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What with Christmas coming and all, this time around I thought I’d recommend a bunch of books I’ve enjoyed in the past couple of years that are not theology, cookbooks, or novels at all. In the department of “why are we like this and how did we get this way?” I’ll recommend: Wulf, Magnificent Rebels: a lively narrative of German poets and philosophers at the end of the eighteenth century who went a long way toward creating the unexamined assumptions that govern Western culture today. Stop blaming capitalism and blame these guys instead. Then thank them. It’s complicated. Woodard, American Nations: a historical and sociological survey of regional cultural differences in (most of) North America, demonstrating why what reads as “American” or for that matter “un-American” can be so different from place to place. I was a little shocked to discover that I’m a Quaker—politically speaking, anyway. In this case, understanding did much to increase charity. Courtwright, Age of Addiction: Lots of studies examine how addiction became a dominating experience and metaphor for our lives today; this one takes a long historical view to see how we got here, and also strategies throughout history for dealing with addiction. Sobering—no pun intended. Delano, Unshrunk: a recent memoir about the mental health-industrial complex, disturbing in the personal history recorded and hopeful in the prospects for better ways of dealing with hard realities. Moss, Vanishing New York: Like most New Yorkers, I complain that New York isn’t what it used to be. I suspected nostalgia was to blame, along with long absence, until I learned from Moss that New York really isn’t what it used to be, and there are many reasons—chiefly political and economic. Disappointed, nostalgic New Yorkers will find all their complaints justified herein, itself a very New York move. Kling, Three Languages of Politics: a useful paradigm for understanding how it is we talk past each other, but also how the lens you use determines what you see. Consider it good preparation for Thanksgiving dinner. In the department of “sheer delight” I’ll recommend: Griffith, Three Rocks: a graphic novel about Ernie Bushmiller and his comic strip “Nancy.” I know, you can’t imagine anything that would delight you less. Trust me on this one. It’s so compelling that I couldn’t read anything else till I finished. Newfound veneration for this easy-to-despise strip. Mitchell, Love and War in Corsica: I found this on my library app while hiking in Corsica over the summer. It was a slow burn, like Corsica on a July day, but had me completely enraptured by the end. The last sentence is possibly the best last sentence of any book I’ve ever read for both clarifying and calling into question everything that preceded it. Leslie, John and Paul: It is astonishing that nobody even thought to write this book before, an in-depth study of the friendship between Lennon and McCartney. But probably nobody could’ve done it better than Ian Leslie. As a lifelong though untimely-born Beatles fan, I loved-loved-loved this book. There is something tremendous about the fact that one friendship could’ve exploded into so much joy and consolation for so many people, while also remaining fraught, intense, and utterly personal. Taleb, Antifragile: or anything else by Taleb, for that matter. Be prepared for an attitude that is as dazzling as it is irritable. The sheer preponderance of insights more than repays the feeling that you’re being smacked around for being an idiot. Brooks, All about Me!: Definitely get the audiobook version of this to hear the irrepressible Mel Brooks tell you his version of his hilarious career, hilariously. Marx, Harpo Speaks!: no audiobook for this one, despite the ironic title. The depiction of being an American kid in the earliest twentieth century would’ve made the whole thing worthwhile on its own. And of course, it’s great fun learning about the crucible through which the still brilliantly funny Marx Brothers movies came to be. Wollstonecraft, Vindication of the Rights of Woman: Yes, this one counts in the category of sheer delight. I think it’s misnamed; I’d call it, “An exhortation to human beings, male and female alike, to grow up and grow in wisdom for the sake of the world and especially for the sake of the next generation.” This proto-feminist classic is an integrative look at what makes for flourishing and still contains profound wisdom for the ongoing battle between the sexes today. Barfield, Saving the Appearances: not an easy read, I’ll grant you. And about 10% sheer lunacy, though I suspect if you’re going to reach 90% staggering brilliance you’ll need a good measure of lunacy to get you there. It’s almost impossible to describe what this book is, other than an effort to rearrange your mental furniture so that you come out thinking differently about objects, words, and relationships. If that doesn’t quite convince you, bear in mind that C. S. Lewis adored Owen Barfield and wrote The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe for his daughter Lucy.
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