Walden by Henry David Thoreau

4/5 stars

What's it about? Thoreau’s treatise on individualism and respect for the natural world originated from his two years of self-sufficiency beside the shores of Walden Pond. A blend of philosophy, memoir, and field guide, Walden urges readers to shed frivolity and experience life at its simplest.

How’d I find it? Though a longtime resident of the TBR list, Thoreau became a pressing read. I borrowed my spouse’s copy for the occasion.

Who will enjoy this book? Rather than who, Walden requires guidance on how to read it: ever so slowly. A chapter a day was the perfect amount to chew at a time. If you liked Jon Krakauer’s Into the Wild, this book will speak to you.

What stood out? The questions of truth and resistance in Walden are relevant no matter when you read them, and Thoreau’s descriptions of the flora and fauna he encounters around Concord provide context for his experiment in the woods. A time capsule of 19th-century Americana.

Which line made me feel something? “The winds which passed over my dwelling were such as sweep over the ridges of mountains, bearing the broke strains, or celestial parts only, of terrestrial music. The morning wind forever blows, the poem of creation is uninterrupted, but few are the ears that hear it. Olympus is but the outside of the earth everywhere.”

The Grip of It by Jac Jemc

4/5 stars

What's it about? Julie and James leave the city to buy their first home, and the experience exposes their raw and ugly through a nightmarish possession. Is the house and its sinister history to blame, or have the tensions in their marriage finally stretched to breaking? A thoroughly haunting story that creeps under your skin and refuses to fade, much like Julie’s mysterious bruises.

How’d I find it? I comb horror lists every year, and The Grip of It makes repeat appearances. Spotting the unsettling cover at Greedy Reads inspired me to take it home.

Who will enjoy this book? The destabilizing effect of The Grip of It recalls Charlie Kaufman’s I’m Thinking of Ending Things or the more recent (but decidedly less satisfying) Barbarian. Horror fans, you must pick this up.

What stood out? Jemc knows how to spook a reader, and The Grip of It leaves one panting with dread. A scene involving a Mardi Gras mask had me tossing and turning all night. The book is content to leave many of its questions unanswered, including the motives of the voyeuristic neighbor next door. Successful elements aside, the language can become overworked in more emotional moments (“we buck and shatter against the tedium,” for example).

Which line made me feel something? “There is still a chance that everything might be true, that we both might be filled with scars and substances that cause our synapses to fire inefficiently, that cause us to make decisions that are unwise and fantastic, and to believe what shouldn’t be believed, but that is not to say that the world outside our minds is reasonable. That is just to say there is no sense in knowing where the line is drawn.”

Generations by Lucille Clifton

4/5 stars

What’s it about? Lucille Clifton sketches her family tree as she journeys with her family to her father’s home for his funeral. Each section is dedicated to one of Clifton’s ancestors, but others crowd in with their own tales and entanglements, mimicking the jockeying and overlappings within any family. Honest, powerful, and brimming with love and pride.

How’d I find it? I found this book by happenstance at Enoch Pratt Free Library and can never resist an NYRB title. This was gobbled up over beers while a football game held surrounding friends rapt.

Who will enjoy this book? At less than 90 pages, Generations is worth any reader’s attention. Folks who liked Memorial Drive by Natasha Trethewey, Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi, and Ordinary Light by Tracy K. Smith, who opens Generations with a beautifully written introduction, will particularly appreciate this title.

What stood out? The structure of the book reinvents the memoir genre. Clifton curates an impactful collage of photos, dialogue, secondhand stories, memories, lines from Walt Whitman, and snippets of her journey to Buffalo. This is the experience of a funeral in real time, recreating the barrage of interconnectedness that loss unleashes, the lore we fall into when surrounded by the people who made us possible.

Which line made me feel something? “Things don’t fall apart. Things hold. Lines connect in thin ways that last and last and lives become generations made out of pictures and words just kept. ‘We come out of it better than they did, Lue,’ my Daddy said, and I watch my six children and know we did.”

A History of Present Illness by Anna DeForest

4/5 stars

What’s it about? A medical student recounts her training as a doctor, meditating on her path to medicine, the failures of modern care, and the mystery of existence. DeForest plays with truth and perception in this odd, dark novel that lingers.

How’d I find it? I had read a review of this book in the New York Times last year and came across it at Enoch Pratt Free Library. I enjoyed this enough to want to buy my own copy to flip through again later.

Who will enjoy this book? The tone, length, and bending of reality in A History of Present Illness reminded me of Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin, but its ennui shares much with Jenny Offill’s Weather.

