toa books of the year (2021, part five)

At long last, we wrap up the 2021 TOA Book of the Year shortlist. We'll be back in a few weeks with the finals because, like, why do anything on time?

Speaking of a few weeks - yes, as suggested at the top of the month, we're into off-season mode here on TOA. Expect mostly mid-week filler for a month or two before we return to the usual Sunday-centric pattern. Thanks for reading!

The Factory by Hiroko Oyamada (November)

TOA Review: December 2021

Notes: I called it "an odd little novel" a few months ago, though perhaps in hindsight I should have just gone for the gold and said it was weird. I think The Factory has something it wants to say about the condition of modern working life but, knowing it never matters, opts instead to immerse the reader in its many disorienting moments. I guess it just means we readers are left to form our own conclusions (or perhaps reinforce an existing perception). It was a choice that worked for me, however, it may be less accessible to readers without similar workplace experiences to mine.

Parting thought: The issue is finding a place in the world when we have the sense that the world is ready to move on without us.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed (December)

TOA Review: January 2022

Other notable TOA appearances: if you want to get a sense of what TOA was like in the good old days, then set aside approximately two and a half hours to take it all in. Honestly, sometimes I look back and wonder why I wasn't kicked off the internet. Or maybe, I was kicked out to the internet. Anyway, to the point of writing about Wild I suppose it might have been faster to just keep all the footwear revelations to myself, but that really wasn't the point of writing about it.

Notes: Like with the prior entry, I've written enough (at least recently) about Wild that I don't have much left to add today. I do want to point out that I generally do not subscribe to the idea that a single event (or journey) can serve as an overarching metaphor for a particular emotional, spiritual, or intellectual journey in one's life, but I suppose Wild (or even certain "Tales of Two Cities" posts) makes a strong argument against my position.

Parting thought: People have moments on journeys - you can go back to where you came from, or you can move forward to where you are trying to go. In a strange way, sometimes they are basically the same option.

How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi (December)

TOA Review: not started (likely late 2022)

Notes: Kendi corrects the misconception that "not racist" is the opposite of racist, outlining his perspective of antiracism in this 2019 book. It was a top-three read for me in the past year, so more to come regarding its content in the upcoming finals. One thing to highlight for today is that this is an excellent book, technically speaking - it's precise, it's direct, it's personal, and the way Kendi brings it all together is a blueprint for anyone seeking to write an accessible book on any deeply complicated topic.

Parting thought: The problem with being “not racist” is when it frames itself as opposite of racist; the opposite is antiracist. If you settle for doing no harm, you are simply in the middle ground between racist and antiracist.

TOA 2021 Book of the Year - Finalists

A Swim in a Pond in the Rain by George Saunders

Race After Technology by Ruha Benjamin

How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

reading clearout - december 2021

Hi - some thoughts on (some) recent reading I won't bother putting into a full ("full") review ("review").

The Factory by Hiroko Oyamada (November 2021)

Things get just far enough out of hand in this odd little novel to where I could understand why a reader might dismiss it out of hand, but for me a couple of unexpectedly sharp observations elevated it to one of my favorite reads of the year. The first was a moment that outlined the broken logic of temporary work - someone brought into an organization that is unwilling to invest in its own workers comes under significant pressure to ignore his or her own potential, eventually becoming jaded enough with the concept of work to resist making any more than a minimal investment of effort into the organization. The second was a scene where one of the protagonists, suddenly finding herself with an unexpected half-day, cannot think of anything better to do than take a walk through the company grounds. These examples speak to two sides of a question that from experience it seems like anyone who works a full-time job will grapple with at some point in their career - the experience alternates from the extremes of meaningless to all-encompassing, often with nauseating volatility, and it leaves the average worker wondering if it's worth making the effort in a world that seems ready to move on without them, all the while as that same world seems to slowly encroach on every free moment of their existence.

The Cost of Living by Deborah Levy (October 2019)

Remember last time, when I extolled the virtues of holding off on a reading review? The other side of the coin is that sometimes you can hold off for so long that you forget everything you knew about the book. If this happens, you'll have a grand old time scribbling down your thoughts while watching a half-arsed helmet football game on Sunday afternoon. But, let's just get to business.

In this case, I went back and checked out a few reviews just to see if I could jog my memory, but this was to no avail. It seems like the most telling note I took down is the one that mentions how Medusa returned the male gaze and, well, look at what happened - portrayed as evil, then beheaded; the example speaks to the subtle and overt sexist experiences Levy draws upon to put together this work. I think there is always something universal in a well-written memoir, and some of my other notes suggest the same applies to The Cost of Living - the note, for example, that someone else's honestly makes it possible for listeners to respond more freely, rings true both from my conversational experience as well as the ease with which I can write about a book reflecting the same feature. I'm also quite convinced of the eternal wisdom in the idea of becoming an artist rather than dying of the past. As a final legacy of my reading experience, I noted that I should look into Arts of the Possible by Adrienne Rich, and I anticipate checking out this work sometime in the next year.

The most honest thing I can say about this book, however, goes back to my initial attempt to jog my memory via various summaries and comments. One review noted that this book was a must-read for Levy's fans, a club to which I claim no membership; I have no idea how I ended up with this book in the first place. It's a good reminder that when I mention certain books about Liverpool FC, reference a moment from a helmet football podcast, or preach about the various virtues of live U2 performances, I should make these comments alongside the all-important disclaimer regarding the intended audience.

Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri (February 2020)

This collection, which I read almost two years ago, was good enough for me to check out Unaccustomed Earth, a book I mentioned in last month's clearout. There were three stories I noted for reread from this debut 1999 collection - "A Temporary Matter", "Mrs. Sen's", and "The Third and Final Continent". It wasn't a major challenge for me to find a PDF online of the former, and it might be worth sampling first before diving into the rest of the collection.