myself), but quite a good read nonetheless.

Who Cooked Adam Smith’s Dinner?, Katrine Kielos

There is a whole 50%+ of humanity that economics has overlooked. I really liked what Swedish journalist Kielos had to say, and I thought it was a great little manifesto about the holes in economics and the need to better consider the role of women and unpaid labor in general. However, I found the writing a bit too simplistic and declarative at times. I don’t know if that’s the translation or the original, but it was an easy but not necessarily enjoyable read for me.

Binti: The Night Masquerade, Nnedi Okorafor

The conclusion of the Binti trilogy, where Binti learns the truth of her father’s people and how there has been interaction between her people and alien technology forever, and how culture can integrate with others but still stay true to itself. I like the message but I maintain that throughout I never quite grasped why everything was happening or the full view of the world. But each book is really fast read so probably still worth it.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, John le Carre

This book has what probably passes as a happy ending in a le Carre book, in that at least the people you like the best don’t die. It was a very intriguing spy novel that also had shades of Agatha Christie in the beginning and shows a now-retired George Smiley rooting out a spy within the highest levels of British intelligence. It’s a great slow-burning suspense novel.

The Shadow Lines, Amitav Ghosh

What a fantastic and heart-wrenching gut-punch of a book. A young man recounts his life and memories, including the stories he’s been told about the family. He speaks of his childhood growing up in, with a grandmother who had lived in Dhaka before the partition, and the time he spent with a wealthy branch of the family who travels the world and has close friends in London. Much of it is wrapped up in memories or stories told by his beloved (and fairly close in age) uncle Tridib. It was a beautiful exploration of childhood, colonialism, culture, and privilege and has such an emotional and surprising end that just rips your heart out.

Interesting Times, Terry Pratchett

I am an unapologetic Pratchett fan, but you can maybe just skip this one? We end up with Rincewind the Wizard on the Counterweight Continent, a clear stand in for China, on the opposite side of the more familiar Ankh-Morpork. And while every new city or world in Discworld takes on a myth or society and is rarely too complimentary, they’re mostly either British cultures or very ancient and feel like they might be fair game. But this one traffics too closely to stereotypes that exist today (Asians are far too sneaky; Asians are too obedient and need a Westerner to teach them freedom and innovation; Chinese and Japanese cultural signifiers are interchangeable) that it was a very uncomfortable book to read.

Democracy in America, Alexis de Toqueville

Well, I made a mistake and ended up with an abridged version of this—25 cents at the library book sale, I didn’t look into it too much—but I think I got the gist of it. I don’t think there was anything too surprising from what we all know of this book. From what I gathered, de Toqueville was impressed with our democracy and civic engagement, wondered how long we could keep it, etc. But I was surprised to see his argument that public pressure ended up censuring writers even though freedom of the press was guaranteed by the state and that the risk of public opprobrium was even more oppressive and dangerous to free thought than the threat of arrest or torture elsewhere. Proof that white men have been complaining about cancel culture for 200 years.

Selected Poems of Langston Hughes, Langston Hughes

What an interesting book to read at the same time as Democracy in America. I love Langston Hughes but hadn’t read his poems in years and wanted to go back to them. Beautiful and moving and a great exploration of my conflicted feelings about America.

Circe, Madeline Miller

Possibly the best book I read all year. I adored this telling of Circe’s story, an immortal whose life crossed through many of the other familiar myths. She was a niece to Prometheus, aunt to the Minotaur and Medea, and is most well known for her relationship to Odysseus. It was a great examination of Greek myths, a celebration of people who want to do the right thing in their lives rather than seek glory at the expense of others, what world we want to create through the stories we tell, and just an incredibly well-written and fascinating story on its own.

Capital in the Twenty-First Century, Thomas Piketty

Capital will create the conditions to endlessly accumulate and gather more capital; inequality is inevitable without intervention; the only reason things ever looked ‘fair’ is because WWI and WWII were resets and a bunch of countries also passed confiscatory taxes after them. I finally got around to reading this much-talked-about book (because there is a sequel out this year) and man, you will make it through this enraged.

The Meurseault Investigation, Kamel Daoud

Maybe the second best book I read all year. Camus’ The Stranger told by the brother of the Arab Meurseault shot on the beach. This is the type of book where I ended up highlighting and rereading whole sections over and over to live in the words, and it packs so many thoughts in a very brief novel.

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Philip K. Dick

I know I’m speaking nerd blasphemy but I don’t actually love Blade Runner. The book, however, that’s a whole different thing. I read this in one evening, and was immediately pulled into it. I love the propulsive story itself; I love Dick’s writing; I love the way empathy is centered as the main human experience.

