Best New Reads
- Absalom, Absalom! (1936)—William Faulkner
Synopsis: Two college kids become obsessed with the story of a guy one of their grandpa’s kind of knew.
This book made me hate reading. But only because I had to read 70 pages a day for a class. It’s a thematically rich story with dense but evocative prose, and I’ll probably try to read it again someday, at a more enjoyable pace. - Bellocq’s Ophelia (2002)—Natasha Tretheway
Synopsis: A diary-in-poems of a woman in New Orleans, circa 1910.
A masterful and moving portrait. Humanizing but not romanticizing, intimate without being voyeuristic. - Hum (2013)—Jamaal May
Synopsis: Poems centered around the city of Detroit, MI.
For a first book this is remarkably well-executed. Not only the poems, but the structure and thematic developments of the book are intricate and expertly crafted. A dazzling, musical exploration of life in Detroit and all that that entails.
- Naming The No-Name Woman (2016)—Jasmine An
Synopsis: A poetry collection viewing the life of Anna May Wong, the first Chinese-American film star, through the lens of autobiography and critical theory (and vice versa).
A collision of theory and narrative, of past and present, at once erotic and analytical. Through an interweaving of her’s and Anna May’s lives, An explores the intersections of race, gender, and sexuality, all with precise, beautifully crafted language. - The Prince (1513)—Niccolò Machiavelli
Synopsis: Advice to a ruler on how to rule, depending on what kind of ruler they want to be and what consequences they’re willing to deal with.
Perhaps the first political theorist to describe the world as it is, rather than prescribe an ideal world. Cited by Marxists and Fascists alike, he has been seen as a defender of tyranny and a champion of the people, and as merely a clever satirist. My own interpretation is that Machiavelli is merely providing the tools and it’s up to the Prince to decide how to use them. I think it is possible to create a just society informed by Machiavellian ideas. Regardless, it’s an interesting read (and he has a real way with metaphors).
- A Tree Or A Person Or A Wall (2016)—Matt Bell
Synopsis: Short stories (and a novella-in-shorts) exploring some of the darkest possibilities of human existence.
If you have never read Matt Bell, this book is the place to start. Covering everything from historical fiction to magical realism to dystopian sci-fi, Bell’s language propels the reader through dark, labyrinthine stories only to find that the monster at the center isn’t always what we think. Even if you have read How They Were Found and Cataclysm Baby, both of which are (mostly) re-collected here, this collection is worth picking up for the seven brilliant new stories that prove that Bell continues to excel at his craft. - Trigger Warning: Short Fictions And Disturbances (2015)—Neil Gaiman
Synopsis: I mean, it’s in the title.
Though overall not as strong as previous collections Smoke and Mirrors and Fragile Things, there are a sufficient number of standout stories to make this worth reading—even for just my two favorite stories: “Nothing O’Clock,” a Doctor Who story that would’ve been better than that stupid “Cybermen but now they’re fast” episode, and the surprisingly experimental and coincidentally poignant “The Return of the Thin White Duke.” My main critique of Trigger Warning (besides the title, which feels like the aging “cool dad” trying to fit in with the kids and failing, the first step in the inevitable diminishment of Gaiman’s rock stardom) is that many of the stories are strong 99% of the way, and then the ending just doesn’t follow. This would be disappointing, especially from a writer of Gaiman’s calibur, for any story, but is even more puzzling in that it occurs in so many stories in this collection. - Welcome To Night Vale (2015)—Joseph Fink & Jeffrey Cranor
Synopsis: A man in a tan jacket isn’t visiting everyone in Night Vale, and isn’t trying to get them to go to a place called King City that doesn’t exist.
That perfect Night Vale mix of surreal humor and even more surreal poignancy. In retrospect, this novel foreshadowed the future of the podcast, as Fink and Cranor brought new levels of narrative and emotional depth to those stories.
Best Re-Reads
- Arcadia (1993)—Tom Stoppard
Synopsis: On an early-19th-century British country estate, a young girl makes a mathematical breakthrough while her mother fights against the advances of Romanticism and her tutor advances his own romanticism while trying to avoid fights. Meanwhile, in the late 20th century, two researchers converge on that same estate, each investigating their own symbols of the triumphs and failures of the Romantic ideals. Also there’s chaos theory and witty repartee. Oh, and it’s a play.
Poignant, hilarious, smart. [NB: This is my original 2016 review. My review from 2018 is more extensive.] - The Egyptologist (2004)—Arthur Phillips
Synopsis: A tragicomic epistolary mystery novel about identity, love, and history.
A beautifully constructed novel. Like the best mysteries, rewards re-reading, as you can better see the threads slowly being woven together (or unraveled, as the case may be). If you enjoyed the Ewing and Frobisher sections of Cloud Atlas, you’ll probably enjoy this as well. - I, Robot (1950)—Isaac Asimov
Synopsis: A collection of short stories framed as an interview with a robopsychologist reflecting on her career.
One part mystery stories, one part practicum for robopsychology. As we get closer and closer to the kind of robots that we might actually need the Three Laws to control (or, more likely, some far more complex system), these stories seem more and more relevant, as they explore the issues, both practical and philisophical, that could arise even with (or indeed because of) those safeguards. Not to mention it’s a thoroughly entertaining book and fascinating bit of worldbuilding.
Of course, I am eternally bothered by the fact that my copy advertises the movie of the same title (but not of the same storyline—the filmmakers just licensed it so they could use the Three Laws.) - An Unfortunate Woman (1994)—Richard Brautigan
Synopsis: A semi-autobiographical diary / ersatz novel (a “free fall calendar map,” as Brautigan calls it) of a year(ish) in the narrator’s life, in which he holds a chicken in Hawaii, watches an American movie in a Chinese theater in Toronto, breaks his leg in San Francisco (and/or while fighting a dragon), and gets put on trial for crimes against Time.
I don’t even know what to say about this book. It’s absurd, it’s dark, it’s hilarious, it’s moving, it’s Brautigan, it’s perfect. [NB: This is my original 2016 review. My review from 2018 is more extensive.]
Certain of Eventual Failure 