Neil Pasricha's Monthly Book Club - February 2024
Neil's Monthly Book Club is my oldest and most popular email newsletter. Click here to subscribe.
Hey everyone,
Hope you’ve had a great February.
I got so many generous replies to my recent blog post on death. Thank you for your love, poems, thoughts.
On the podcast, I feel like we’re in a wonderful flow. Today's the full moon — this minute actually, look up! — so I'll send a letter about it to those of you on my 3 Books email list after lunch with details. Upcoming guests include Celine Song, Susan Orlean, Jonathan Franzen, Maria Popova. As always, if you have a guest suggestion, just give me a shout at 1-833-READ-A-LOT. (Yes, this is my phone number.)
And now, as we’ve done every month since October 2016, here is every single book I read this month along with my honest review. Few were tough to write this month. I don't love trashing Harry Potter. But, as always, nobody can buy their way onto my book club and nobody can buy their way off.
Know someone who'd like to join our reading or hopeful-to-read-more tribe? Just forward them this email. Howdy, newcomer! Great to be with you and you can sign up right here.
Now let’s hit the books…
Neil
1. The Trial by Franz Kafka. “No one’s got Kafka these days,” Patrick told me recently, petting his cat behind the counter at the underground used bookstore mecca Seekers. “Can’t keep him in stock. Nobody can. Hits too close to home these days.” Could that be true? No used bookstore in all of Toronto has anything written by the 1883-born Franz Kafka? This is a guy who instructed his buddy Max to burn all his unpublished books after he died. Max, sharp dude, did the opposite. I went hunting in a few used bookstores – gotta buy Kafka used, I figured! – but eventually caved in and went online to AbeBooks to find the 1954 edition of the 1925 publication of the 1914 written book that sounds like a 100-year-in-the-future prophecy of our low-trust surveillance state. First sentence sets the scene: “Someone must have been telling lies about Joseph K. for without having done anything wrong he was arrested one fine morning.” Why? “We are not authorized to tell you that,” say the cops, who are mercilessly beaten in a closet later on. This is a slowly-closing-in-on-all-sides tale of foreboding. Can you imagine being arrested by a remote, inaccessible authority, without your crime being revealed to you? Maybe doesn't seem as farfetched as it should! There's a reason kafkaesque became a word, after all. Max stitched the chapters together from Franz’s handwritten scraps so chapters do feel occasionally ... stitched together. But it does all add up to a highly engrossing, wonderfully paced, increasingly bleak book that gave me skin-crawling anxiety. Yet there is art in the bleakness! Reflection and thundering thematic resonance across space and time. Highly recommended.
2. 150 Bookstores You Need to Visit Before You Die by Elizabeth Stamp. Lots to like about this book! Lots to not like, too. But let’s start with the positive: It's a beautiful, colorful collection of some of the world’s most stunning bookstores, paired with a 200-ish word writeup mentioning what makes each unique – from the “Winnie Mandela mural” (Cheche Books, Nairobi, Kenya), Pacific Northwest section (Arundel Books, Seattle, Washington), or unique, store-made stationary (Podpisnie Izdaniya, St. Petersburg, Russia). Cliffside bookstores! Main Street Mississippi bookstores! Glass boxes in the middle of Chinese jungle bookstores! Everything’s here! Or: so it seems. Then you look closer. And realize it's not. So that’s my quibble. The book just isn’t in any way … authoritative. Like here in Toronto, for instance. We’ve got one bookstore featured from the city. Great! But, no offense to Queen Books, they picked the wrong one. Type Books, which Queen Books is clearly based on, is not featured – but Type is superior. More history, more events, more weird genres (“Plotless Fiction” becoming so culty they’ve stamped it on T-shirts now.) Or what about the four-story baby-blue behemoth BMV? Way more of a standout on the Toronto bookstore scene, with its entirely-graphic-novel attic, basement full of vintage 70s pinup mags, and lock-and-key rare book glass shelves featuring $700 dictionaries. And no Monkey’s Paw? Come on. There’s a reason Monkey’s Paw is featured in Atlas Obscura. The place sells “Old and Unusual Printed Matter” and has the world’s only Biblio-Mat – an incredible book vending machine! How do you skip any of those for newbie Queen Books? Or Parnassus Books in Nashville, or The Painted Porch in Bastrop, or Nowhere Bookshop in San Antonio? How do you miss them? By… uh, not visiting. Yes, upon closer inspection, the book is written by Elizabeth Stamp, about whom we get 0 biographical info. Is she a bookseller? Book tourist? Book anything? Where does ... she live? Nobody knows! (I googled her and the answer is none of the above.) Stamp just picked, according to the intro, “bookstores I’d want to visit.” Ohhhhh. Want to visit. That’s why the Photo Credits at the back have a slew of iStockPhotos. Booooooooo! I give credit to Belgium-based Lannoo Publishing. They’ve figured something out. I know this book will look pretty on coffee tables but we need someone to fly around the world for a few years to put together something better. Who’s up for the job?