Politics is for Power: How to Move Beyond Political Hobbyism, Take Action, and Make Real Change, Eitan Hersh

This book’s thesis can be boiled down pretty simply: spending two hours a day reading think pieces, watching CNN headline news, and arguing on Facebook isn’t politics. Spending two hours a week at city council meetings, writing postcards to voters, or going to your local party precinct meeting is. The first is hobbyism, rooting for your team, and talking about politics the same way people talk about sports. The second is actually doing something for your community and engaging in politics. I don’t agree with all of Hersh’s assessment of who the hobbyists are or who we got here, but the thrust of the book is spot on.

Itch, Polly Farquhar

My 8 year old has started to ask me to read the books he’s reading so we can talk about them. I, obviously, could not be more thrilled by this. This is a coming of age novel by a boy who has had to move to small town Ohio and has a condition where he develops an allergic hive response for no clear reason—as my son put it, he’s allergic to itching—and is trying to find his way in middle school hierarchy. All I will say here is how glad I am not in middle school anymore and how much I dread those years for my kids.

The Martian, Andy Weir

This was my second time reading this book, and it was still a ton of fun. I do think the Mark Watney voice—overly sarcastic bro-y, nerdy, guy—grated a bit this time around. The first time I read the book I was so engrossed in the page turning story that I overlooked it, this time I new what was happening and it stuck with me more. But you know what? I still loved it.

Upright Women Wanted, Sarah Gailey

In the future(?) the Southwest US is a confederated theocracy with some unincorporated areas in between, and the only ones who are really allowed to travel from place to place are the Librarians distributing approved material. The Librarians, it turns out, are also not only distributing subversive materials but also hiding and transporting to freedom lesbians and gender non-conforming individuals. It was a well-done story, even if most plot points were to be expected, but I think the real thing is that for some people, at some points in life, this story of rebellion and affirmation would be just what is needed.

Summer of the Sea Serpent, Mary Pope Osborne

My boy has really outgrown Magic Treehouse books, but after I read Itch, he wanted me to read one of his favorites from the magical Merlin series. These are fun books, and this one has a selkie! Which we have had to hear a lot about.

The Guns of August, Barbara W. Tuchman

We tend to think of the World Wars as an aberration, but really, a time of peace when two or more great powers in Europe weren’t at war was the aberration. What made World War I so awful at the time was the new technology, not that a web of entanglements brought so many powers in. Tuchman brought that home and how the leading powers in Europe primarily miscalculated by not realizing how much war was changing.

No Shortcuts: Organizing for Power in the New Gilded Age, Jane McAlevey

A really great study of what has made some unionizing campaigns succeed or fail in the New Gilded Age, and how a focus on elite consensus and greater interest in working with those who already hold power—such as business owners and wealthy donors—rather than working with people to build power has undermined labor and the left. I bristled at some of her assumptions about faith organizing here, but overall this should be essential reading for organizers.

Showing Off: Upside Down Magic #3, Sarah Mlynowski, Lauren Myracle, and Emily Jenkins

These are adorable books about a girl, Nori, and her friends in a class of kids whose magic doesn’t work properly and is ‘wonky.’ Someone who should be able to control animals might accidentally make them afraid, for instance, someone with levitation magic may not be able to get back down, and someone with transformation magic like Nori might only be able to change into mixed animals like a dritten- a dragon kitten- or a kittingo – a kitten flamingo. It’s very cute.

Climate Generation, Lorna Gold

Gold is a Catholic climate activist from Ireland who has been a leader in the climate strikes and the divestment movement. Climate Generation is very moving discussion of when she really grappled with what climate change meant for her kids, the generation who will have to deal with the impacts. I thought that it didn’t truly explore the change that is meant, though, and focused too much on what we can each individually do, rather than the badly needed systemic and political change.

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

Just a fantastic storyabout two of the most elite warriors in a sprawling time war between two separate but similar advanced and connected futures. The thing about time travel is it’s going to be full of paradox and impossibility no matter what, so El-Mohtar and Gladstone just lean in, talking about jumping between braids of time and elite agents who can leave each other letters in molecules of water and painstakingly grown into the rings of trees. Completely different and absolutely engrossing.

The Way of the Pilgrim & The Pilgrim Continues His Way, Anonymous

I’d heard about this influential book often, a mediation on the need to pray continuously, never ceasing, as St. Paul commands in his letter. It is a classic of Orthodox Christianity. The pilgrim travels throughout Russia and is really a master in telling pious people to focus on their own spirituality and refuse help to all others, even those trying to escape their current life to follow the Church. I’m sure the hierarchy and the government loved it.

