The New York Times released its Best 100 Books of the 21st Century list last week, which is bound to inspire controversy since it’s less than 25% done. The century. Not the list.
An interlude: I’m not going to write about Donald Trump being attempt-assassinated here, so in case you’re looking for that, I can save you the bother. Instead, I’m going to offer you two book lists of my own. See below. The best things I have to say about the assassination attempt I wrote in my group chat with my high school friends on Saturday evening and they should stay there. I worry that increasingly America’s best discourse is taking place in such WhatsApp conversations, but I worry more that I’ll be tempted to publicize what I say in them. We all need boundaries around what we say and where we say it. Those are strategic, but they’re also helpful for making progress on American democracy at this point. I think that’s healthy at a time when the country is this divided. Let’s see what we all have to say in a week or two. In the meantime, I am horrified by what took place. That’s the God’s honest. But like America’s congressmen, I’m not going to take this as an opportunity to talk about gun control or get on a soapbox. What happened on Saturday night is bad for America. Period. At times like this I tend to think we all need to learn the art of holding our tongues and reflecting.
Back to the established subject of this missive. I ordered four books from the NYT’s top 100 list: Wolf Hall, by Hilary Mantel, because several people have told me it’s a masterpiece and I do, I suppose, have some interest in a historical reimagining of Oliver Cromwell. Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend made number one on the list and so, it would be churlish not to read it. Percival Everett’s Erasure was the basis for the movie American Fiction, and I feel like it’ll be biting. Austerlitz by W.G. Sebald is a bout a Jewish man sent to England as a child in 1939 and has received universal acclaim.
I like lists of books, so here are two more, as promised.
The Last Four Books I Read and Why They’re Good
Long Island Compromise by Taffy Brodesser Akner is about the third generation of a wealthy Jewish family trying to come to terms with their wealth through the lens of the kidnapping of their father when they were children. It was harrowing and excellent, a damning satire about the corrosive effects of inherited wealth but more than that. A humane and loving portrait of a family. All families have their ups and downs, after all. Although this book had moments of laugh-out-loud chuckledom amidst vast stretches where I wanted to stop reading in anguish. I’m proud I got through it and pleased I did.
Martyr by Kaveh Akbar is about a lost Iranian American man trying to come to terms with the death of his parents as well as his addictions. It takes a surprising turn through art, the protagonist’s sexuality and his place in culture and left me thinking I was a lot cleverer and well-rounded and understanding towards other people after I’d read it. I did have to take two runs at it. The first time I ran out of steam, but the second time I’m glad I persevered. It’s a novel of 2024, of its time, envisioning our next 25 years. It is optimistic about the possible progress we can all make, albeit outside conventional boxes.
Every Man for Himself and God Against All is Werner Herzog’s borderline unhinged memoir, notable for his visionary approach to everything he touches. Increasingly I’m a fan of the concept of neurodiversity as a lens for approaching the world’s geniuses, and whatever happened to Mr. Herzog to make him the person he is, it just bleeds out of him in every line of this fascinating thing. Imagine being a person who stole a camera from a film school because you were convinced you needed to make movies with it, and you weren’t sorry. The self-belief.
Ordinary Human Failings by Megan Nolan is the tale of a tragic event on a South London housing estate told through the eyes of a confused young journalist (ah, ha!) and a beautiful and aspiring young mother with post-partum depression (oh, no!). It’s as downbeat as it sounds in parts but again, it’s told with the grit of an author who understands that survival isn’t always easy. If anything, that’s the thread running through all four of these books, actually—that life is messy and complex, but that it is also important to affirm its uniqueness and resist the temptation to be glib or offer platitudes about the ugly, brutish and short time we must exist in, when we’re trying to answer the question: How should we live? I love reading books because they flex that muscle in all of us. To be well-read is to grasp for answers. There’s humor in the process, too, and a full spectrum of other experiences. It’s not all sadness or a grim trudge.
The Best 11 Books I’ve Read in the Last Seven Years
I’ve written shorter descriptions of these because I hope you’re tempted to pick one or two up, rather than trust me on a summary sentence.
The English Understand Wool by Helen DeWitt, about a young middle eastern woman who turns the tables brilliantly on some literary types trying to exploit a recent tragedy in her life. It’s a novella, and short, but I think this could be my favorite book of all these listed.
Yoga by Emmanuel Carrere, a memoir about a Frenchman who discovers he’s bipolar after being diagnosed during a breakdown on a yoga retreat during the Charlie Hebdo massacre in Paris.
Out of Sheer Rage by Geoff Dyer, about the poet and novelist, D.H. Lawrence, and rage, and how to harness it for creative purposes.
Travels with My Aunt by Graham Greene about a young bank clerk traveling with his mother, who pretends to be his aunt to shield him from her…colorful…international career and life.
The Moor’s Account by Laila Lalami, an odyssey of survival and adaptation told through the eyes of an African slave taken to South America by Spanish colonialists.
Close to Home by Malcolm McGee, about being Irish and desperately wanting not to be. But at the same time, being Irish, and feeling all the other ways about it. Excerpts of this one haunted me for months after I’d read it.
The Sudden Arrival of Violence by Malcolm Mackay, a taught Scottish thriller about a hitman written as atmospherically as anything I’ve come across.
Berta Isla by Javier Marias, about a woman whose husband goes missing for decades on a mission for the government, and what it does to her, and to him.
Difficult Women by David Plante, a memoir about the author’s relationships with the writers Jean Rhys, Sonia Orwell and Germaine Greer. It’s a tell-all and breaks all ethical boundaries. He shouldn’t have written it, really, with any decency. Yet the warts-and-all portraits that emerge are compelling.
LaserWriter II by Tamara Shopshin, about an old Apple Macintosh repair center in Manhattan, from a bygone era. Charming.
Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stewart, about a Scottish child who escapes his parents’ alcoholism and class trauma. Very affirming.
What are your favorite books of the last seven years, or of the last few weeks? I’m all ears!
