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.

First Cosmic Velocity

First Cosmic Velocity, Zach Powers

Zach Powers’ novel sounds, upon first description, as if it will be a dark, satirical novel about the Soviet Union’s space program. In this alternate universe, the Soviet Union has, indeed, been the first to launch humans into orbit but hasn’t *quite*mastered the technology to bring them back to Earth yet. Luckily, they have a few sets of twins to work with, twins who were brought to Star City, the heart of their space program, as young children to be indoctrinated, trained, and with the original idea that the program would test differences on people who went into space and those who stayed back, but the plan took a turn with the homebound twin taking the place of the one who went into orbit and acting the part to hide the programs’ failures. This has been working well, although it is constantly a struggle to keep the plan afloat, until there are two challenges. One: the program runs out of twins. Two: Kruschev, who has also been kept in the dark about the failures, wants his dog to be sent into orbit.

It seems like a set up that is dark but has humorous potential. Instead, it ends up being a fairly bleak exploration of truth and reality. It also feels bleak and empty, those being the predominant feelings I had while reading the book.  The book’s locations include the Kazakh steppe, where the launches take place and new heat shields are tested, Ukraine during the famine, and Star City. Star City Is not far from Moscow, but by the time of this book many of the twins are gone and this secluded and walled off area has a similarly empty feel. There are three faux-cosmonauts still there – Leonid, whose twin Leonid hast just gone into space, Nadya, the other half of the first twins to travel, and Mars who, since his twin had been launched, stays behind with the mission of hearing the last words of the cosmonauts before they run out of air or burn up on re-entry. And added to that one ‘real’ cosmonaut, with no idea of the current deception and being trained to go up into space. His efforts to liven up Star City only enhance the emptiness and bleakness in the setting.

The book bounces back and forth between the current, as the Chief Engineer races to perfect his heat shield, and Nadya and Leonid try to find a twin dog just in case, and with Leonid (we are never given his original name) and his twin living in Urkaine in 1950. The book ends up thinking through the layers of deception and stories, and how these have always been – Leonid’s grandmother throughout tells stories of the founder of their village, and only later does Leonid think of the horrors this Cossack founder perpetrated that were never told in the old stories. This parallels the stories that are being created at this time, although the reason for such deceptions and tales is never really explored.

 It’s a strange story. I did get pulled in to reading it, and the atmosphere and feeling of it has stuck with me, but I’m not entirely sure all of it worked. There were too many pieces of the secret that felt like they’d come apart, or parts of the tale that seems a big off. For all that though, and while it’s not at all what I was expecting, it has stuck with me.  And maybe that is what the book wanted to achieve.  

2021 Book Reviews Pt. 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No One Is Talking About This, Patricia Lockwood

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

Upon the Sweeping Flood and Other Stories, Joyce Carol Oates

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

Parable of the Talents, Octavia E. Butler

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

The Liar’s Dictionary, Eley Williams

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

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

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

Land of Big Numbers, Te-Ping Chen

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

Migrations, Charlotte McConaghy

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

American Gods, Neil Gaiman

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

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

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

The Firekeeper’s Daughter, Angeline Boulley

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

The Man Who Was Thursday, G.K. Chesterton

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

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

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

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

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

The Songlines, Bruce Chatwin

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

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

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

Night Watch, Terry Pratchett

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

The Wee Free Men, Terry Pratchett

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

The Quiet American, Graham Greene

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

Timequake, Kurt Vonnegut

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

Foundation Trilogy, Isaac Asimov

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

Mirrorland, Carole Johnstone

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

Monstrous Regiment, Terry Pratchett

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

The Silver Arrow, Lev Grossman

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

The Trial, Franz Kafka

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

A Hat Full of Sky, Terry Pratchett

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

Fuzz: When Nature Breaks the Law, Mary Roach

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

Hummingbird Salamander, Jeff Vandermeer

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

Going Postal, Terry Pratchett

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

Peaces, Helen Oyeyemi

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

Wintersmith, Terry Pratchett

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

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

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

Making Money, Terry Pratchett

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

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

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

Unseen Academicals, Terry Pratchett

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

Ten Low, Stark Holborn

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

Project Hail Mary, Andy Weir

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

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

Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente

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

Something Wicked This Way Comes, Ray Bradbury

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

I Shall Wear Midnight, Terry Pratchett

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

The Monkey Wrench Gang, Edward Abbey

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

The Ex Hex, Erin Sterling

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

The Ministry for the Future, Kim Stanley Robinson

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

Persephone Station, Stina Leicht

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

Space Opera, Catherynne M. Valente

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

Snuff, Terry Pratchett

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

A Cafecito Story, Julia Alvarez

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

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

The White Tiger

white tiger

The White Tiger, Aravind Adiga

This is a dark, amoral, nihilistic tale of India and capitalism that also happens to be pretty funny. That is quite a trick to pull off.