The Power and the Glory, Graham Greene

I love Graham Greene, but this was another classic I was disappointed in. It’s the book that gave Greene his stamp as a Catholic writer but it’s much more about a flawed hero than faith, and reduces Catholicism to mere clericalism, celebrating the rules rather than the theology. Silence, by Shusaku Endo, which covers a similar plot in Japan but with a far more expansive view,  is often compared to this book and is by far the superior one.

 How to Be an Antiracist, Ibram X. Kendi

After the murders of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd, and after a white woman called the cops on Chris Cooper, my organization offered everyone reimbursement for buying copies of this book. I think it was excellently done in reframing the views of racism/antiracism, and publicly acknowledging, without harsh judgement, that we are swimming in this racist stew and all of us have internalized it to some extent. Being antiracist means consciously fighting this constantly, and acknowledging that we will fall sometimes. I thought it fell down some on the how-to part.

Leon and the Champion Chip, Allen Kurzweil

Another recommendation from my son. Leon is dealing with the school bully, enjoying his school science class and needing to rally the kids to protect their teacher, and has an amazing potato chip collection. This was also probably the closest you’ll get to magical realism in a kids book, with everything the same, no recognition of magic, but also he can create an animile (a voodoo doll like object) to control others somehow. And use the scientific method to figure out what makes the animile work. I love introducing kids to absurdity early on.

Holy War: The Crusaders and Their Impact on Today’s World, Karen Armstrong

A History of God is one of my favorite books on religion. An amazingly insightful and evenhanded analysis of the three Abrahamic religions, and the similar paths they have followed. This was, instead, an analysis of how the Crusades led into the current Israeli-Palestinian conflict (well, current for the 90s, when this came out). It was dismissive of  not just the Crusaders, but Christianity as a whole as somehow less rigorous than other relgions, (“Christians who ‘forced’ their minds to submit to these irrational doctrines had to do so on very flimsy grounds….denying the evidence of his senses and the ordinary laws of nature.”)  fairly hostile towards Israel, and made the bizarre claim that there wasn’t anti-Semitism in the Muslim or Ottoman world until Israel was formed. (It was better there than Europe, but to say anti-Semitism did not exist is flatly untrue.) and had a biased perspective throughout. Very disappointing.

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Robert Heinlein

One way of describing this book is to talk about the story. It’s 2075 and Earth’s Moon has been being used a penal colony for generations, with criminals being exiled to the Moons. After six months human bodies adjust to the gravity and they can’t go back to Earth. Being stuck on the Moon, they set up families and create their own society and elaborate mores and codes of conduct. The Moon is ostensibly run by a Warden, but since there’s nowhere for the inhabitants to go and these are criminals, shunned by society, they are left to their own devices except what they must do to supply hydroponic grain to a starving and land-poor Earth. There’s a bit of an uninspired underground resistance that might want Lunar independence, but it doesn’t have much of a plan until our ragtag group of heroes put it together. Mannie, a computer technician, befriends the supercomputer managing all of the Moon’s systems and communications who is interested in managing and helping with their revolution (and this element works better than you might think it’s easily my favorite part of the plot), and his old friend Professor Bernardo de la Paz—the Heinlein stand-in there to explain all of the theories—has been thinking on how to run a revolution. He’s also calculated that if the Moon keeps sending wheat to Earth they’ll run out of water and die, so a revolution is badly needed. They set up a secret band to carry out the revolution, the Moon rebels, declaring independence on July 4, 2076. Eventually they prevail, and the moon is granted independence while the glorious revolution falls short of their dreams.

But let’s be honest. Robert Heinlein, especially after his early work, isn’t really about the story, it’s about the message and showcasing his very radical libertarian beliefs. I’m not saying the story doesn’t matter at all, as good medium will always help with the message. and he is a talented story teller. But, really, Heinlein didn’t write this because he wanted to write about Mannie or a lunar colony or a war planned by a supercomputer. He wanted to write down all his thoughts about the freedom of frontier life and his dreams of a libertarian world, and this is how he chose to do it. So let’s engage on those terms.

It should come as no surprise that I am not a libertarian. And Heinlein’s specific brand of frontier-worshipping libertarianism also brings with it a flavor of idealized anarchism (for certain definitions of idealized, I suppose) that, while not as morally repugnant as objectivism, I do find to be incredibly foolish and naïve. Heinlein shows that he sees the society that has developed on the moon, with individuals enforcing a complicated system of social norms and everyone looking out for themselves or their family first, as his own idealized system. There are no laws written down, but everyone understands what they are supposed to do. No state to enforce the law, but individuals do shun those who don’t comply. Everyone pays their debts because reputation is important and if they don’t, no one will do business with them. Duels are fine but you have to take care of the loser’s family and obligations. There’s a free market, everyone has to work because the society is always on the edge of survival, and family takes care of family. The Moon has no racism because everyone has to do their part, and women are highly valued and assault or even harassment is punishable by death.

