Books
This is just a list of books I've read (2020-onward), and my thoughts on them. Nothing too exciting. Oh, and this is a spoiler-free zone (for fiction).
See: compact version, favourites/strongest recommendations, just Murakami books.
Race After Technology
by Ruha Benjamin
An enjoyabe re-read for me as I slowly grapple with the fact that I’m a person with much more responsibility than three months ago. A handful of things stood out for me during the second read. Most prominently, I’m thankful for Benjamin’s frequent direct quoting of other scholars, which both properly credits ideas & provides great rabbit hole material. I forgot just how much criticism she had for Jay-Z, all of which was prescient (and predictive of his crypto fiasco). And, of course, she does a great job of driving home that technology cannot be disentangled with race and power - and that passive action does not stop technology from replicating and amplifying historical injustices. I will say, I didn’t remember the pacing of the book - it feels almost like the first half of a lengthier magnum opus (maybe Viral Justice is part two)? And, similar to my experience reading many of these books - I’m left wanting more! That’s no dig to Benjamin - after all, I’ve already read this book and many others - but it is an interesting reflection on my development as a reader.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow
by Gabrielle Zevin
Life forced me to take an unplanned break from reading, but Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow is almost a perfect book to bring me back. A chunk of this book feels like lived experience: from Boston and Los Angeles (I didn’t expect to be so surprised by zip codes) and being completely immersed in the culture of video games to a full life of trauma and pain - it all felt almost a little too real. In broad strokes, I think this book occupies the same space as Scott Pilgrim and Ready Player One: a cult classic that leans into (elements of) nerd culture and a terminally-online mastery of references to drive home a point about the human condition (and in particular, love). While it’s not perfect - in many ways, for the same reasons as Scott Pilgrim and Ready Player One - this is a fantastical book in its own right. A hefty recommendation, particularly for anybody who’s a bit too online or delved a bit too much into making games.
Slaying Goliath
by Diane Ravitch
I wholly agree with the thesis of this book: privitization has wreaked havoc on the American public school system, and has largely failed to provide almost any of the benefits its proponents have provided. Ravitch does not pull punches in this takedown. She goes after the who’s who of education’s villains: from Bush, No Child Left Behind, and Common Core to Obama, Arne Duncan, and Rahm Emanuel; billionaires from the classic Koch brothers and Waltons to new tech of Bill Gates, Reed Hastings, and Mark Zuckerberg; for-profit charter networks like KIPP and educational monopolists like Pearson; grift from local politics all the way up to Betsy DeVos. The irony is not lost on my own personal experience, from CZI and EdTech to TFA and volunteer teachers to the shock I had learning about New Orleans’ school system. She brings an aggressive posture and an almost-vitriol that feels like what conservative pundits bring to the table. Yet, to be honest, the book feels slightly off. I’m not sure if this packs the same punch or picks apart arguments with the same precision as her contemporaries. For me, this is still a book worth reading, but it feels a bit too scrambled for it to be a strong recommendation.
Upgrade
by Blake Crouch
I’m not sure if this book beats Recursion for me. In many ways, it’s the same formula done well: normal person suddenly experiences great change, spy-thriller tension and action, and an ideological battleground for life’s bigger questions. It also quirkly features many extremely current references: in this future, tech companies are ubiquitous in an unconventional way. But, I have to say, it felt a bit predictable (though I’m slightly biased having just read Ted Chiang’s Understand). This is still an exciting read for action thriller fans, but not a mainstay of the genre.
A Brief History of Time
by Stephen Hawking
My biggest surprise is not how eloquently or simply Hawking explains the mysteries of theoretical physics - though he does so impressively by relying almost exclusively on visuals and clear prose. Instead, it was how much I chuckled! I regret not reading this book earlier (a friend once told me it went over their head); not only does it foster a natural curiosity about the creation of our universe, but it does so in a remarkably fun and witty way. A really fun and bingeable read.
Music Is History
by Questlove and Ben Greenman
On one hand, this is a delightful read; it’s clear that Questlove has a burning passion for music, and he translates this into a narrative surrounding cultural shocks in the United States and the rise of The Roots. It blows my mind that The Fugees, in part, had a break off of their signing party. Broadly, the idea behind this book is stellar - the ending tidbits on the songs from each of the years is a highlight. On the other hand, I feel partially scammed; the book skips over the last 20 years (which, to me, are some of the most interesting ones!), and I expected to read a bit more about the mainstream success of rap and their eventual place on The Tonight Show. I’m also curious how involved Greenman was (his writing credit is pretty downplayed). All in all, still a fun coffee table read!