Balram, our protagonist and our story teller was born in a small Indian town of Laxmanargh, in what he calls the Darkness, the world of the poor masses in India. He is part of a large family run by an overbearing matriarch, Kusum. Balram is clever and intelligent, and so impresses a government visitor to his school that he is told he is special, a White Tiger, and wins a prestigious scholarship to study in Delhi. Unfortunately, at this time his father catches tuberculosis and dies. He could have survived with medial attention, but the local hospital is an empty shell of a building staffed by civil servants who bribed their way to their posts and have no need to show up. With his father’s death, Balram must drop out of school and is thrust into the seemingly inescapable world for all of those in the Darkness.

In Laxmanargh there are four major landlords who run the industries, and whose families have all the wealth and can do as they wish to the town. The rest are left desperately striving, with the dream of most to be a servant or in a service job with a uniform and some prestige. Balram desperately envies the bus driver, with his smart uniform and responsibilities. With this in mind, and wanting to break free of the life that has been set out for him, he and his brother get his grandmother to pay for his driving classes with the promise that he will send much more money back home. He is unsuccessful at getting a new job until, by luck, in a nearby city he runs into the family of the Stork, one of the landlords from Laxmanargh, whose son has just returned from America and needs a driver. They prefer to have someone from back home – someone who will practically be like family, they say—and hire Balram as the driver to Mr. Ashok and his wife, Pinky Madam.

Throughout Balram recounts his desperation to be a good servant, and the story of desperation within India. They eventually go to Delhi, so that Mr. Ashok can run errands bribing politicians for his family. In the background throughout the tale is The Great Socialist, an amalgamation of characters and the seeming title for whoever is in charge. Balram is a bit lost in Delhi and at times Mr. Ashok’s wife urges him to get a new driver, but his family likes having someone from home, with the constant implicit threat that they can harm or kill his family if he ever did anything untrustworthy. The book is a slow awakening for Balram. He has already pulled away by not sending his salary back home, but he starts to consider why he is so subservient, why he must live like this, and what he wants more. Eventually reaching the breaking point where he realizes no matter how good Mr. Ashok may be to him, Balram is still just a servant and this will be forever. He manages to escape the Darkness and his life through a brutal crime, taking the bribe money—and the education he has had from watching the Stork’s family at work—to create his own successful business.

None of this is a spoiler as the trajectory is laid out in the beginning of the book, and in the trailer for the newish Netflix movie. The book is also far more humorous and exciting than I’ve told it here. Balram is, well, not exactly the most likable protagonist, but he is incredibly entertaining. The vignettes and tales of how servants are treated, how they are stuck in the mindset, but also how they are able to cheat their masters were interesting. The small touches of life to show how he is treated (at one point, Mr. Ashok goes to give Balram a bonus and keeps rethinking and pulling sequentially smaller bills from his wallet) are well done. And in fact, the feel of the book, although different in so many ways, reminds me of something like The Awakening. This growing knowledge that no matter how good a ‘master’ he might find, Balram will never be nothing but a servant to them – and neither will the rest of the country.

This is not a fairy tale that rewards hard work, or a story of good and bad. It is a story of cutthroat people in corrupt society set up to reward corruption and amorality. There is no way to like anyone in it. But the book itself? That I loved.   

Fardwor, Russia!

Fardwor, Russia!: A Fantastical Tale of Life Under Putin, Oleg Kashin

Oleg Kashin is an incredibly prolific Russian writer, with a long list of articles, essays, and novels to his credit. He has also been an outspoken critic of Putin’s Russia, and in 2010 was brutally beaten and nearly killed outside his apartment building, apparently for criticizing a regional governor and Putin ally in the comments section of an online newspaper. Unsurprisingly, although the attackers were identified, and Medvedev (President at the time) had vowed they would be found out and punished, ultimately no one was prosecuted. Kashin has not been shy about his criticisms, and now lives with his wife in Switzerland following the attack. While much of his online writing is direct, while in Russia he decided to follow in the footsteps of so many Russian and Eastern European dissidents and dive into absurdist satire.