What stood out? Every dreary, dreamy book on existence brings something a touch different to the table, and A History of Present Illness serves up the jaded view of a physician reckoning with death, all the more convincing since DeForest is a neurologist herself. I loved how our narrator tells the reader little lies throughout, manipulating and editing her story as she goes. She’s a challenging character through which to experience medical school and residency, and it makes for compelling reading.

Which line made me feel something? “Remember looking in the mirror as a child, saying your name? This face, you’d think, these hands. This house and yard and mother, going to bed without dinner on cabbage night, jumping from the roof of the shed. The bravery of it all, the obvious import. But this is how it ends: surrounded by strangers, your clothes cut off with shears, cold blue hands, and gone then, with your body humiliated and left alone to stiffen.”

A Lucky Man by Jamel Brinkley

4/5 stars

What’s it about? Jamel Brinkley’s smartly written debut offers nine snapshots of young people grappling with sexuality, masculinity, race, and family. Set mostly in New York City and its environs, A Lucky Man confronts pain while stoking hope.

How’d I find it? I chanced upon this copy at a book sale at the Chevy Chase Neighborhood Library.

Who will enjoy this book? If you liked Edward P. Jones’ Lost in the City, which centers on DC, and Heads of the Colored People by Nafissa Thompson-Spires, pick up A Lucky Man.

What stood out? I wanted Brinkley’s characters to talk to each other, to hold each other close, to say what they mean. The brothers in “J’ouvert, 1996.” Wolf and his father. But A Lucky Man isn’t about tidy endings. These stories gesture towards beginnings, the moments that define our lives later. Brinkley possesses a delicate ear for storytelling. With rare exceptions (certain moments in “Everything the Mouth Eats” come to mind), he knows exactly when to pull back and when to feed the reader more.

Which line made me feel something? From “Infinite Happiness:” “When you boiled it down, his language had just a handful of words, and few of them made any sense. They evaporated as soon as they left his mouth. He was so confident when he said them, even though his entire store of knowledge and wisdom was suspect. It didn’t matter in the end, because of the way he made you feel.”

The Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches by Matsuo Basho, translated by Nobuyuki Yuasa

4/5 stars

What's it about? This trim volume unites five travel sketches by Basho: The Records of a Weather-Exposed Skeleton, A Visit to the Kashima Shrine, The Records of a Travel-Worn Satchel, A Visit to Sarashina Village, and The Narrow Road to the Deep North. Through haiku and reflections on sights encountered, Basho revels in time on the road. Nobuyuki Yuasa’s introduction enriches the reading experience with context about the development of poetics in Japan. A vivid snapshot of the poet’s life.

How’d I find it? My spouse has been imploring me to read this book for years, especially since we spent our honeymoon in Japan. I finally acquiesced.

Who will enjoy this book? This strangely reminded me of the book by Patti Smith I just read. Thich Nhat Hanh is another readalike in tone.

What stood out? The mix of prose and poetry provides a textured account of 17th century Japan and invites you to read outside. I also appreciated the maps in the back of the book for details about Basho’s journeys throughout the country. Bursts of wit surprise throughout the sketches and make for light chuckles.

Which line made me feel something? From The Narrow Road to the Deep North: “Move, if you can hear, / Silent mound of my friend, / My wails and the answering / Roar of autumn wind.”

They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us by Hanif Abdurraqib

4/5 stars

What's it about? In this collection of essays, Hanif Abdurraqib examines how music and performance influence and are influenced by culture, race, and coming-of-age experiences, an opportunity for reflections on the author’s own upbringing in Columbus, Ohio. Probing, eloquent, and personally generous.

How’d I find it? Ever since I read this poem by Abdurraqib, I’ve been collecting everything he puts out. This copy was purchased at Solid State Books.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Jia Tolentino’s Trick Mirror, Hilton Als’ White Girls, and Roxane Gay’s writing should like They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us.

What stood out? Abdurraqib hinges his social meditations on a variety of artists —Chance the Rapper, Carly Rae Jepsen, and Fall Out Boy, to name a few —that allows him to scan an impressive breadth of subject matter, and he meets the challenge handsomely in beautifully crafted and passionate pieces. Abdurraqib’s mastery as a poet can be both a blessing and a curse in a dense book of short essays like this; his stylistic flourishes get sometimes tired during a longer reading session.

Which line made me feel something? “If you believe that it rained in Ohio on the night Allen Iverson hit Michael Jordan with a mean crossover, you will also believe that I know this by the sound that lingered in the air after my small cheering, the way rain can sometimes sound like an echo of applause if it hits a roof hard enough. You will also believe that I know this by the way an unexpected puddle can slow down a basketball’s dribble on blacktop, especially if the basketball is losing some of its traction, some of the grip that it had in its younger days.”