The Signal and the Noise
by Nate Silver
I’ve never been part of the church of Nate Silver - nor some of the eclectic guests in this book, like Donald Rumsfeld - but I can’t argue with his results. His take on (the lack of) predictive power and his unabashed nature as a Bayesian make for a very approachable and entertaining read. In particular, I’m pleasantly surprised by the modesty he has for the field of forecasting; most of the competing books in this sphere of pop social science claim to have a perfect theory that models everything. Instead, he engages with the uncomfortable truth that predictions are just hard. I will say that it’s very clear where his passions lie; the level of detail for the poker, baseball, and polling chapters significantly overshadow the tail end’s focus on climate change or terrorism. Nevertheless, if you’re a frequentism-hater, this is the book you should convert your friends with.
Stories of Your Life and Others
by Ted Chiang
Arrival is one of my favourite movies; I owed it to myself to read the original, and wow, am I impressed! Stories of Your Life is remarkably moving for such a concise short story. But, it doesn’t steal the show. Tower of Babylon shows off Chiang’s amazing world-building skills, while Hell Is the Absence of God demonstrates his unique take on seemingly over done science fiction and fantasy tropes (in this case, angels on Earth). Liking What You See and Seventy-Two Letters provide opposite approaches in how science fiction engages ethics (ranging from as in-your-face as possible to an ambient background noise). All in all, a wonderfully short set of reads, and a strong recommend!
Jim Crow's Children
by Peter Irons
Neutrally, this book is exactly what you want from a mid-depth history book. Irons paints stellar pictures of the lead-up to Brown, a play-by-play of the multiple hearings it received, and the ultimate failure of its true mission almost 50 years since its ruling. I’m impressed by the depth of the legal review (though I perhaps was looking for slightly more education policy). There are some funny moments too - like Thurgood Marshall giving perhaps his worst-ever Supreme Court appearance in the second round of Brown. I’m not particularly convinced of some of the framing that explains the current failures black students face - I think Irons’s focus on black single mothers is too individualistic/reductionist - but it’s certaily still a prescient set of conclusions now. If you’re interested in the legal history behind school segregation, I think this is a great starting point.
The Curator
by Owen King
To be completely honest, I should’ve read some reviews before picking up this book. It sounds really interesting, mostly in a Murakami-like way: the elements of surrealism, social commentary, and cats. But, the book falls pretty flat. I didn’t find much depth in the characters, particularly in a protagonist that mirrors all the bad things about Murakami and women. The book has more worldbuilding than Dune, but it doesn’t have the narrative or the payoff to justify it. And, at the very end, I feel extraordinarily unsatisfied. I could have accepted this as a prequel to a trilogy, but not as a standalone book. Definitely one of my harshest reviews (and I feel a bit bad!), but I really am quite disappointed.
Floating City
by Sudhir Venkatesh
This is a fascinating if unconventional read. Sudhir embeds himself in New York’s informal economy with a focus on sex work. There are some stellar personal stories from sex workers, drug dealers, and surprisingly, many clients. He’s also surprisingly vulernable about his own personal struggles doing this work, ranging from ethics concerns and his desire for prestige to his impending divorce. However, this book also leaves me uneasy. Venkatesh himself identifies the vast moral quandries with this style of sociology, and doesn’t pitch this as pure academic research. It reads much more like a slow-burn thriller than a sociology book, and the Freakonomics influence - both good and bad - is clear as day. I’m still not really sure how I feel about this book.
Illiterate America
by Jonathan Kozol
Kozol is raw and angry in one of his most famous books. His prognosis - that we’re significantly undercounting illiterate (adult) Americans, and that our literacy programs are rapidly failing - is as detailed as it is bleak. Like his other work, he effortlessly blends individual experiences from communities that he’s visited with broader arguments about nationwide policy and educational norms. That being said, I think there are areas that compare poorly to his later work; in particular, I felt that the ending lost quite a bit of focus and didn’t end up being the call to action I wanted it to be. More than his other books, it also reads slightly harsh on the victims of illiteracy and toes the line of uncomfortable saviourism. Nevertheless, I think it’s a valuable read. I’m more curious than ever what the state is of literacy in the present day; many of the literacy programs he discussed did collapse, but how did the rise of the internet (and the continued defunding of libraries and schools) pare up with declining absolute poverty?
