on summer reading
I wrote this post a few months ago. It's long past end-of-summer-season, closer to edge-of-winter season, but I am simply posting it anyway, for the nostalgia, and the books.
When I was younger, I attended an at-home daycare before and after the school day and then all throughout the summers. Some summer days, when there were only a few of us in the house, Miss Jenn would pile us into her minivan and drive us to the public library. The big kids were responsible for getting the babies in their car seats, and Miss Jenn would go through and check them all before we began the pilgrimage out of her quiet neighborhood and toward downtown, where the library sat atop a hill, tucked amongst a clutch of trees.
The library in my hometown looks like a castle, but the inside was sterile--a plain foyer opened up to grey carpet and a circulation desk that was equally drab. But then we'd turn into the children's room, which seemed to burst with color and excitement. I'd check out ten, twenty at a time---Magic Tree House, Geronimo Stilton, The Spiderwick Chronicles, and the still-meme-able Animorphs. The librarian would give us a sheet of colored card stock with what looked like a Candy Land board printed on it, and for each book that we read, we could color in a square. Every ten spaces we colored, we could return to the library for a prize, like a water bottle or a drawstring bag; an even bigger prize waited for us if we could fill the whole board.
Miss Jenn took care of kids of all ages, from babies to elementary schoolers and then beyond, as I and her daughter grew older, and so in the summers we'd have "quiet time," where the little kids would take their naps and the big kids would lay down in the finished basement. Cuddled up in blankets and with the only light coming in through a single window, and I'd read and read and read.
As I've aged, the summer became less about reading and more about things like swimming and surfing the internet, doing summer homework or art projects at my desk. Reading was still a part of my summers, but it was no longer the main event.
To call reading the main event of this past summer would be a stretch. I had plenty else on my plate---but I was also working at the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh Oakland branch, one of the most beautiful libraries I have ever been in and perhaps one of my favorite places on this planet. The last of the staff, including myself, returned to in-person services in late June with a new model of service. Instead of staying in our special departments, we would be responsible for all different parts of the library. Instead of staying in the second floor reference room, it was now my responsibility to, at various times, wander the stacks; watch over the teen space and the children's room; and roam the first floor, making the library look presentable and offering help to any patron who looked lost.
Inevitably, I would end these first floor and stacks stints with a pile of books to check out, even though I had a pile at home that I hadn't touched yet. I was giddy with the returned possibility of physical books---not the ones I could buy, with their stiff pages and un-cracked spines, but the ones that had seen the insides of other bags and other homes, with the plastic covers that crinkled beautifully every time I opened them, and clucked and clacked when I placed them in my backpack.
Needless to say, I read a lot this summer. Here are some favorites. ( I loved nearly everything).
The Memory Theatre Karin Tidbeck
This book made me want to start writing fiction again. Fairy tale-esque stories often do—there’s something about the genre that is magnetic for me. In the magical land of the Gardens, a group of faerie-like lords and ladies (think Midsummer's Night Dream) rule over their servants with violence and capriciousness. When two young servants escape, they embark on a quest to find their family.
It’s a very simple story. A quest, a villain, a traversing between worlds, a bit of inexplicable magic, or merely unreality. It feels less like magic and more like different worlds playing by different rules. Tidbeck’s spare prose is an asset—it leaves a lot to the imagination, letting the plot, characters, and setting bloom in the reader’s imagination in their own way.
THICK: And Other Essays Tressie McMillan Cottom
This short collection of essays packs a punch. No sentence or word is wasted; each carries weight and music as Cottom investigates Black culture, beauty standards, class, privilege, academia, and her own experiences as a Black woman in America.
She enters some essays with assumptions on what the reader already understands---this book is clearly for those already in The Discourse. But don't let that dissuade you. Cottom either put beautiful words to thoughts I'd been swimming in already, or illuminated something new with astounding clarity. Her wit is biting, sometimes laugh-out-loud funny, and the way she writes grief is singular.
The Bone Clocks David Mitchell
I read Cloud Atlas a few years ago, and this is a slightly less colorful, more confusing, but intensely more character-focused version. The world-building is a little pretentious and labyrinthine, but ultimately Mitchell so intensely embodies each character, in voice and thought, that you kind of can't help but be immersed.
Holly Sykes grew up hearing voices, but didn't think much about it until her younger brother Jacko disappeared. This tragedy sets off decades of mystical intrigue, featuring immortals, reincarnation, and other dimensions. This was a slow build, and perhaps not to everyone's taste---but I found myself gobbling it up anyway.
Blowout Rachel Maddow
This book takes two things we already know---Oil is bad. Putin is bad---and makes them fresh, fascinating, and horrifying. Maddow traces the history of natural gas and oil in the US, and how the industry has been intertwined with Russian politics and corruption.
