Proving I Can Read By Writing a Top Ten List
Stick around to the end, there's a really good burn on my least favorite author.
Every day the internet pumps out Top [X] lists. They seem to breed like flies at the end of the year, and especially at the end of a decade. Like mushroom-encrusted logs these lists form an important part of the internet’s ecosystem, allowing weird Romanian clickfarmers to make money off the naivety of certain internet users. But it’s not just random sketchy individuals who partake in the listicle scrum. Buzzfeed made its name off of lists, as well as a few ad dollars of yours truly. Back when I had more free time and nothing to do with it I made more than a fewer semi-popular lists for the site through their “Community Portal.” Respectable sites such as Vulture, Spin, Pitchfork, AVClub, etc., etc., all publish lists. Lists pop up in every part of the internet.
The appeal of the format is obvious. Easy to read, controversy generating and cost-efficient to produce, resisting the siren call of the list just does not make sense for the large majority of publications. I certainly don’t want to denigrate the noble list. As with all genres of writing, they act as a vessel for the author’s words. The quality of the writing makes a list good or bad, not the genre itself. Just like how writing and performing a rap song does not automatically make you a good rapper, no matter what Macklemore thinks.
Having raised expectations higher than they ever should be for this particular newsletter, the next part of this encompasses a list of the Top Ten Books I’ve Read This Year. It might not clear the bar of “great list,” but it’ll hopefully at least hurdle over the “bad” bar.
10. Ink – Hal Duncan
Ink follows the hallucinatory madness of Vellum, a book I’ve written about before. While Ink doesn’t quite reach the heights of its predecessor, this mix of ancient Sumerian cosmology, Christianity, homosexuality, science-fiction, and psychology contains more than its fair share of excellent moments. Trippy character development, ruminations on sex, history, and religion, and a constant feeling of being lost make this novel a must read.
9. The Weaver – Emma Itäranta
A Finnish novelist, Itäranta develops a wonderful post-apocalyptic world where nightmares have been banned. Set on an island, The Weaver sets up a wonderful new place and immediately sets at picking it apart, crafting wonderful characters and dazzling descriptions. A melancholy work, Itäranta deftly combines the sense of unease layered throughout the work with gripping pacing and a masterly creation of an eerie atmosphere. A great winter read.
8. Arcadian America - Aaron Sachs
Arcadian America made me cry. As the only history book to do that so far, and probably the only that will ever do that, I have to recommend it. Unlike a traditional historical monograph Sachs weaves personal memoir throughout his work making the history deeply personal and affecting. Sachs traces the idea of “Arcadia” in the United States, looking at how ideas of horticulture, cemeteries, and environment developed and changed in post-Civil War America. Accessible even for people not familiar with the specifics of the historiography recognizable characters such as Thoreau and Whitman share space with lesser known poets, writers and urban designers. A history book written with style in mind.
7. The Fifth Season – N.K. Jemisin
N.K. Jemisin slaps. The Fifth Season, the first in the Broken Earth trilogy, came out a while ago, but I only got to it this year. While perhaps not quite as excellent as The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, it’s worth your time. Taking place on a world wracked by earthquakes, with the only people who can regulate them under the brutal thumb of the central government, it follows two people’s attempts to take control of their lives. Even though the book jumps throughout time following multiple threads, it never leaves you at sea, lost in the words. Jemisin navigates these perils and more, offering a book that tackles difficult subjects in an engaging and entertaining way.
6. Bring the War Home – Kathleen Belew
Of all the works on this list this one takes the “Most Disturbing” cake. Looking to trace the rise of white nationalism in the United States Belew, a professor at the University of Chicago, pinpoints the Vietnam War as the point of origin for modern white nationalist groups. Uncovering the multitude of connections between the supposed “lone gunmen” at Ruby Ridge, Waco, and the Oklahoma City bombing, Belew convincingly argues that the white nationalist movement in America consists not of loners chatting on internet boards, but compromises many groups that share resources, ideology and training regimens. Belew marks how Vietnam War veterans came back from the war having lost trust in the government, while maintain their military training. A disturbing and vital work.
5. Borne – Jeff VanderMeer
Jeff VanderMeer has taken his place in the fiction elite. A wonderful storyteller who combines excellent prose with gripping plot and an intense interest in the environment VanderMeer deserves your time. Borne, a post-apocalyptic novel, possibly taking place on Earth, revolves around a scavenger, a giant bear and a potentially alien being. I read this in basically a day at the beach in Barcelona. While it meant that the only book I had brought on vacation was done, I couldn’t have been happier for finishing it. Wonderful world building and the perfect amount of “weird” mixed with excellent characters and action. Good shit.
4. How to Hide an Empire – Daniel Immerwahr
In How to Hide an Empire Immerwahr offers a historical look at the development and maintenance of America’s Empire. Noting America’s vast overseas possessions from the 19th century onward Immerwahr traces how the public and the government discussed these territories. Noting that public discussion of these territories all but disappeared around WWII Immerwahr looks at the U.S.’s vast web of territory outside of the states and the controversies surrounding it. Engagingly written and a very fun read, Immerwahr highlights several truly revealing and interesting stories about the U.S. There is also an entire chapter about bat shit, so that’s fun. Immerwahr, a professor at Northwestern, h2as gotten some guff from a few historians about this book, but in my opinion, it’s mostly because they’re jealous.
3. My Life as a Spy – Katherine Verdery
Verdery, a famous anthropologist at John Hopkins delivers a gut-punch of book with My Life as a Spy. Verdery, a Romanian specialist and the first American to do fieldwork in Communist Romanian, investigates the file composed about her by the Romanian intelligence service. She discovers that people who she considered life-long friends had been reporting to the government about her. As the story unfolds it becomes clear that the communist leadership considered her a U.S. spy and tracked her every movement accordingly. The cover phot is a shot of Verdery in her underwear taken by a secret camera hidden in her hotel room. A discussion of fieldwork, identity, and Communism, this part-memoir, part-anthro book is a masterwork from a master of the field.
2. The Book of Dust: The Secret Commonwealth – Philip Pullman
Pullman rules. The author of the His Dark Materials trilogy returns to that world with the second book in his follow-up trilogy The Book of Dust. Revisiting the world of Lyra’s Oxford years after the events of the His Dark Materials, Pullman concerns himself with the dangers of objectivism, and theocracy. Expanding upon the world he built in His Dark Materials, The Secret Commonwealth contains rich descriptions of space both physical and emotional. A master of the cliff-hanger, Pullman juggles many narrative threads in a truly engaging way. While His Dark Materials nominally continues to be a children’s book, The Secret Commonwealth breaks away from that, fully entering the world of adult literature while still maintaining its core of discovery and wonder.
1. Plutopia – Kate Brown
The United States has done some messed up stuff. In Plutopia Kate Brown looks at the Cold War-era development of plutonium plants in the U.S. and in Russia. Doing incredible work with sources in both languages, Brown uncovers wild story after wilder story, detailing how both superpowers knowingly infected the environments around their plutonium plants in pursuit of more and more production. While both governments have largely denied the effects of their research, Brown talks to former workers at the plants who provide insight into their day-to-day tasks. She also encounters people who absolutely refuse to say a bad word about their former employers on both sides of the former Iron Curtain. Well-researched, at times gut-wrenching, and engaging, Plutopia takes the number-one spot. A good ass book.
Every book on this list is good. I hope you try at least one of them. You could even borrow a copy from me if you want. Just hit me up.
The worst book I read this year? Your posts. Freaking Burned