Hip-Hop Revolution: The Culture and Politics of Rap
by Jeffrey O. G. Ogbar
Wow, I loved reading this book! There’s much of hip hop history that I’m still unfamiliar with. I especially appreciated Ogbar’s discussion of the early Puerto Rican influences in rap, effective criticism of the conscious/gangsta rap dichotomy, and the unexpected John McWhorter hit piece (I just read Words on the Move the day before). I also quite appreciated the section on feminism and rap, even if it was much shorter than I wanted it to be. I’d love a part two; the book was written at a (supposed) watershed moment in rap, with Graduation about to outsell Curtis and the subsequent shifts in the genre (from gangsta to pop rap, trap, and now international + experimental). We’ve since seen a rapid diversification of mainstream rap in many of the axes discussed in the book (race, geography, gender, relationship to political activism). How can we take these lessons into the genre’s 50th birthday?
Words on the Move
by John McWhorter
I wanted to break up an admittedly depressing streak of books with something more lighthearted, and McWhorter doesn’t disappoint! I love this genre of pop linguistics (think Because Internet); McWhorter shines some lovely insight into the evolution of human language while keeping a light and playful tone. Interestingly, the book stays surprisingly apolitical (especially given both linguistics as a field, and McWhorter’s outspoken views).
This Is How You Lose the Time War
by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone
Objectively, this is a beautiful book: the letters feel like I’m reading modern-day poetry, and the cultural easter eggs dotted throughout the novella are tiny rewards by themselves. It’s certainly a novel way of telling a wonderful story, and I see why it’s gotten all the hype it has. Yet, even after a re-read, I can’t help but feel a bit bad: I don’t feel the same level of emotion or attachment to the characters as my friends have. It’s short enough that I think it’s worth a read, but be careful with hyping it up too much!
The Shame of the Nation
by Jonathan Kozol
Three strong recommendations in a row - I can’t get enough of Kozol. I’m surprised at how versatile and personable he is. This book reads just like Death at an Early Age and Letters to a Young Teacher, even though the latter two are first-hand and epistolary in nature. He makes a blistering argument against the regression back into segregated schooling by providing a delicate balance between individual stories about children and teachers, arguments about school districts and states, and heavy-handed analysis of federal policy. His argumentation is so effective yet so polite; filled with rage, but directed with a measured approach. It’s a depressing read, and unfortunately, the backslide has continued. For example, the Thurgood Marshall school he writes about still is almost entirely black and hispanic. This is one of those books that I really wish every American would read; I’m honestly even going to recommend this to my students.
God Help the Child
by Toni Morrison
This book is just punch after punch after punch. Morrison exercises restraint in a concise set of twists and turns about colour and children.
Beyond Measure
by James Vincent
I’m left feeling quite whelmed. I completely buy into the thesis of this book: measurements (and units) are (somewhat arbitrarily) grounded in deep history, but encode profound amounts of power and can be used to oppress. Vincent hits on some interesting tidbits, including the ties measurement has to European revolutionaries, Pax Americana, and the tie between IQ and eugenics. But, I feel like so much more was left on the table. I would have liked to see discussions about the role of census data, gerrymandering, and property rights; about standardized testing or credit scores or GDP; or, a focus on measurement outside of the West. Regardless, it’s given me some food for thought, which I greatly appreciate!
Firefighting: The Financial Crisis and Its Lessons
by Ben Bernake, Timothy Geithner, and Henry Paulson
I’m quite surprised by how humble Bernake, Geithner, and Paulson are in decade-out retrospective. Firefighting is blazingly short but quite accessible; along the timeline of the crisis, the trio touches on everything from various financial instruments to non-bank entitites and the obligations their respective institutions have to the United States. I hadn’t realized that they intended to rescue Lehman (though, as they admit, this was intentionally obfuscated), and I didn’t realize how late public stress tests were introduced to the financial system. I only wished that they spent more time talking about the (ever-controversial) QE package. While this is obviously a biased retelling of the events and lessons to be learned, it’s quite effective - and one that scratches the itch I had in high school (where my dream job was to work for the CPFB)!
Home
by Toni Morrison
From an analytical perspective, this is powerful literature: Morrison pulls no punches with symbolism, clashing motifs around the definition of home, and a jittery set of narrative perspectives that uncover each piece of the puzzle. In particular, I’m impressed by her reserved and concise portrayal of PTSD. However, I can’t say that it’s moved me in the same way that Homegoing did. This is still a great read, and I think it deserves a thorough literary lens for its best enjoyment - not an interrupted read on the T.