3. Great Plains by Ian Frazier. On the inside flap of this journalistic masterpiece are two faded-orange maps. The one on the left shows the “Great Plains c. 1850” with Coronado’s 1541 trail, Lewis and Clark’s 1804-1806 trail, and Parkman’s 1846 trail curling through Blackfeet, Sioux, Cheyenne, and Comanche country. The one on the right shows the “Great Plains Today”, with the same geography now labeled top-to-bottom with Montana, the Dakotas, Wyoming, Nebraska, Colorado, Kansas, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Texas. And, instead of Lewis and Clark, we get “Frazier’s Route”, with the New Yorker humorist’s black-lined 25,000-mile routemap circling these states top to bottom, around and through, as he drove through them in the 80s. Booktuber Ariel Bissett once told us that books are places – taking you somewhere you’ve never been and leaving you with a satisfying sense of visiting afterwards. In this book, a local helps you through barbed wire fences, a radio announcer comes on and says “… if there’s anything you don’t want blown away, you better tie it down”, laundromat signs scream “Do Not Wash Rig Clothes Here”, and “a spider as big as a hand crosses the pavement.” Part travelogue, part David Sedaris diary (3/2022), this is a wondrous, mind-everywhere book that feels like a long road trip. You’ll feel the sun, you’ll feel the wind, and you’ll never want to run out of gas. Highly recommended.
4. The Discomfort Zone: A Personal History by Jonathan Franzen. Between his monumental 2001 National Book Award-winning 'The Corrections' and his monumental 2010 Oprah-and-Obama-praising 'Freedom', Jonathan Franzen quietly released a slim sub-200-page memoir told in six essays. I recommend this for anybody who’s gorged on Franzen’s fiction and wonders about the inner life that’s conjuring up his magic shows. Ultimately, the life story is kind of, you know, normal. Geeky kid grows up in St. Louis suburbs, with a couple older brothers, plays pranks in school with his buddies, falls in love with birds. But the magic here is in his frankness, bluntness, honesty, and poetic, dark asides, like this paragraph about the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer: “Fabulous to be a defense contractor, shitty to be a reservist, excellent to have tenure at Princeton, grueling to be an adjunct at Queens College; outstanding to manage a pension fund, lousy to rely on one; better than ever to be bestselling, harder than ever to be mid-list; phenomenal to win a Texas Hold ‘Em tournament, a drag to be a video-poker addict.” Franzen’s keen eye turned inwards for the superfans.
5. Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis. According to the Chronicles of Narnia 'Reading Order’, this is the second book to read in the 7-book Narnia series. Start with ‘The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe’! (3/2018) First one, big one! That book came out in 1950, takes place in 1940 (Earth time), and 1000 (Narnia time). This book, ‘Prince Caspian’, came out in 1951, takes place in 1941 (Earth time), and 2303 (Narnia time). Bit of a bummer for the four Pevensie siblings to discover when they get back to Narnia the kingdom they once ruled (after defeating the White Witch in book one) has fallen into disarray. Animals hiding! Land dark! But, luckily, Prince Caspian escapes his evil stepfather, finds the talking animals, and then they all team up with the Pevensies to stage an epic battle to rule the kingdom. Not as good as the first book, I have to say. Maybe it only felt paint-by-numbers to me because it was the paint for so many fantasy series to follow. But I came away missing the rolling, swelling, poetic writing in ‘The Hobbit’, and ultimately this book helped me steel myself to finally tackle ‘The Lord of the Rings.’ Are you on Team CS or Team JRR? Kevin the Bookseller sold us hard on Lord of the Rings in that wild bouncing-around-a-bookstore chat we had back in Chapter 44. I do feel my allegiances growing to Team JRR. One series to rule them all, one series to find them...
