toa books of the year (2021, part four)

We resume our countdown toward The Most Irrelevant Prize in World Literature with a look at four of the books on the shortlist.

Daddy Was a Number Runner by Louise Meriwether (May)

TOA Review: not started (likely mid-2022)

Notes: Given how much I read, it's unusual for me to encounter a book that I suspect might live on the shelves of the "one of a kind" section down at the library, but this may be an appropriate description of Meriwether's story about Francie, a young girl in 1934 Harlem. Perhaps "first of its kind" is a closer fit, given that at the time of its release in 1970 a book centered around a Black girl's experience probably wasn't very common. It struck me while thinking about Daddy Was a Number Runner that there is definitely a discrepancy within my own reading list in terms of books about Black young men and boys having far greater representation than those about Black young women and girls, but I don't have much to say on this observation at the moment other than sharing my resolve to find some more reading to bring a sense of balance to my list.

I want to credit this post about the book by Deesha Philyaw, whose writing helped me think through some of the points I mentioned above. In addition to noting her collection as a future read, I also recognized that I would likely reread this book again at some point in the future. Quite frankly, to write such a review of any book is an unstated aim of mine, and in this example Philyaw accomplishes the main objective in my mind of such a piece - to make a reader want to pick up the book.  

Parting thought: There is a certain injustice when relief workers insist on deducting additional earnings from the original relief check.

A Swim in a Pond in the Rain by George Saunders (August)

TOA Review: not started (likely mid-2022)

Notes: This book is presented in seven sections, each with two components - a short story (not written by Saunders) followed by an analysis (written by Saunders). The short stories are excellent, but this book made my shortlist due to Saunders's examinations of each, detailing the works from the perspective of how structure, technique, and style contribute to the storytelling. This book finished in my top-three for 2021, so that's all for now - we'll hear more about it in the finals.

Parting thought: A strong structure works as a Q-and-A, where the author must respond to the questions that arise in the reader. A good writer, then, is one who is keenly aware of the questions a reader will have as the story flows forward; a good story knows how to respond to itself.

Parting thought #2: Good revision means constantly revising toward specificity, then allowing specificity to drive the story forward.

Parting thought #3: In a highly organized story, each event is precisely selected to escalate through causality.

Race After Technology by Ruha Benjamin (September)

TOA Review: not started (likely mid-2022)

Other notable TOA appearances: in October, I mused on some of the challenges with data collection, including the problem of data collection for the sake of data collection.

Notes: Benjamin explores the role of (recent) digital technology in reinforcing or perpetuating racism. Like with A Swim in the Pond in the Rain, this was a top-three read for me in 2021, so we'll return to this one in the finalist post.

Parting thought: People tend to behave in ways that contradict their stated beliefs - for example, by supporting single-payer healthcare, but resisting all attempts made to enforce higher taxes. The same goes for the tech industry, which claims to support regulation while resisting all attempts made to regulate its own activity. In these examples, political values are revealed more so in the action than in the statement.

Parting thought #2: Algorithms can code inequity, seen in examples such as higher paying jobs being shown to men or real estate ads being hidden from minorities.

Parting thought #3: Much as we use nutrition labels, perhaps regulators could find a way to demonstrate how certain tools or algorithms were created, with the information helping consumers understand the extent to which they may be reinforcing existing bias.

Tenth of December by George Saunders (December)

TOA Review: February 2022

Other notable TOA appearances: in the above review, there are additional links to three prior TOA appearances.

Notes: Wow, two books on the shortlist! I'm sure George Saunders considers this the pinnacle of his writing career (though he may be dismayed that this one does not advance to the top-three).

I think I've written enough about Tenth of December over the years that you might think I have nothing left to say about it. True! But I can steal from others, in this case a friend who pointed out that this was a tough book to read - not in the sense of an emotional challenge, but more so that Saunders uses a style which requires a bit of extra effort from the reader. Fair enough, but I think this is a lot like the situation of buying ramen - you can deal with the $1 Cup Noodles, or you can go someplace where the chef proves that extra effort is usually worth the price (TOA officially recommends Sapporo Ramen in Porter Square). So concludes the first and last paragraph in the history of this language that will mention both Tenth of December and Sapporo Ramen, the writing of which is perhaps the pinnacle of my writing career.