Brotopia
by Emily Chang
In a depressing way, this is a great read for anybody who works adjacent to tech. Brotopia serves a great balance between delving into individual experiences (which much of tech reporting doesn’t) while still tacking the underpinning social dynamics and properly attributing blame (which is lacking from books like Lean In). I’m quite impressed by how ahead of the curve some of Chang’s reporting has been; in 2018, I don’t think the relationship between tech, polyamory, and sex was as commonplace as it is now (post-SBF/FTX). I did chuckle a bit at some of her examples of “good” companies - Riot strikes me as one that seems particularly poor in retrospect. If anything, it’s a reminder that tech doesn’t inherently create good examples of anti-sexism; it requires deliberate, prolonged work. I’m curious what Chang would add if she rewrote this book today, and look forward to her next work!
Circe
by Madeline Miller
In the best way possible, this felt like an adult Percy Jackson. In danger of sounding too much like the book’s initial reception, I’m quite impressed by the book’s central framing around Circe and women’s stories. Like a great cover, I loved Miller’s artistic flair with tried and true myths and her take on truth. While the pacing felt a bit off at times, that’s a small speck on an elegant piece of literature.
Letters to a Young Teacher
by Jonathan Kozol
I’m once again deeply moved by Kozol’s writing. Like I’d expect from a teacher, it has a healthy balance of passionate idealism, childlike love, and a “wiggily” whimsy that makes this such a smooth read. I’m also in awe of the breadth of the topics that Kozol and Francesca (the titular teacher) discussed: micro-interactions, macro policy decisions, and above all the true, child-focused mission for education. I’m particularly impressed by his concise points on school vouchers, standardized testing crunches, and issues with education diversity work. I’m glad I read this before starting to become a full-time teacher myself; and I hope to have a mentor like Kozol, or a peer like Francesca.
A Brief History of Equality
by Thomas Piketty | translated by Steven Rendell
I’m too used to the American political battleground and culture. Living in the US for almost 5 years is making me a bit complacent! Piketty rips me straight out of this bubble in his most accessible work yet; analyzing in-depth the history of equality from the 1800s to the present-day. He doesn’t pull any punches; it’s been a while since I’ve read an economics book that is so concise, ambitious, and at times, ruthless. I’m just in awe of how much he’s able to convey in so few pages; I’m particularly impressed by just how well he argues points about slavery and colonialism, inequality in education, and environmental justice. His ambitious future is one that I want to fight for. I can’t recommend this book enough for anyone remotely interested in economic justice. And, it’s pushing me to reread Capital again … which I’ll do soon :)
Invisible Cities
by Italo Calvino | translated by William Weaver
I read this book on a flight and thus didn’t do it justice. The breadth of possible literary analysis on this book astounds me, even if I wasn’t gripped in the first read. It’s so dense with metaphor that … I’ll have to revisit this another time. Nevertheless, I’ll try to pick up more Calvino!
What If? 2
by Randall Munroe
I love love love all of Randall’s work (this is especially apparent if you’re my student). No exception here - an extraordinarily fun and slightly educational read. I loved the focus on kids’ questions this time around!
The Line Becomes a River
by Francisco Cantú
The content of this book is tragic, even if the prose isn’t perfect. I’m not sure if I would’ve recommended this book for UCLA’s Common Experience, but it’s certainly an interesting - if depressing - read.
When Breath Becomes Air
by Paul Kalanithi
In the foreword, Abraham Verghese says that he only deeply knew Paul after his death by reading this book. I can’t disagree there: Kalanithi’s prose and wit is laser-sharp in this 200-odd page autobiography, and I really did come away feeling like I understood his purpose and perspective. His relationship with death and work stood out to me as uniquely insightful; in a much lesser degree, I see parallels with my relationship with teaching. I think I’m not at a point in my life yet where this book would fundamentally shake my worldview, but it’s one that I plan on revisiting in ten years.
Bad Samaritans
by Ha-Joon Chang
With no exaggeration, this book is one of the best critiques of economic neoliberalism that I’ve ever read. Ha-Joon masterfully engages with free trade on all fronts: through history, theory, case studies, and counter-examples; with die-hard theorists and relentless empiricists. He’s effective at challenging the assumptions of predominant economic models, centering on myopic views of technology, culture, and policy. I particularly enjoyed his commentary on the absurdity of calling entire cultures “lazy”. And, I love Ha-Joon’s writing style - it feels like a wonderful conversation between two friends. Overall, a book I’d recommend to the vast majority of my friends!
Of Mice and Men
by John Steinbeck
This is one of those classic “high school English class” books. On one hand, it’s a remarkably poignant and fundamentally sad book; doubly-so given when this book was published. On the other hand, I feel like there are elements that I just didn’t “get”. Still, Steinbeck is dually concise and passionate, and I felt like this was a good use of an hour!