6. Reason in a Dark Time: Why the Struggle Against Climate Change Failed – and What It Means for Our Future by Dale Jamieson. You got a great brain. Me too, if I do say so myself. We all own one of these extremely handy objects that are good at so many things! Unfortunately, solving climate change just isn’t one of them. “Evolution built us to respond to rapid movements of middle-sized objects,” writes Dale Jamieson, “not to the slow buildup of insensible gasses in the atmosphere.” Indeed. Climate change was international news 75 years ago! There was momentum. Summits! Pledges! Signatures from heads of state saying yes, yes, yes, we’ll reduce our greenhouse gas emissions. What’s happened since? The … exact opposite. The earth is heating up fast. Rising sea levels are soaking coastal cities. Climate migration is spiking. Weather patterns are in disarray. We didn’t even get snow this winter in Toronto! Why? Well, “climate change poses the world’s largest collective action problem. Each of us acting on our own desires contributes to an outcome we neither desire nor intend.” This is a necessary, detailed, devastating story of our increased awareness of human-created climate change, our failed attempts to do anything about it, and what happens next. It’s not simple! After opening with “The Nature of the Problem” and “Obstacles to Action” (which are worth the buy alone, just for the clear history presented that these days gets washed away in the slipstream of screaming on socials) the book gets into headier topics of morality and philosophy that try and pull apart the problem in the many ways we think about it. One memorable section shows the increasing abstraction that climate change plays on our minds from, you know, Jack stealing Jill’s bicycle is wrong, all the way up to “Acting independently, Jack and a large number of unacquainted people set in motion a chain of events that causes a large number of future people who will live in another part of the world from ever having bicycles.” Which is sort of what’s happening. Over 80% of global carbon emissions come from 10 countries. Who is it? That would be … us. Or people who, you know, drive, fly, buy stuff that comes from the other side of the world. Complexities of global economics and neverending disagreements on how to measure these things prevent the plastic bouncy ball bought from the dollar store and tossed in the birthday party loot bag from coming anywhere close to being properly priced. So what do we do? Jamieson closes with seven priorities: “integrate adaptation with development” (tie together the math on climate change with our goals on reducing poverty), “protect, encourage, and increase terrestrial carbon sinks” (stop cutting down rainforests and plant new ones), “full-cost energy accounting” (bouncy balls at dollar stores costing more than a buck), “raising the price of emitting greenhouse gasses” (black billowing smoke into the sky isn’t free), “force technology adoption” (like ditching coal-burning plants in favor of newer tech), and then making “substantial increases in research”, and, finally, to “plan for the Anthropocene.” We’re there, he’s saying, so let’s work on that. This is the kind of book most people will run away from. Or think the understandable “I’m just one person and I can’t possibly change things.” But we can take small acts: biking instead of driving, avoiding disposable junk, carbon offsetting flights. And, you know, at minimum, for the future of our species, being informed about what’s happened, what’s happening, and what we can help happen. Jamieson spent 25 years on this book – “I began writing when I turned 40 and handed in the manuscript when I turned 65” – and the detail, of thoughts, ideas, and research shows. It’s not an easy read. I alternated chapters on audio. (David Sedaris gave us that tip for ‘hard books’ back in Chapter 18.) But it’s a necessary read. Sure, I feel depressed, but in a much stronger, much more aware place, to at least understand what’s happening, why it happened, and then guide myself, and ideally my politicians, to keep the pressure on making change and, finally, ultimately, adapting. Highly recommended.
7. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Book 7) by J. K. Rowling. Like Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Book 6) (8/2023), I read this right when it came out. Like ten minutes after it came out. I waited in line at Chapters Rideau in Ottawa, Canada for midnight copies and was lying in bed at age 31 till the wee hours excitedly thinking “I am one of the first people in the world to be here right now!” That was 2007. But my 17-years-later self kind of withered from the few hundred extra pages of aimless Horcrux hunting in this final installment. The deep, long, somewhat pointless sidebar into Dumbledore’s sister and mom. I don’t mean to be snide. I love Harry Potter! And, I should say, that’s not all that happens. There is also the senseless murder of a major character every 50 pages. Yes, we do get the epic 100-page fight scene of Harry and Lord V circling each other in the Hogwarts atrium dispensing plot reveals (“You touched the elder wand last!”, “No, you touched the elder wand last!”). And I will always love the book for what it is, what it was to me, what it will be to my kids I’m sure: A gateway drug to reading. A ticket to the world of “books as rock stars”. I mean, J. K. Rowling did a reading of Harry Potter in the Skydome. 20,264 people (seriously) listening to an author? That’s great! That’s gold. But ultimately, I’m just sort of torn up about the revisiting. No reader steps through the same river twice, I suppose. I did enjoy watching characters like Neville in their slow-building arc and, you know, I cried half a dozen times on the pillow next to my son. You know the scenes. But I have mixed emotions. Partly surfacing, maybe, from also just watching the first Harry Potter movie. Did we ever really feel sparks between Ron and Hermione? Did we really need that ‘19 Years Later’ chapter at the end? Ultimately, Book 7 wasn’t as good as Book 6, which wasn’t as good as Book 5, which wasn’t as good as Book 4, which wasn’t as good as Book 3. OK, it was better than the first couple. I’ll give it that. Azkaban, baby! Tentpole of the series! Thanks for the trip, J. K. It was a helluva ride and I’m sure I’ll be back with my next kid.
8. Begin Again: How We Got Here, and Where We Might Go – Our Human Story. So Far. by Oliver Jeffers. This isn’t a children’s book but a long visual essay that stirs a Sapiens-like species history into a disaffected artist’s worldview with a spirited hopefulness for the future. What’s Jeffers's recipe for our post-“cogs in the machine”, Total Entertainment Forever-type present? He says we get there “By slowing down. By creating better stories. Bigger ones where we all fit inside the same powerful plot. In which we think beyond our own lifetimes.” I’m not sure what children Harper Collins Children’s Books had in mind here with this massive, thick, thirty-dollar hardcover. Feels more geared to high school art students. It’s stunning to look at – evocative neon pinks and splashy purple watercolors with cavemen walking out of oceans and inventing rocket ships. But, ultimately, a one-and-done read that’s heavy on moralizing without adding much to the conversation. I’d skip this for Oliver’s earlier books like ‘How to Catch a Star’, ‘Lost and Found’, and ‘The Way Back Home’ and even, in this newer, more zooming-up-and-out political spirit, his 2017 “Here We Are: Notes for Living on Planet Earth.” 9. There is no 9! You hit our regular loot bag of links. First up, I was stunned by this New York Times piece on "A Marketplace of Girl Influencers Managed by Moms and Stalked by Men." I was brainstorming a 'what if we got a million signatures on a petition to increase the social media age' ... but maybe that's not the right approach. What do you think? At least the UK is putting an end to phones in classrooms — Rishi Sunak nailed it with this launch video. Brené Brown shared a blog post with the first line 'My mom died on Christmas morning.' Jason Fried reminds us to 'never delegate your word'. In an era of bots, we trust brains! Have you forgotten how trippy 'Be Our Guest' is? Bryan Johnson was on the Rich Roll podcast and it kind of blew me away — here are my pop-out quotes to see if you're up for the 3-hour trip. Oh! And, for those who've read 'The Happiness Equation', I invented a follow-up to The Saturday Morning Test called The Sunday Night Suffix. Finally! Remember it's the full moon so Chapter 133 is live right ... now.