The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley

4/5 stars

What's it about? In three essays, Aldous Huxley dissects the visionary experience and its attainment through mind-altering drugs. Of particular enjoyment is “Heaven and Hell,” in which Huxley discusses non-pharmacological means of transcendence, such as art and breath work. Compelling, dense, and effective in its call to seek the “Mind at Large.”

How’d I find it? I came to this book through Michael Pollan’s How to Change Your Mind, a book club selection for Solid State Books.

Who will enjoy this book? In addition to those intrigued by How to Change Your Mind, this book might also appeal to readers of Eckhart Tolle.

What stood out? Huxley advocates relaxing the brain’s survival-focused filter from time to time to expand one’s perception and feel true being. In addition to the mescalin and LSD he champions, Huxley unconvincingly argues that color, light, and physical exertion can free the mind but fail to impress our oversaturated and modern sensibilities. His thoughts about how theatrics and alcohol interact with transcendence and religion seem somewhat unresearched but offer food for thought to expand one’s own ideas.

Which line made me feel something? “Visionary experience is not the same as mystical experience. Mystical experience is beyond the realm of opposites. Visionary experience is still within that realm. Heaven entails hell, and ‘going to heaven’ is no more liberation than is the descent into horror. Heaven is merely a vantage point, from which the divine Ground can be more clearly seen than on the level of ordinary individualized existence.”

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah

4/5 stars

What's it about? In a not-so-alternate America, incarcerated people can win their freedom by fighting to the death in gladiatorial matches. The novel centers on lovers and beloved fighters Loretta Thurwar and Hamara “Hurricane Staxxx” Stacker, with diversions to other characters to round out the brutal landscape of bloodsport: fellow participants killing to save themselves, fans Wil and Emily, protestors Kai and Nile, and the suits and ties behind the horrific Criminal Action Penal Entertainment (CAPE) program. A page-turner about humanity, survival, and oppression in America.

How’d I find it? Excitedly awaiting this book’s release after enjoying Friday Black, I picked up a copy at Solid State Books.

Who will enjoy this book? Those who enjoyed the horror and competition of The Hunger Games and Battle Royale will like this debut novel.

What stood out? Adjei-Brenyah’s world-building in Chain-Gang All-Stars generates a society both horrific and believable, bolstered by writing that is crisp and at times gorgeous. He makes his characters lovable; you’ll root for all of the CAPE fighters (except for Simon J. Craft perhaps). The sense of surveillance permeates the book: cameras flit around heads, “hard-action sports” announcers await their cues, viewers at homes binge series on wall-sized screens. My only beef is the heavy-handedness of the novel’s social justice bent; the statistics about the current prison system can feel like finger wagging.

Which line made me feel something? From the chapter titled “Sing-Attica-Sing”: “Does disappearing one person from the earth clean it some? I seen men I knew were a danger to the world and they too deserve better than this. A shame for me to hope for better, but I know it’s better that can be done. Ain’t no magic potions for these bleeding human hearts.”

Girlfriend on Mars by Deborah Willis

4/5 stars

What's it about? Environmentalist and former evangelical and aspiring Olympian Amber Kivinen abandons her boyfriend of fourteen years to compete on a reality show for the chance to join the first manned mission to Mars. A tender, funny, and at times didactic debut about ambition, love, and human greed.

How’d I find it? This book found me. While shelving at Solid State Books, I discovered this fabulous cover and had to have it.

Who will enjoy this book? Lovers of reality TV will adore this book and its satire.

What stood out? You know what? My enjoyment of this book gets 5/5 stars. I read all 300+ pages over the course of three days while working full-time and could not get enough of the hilariously obnoxious cast of characters: restless Amber, her boyfriend Kevin, the MarsNow contestants, slimeball billionaire Geoff Task, and Kevin’s stoner besties. Willis completely sticks the landing (hehe) in a surprising and satisfying way that absolves the novel of some clunky bursts of sentimentality and climate change warnings. It took me awhile to warm to Kevin’s narration every other chapter, as the breaking of the fourth wall and persistence of his gloom distracted from all the fun of the reality show’s taping.

tl;dr — read this one.

Which line made me feel something? “She chose this barren place and now she’s scraped out, empty, mourning everything. The smell of a red pepper when you cut it open. The pattern of rain on a window. The feel of water on her skin. She misses birdsong, even a crow’s cackle. Her dad’s voice. The smell of her mom’s hair.”