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
by Mark Haddon
In many ways, this book occupies the same place in my heart as Forrest Gump. I feel both happy and sad for our protagonist and his life situation. Beyond that, the book has some neat light elements of metafiction. Surely a moving read!
Failure to Disrupt
by Justin Reich
Justin Reich clearly enunciates a lesson that I wish I knew earlier: tech hasn’t, and probably never will, “solve” education. He nails many of the things that have been on my mind over the past ten years; I grew up in the age of MOOCs and hypergamification and have lived his area of expertise. An extraordinarily fitting book for me to read before my UW interview, and a stellar recommendation from Shriram. I’m a bit biased, but I think this is mandatory reading for anybody in EdTech (or CS Ed). My only wish is for more depth.
The Alchemist
by Paulo Coelho | translated by Clifford E. Landers
I can’t shake the feeling that I just … didn’t get it? The interleaving of biblical references and parables into such a concise story is neat. I find myself thinking about The New York Times calling this “more self-help than literature” - The Alchemist has both the best and the worst of the genre. Nevertheless, I see the potential impact from this book - and its relentless pursuit of destiny - on any reader.
A Happy Death
by Albert Camus | translated by Richard Howard
The prequel / alternate history of The Stranger is certainly interesting, even if some of its nuance is lost on me. I’m surprised how much more love, happiness, and sex plays into this characterization of Mersault. Neat that Zagreus appears here too!
The Diving Pool
by Yōko Ogawa | translated by Stephen Snyder
Between this and Natsuo Kirino’s Grotesque, there’s something different about how fundamentally disturbing some Japanese literature can be. The eopnymous first story is cruel, the second trippy, and the third haunted. Great short read!
Everything I Never Told You
by Celeste Ng
Celeste Ng’s debut book is already a masterclass in family drama. Every character is motivated perfectly, every twist and turn is unexpected but completely reasonable. I’m especially moved by Lydia’s trials and tribulations. It makes me even more excited for her next work!
God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian
by Kurt Vonnegut
A tight, neat, and abrupt set of near-death interviews. Each 90 second vignette has a moment that gives you pause or an “a-ha”!
Cloud Cuckoo Land
by Anthony Doerr
Quite enjoyed Doerr’s spin on books-within-books and the Cloud Atlas-style narration. Compared to other novels with epic time spans, I felt more emotionally connected to Doerr’s characters; I also was a particular fan of Zeno’s arc. The continuity of time periods and mediums is really thoughtfully executed. I only have light criticism for the spaceship arc and writing. Overall, a really enjoyable read, especially if you like blends of historical and science fiction!
Tokyo Ueno Station
by Yu Miri | translated by Morgan Giles
A short, depressing book in the most beautiful way possible. Perhaps not the best book to pick up after a depression-induced hiatus, but a silently gripping read nonetheless. Kazu: you never did have any luck, did you?
Beautiful World, Where Are You
by Sally Rooney
Continuing the binge. This still has the relatable and easily-digestible prose of her other two books, with a bit more aggressive politics and philosophy mixed in. In some ways, this book made me profoundly sad - though it’s also a function of my (frankly) extraordinarily depressive mood. At this point, I see myself becoming a diehard Sally Rooney fan.
Conversations With Friends
by Sally Rooney
Definitely on a bit of a romance binge! Conversations With Friends has the same easy-reading and effortless movement between love and trauma that drew me in to Normal People. At the same time, this book feels more uncomfortable to me - in ways that are both good and bad.
Flights
by Olga Tokarczuk | translated by Jennifer Croft
I enjoyed stumbling through travels and travel psychology and Eastern Europe with Tokarczuk. In many instances, I’m left confused - I feel like I still don’t get the book - but I’m also quite intrigued. Certainly a novel book!
Normal People
by Sally Rooney
In the best way possible, this book was a painful read. I often love love - and Sally Rooney does a stellar job portraying love (and what’s not quite it) in a perfect story about imperfect people. Some parts of the book definitely hit too close to home. This book is such an easy read - which makes it a superb recommendation - and will likely kick off a romance binge phase!
Severance
by Ling Ma
Embarassingly, I thought this was related to the Apple TV show. The embarassment ends there - Ling Ma creates a page turner out of corporate monotony, office politics, and offshore manufacturing. The zombie experience alternates between the literal and metaphorical almost seamlessly. It was too easy to read the entire book in a day. Stellar recommendation.