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Neil Pasricha's Monthly Book Club - January 2024
Neil's Monthly Book Club is my oldest and most popular email newsletter. Click here to subscribe.
Hey everyone,
How was your January?
We’ve been desperate for snow in Toronto. Everything is gray, slushy, twig-silhouettey.
So much in the air these days – love, fear, connection, disconnection. And I feel this growing sense of loneliness. Research says 1 in 2 American adults feel “lonely” now – which is worse for our health than smoking 15 cigarettes a day. I know the feeling! Felt it for years. In and out of relationships. Many / most of us have!
Wondering about loneliness, and eager to learn more about what creates healthy connection and community, made me reach out to 76-year-old Oxford Professor Robin Dunbar, most famous for coining ‘Dunbar’s Number.’
I had my mind blown by the gleeful, quick-of-tongue, anthropologist-evolutionary-psychologist who offered so much context, history, and advice on how we live rich, full, connected lives. I just dropped the chat as my first-ever video podcast.
Also, I’ve been working with a few folks at the Toronto District School Board to think about how to ban cell phones from classrooms. After I spoke to principals a sixth-grade teacher told me “Phones ring all through class. They know there’s no ban. And, trust me, it’s always the parents calling.” Does your school board ban cell phones – or have some policy? (Let me know what’s working!) Btw: I think the best researcher on this topic today is NYU professor Jonathan Haidt who is publishing wonderful work and whose new book "The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Ilness" drops March 26, 2024. (I pre-ordered my copy from my local indie but I see Jon just tweeted it's on sale at Barnes&Noble)
Anyway! What do we do when things feel like a lot?
READ! MORE! BOOKS!
Scroll down for reviews of the books I read this month...
Neil
PS. Oh, and every January I remind you this Book Club is one of four email lists I have. You can also get my midnight awesome thing, bi-weekly blog post, and/or full-moon podcasts. Adjust your dosage right here.
1. Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology by Neil Postman. A prophetic 30-year-old manifesto about the dangers of pervasive technology by NYU professor Neil Postman, who died in 2003 at age 72. A book that illuminates the algorithm and AI conversations we’re having today. I first heard of this book while reading “It’s Time to Dismantle the Technopoly” in The New Yorker by Cal Newport (excited for his, too!) where he calls this book Postman’s “masterwork”. It’s not nearly as famous as "Amusing Ourselves to Death" (picked by Mitchell Kaplan in Chapter 16!) but it sure is a sloshy bucket of ice-water to the face. The book opens by saying, yes, of course, technology gives us great riches, unfathomable riches, but that it also takes something away. (He excerpts a fascinating couple of 95-year-old paragraphs from Freud.) Postman then says “once a technology is admitted, it plays out its hand; it does what it is designed to do. Our task is to understand what that design is – that is to say, when we admit a new technology to the culture, we must do it with eyes wide open.” Yes! I think of the mere 5000 days we've had with social media and the seeming eye-opening we're going through now. There's so much Technology Archaeology here with Postman endlessly pulling out sandy shards from 500, 1000, or 2000 years ago. The book was written in 1992 (I love 1992!) but honestly feels like it was written tomorrow. Casts that wide a timescale. Sample sentence from Page 10: “In introducing the personal computer to the classroom, we shall be breaking a four-hundred-year-old truce between the gregariousness and openness fostered by orality and the introspection and isolation fostered by the printed word.” Everything is backed up with a fat Notes, Bibliography, and Index, making this book much shorter than it seems when you pick it up (199 pages!). And Postman's an artist, too. I love when he references fiction like: “As described by Farley Mowat in "The People of the Deer", the replacement of bows and arrows with rifles is one of the most chilling tales on record of a technological attack on a tool-using culture. The result in this case was not the modification of a culture but its eradication.” He quotes poetry, he quotes the Bible, he quotes C.S. Lewis. It's a spellbinding magic trick of an enormous mind. And the result is a bubbling manifesto cautioning us against the “technopoly”. Which is? “… a state of culture [and] a state of mind. It consists in the deification of technology, which means that the culture seeks its authorization in technology, finds its satisfactions in technology, and takes its orders from technology.” Hmmm, OK. And what permitted this so-called “technopoly” to flourish in America first? Many things! Including “American distrust of constraints”, “the genius and audacity of early American capitalists”, and “the success of twentieth-century technology in providing Americans with convenience, comfort, speed, hygiene, and abundance so obvious and promising that there seemed no reason to look for any other sources of fulfillment or creativity or purpose.” If this sounds meaty, we’re only on Chapter 4, and get ready because Nietzsche, Darwin, Marx, Freud, Watson, and Einstein are all quoted in the next paragraph. Meaty, my friends. Probably need to read it five times to understand it. And I disagree with some, for sure. But that’s what makes it great. Illuminating, relevant, flying-through-time-portrait of our historical relationship with technology and potential implications for our cultures, communities, and relationships as we alllll fly together right now in warp speed. Highly recommended.
2. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Süskind. Oscar nominations just came out! I was thrilled to see ‘Past Lives’ nominated for Best Picture. Leslie and I loved it so much we went back to theaters to see it again. And then I reached out to Celine Song, writer, director, genius (debut!) filmmaker, and she kindly agreed to chat about her 3 most formative books. And, of course, as is the case with almost every book to almost every person, I hadn’t heard of any of them. Her first two formative books, Bohumil Hrabal’s "Too Loud a Solitude" (11/2023) and Stefan Zweig’s "Chess Story" (11/2023), were good. Not must-reads, but, you know, good, solid books. But this! Her third formative book is on another plane. Celine calls it “sumptuous.” Sumptuous, yeah. Rich. Decadent. Overwhelming, in some ways. For one thing, Süskind has the world’s greatest ability to create “smell-portraits”. On Page 1 he’s describing the stench of France in 1738: “The streets stank of manure, the courtyards of urine, the stairwells stank of moldering wood and rat droppings, the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlors stank of stale dust, the bedrooms of greasy sheets, damp featherbeds, and the pungently sweet aroma of chamber pots.” He does this over and over: olfactorily yanking us into a scene. “People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth, from their bellies that of onions, and from their bodies, if they were no longer very young, came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease.” Yet, somehow, it’s a speedy plot, too. The book tells the life story of poverty-stricken, nasally-gifted, slumdog-orphan Jean-Baptiste Grenouille from his birth in the “most putrid spot in the whole kingdom” on July 17, 1738 through his zero-to-hero-to-zero-to-I-won't-ruin-the-ending arc as a perfumer to a “hot day, the hottest of the year” in Paris on June 25, 1766. This 28-year span is told with a scene-creating vividness that reminds me of David Mitchell ("Cloud Atlas" [06/2019], "Black Swan Green" [11/2016]). I found myself amazed, disturbed, and awed by this book. It had a tug. A pulling. It did that thing novels do, which is to offer a range of emotions unlike almost anything else. Books rattle from the inside. This book is a rattler. Read the Plot Summary if you want. Written in 1985 in German (as ‘Das Parfum’) it has been on Der Spiegel's bestseller list for decades and sold over 20 million (!) copies. Yet: The author, now-76-year-old Patrick Süskind, is a ... recluse. No one knows where he lives. No one knows what he looks like. Heard of him? I hadn’t! And yet: 20 million copies make it one of the top-selling books of the past century. Mysterious! Adding this to my TBRA as it surely deserves To Be Read Again. Next time I may try audio. If you want to go audio, try Libro or Libby. Highly recommended.
3. The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe. This is the 1966 back-of-the-bus New Journalism view of one of the birthplaces of the hippie movement. What birthplace? The one where "One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest" author Ken Kesey races headfirst into the not-yet-illegal world of LSD with his revolving band of 10-14 friends (aka the “Merry Pranksters”, who included Neal Cassady and future members of The Grateful Dead) as they drain six figures of Kesey’s book royalty payments to fund a just-purchased-just-spraypainted school bus drive across America to share their newfound light-bright awareness with the world. Uh, seems to have worked!? From Steve Jobs to Elon Musk to Tim Ferriss, it feels like LSD has penetrated the culture. It’s extremely wild to hear, really hear, what’s coming out of the mouths of people trying it over 50 years ago. Now, I found the first 100 pages of this book the best 100. That’s the bus trip coming together and the actual drive. Rest is what happens after. But the trip! Geez, what a trip. You’ll feel like you’re right there …. right there getting into an argument with a Texan gas station attendant when a dozen of your unwashed stoned friends suddenly line up outside the gas station bathroom … right there in the humbling cold-shower moment your wild rambunctiousness hits the ceremonial seriousness of “the-other-LSDers”, Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert (pre-Ram Dass) … right there setting up banners and painted road signs to invite the Hell’s Angels to your house to introduce them to LSD. This book is a vibe and most of my life I would have chucked it before finishing the first fifty chaotic pages. But I loved, loved, loved "The Bonfire of the Vanities" (08/2018) and "A Man in Full" (04/2019) and felt I owed it to Tom Wolfe to keep going. And then at some point, I finally realized: Ohhhhh. This is ... how it was. He’s writing it this way to make you feel ... like it felt. What a magic trick! (I later found an Author’s Note on Page 415 where Wolfe writes: “I have tried not only to tell what the Pranksters did but to recreate the mental atmosphere or subjective reality of it.”) No kidding, Tommy! Maybe tell us before next time. Anyway, the net result is an unbelievably-inside inside view of the culturally shifting mid-60s where you get to play Ken Kesey or, more realistically, the only sober one at Ken Kesey’s house. Non-fiction journalism fused with avante-garde poetry. And the whole time, I cannot say this enough, you feel right there … right there with friends getting insomnia saying insane things … right there with friends stripping down and jumping in ponds … right there careening down steep mountains hills on the roof – the roof! – of the bus. Cop teasing! DMT experiments! It’s all here! And it comes wrapped in the general late-night party feel of both excitement … and exhaustion. A helluva book.