I have a lot of problems with this beautifully free society Heinlein has built, most of them in the way that my utopia looks very, very different from his. My utopia is more along the lines of the brave and brilliant “The Ones Who Stay and Fight” from N.K. Jemisin. But let’s just take this vision on Heinlein’s own terms. This lunar society still has a state, albeit an informal one. It still has laws, even if they are not written. The people govern themselves, and it’s great that this has all come about by consensus, but it is still a government.  Heinlein’s world of everyone paying their debts because of their reputation is the same as our current system but through word of mouth rather than credit checks. Assault and harassment are punished by mob justice, but this means there are still laws but with no process to ensure they’re fairly enforced. (Is a lack of a jury and trial really superior?) And there are, in fact, informal judges—individuals of good standing—to mediate disputes and decide if someone did, in actuality, break the society’s laws. Guess what that is—it’s the early stages of the British system of common law.

What Heinlein is dreaming of is all the trappings of the state, but pretending it can all happen because people think it should, rather than writing it down anywhere. That somehow we are all in Rouseau’s state of nature when we’re in these nascent societies and that injustice and oppression only happen once you write down the rules. And this is one of my problems with Libertarianism. Most—not all, but most—of our laws were put in place in response to what someone saw as problems that really existed in the world. We didn’t write all these laws down and start a government because it was inspired from nowhere. All of our systems grew out of these informal structures when the informal rules failed to be enough. It’s not that the State or a leader can never gain too much power, and we should always be vigilant against authoritarians or oppression. But mob rule doesn’t mean that oppression disappears, and sometimes the State exists as a response to unjust informal systems.

Then there is the point that for someone who thinks individuals are great enough to rule themselves informally with no written systems or processes, Heinlein, through his stand in Bernardo de la Paz, sure thinks pretty lowly of us. De la Paz undermines agreements and potential treaties. He lies to this followers. He sets up a plan to create his ideal government and sabotage anyone else’s efforts. And he does all this because he believes that individuals will choose too strong of a government and must be lied to and deceived and forced into a libertarian world instead! You cannot have it both ways. Either people are free to choose or they are not and individuals can choose to create an institution. If we can only be lied to and deceived and must be led by a puppet master, maybe just get all that out in the open and steal control instead. But do not pretend that we cannot decide what is best for ourselves.

After The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Heinlein returned to this concept that “freedom only exists at the frontiers” at other points, and became more strident in his individualistic libertarianism. But this basic whole in the idea remains. Informal judges are judges; rules that have grown form consensus and without discussion are still rules. Living in a world where no one cares for one another sounds like a nightmare to me, but even on its own terms it fails–any group of humans needs laws.

Binti

bintiBinti, Nnedi Okorafor

Binti is a young, brilliant woman in a distant and very different future Earth. We have interplanetary travel and interspecies universities and living spaceships. Every person has their own astrolabe, a far more advanced smart phone and identification device tuned to each them. Mathematics iss a form of meditation and clarity, and “harmonizers” who can clearly see the equations and connections in the world are incredibly valued. The world is sketched out quickly for us and we are thrown in, with many pieces of it still being a complete mystery.

Binti herself is a member of the Himba tribe, a desert people who cover themselves and their hair in a fragrant mix of the red clay of their land and plant oils, and are often skilled harmonizers, but also an incredibly insular tribe. No one leaves their tribe, let alone the planet, and they are looked down upon by the Khoush, a different human culture that seems to be in charge of trade, and is engaged in a war with an alien race (although very friendly with others.) Binti makes the radical decision to sneak off  for a place in the most highly regarded university in the system, becoming the first of her tribe to leave the planet, possibly even the village, and after a deadly attack brokers a fragile truce with the Khoush’s enemies, the Meduse.

It’s hard to properly evaluate this book, the first in a trilogy. It is an incredibly short book, a novella really, clocking in at under 100 pages. I liked the first section and the world building; I want to learn more about the world of math and how and why her people have cut themselves off from the interplanetary travel. However, I became a bit lost towards the end. I wasn’t quite sure why some of the ways things were resolved could be resolved in that way, and it all ended up wrapped in a tidy little package way too quickly and simplistically. It felt like the resolution came when nothing had actually, really, been resolved. But I don’t know if that’s how it ends, and then we’re on to a new story, or if the rest of the books pull on and expand the threads that began here. If it’s meant to stand alone I’m not a huge fan. It was fine, and a short enough book to make it worth the quick read, but it seemed to be missing half. If it’s meant to be part of the larger trilogy, though, I might revise my sentiment. I am very intrigued by the world and Binti and would like to learn more of it, as long as there’s a story to go along.