The Buried Giant
by Kazuo Ishiguro
I feel so not-smart reading this book! I felt like I was wading through mud trying to uncover a stellar plot and intriguing characters; I finish still confused. The climax almost makes all the murky waters quite worth it. The focus on collective memory and trauma is masterful. Maybe this warrants a revisit when life is less hectic and my mind is more clear.
Recursion
by Blake Crouch
Recursion blends the heart-pounding nature of a straight thriller with some of the philosophical questions that classic science fiction poses: what, really, is a memory? Crouch’s protagonists are convincingly human; like great sci-fi, the core is about people, not technology. This is exactly where I want to see the sci-fi thriller genre in the future! As an aside, it’s funny reading sci-fi that also incorporates recent current affairs - like namedropping Glenn Greenwald (staying with the Guardian?).
A Pale View of the Hills
by Kazuo Ishiguro
Ishiguro’s debut novel is puzzling in the best way possible. It’s hard to explain this book reads - it’s mundane but also disturbing in a very unique way. I think it’ll require another reread down the line to fully realize how interesting this book is. It’s an on-the-fence recommendation, at least for now.
The Martian
by Andy Weir
This was one of the easiest books to read: Mark Watney’s inner dialogue rolls off of each page effortlessly. The science satisfies the part of me that wanted to become an astronaut, and the character almost feels more lively than the movie. I’m flabbergasted that this is Weir’s first novel, and that he’s a software engineer by training! Certainly a book I’d recommend to people who find it hard to get back into reading!
The Water Dancer
by Ta-Nehisi Coates
Ta-Nehisi Coates’ debut novel is a tantalizing premise: a reflection on the Antebellum south intertwined with supernaturalism. At times, I stumbled while reading through the book; without spoiling, I do wish the tail end was fleshed out a bit more. However, in the same vein as Homegoing, I think Coates provides a novel and moving depiction of America’s troubled history, and how its ideals still manifest themselves today.
Piranesi
by Susanna Clarke
Wow, just wow - this book is making me rethink all of my previous strong recommendations. Susanna Clarke brings you along for what I can only describe as calm psychological thriller. It’s a book that I imagine I’ll want to read again for the first time for many years to come. In some ways, the Portal 2 of books? Strong strong recommend.
The Handmaid's Tale
by Margaret Atwood
I feel like I’ve done my due diligence as a Canadian - but beyond that, Atwood is concise and provocative. The book itself reads well, and the stream-of-consciousness / metafiction elements are done quite well. However, what I think is most interesting is Atwood’s framing of the book itself - that, in writing it, she hasn’t invented a new reality, but simply extended upon history. For that reason alone, I find The Handmaid’s Tale spectacular.
Ready Player One
by Ernest Cline
In the best and the worst ways, this is the Logic of science fiction books. On one hand, this is a clear love letter to pop culture, science fiction, the 80’s, and just being a nerd. Cline tells an immersive story filled with geekdom and potshots at commercial capitalism - it’s very impressive that this is his first novel. That being said, I can’t get over the weird, almost incel-y vibes of the protagonist; I have similar critiques for in-universe classics like Revenge of the Nerds. Still an enjoyable read, and an interesting complement to Spielberg’s movie!
Debt: The First 5000 Years
by David Graeber
I’m now torn. On one hand, I think the storytelling and narrative of this book is resoundingly novel. It challenges the creation myths of barter, coinage, and ultimately, modern economics. Many of its ideas are revolutionary and provide a stellar alternate perspective on the world. That being said - I think I’ll need to think a bit more about how verifiable these claims are. Still, an absolute stellar recommend for anybody interested in economics and/or human history - the intro chapter alone is all worth it.
Invisible Man
by Ralph Ellison
Invisible Man is packed to the brim, and I need more time to think. My initial thought is just how accurate Ralph Ellison’s portrayal of the co-opting of social justice is today, seventy years after its writing. In some ways, Ellison foretells the American civil rights movement before it actually happens. Surely recommended reading for any American.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
by Ken Kesey
A younger me would have been absolutely destroyed by this book. Kesey paints a horrific tragedy on the backdrop of a psychiatric hospital - grounded in authority, power, and agency. The central theme surrounding oppressive institutions and the actors within them still rings true today. Even if aspects of the book haven’t aged particularly well - especially compared to its contemporaries - Kesey has written a classic.