4. Going Up! by Sherry J. Lee. Illustrated by Charlene Chua. You are a happy, smiling young Black girl in a gray sweater and checkerboard plaid skirt baking cookies with your dad before heading up to the 10th-floor Party Room for a birthday party in your downtown apartment building. Going up! Next floor pop in happy, smiling Santucci brothers – white redhead bikers in shredded skull tank tops and arms full of tattoos. Going up! Next floor pop in a happy, smiling, birthday-balloon-toting lesbian mixed-race couple with their giant sweatered dog. Going up! Next floor pop in happy, smiling Mr. and Mrs. Habib, in a sari and kurta pyjama with happy, smiling grandkids Yasmin and Jamal holding a bowl of gulab jamun. And the book keeps going up! Lots more floors after that. A raucous celebration of community, diversity, and apartment-building love. I adored this book. Get it read aloud to you on YouTube right here.
5. My Wild and Sleepless Nights: A Mother’s Story by Clover Stroud. We haven’t done a Leslie’s Pick in a few months! Time to bring it back. Enter Leslie: “My dear friend Kelly sent me this book in a package from London with a handwritten card that said ‘You have to read this. When you’re done, pass it on to Heather.’ Unfortunately, I couldn’t pass it on to Heather, because I folded down too many pages, underlined too many sections, and already can’t wait to read it again. (I did send her a fresh copy!) Clover attempts to answer the question, ‘What does motherhood feel like?’ I have never read such a poignant, detailed, accurate, beautiful, staggering, vulnerable account of motherhood (the only other book that does this, about the first year of motherhood, is 'Brave New Mama' by Vicki Rivard). She talks about the pain of breastfeeding, sex as a mom, the judgment she feels over having a fifth child, how she craves giving birth as a way to touch where life and death collide, how messy her house really gets, and the grief she experiences as her eldest becomes a teen. This book took my breath away and made me feel connected to mothers around the world and through time. I kept on turning to Neil saying, ‘Please, can I read you another paragraph? Just one more!’ because Clover put into words experiences and feelings I haven’t been able to articulate. An absolute must-read for anyone who knows, deep in their heart, what motherhood feels like but can’t quite put it into words, and for anyone who is curious about the deep emotional soul of motherhood.”
6. Total Immersion: The Revolutionary Way to Swim Better, Faster, and Easier by Terry Laughlin with John Delves. I learned how to swim in my 30s. Bit late to the game! A childhood full of ear infections and tubes left me starting swimming lessons when I was a decade older than all the other kids in the three-foot pool. I sputtered, sank, and swerved my life the other way. Now in my 40s, after a few "Adult Learn To Swim" classes, in a story I sometimes share in keynote speeches, I can stay afloat and do the front crawl ... but not much more. Enter this book! My friend Frank Warren sent it to me and it’s like having a swimming coach in your pocket. Simple things, like “reshaping the vessel”, help teach swimming with less effort. How? By consciously pushing your airbaggy chest down so your legs come up – helping to avoid the log-floating-in-a-pond posture I typically use! What else? Learning that “what you do between strokes is more important than how you take the stroke.” Uh, what you do between strokes? Right! Lengthen your body! Less drag. And it goes on and on. I actually took this book with me to the public pool a few times, got my courage going by reading a few pages or a chapter, and then jumped in to try. Did the book turn me into an Olympian? No. It did not. But it gives me new things to try and I can feel my Swimming Confidence nudging up and up.