Fardwor, Russia! centers around a man trying to finish his grandfather’s work, an amazing growth serum. Thinking he has hit on a grand idea, Karpov decides to move himself and his wife Marina out of Moscow to his hometown of Goa in southern Russia, and perfect the growth serum he says will bring them fame and riches – and if it doesn’t, then Marina is free to leave him and go back to Moscow.

After a relatively short series of struggles and missteps, Karpov does succeed in developing his product, but it has several unintended consequences. The growth serum both increases the size of, and speeds up the physical development of, whatever it is injected in. Meaning that if a fully grown animal receives the injection, it will grow to a larger size, and if, say, a calf gets it, it will turn into a fully grown cow within a few days. The director of the agricultural lab that had previously employed his grandfather sees the potential to attract research funds and wants to hire him to do research at the lab, something he is largely against for reasons that aren’t really explained. (His whole plan on monetizing this, in general, is quite unclear.) However, despite rebuffing her scientific advances, he does indeed attract a lot of attention for his serum, although not entirely what he wants to receive.

Karpov tries the serum out on a circus midget who reaches an average height and goes on a popular talk show, attracting the attention of Mefody, the midget son of a billionaire who lives a luxurious reclusive life while his brother runs their business empire. After taking the serum, he also grows to an average height, runs off with Marina, and goes off to surprise his beloved brother. His brother, however, instead of embracing and congratulating him, decides to pretend not to recognize him. He accuses him of killing Mefody and trying to replace him, and has Mefody killed. Meanwhile, someone burns Karpov’s shack down, the meat producers of Russia are outraged at the competition that will arise if anyone can grow their animals quickly, and the incredibly corrupt Olympic corporation, Olympstroi, gets involved for some reason. Karpov is beaten and tortured. The government itself tries to use the serum to create an army or movement of children grown to adult size and shape but still developmentally children, who will be brainwashed to love and believe everything the government says. The experiment is discovered and destroyed, the serum is not be made use of, and Karpov returns to Moscow, is reunited with Marina, and they both decide to live their lives as if nothing has happened. Fin.

There is a lot to the story, as you can see, and recapping it is quite difficult. Reviewing it is even harder, so I’ll start with a few stray thoughts that don’t fit in anywhere but were nagging at me. First, I am aware that Russia is not nearly as egalitarian or politically correct (although I hate that term—it really just means you care about being polite to other people) as the United States. After all, that’s why the alt-right loves them. But a whole subplot with circus midgets and a billionaire heir who has to hide himself away because of his dwarfism was rather jarring. Secondly, on a much more frivolous note, I had completely forgotten that LiveJournal had, several years ago, found new life as a Russian entity and is still used there. I kept experiencing temporal dissonance trying to comprehend a world where people were using both LiveJournal and Twitter.

On a far more serious note, I enjoy Eastern European absurdist novels, even if I don’t always understand all of them. But Kashin’s book is nearly impossible to get if you’re not deep in the weeds in Russian politics and culture, rather than a casual observer. Rather than trying to satirize broad concepts, it is full of deep cuts of Russian references and I would have gotten exactly zero of them without reading the excellent introduction or summaries online. The title itself was based on a widely mocked essay by Medvedev after he became president, “Forward, Russia!”, and a reference to Medvedev’s first official tweet, which was apparently riddled with misspellings and mistakes leading to a parody account, @kermlintweets. The story comes from a Soviet-era science fiction book, Patient AB and apparently the plot follows its inspiration fairly closely. The talk show in the book is a real talk show, and almost every character in the book is meant to parody or represent a real character in modern-day Russia. And I didn’t recognize any of them.

As it is, if one is just a casual reader, this is a very confusing and hard to follow story. It didn’t make that much sense on its own, even by the standards of Slavic absurdist satire – a genre that includes Master and Margarita. I am guessing/hoping that if one gets all the cultural touchpoints and references it is a much funnier novel and you understand why certain things happen. But without that knowledge the book doesn’t stand on its own.

What does make sense is the ending. After his shack has burned down and he’s been beaten, after the man Marina ran off with has disappeared, after there are news stories about children turned to adults and being trained in a secret facility, Marina and Karpov shrug their shoulders and decide to ignore it all and settle back into their own life. After much of Russia shrugged its shoulders at Putin’s misdeeds, after Kashin himself was brutally beaten and knew that nothing would ever happen to the perpetrators, I imagine Kashin thought that was a very good allegory for living in Putin’s Russia.