Building For Everyone
by Annie Jean-Baptiste
To be completely honest, this book felt like too much of a Google ad. Jean-Baptiste does bring up relevant points on the importance of product inclusion, balancing the human and business case, and bringing inclusion into each element of the design phase. However, it all just feels a bit off - both in how glorified Google is in the book, and in the mismatch of depth of context and advice. The sidebars from other people in industry are also a mixed bag. Overall, I don’t regret reading the book, but it doesn’t reach the bar that Design Justice has set.
the phone booth at the edge of the world
by Laura Imai Messina | translated by Lucy Rand
Admittedly, I bought this book partially because the cover looks really good. Nevertheless, I’m glad I gave it a read. Messina delves into grief, loss, and love through a moving slice-of-life fiction. It’s also a personal look at the aftermath of the 2011 tsunami, without delving into the controversy of the Fukushima nuclear plant. In some ways, the book felt a bit messy, unsatisfying, and unpolished - but still a novel experience!
Second Foundation
by Isaac Asimov
I much enjoyed the third book over the second; it feels satisfying to see more of psychohistory and psychology take center stage, rather than be brushed under the rug. While the book significantly departs from the historical stage of the collapse of the Holy Roman Empire, it gives freedom to add several key twists that keep the book a page-turner.
Little Fires Everywhere
by Celeste Ng
Celeste Ng’s sophomore novel is an absolute sucker punch. Without spoiling the main premise of the book, it is a masterpiece in family and relational drama. I’m teleported to Shaker Heights and feel the stress of the Richardsons and Warrens. I’m especially impressed by the last third of the book, where all of Ng’s setup and various moving parts all click into place. A strong and timely recommendation.
The Word for World Is Forest
by Ursula K. Le Guin
As someone who has not read any other books in the Hainish Cycle, I’m not the most fond of this novella. I can understand the novelty of the work: the anti-colonialism, ecofiction resource extraction theme is the precursor to the same themes in Avatar (the blue people one) or Princess Mononoke. However, I personally felt that the story felt less fleshed-out and nuanced than contemporaries like Dune. Still, it is an interesting read, and one I’d recommend to ecofiction fans.
Foundation and Empire
by Isaac Asimov
The sequel to the seminal Foundation takes a different angle. I still loved it, but I wasn’t as engrossed as the original. I do appreciate the new plot developments, but in some ways, they feel like cheating the rules of the universe. Nevertheless, excited to read Second Foundation!
Watchmen
by Alan Moore, Dave Gibbons, John Higgins
Who watches the watchmen? The comic book that changed societal perspectives on comics as a medium is as poignant as ever. Watchmen is a stellar commentary on superhero vigilantism, American imperialism, and the fundamental nature and morals of humanity. It also juxtaposes the icons of Western culture with the horrific reality of its product. My only regret is reading the book after watching the movie. The HBO series is definitely next on my list.
Foundation
by Isaac Asimov
Foundation is a stellar use of the future to examine our past. Asimov packages the rise and fall of great empires into a grand narrative surrounding power. A genre-definer in its own right; excited to read more!
A Personal Matter
by Kenzaburō Ōe
Ōe’s musings on the birth of his mentally disabled son are simultaneously beautiful and disturbing. The profound impact of this novel is clear. Nevertheless, I can’t say it’s my cup of tea - I’m moreso shaken and confused than astounded.
How Democracies Die
by Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt
Levitsky and Ziblatt provide a strong intuition for long-term success of democracy. Norms, not constitutions or separation of powers, uphold democracy. Two key tenets - mutual toleration and the lack of constitutional hardball - perfectly describe the past as well as the two years immediately following the book’s publication. I do have minor grievances: a focus on Europe and the Americas leaves us with little in the lens of democracy in Africa, and there’s a peculiar framing around Reconstruction and Jim Crow. Nevertheless, the book achieves its twin goals quite well: combatting Trumpism and arguing for a safer American democracy.
The Sympathizer
by Viet Thanh Nguyen
The Sympathizer is anger, confusion, and nihilism manifested into literature. Nguyen’s writing style is deeply intimate and shocking, if dramatic at times. The narrator’s whirlwind tour of the aftermath of the Vietnam War is as enthralling as it is disturbing. Commentary seeps in to every page of the book: on war, political ideology, hypocrisy, sex, dignity, allegiance, propaganda and ultimately, duality. Nothing is worth more than independence and freedom.
Design Justice
by Sasha Costanza-Chock
Wow, I’m in awe. Sasha Costanza-Chock does a stellar job of deconstructing design and analyzing it through the lens of intersectionality and the matrix of dominantion. This book is in rare form - the ideas are novel and groundbreaking, but the text is extremely accessible with strong ties to real practice. I especially enjoyed their discussion on design sites, challenging the exclusive culture of hackathons, makerspaces, and other hacker clubs. I wish I read this book before I ran Teach LA; a must-read for anybody with decision-making in the design process.
