My January in reading
New year, new books. I’m already off to a strong start with 7 books in January.
River of Teeth and Taste of Marrow by Sarah Gailey (narrated by Peter Berkrot)
At my friend’s annual New Year’s Eve party, I was regaling another guest—who I’d never met before—with the harrowing tale of the 1948 Idaho Beaver Drop. (Mercifully few beavers were harmed in the making of this ridiculous plan.) In response, they said: “Did you ever hear about the time when there was a meat shortage in the U.S., so Congress almost—.” I interrupted them to finish their sentence: “—almost imported hippopotamuses and raised them for meat in the swamps of Louisiana?!?!” Great minds think alike. They then informed me that Sarah Gailey had published some alternate history novellas about a U.S. in which the hippos had come to our shores. I listened to both books on my way back to Louisville, and I enjoyed them very much. Queer cowboy stories with hippos instead of cows or horses. Also, explosions. What’s not to love?
How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell
This should be required reading for literally everyone on the planet. As a confirmed socialist, I thought I was already on to companies’ tricks to rob us of our agency, creativity, and dignity—but Odell’s book opened my eyes to how social media specifically plays a role in preventing us from living full lives. It’s not an anti-tech screed, though. Instead, Odell asks us be mindful about how we use social media, recognizing how the companies that own these platforms want us to think and act. Rather than literally doing nothing, it’s a call to give our minds the quiet space they need to reflect and create, without these platforms filling that space with content to serve the interests of large corporations. I highly recommend this one.
This book has been near the top of my TBR pile for a while, and I’m glad I finally got around to it. Historical fiction about two of Europe’s most enigmatic and eccentric royals? Sign me up. In alternating chapters, the novel tells the story of the Austrian Empress Sisi—who was famously more concerned with her long, beautiful hair and her tiny waist than she was with her children—and her cousin King Ludwig of Bavaria—whose mental illness caused him to spend the kingdom’s money on a series of fairytale castles and lavish stagings of Wagner operas, and who was likely gay. It would be easy to write a scathing book about these two vain and out-of-touch historical figures, but Jemc treats them with empathy, even as she recognizes their absurdity. The description on the Macmillan website calls it a “social satire,” but I wouldn’t put it that way. I think Jemc wrote a kinder book than that, giving both the royals rich and elaborate inner lives. It was beautiful, even sentimental.
Journey Under the Sea by R.A. Montgomery and Planet of the Dragons by Richard Brightfield
It’s a long story, but for research purposes I’ve been reading some classic Choose Your Own Adventure novels. When I was little, I read some of the Goosebumps versions, but I don’t think I ever ready any Choose Your Own Adventure brand books—until now. Obviously they give readers more agency than in a typical book; they use the second person you, and they give readers the option to choose various paths, leading to various outcomes. I followed several paths in each book and met several different ends, from being trapped in an underwater zoo to piloting a mechanical dragon. Considering these are aimed at kids, I was surprised at how often certain paths lead to death. “You die” happens a lot in these stories. But I suppose it’s not that different from playing a video game. At any rate, I thought these were fun. Why don’t they ever do this in adult novels? We want to choose our own adventure, too!
Bloodwarm by Taylor Byas
Most of the poems in Byas’ collection detail the Black American experience—especially the constant experience of dread, unease, and uncertainty. It’s like a horror story, except the horror story is real life. The entire book is good, but I was completely blown over by the final poem, “Geophagia.” You should definitely pick up a copy.