#what i like in nonfiction is to learn all kinds of minutiae that i then convey to all my friends for weeks

[undercrowns]

@loveisworry tagged me eons ago to list nine books that I like/would recommend. I'm finally reading again so here we go, vaguely sorted fiction -> non-fiction:

The Thief, Megan Whalen Turner: I think it's best to go into The Thief knowing as little as possible so I won't say much about the plot, instead I'll say that MWT is truly a master at using structure and form to convey character and narrative ideas! THE heist novel of all time. Also these books make you insane so there's that

Piranesi, Susanna Clarke: Honestly one of the books of the decade. Extremely different from Jonathan Strange if you've only read that one; it drops you in the deep end from the first word which I always admire (try not to know too much about this one going in either. In fact I'd mistaken it for a completely different book at first and kept wondering when the House was going to turn into the magical school I thought the book was about). Features many topics that interest me: the self as an idea and the mutability thereof, buildings that are maybe alive and maybe love you, loving and caring about people even when things suck so bad

Watchmaker of Filigree Street/Lost Future of Pepperharrow: Natasha Pulley I love you. Do you want to learn a lot about clocks while also losing it as everything goes in the wrong direction. You should. I'd recommend all of Pulley's books (still trying to get my hands on an ARC of the new one!), but Pepperharrow is my favorite of the bunch; I felt every available human emotion reading it and potentially a few others. They're all also SO funny to me while also making me cry multiple times. (originally read these after they appeared on many @lotstradamus rec lists, truly thank you)

Lives of the Monster Dogs, Kirsten Bakis: I don't know that I've ever read anything quite like this book and I have a tough time explaining it. I wrote in my rec to a friend that it's about being nostalgic for something that was painful for everyone involved, but at the same time held so much genuine wonder. Also about trying to understand your place in a world that has no place for you. I don't know what else to say; I loved it.

Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel: I love a SCHEMER I love INTRIGUE I love to feel a creeping sense of inevitable dread spread out over three books! Hilary Mantel was simply a genius

The Multitude, Hannah Faith Notess: I debated what (if any) poetry to put on this list and in the end I went with The Multitude simply because I think many people haven't heard of it and Yoshi: A Pastoral is one of my favorite ever poems. beloved i will wait for you / always in the roadless shade

H is for Hawk, Helen Macdonald: I came to this a few years after it was popular so maybe everyone has read it already, but I think it's a lovely meditation of grief and nature and how sometimes you just have to pick a (very specific and maybe odd) thing and do it to get through life

Fighting at Sea in the Eighteenth Century, Sam Willis: I love an extremely niche book and I LOVE boats, particularly tall ships. This book was basically made specifically for me, in that it's clearly a labor of love by someone very knowledgeable on a topic that I'm already interested in. If anyone has recs in this vein (about ships or not) please send them my way!!

On the Death and Life of Languages, Claude Hagège (Tr. Jody Gladding): Another of the niche topic books, this time about how and why languages die out and the ramifications of their loss. I haven't read the original French so I can't comment on the faithfulness, but the translation is wonderfully done imo. Some turns of phrase I'm still thinking about

Honorary Mentions: The Lymond Chronicles, Dorothy Dunnett (only read if you're willing to be in over your head but if you are!!!! they are a masterpiece) The Locked Tomb series, Tamsyn Muir (very polarizing books, I'm obsessed), the Temeraire series, Naomi Novik (dragons fighting in the Napoleonic wars largely featuring the Navy, tailored exactly to my interests)

tagging if you want @valentinetexass @veryspecificfantasies @unrealcities !

[master-riku]

Book Mentions 0.1

01/50 - Won’t mention it - but it is important to my spirituality.

02/50 - The Orchid Thief  by Susan Orlean I was able to reread this novel for the second time in my life. I remember hating reading it during university because it was a requirement for my “Hollywood Films 101″ class. In retrospect, I enjoyed the “Adaptation” film way more than the book, but I’m very fond of Susan Orlean’s writing style.

 Now that I had time to read it and (re)gain information about the Fakahatchee Swamp and the phenomenon that are Orchids and their evolution, I’ve gained some respect for them, and a lot of influence for my stories.