This book has everything in it. Spy intrigue, naval disaster, corruption and political drama, dynamic and charming villains, disarming science and history, and environmental catastrophes. It's an incredible collection of history and reporting. Maddow's strong editorializing and sarcastic one-liners may not be for everyone, but I raced through this book for a new perspective on international politics or environmental issues.
The Old Drift Namwali Serpell
There is nothing I love so much as a multi-generational family saga. This one takes place in Zambia, following the intertwining lives of three families---two colonial (Italian and Anglo) and one native Zambian, from the early days of Anglo invasion, to a parallel present, to a slightly dystopian near-future.
The arcs of the characters are beautifully rendered, as is every setting that Serpell writes. The narrator is that delicious third-person omniscient that hints at the future and paints the past. Side characters and side "quests" are just as engaging as the main ones. And as with all multi-generational sagas, I love the way time moves; the returning and path-crossing and intertwining of all the characters.
The Hazel Wood Melissa Albert
Alice and her mother have been on the run from bad luck ever since she can remember, and the book begins when they receive word that Althea, Alice's estranged grandmother and author of a cult classic book of fairy tales, has died on her mysterious estate, called Hazel Wood. Soon after they receive word of Althea's death, Alice's mother disappears, leaving behind only one clue—stay away from the Hazel Wood.
The narrator and protagonist, Alice, took a long time to grow on me, but the end is so rich and lush and all loose ends are tied so neatly---much in the way of all fairy tales, this book is some parts dark, some parts beautiful. It gets under your skin and touches something vital.
Fulfillment: Winning and Losing in One-Click America Alec MacGillis
If you were looking for a reason to quit your Amazon Prime subscription, this is it. This is a recent history of the United States, not dissimilar from George Packer's Unwinding, which I've also written about here, only through the lens of the rise of Amazon.
MacGillis peers at the company from all different angles---health and safety, technology, development, economics, political and legal---to show how Amazon has repeatedly insisted on circumventing the rules to the detriment of nearly everyone. What struck me most was how clearly and shamelessly Amazon has exploited its size to get tax break after tax break without giving any returns to communities, or even cities and states. Captivating, enraging, and devastating.
Klara and the Sun Kazuo Ishiguro
I watched Never Let Me Go and sobbed hysterically and didn't trust myself to read the book by Ishiguro in which it was based. When Klara and the Sun was published, to much fanfare, I almost didn't read it---so overhyped, I saw it absolutely everywhere.
There are things I didn't like about this book, but ultimately I am very very glad I read it after all. A lifelike robot serves as a friend for a mysteriously ill young teenager and tasks herself with saving the girl's life. I love the way Ishiguro unravels family secrets and the world of the novel itself. The titular character, the AF Klara---the novel is told through her voice, and it is such a delicate, beautiful, engaging voice. I would read the novel just for her and her perspective.
Made in China Amelia Pang
A Goodwill administrator opens a two-year old box of Halloween decorations bought from Kmart, and finds an SOS letter from the Chinese political prisoner who crafted it while in prison.
Pang's research unravels the web of coercion, repression, torture, and surveillance that has filled Chinese prisons and "re-education camps" with prisoners of conscience---religious adherents, ethnic minorities, political dissenters, any who threaten the Communist Party's ideal of the country. This book taught me a lot about the violence dissenters face in China, as well as the way Western demand for lots of cheap goods turns a blind eye to, and even encourages, the use of forced labor. Incredibly haunting, well-composed, and well-researched. In the end, Pang makes concrete suggestions for how we might make things better.
The Magic Fish Trung Le Nguyễn
Who ever said that reading graphic novels isn't real reading? This book made me realize what I've been missing out on the past few years. It tells the story of a young first-generation immigrant from Vietnam. Despite a language barrier, he bonds with his mother through the fairy tales they share, and is struggling to find the words to tell her he's gay.
This made me cry big tears. The book is charming, it's heart-wrenching, it's wholesome. The art is beautiful. There are panels that made me gasp out loud. Nguyen has a way with line and texture and movement that goes unparalleled. I cannot recommend it enough.
The Library Book Susan Orlean
I love love love libraries, and so does Susan Orlean. I almost didn't read this book, foolishly wondering what she could say that I didn't already know or think about libraries. But with this book, it wasn't really about learning new things---and I did learn a lot---but reading the perfect words for the experiences and feelings that I have had in libraries, around books, and for the work that I very briefly took part in myself. Her knack for scene, for people, and for finding the slightly miraculous absolutely shines.
Orlean writes about the past and future of libraries through the lens of the Los Angeles public library system, especially its Central Branch—at the same time tracing the mystery of its fire in the 80s and the man accused of setting it. I could barely put this down until I finished it. An absolute treat for any bibliophile.
What have been your favorite recent reads?
Thanks for reading & take care!
—mia xx