7. The Complete Elfquest by Wendy Pini and Richard Pini. At the end of Chapter 35 of 3 Books with Jen Agg, I played a 1-833-READ-A-LOT voicemail from 3 Booker Gavin from Longmont, Colorado who shared how Elfquest, a comic that ran over 40 years starting in the 70s, was formative to him. He then recently wrote me, four years later, to see if I ever read it. Well, I hadn’t, but I thought 'This sounds like a great gift' and bought it for my oldest son. He opened it Christmas morning and … we didn’t see him much over the next few days. He fell into the transportive, visually dense 720-page (!) odyssey of Elfquest. I just asked him what he thought and he says: “It’s good, dad. Really good. So basically, it’s about these elves, who live in a forest, and there are humans they fight against, and one day the humans use fire to burn down the woods, and then the elves go down to the troll caves to survive, but then the trolls betray them and lead them to a desert, and they can barely survive there, and then they meet another tribe of elves, and first they fight with them, but then they start working together, and then the leader of the elf tribe who lived in the woods leaves to look for more elves, and they find the high ones, which are their leaders.” For fans of adventures and quests. Think Percy Jackson! Big thanks to Gavin for the tip-off. (If you have a formative book you’d be willing to suggest or share with me, just give me a ring at 1-833-READ-A-LOT. It’s a real phone number! I listen to every message and for six years I’ve played a voicemail at the end of every Chapter of 3 Books. If I play yours I will sign and personalize and mail you a book – anywhere in the world. I love analog, phone call, crinkly envelope communities.)
8. Crossroads by Jonathan Franzen. There is nothing like a Jonathan Franzen novel. Nothing like it! Pulsing, messy, scabrous, erotic, reflective, breath-holdy, shocking, punchy, illuminating. Plot twists! Pitch-perfect dialogue! ‘Okay, okay, but what are they even about?’ Leslie asked me as, once again, we found ourselves struggling to zip a suitcase with a 600-page hardcover on top. ‘A family drama, basically,’ I said, ‘With the first 400-ish pages in this book taking place over literally one day, on December 23, 1971. Then the final 200-ish pages are the following few months.’ And what a family drama! We follow the Hildebrandts – father Russ, mother Marion, and four kids ranging from college-age Clem to high school social queen Becky to drug-dealing tenth grader Perry to little, almost invisible Judson – as they navigate complex inner-outer lives around their church in the fictional small town New Prospect, Illinois. Every chapter gives each character’s unique perspective and backstory – alternating in that ‘Babysitter’s Club Super Special’-style – until the slow-pounding 200-page fireworks display at the end. Every private, embarrassing, scandalous thought – it’s there. The characters might be dark – but there’s a humanity, a beauty, an inner-inner life, that Franzen exposes like almost nobody else writing today. Perry resolves to quit smoking weed! Clem feels morally compelled to sign up for Vietnam! Becky sets her sights on the churchgoing folk singer! Secretly-psychiatric-seeking Marion struggles to make sense of her past in a remarkably lifelike appointment with her therapist aka “the fat dumpling.” And Russ! I don’t know where to begin. He’s churchy, nerdy, horny, and has an almost “violent pacifism.” This book is a trip. You’ll walk across “unrecent tire tracks”, feel the stare of “that glower of his”, and watch “resinous knots of juniper explode in orange sparks.” 10/10 on character, 10/10 on plot, this is a twisting acrobatic plunge into the deep pool of literature. I might suggest starting with "The Corrections" and then "Freedom", but if you’ve read those, and even if you haven’t, "Crossroads" will take you far, far away. A book to help us stare slack-jawed at something in ourselves while adding some taffy and fillings to the human experience. Let it plug in a few holes, and chip a few others away, while we collectively race across this endlessly fleeting blur called existence. Highly recommended.
9. There is no 9! Just our usual jumble of lootbag links. Let's start with a string of wonderful quotes from Robin Dunbar. Oh, and I just challenged myself to list my Top 25 Movies Of All-Time. I was super-thrilled after interviewing Susan Orlean but my kids were not impressed. I like this personal lunar calendar app. A short article by Derek Sivers about a "walk and talk" – a great way of getting together with people you admire. "The proliferation of smartphones and social media mean that young men and women now increasingly inhabit separate spaces and experience separate cultures." My 7-year-old's zen koan jokes. Super Bowl quarterback Kurt Warner reminds us about context. I just learned 'fishes' is a real word! (Now can we go back to octopi?) Brad Stulberg reminds us we are mirrors. Why we should get offline and talk to strangers IRL more. And the movie Leslie and I saw on our last date night! Thanks for reading all the way to the very end. 3521 words later and you made it!
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Neil Pasricha's Monthly Book Club - November 2023
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Hey everyone,
How you holding up?
Our place has been full of midnight fevers, junkyard dog coughs, and screams from the basement. "More tissues! More tissues!" Poor Leslie has gone down with the ship. Been the ship, really. She was, however, in top form on her first-ever feature podcast. We just dropped it as a Bookmark called "Tips to Be a More Peaceful Parent."
I also released a longform "live from New York" conversation with human rocket ship Sahil Bloom. And on the next full moon (Monday!) I'll be dropping a chat with Ralph Nader. Still fiery! Btw: If you're new to the pod start with David Sedaris, Brené Brown, or Quentin Tarantino.
Last thing! Our Book Of Awesome – the first awesome book in a decade, written collectively with all of you! – drops in paperback on Tuesday. It's got a new HOT PINK cover and I put a review in below. Grab a copy for you or someone you love right here.
The world does not want us to read books! Every screen seduces us farther away from the deeper, richer world of compressed wisdom waiting for us in the pages. I love our reading rebellion. If you know someone who'd like to join us send them here.
Here are my book recommendations this month!