03/50 - FLOW by Mihaly Czikszentmihalyi This book was recommended to me by a friend. He suspects I can finish my own novel rather quickly upon learning about the requirements to enter the “flow” state  - the state in which a person can obtain an autotelic work nature.  Like most informative works of nonfiction, there were research examples everywhere detailing the mundane minutiae of ordinary peoples’ lives and their experiences in the flow state, but all the while I felt suffocated by them as more often  than not, I felt a few examples and definitions or backgrounds of words rather superfluous and just a paragraph extender. 04/50 - Anxious People by Frederik Backman  If I could recognize anything mid-book, I felt like the story resembled a Wes Anderson film. Needless to say, it was beautiful with all the right tinges of sadness and humor and respect and love. I can honestly see this becoming a movie if it weren’t for one glaring problem....(Unless like it becomes Life of Pi-esque movie-telling)

05/50 - Becoming by Michelle Obama I didn’t know much about the Obamas other than when they were caught in GOP-raised conspiracies like the Birther issue. This autobiography gave me a lot of insight on what kind of people they are (even if it’s quite biased, but all autobiographies are in the end). I also think Barack Obama was in FLOW state for a longgggg time. It’s cool.

[islamcketta]

Station Eleven

When I asked my husband for Emily St. John Mandel’s Station Eleven for Christmas, I don’t think I’d heard of the coronavirus yet. I like dark novels and have often found that reading about the worst of things makes me feel better about my everyday. Station Eleven did not disappoint, especially because the way the structure flips quickly enough back and forth between the panic of a rapidly-spreading pandemic and the life that continues (in its own way) in the way after meant I didn’t have to bear the “what if we all die” feeling that some books carry. So it was dangerous, but not too much so. It’s a very satisfying read overall with strong characters and a fresh take on life after the apocalypse. I loved the way the threads of the story eventually came together.

If you’re at all afraid, I would not suggest you read this book right now, but do put it on your list for later.

What Station Eleven Taught Me About Now

Be prepared. I do not feel the need to pack seven carts full of groceries into my home the way that Jeevan did, but we have set aside enough food and essentials that we’ll be okay if we have to self-quarantine for a couple of weeks. I’ve since read that having a little (not a crazy amount) of back-stock on hand can also help ease supply chain problems for others later.

Books matter. Not that I needed to be taught this, but the way that Kirsten clings to her copy of Dr. Eleven is an important reminder that we cling to things that make us feel civilized. And for good reason. I’ve read more prepper guides in the last month than I’ll admit, but the things that always come back to me are how humanizing small luxuries like a beloved chocolate bar or a great shower can be when we feel at our worst.

The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History

By the time I finished Station Eleven, the news of a coronavirus in China felt distant enough that I picked up the copy of The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History that my neighbor had given me as we were exchanging Thanksgiving dishes. I don’t normally read nonfiction, certainly not of the historical reportage type, but I figured if I was ever going to read that book, it would/should be after finishing Station Eleven. I’m glad I did, because I learned a lot about how viruses work and about what can go wrong in a society during a pandemic. There was far too much minutia about individual doctors for my taste, but I appreciate the work they did.

I do not believe that we are in for anything nearly as bad as the Spanish Flu, but I do think there are lessons from that time that can help us minimize the spread and mortality of COVID-19.

What The Great Influenza Taught Me About Now

Infections come in waves. There were actually two infection periods for the Spanish Flu, and those who were exposed to the first were mostly immune to (or at least suffered far less from) the second.

Viruses mutate over time. As they emerge in the human population, they are not necessarily at their most dangerous (the first spring wave of the Spanish Flu was not as lethal as the later wave), but they do mutate and over time “virulence stabilizes and even recedes”. You can read more about how this might be working with COVID-19 here.

Quarantine and self isolation helps. Not only are you limiting your potential avenues for transmission by self-isolating (before or after being infected), you are giving the disease time to mutate into something less lethal.

We are lucky to have already identified COVID-19. The Spanish Flu was not conclusively even identified as an influenza until much after the epidemic. Today researchers are working directly with an identified pathogen and trying to develop tests and a vaccine, rather than spending years trying to figure out what the disease even is.