Parting thought: People will sometimes repeat the things they are doing, over and over, even if those things are rotten or evil, until they can convince themselves through repetition that it is normal.

reading clearout - february 2022

Hi reader,

Some short thoughts (but slightly longer than usual for a clearout) regarding books for which I won't bother with a full reading review.

Tenth of December by George Saunders (December 2021)

This short story collection is likely among TOA's most-referenced books - definitely in the top ten, probably even higher. It's currently on my "book of the year" shortlist for 2021, which may be familiar to longtime readers who recall its lofty finish in a prior edition (or some of the thoughts I pulled together after reading it for the second time). It also made it onto my "best book" shortlist, which I started working on a couple of years ago. By the way, that "best book" shortlist, maybe someday I'll get back to the project and finish it up...

Anyway, in the meantime my thoughts on this rereading, which saw me return for a second serving of four stories - "Victory Lap", "Escape from Spiderhead", "Home", and "Tenth of December". I went into this experience with an expectation that I would think the most of the title story, but the other three all stepped forward in their own memorable way - "Victory Lap" was a fitting opening story for the way it seemed to encapsulate the collection as a whole, "Escape from Spiderhead" got me thinking about a follow up project that (maybe) will appear soon on TOA, and "Home" left me wondering if the way my perspective has changed between readings was reflected in my reaction to the story. But when you find time on a winter's day to read "Tenth of December", then go outside to walk a lap around a nearby pond, you realize that it's the type of work which will forever sneak up on you anytime something reminds you of its exquisite details - a crack in the ice, a jacket on the ground, or the breath you take as you resolve yourself, one more time, to be a little bigger than you feel.

Orientation by Daniel Orozco (November 2021)

Back in November I briefly mentioned this collection, which is named after the short story I linked in this post (and includes a reference to one of my favorite lines of all-time). In addition to the title story, I reread "The Bridge" and the second part of "Temporary Stories". Like with the other work I've highlighted on TOA that makes a commentary on the state of modern working life, Orientation makes you wonder why anyone bothers to show up to work at all (and in this moment of the so-called "Great Resignation", perhaps some have taken such a conclusion to its next logical step). But I think what becomes clear over the course of this collection is that these stories, though indeed focused in their details on the working world, have an underlying commentary about life in general that may resonate with many readers.

As it so often is the case at work, there is the permanent question of a larger meaning whose answer always proves elusive, and this fact sometimes threatens to suffocate us. The way we navigate this lack of meaning in the workplace context - making compromises to include others, finding moments of light in the darkness, or steeling ourselves to do what must be done - informs us in a manner that extends outside the boundaries of work and emboldens us to keep doing the right thing, even as everything all around us seems permanently wrong.

Waiting for God by Simone Weil (August 2021)

I'm tempted to describe this as an incredible book, though of course I run the risk of implying my recommendation with such a statement. It's more that I have a hard time believing it exists. This collection, which I understand was pulled together after her death from various letters and previously unpublished essays, details a wide range of spiritual, political, and philosophical thinking that have inspired countless of readers and followers over the past few decades. 

There were a few notes I took down across a number of essays that resonated in varying ways. I liked the thought that prayer is essentially defined by attention, with greater quality attention leading to better prayer. Weil also notes that the principle truth of Christianity is that looking is what saves us, which I don't know much about beyond considering whether this implies that looking away is our doom. Weil suggests elsewhere that to become part of a mass such that we lose our own ability to distinguish ourselves is a particularly dangerous form of affliction, a result of her time in factory life that left her surprised at times when others spoke to her without brutality. She also notes the specific failure demonstrated by each instance where an accused is condemned in part because circumstances have made it impossible to articulate a defense, stammering instead before the privilege and injustice symbolized by the judge in the courtroom. Finally, there might be more to say to the remark that to be rooted is perhaps the greatest unrecognized need of the soul, but I suppose I should go back to my notes from reading The Need for Roots back in 2017 - or reference a prior reading review or two I posted about the book - before I take the thought any further.