Neil
1. It's OK To Be Angry About Capitalism by Bernie Sanders. I remember reading a New York Times Op-Ed by Bernie Sanders a few years ago called "The Foundations of American Society Are Failing Us" and being struck by the clarity, concision, and power. Apex communicator! (He just wrote another Op-Ed four days ago called "Justice for the Palestinians and Security for Israel.") Do you see what I mean? The world is just so messy, blurry, and overwhelming and we need penetrating voices – master distillers! – to offer us clear views. Bernie is one 82-year-old elder doing just that. This book contains ten passionate, rallying-cry chapters that smartly fold together stories, research, and reminders about big laws that were headline news for a few weeks a few decades ago but have disappeared as news. The result is some kind of slow, almost grotesque, pan shot of the state of the US. Chapter sub-heads include phrases like "Health care is a human right, not a privilege", "Children should be taught to think – not educated to be cogs in the machine", and "Political reform requires alternatives to a for-profit media system that dumbs down and diminishes debate in America." Each chapter is its own manifesto and I found my heart beating faster and faster while reading. "If someone were to offer a senator $100 to vote for or against a piece of legislation," he writes on Page 116, "it would, by any court of law, be considered a 'bribe.' Taking that bribe could land that person offering it – and the senator taking it – in jail. If that same person were to put $100 million into a super-PAC for that senator, their spending would be considered perfectly legal. It would also, if successful, win the donor a very close and grateful relationship with a very powerful elected official." We know truths like this, but Bernie has a way of spelling them out in arresting ways. "Made you look", he always seems to be saying. "Our struggle is against a system where the top twenty-five hedge fund managers in the United States pocket more money than 350,000 kindergarten teachers." Exactly. Or how about on Page 124 when he shows how the US spends more than double, per capita, on health care than the UK, Canada, France, or Germany, and yet ranks at the bottom on longevity, accessibility, and coverage. "In other words, we are getting a terrible return on our huge expenditure on health care." You can skip around the book. I flipped past some rehashes of election campaigns or specific bills but loved the more elevated macro-level ideas he borrows from countries around the world such as the zoom-in on learning from Finland's education system. (Spoiler alert: elevate teaching standards through pay and trust, reject standardized testing, ban for-profit private schools, etc.) The book shares how the US got where it is – and what can be done to unwind a lot of the damage. Do I agree with everything? Of course not. Books aren't brains – they're views. But there aren't many views more pointed, sharp, and passionate than this one. Highly recommended.
2. Chess Story by Stefan Zweig. A hundred years ago Stefan Zweig was one of the highest selling and most translated writers in the world. This is the first book I've read by him and I can safely add: For good reason! He had a tumultuous life. In 1934 he fled Austria for England as Hitler was gaining power but then, years later, ended up listed in the 'Black Book', which convinced him to flee further to Brazil. I imagine him writing this tight, gripping 84-page "one long boat trip across the Atlantic" novella on his … long boat trip across the Atlantic. It tells the story of a group of people who encounter the chess world champion on their boat! They challenge him to a game! He soundly defeats them! But then … another challenger emerges with a haunting past and the story swerves wildly. A short book to help you get back on the reading train. Vivid, welcoming, and a pace that accelerates as the story goes on. This is Zweig's last book and was submitted to his publisher just two days before he and his wife died by suicide in Rio.
3. Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas. Do you know the poem "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" by Dylan Thomas? I thought I did! But I think I really just knew that one line – "Rage, rage, against the dying of the light" – from like a dozen different movies. I never ingested it, you know? Fanned it in slowly like perfume. Because that's what it deserves. It's a stunning bit of writing. I suggest reading it here and then listening to Dylan Thomas reciting it here. If you feel something there I think you'll love the high-flying literary acrobatics in this much longer 1954 BBC radio play transcript that Dylan wrote just before his death at age 39. This is truly one of the most wild things I've ever read. I found it hard to take in more than a fraction of what was going on -- but the words, you'll see, they just keep pulling. Under Milk Wood is a 95-page fast-paced "day in the inner lives" of a small Welsh town. That's it! But the wordplay, the twisting – it's got a vibe like Lincoln in the Bardo (04/2018). Here, take a look, this is two pages near the beginning, featuring an inner conversation between Mrs. Ogmore-Pritchard and her two dead (though still alive in her mind!) husbands, Mr. Ogmore and Mr. Pritchard:
Mr Ogmore: I must blow my nose.
Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard: In a piece of tissue-paper which I afterwards burn.
Mr Pritchard: I must take my salts which are nature's friend.
Mr Ogmore: I must boil the drinking water because of germs.
Mr Pritchard: I must take my herb tea which is free from tannin.
Mr Ogmore: And have a charcoal biscuit which is good for me.
Mr Pritchard: I may smoke one pipe of asthma mixture.
Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard: In the woodshed, if you please.
Mr Pritchard: And dust the parlour and spray the canary.
Mr Ogmore: I must put on rubber gloves and search the peke for fleas.
Mr Pritchard: I must dust the blinds and then I must raise them.
Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard: And before you let the sun in, mind it wipes its shoes.