Accurate information saves lives. During the Spanish Flu, the media in San Francisco likely saved lives by sharing accurate, unvarnished information with local citizens. This is a big worry for me at a country level because the president is more interested in his ego than in getting people the information they need to prepare. I’m looking directly to resources I trust, like King County Public Health and this map from Johns Hopkins, for my updates.

Large public gatherings are a bad idea during times of contagion. There were far too many stories in this book of public officials who were warned to cancel large events and did not. If you’re interested in specifics on how that affected mortality, this is interesting. We aren’t currently avoiding the grocery story (despite the general zombie vibe there) or daycare (the source of all contagion, really), but my workplace is closed and I’ll be skipping this spring’s slew of arts fundraising events.

The Ungrateful Refugee

This book by Dina Nayeri was an essential read for our time before the novel coronavirus. I’m still immersed in its pages, but the way she combines the memoir of her own experience as a refugee with the research she did as a new mother into the refugee waves of now is deeply artful and deeply humanizing. Her writing is as beautiful as her introspection.

What The Ungrateful Refugee Taught Me About Now

It is always easy to turn inwards and see only your own experience. It is especially important in times of crisis that we do not, to the extent that we are able.

The more we connect with others, the better we will see ourselves. When Nayeri sees a girl in a refugee camp who will not remove her pink backpack, she sees her own trauma and the need to cling to the one thing that feels like stability. And in reading about it I see ways I am paralyzing myself when I most need to find grace.

Every human deserves and wants dignity. The more we treat each other with dignity, the more we will all respond with it in kind. The way my husband described how people are treating our grocery store clerks is abhorrent. We’re all humans on this planet. If you can afford to give someone a smile or a kind word, please do.

The Plague

I actually haven’t started re-reading The Plague, so I’m not certain it’s the best thing to turn to at this exact moment, but I do recall that I read it during a particularly dark time of my life and I was very much reassured by the way Camus highlighted what Mr. Rogers would call “the helpers,” the people who went out of their way to make sure that society survived.

What The Plague Taught Me About Now

There is good in and around us. Look for it.

Do what you can to help others.

Anything that Gives You Pleasure

The one thing I very much have stockpiled in anticipation of being at home for the duration is books. I started with an indulgently large order from Powell’s and then let myself go hog wild at the AWP virtual book fair where hundreds of small presses are selling their wares, often at a wonderful discount. Read or watch anything that reminds you that COVID is only part of life.

Other Things I’m Thinking About

Kids are generally less vulnerable. According to this piece on NPR, kids go through so very many COVIDs early in life that they are not at risk now. This has to be a relief for any parent.

The digital age has added some layers of protection and stripped away others. It’s nice that many people can work from home. I wish that everyone could (or could get paid in absentia). I did wake up in a cold panic the other morning with the realization that if my husband and I both died (highly unlikely, but tell my anxiety that), my son would have no way of contacting the people who can take care of him because he doesn’t have a relationship with our phones.

Panic is paralyzing; avoid it at all costs. There are hashtags on Twitter that I won’t click anymore because the fear has already taken people way beyond a functional place. If you’re scared about something concrete, like not having a list of emergency numbers on paper somewhere handy, fix it and try to move on. Turning off the voices of panic from outside the house is not the worst idea, either (she tells herself).

Supplies are available in places other than grocery stores. We’ve been ordering nonperishables (again, only a week or two ahead) from Target. It saves us from going out and also lets people who need to get things more immediately have some hope of finding them on a nearby shelf. Free shipping over $35, but you want a week’s lead time.

Also avoiding full isolation. I don’t mean in a physical sense. If your fear/worry/general busyness has kept you from contacting your loved ones, try a text or a call. I’d planned to write some “COVID missives” to pen-pals I’ve neglected before I started writing this post (and I still will, here eventually).

Finding joy, even if in alternate universes. My husband and I have immersed ourselves in as many comedies as we can in the evenings, but the most effective panacea has been streaming a favorite design show from the UK in the 2000s. It feels good to immerse myself in something that isn’t about disease at all. And as part of our prepping, we have a new set of soccer nets arriving soon, JIC daycare finally closes.

I wish you health and peace of mind. If I read anything particularly interesting while shut in, I’ll share it with you here.

The post My COVID Reading List (And What I’ve Learned) appeared first on A Geography of Reading.