Slaughterhouse-Five
by Kurt Vonnegut
This book was not at all what I imagined it to be. Vonnegut’s breakthrough is the prototypical everything: an anti-war book, a satire, humanistic science fiction, and a razor-sharp prose and style that has defined postmodernism. It is memento mori. So it goes.
Dune
by Frank Herbert
Yes, yes, everybody’s talking about Dune. I quite enjoyed the read! Dune is such a cornerstone of science fiction. By mostly eschewing crazy technology, Herbert puts humanity itself in the front-and-center. I’m especially fond of Dune’s focus on ecology and religion. Beyond the book itself, I now better understand the full impact Dune has had on modern science fiction and pop science as a whole. My only caveat is that Dune - like other fantastical epics - requires quite a bit of buy-in to process the worldbuilding. I think for any science fiction fan, Dune is a must-read.
Devils in Daylight
by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki | translated by J. Keith Vincent
My first Tanizaki book is as mysterious as it is binge-readable. Without giving away any plot devices, the meta-literature of this book is stunning. A great short read, easily doable in one sitting. Thanks to Amber for the rec!
Klara and the Sun
by Kazuo Ishiguro
Klara and the Sun is a haunting tale. While the trope of “seeing the world as a robot” is nothing new, Ishiguro’s take on it struck a particular emotional cord with me. Klara has a pure, childlike innocence that makes her perspective as jarring as it is intelligent. Definitely looking to read more of his work!
Death's End
by Cixin Liu | translated by Ken Liu
Death’s End is a fitting end to Liu’s groundbreaking science fiction trilogy. It features the most extravagant world-breaking physics I’ve ever read, and uses it to once again tackle the core issues of humanity, responsibility, and struggle. If more science fiction was like this, I would definitely be a physicist right now. Strong recommend for this entire series.
The Trial
by Franz Kafka | translated by Breon Mitchell
After reading so many modern incarnations of Kafkaesque works, I felt obligated to go to the source. The Trial is an interesting read - the writing style mirrors the absurd, complex, meandering nature of its title. Yet, at the end, I’m left a bit unsatisfied: either by design, or by the unfinished nature of the book.
The Dark Forest
by Cixin Liu | translated by Joel Martinsen
The Dark Forest is yet another enthralling exploration of what human nature is. Even moreso than The Three-Body Problem, Liu pushes humanity to its absolute breaking point to highlight the absolute darkness of humankind. The buy-in, the suspension of disbelief, is entirely natural. The outcome is a book that’s impossible to put down.
Never Let Me Go
by Kazuo Ishiguro
Ishiguro proves his mettle as a Nobel laureate in this serenely demoralizing exploration of humanity. Never Let Me Go is the perfect example of the right amount of detail, creating a page-turner out of a seemingly mundane life. The book is both a slow burn and a sucker punch in its last act. Excited to read more Ishiguro!
One Hundred Years of Solitude
by Gabriel García Márquez | translated by Gregory Rabassa
One Hundred Years of Solitude is an epic in every sense of the word. Márquez dives deep into a world as surreal as it is engaging; the chronicles of the Buendía family span every genre but ultimately hones in on inevitable solitude. It’s quite tough for me to describe exactly just how beautiful this book is. I will say - it was a rather hard read for me to get through, but I’d still recommend it as a pinnacle of modern literature.
The Memory Police
by Yōko Ogawa | translated by Stephen Snyder
The Memory Police is a harrowing exploration of humanity grounded in memory. Ogawa creates a mysterious authoritarian state that rivals Orwell’s or Bradbury’s, but brings a certain balance of intimacy and coldness that renders this novel particularly terrifying. Her writing style is terse, exploratory, wrapping tendrils around your mind - and she doesn’t let go. Overall a strong recommend.
Crying in H Mart
by Michelle Zauner
I’ve never been a huge memoir person, but Michelle Zauner is changing my mind. Crying in H Mart is a direct channel for her emotions: pain, love, and loss bleed through each page. She brings us intimately into her family and tells a story that you can taste and smell as much as you can read. She juggles a set of experiences that I find all too relatable: of parental struggle, fitting in neither in America nor in Asia, and ultimately, a feeling of hopelessness. A strong recommend.
First Person Singular
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Philip Gabriel
Another neatly-wrapped set of short stories from Murakami. Nothing too much to say, other than they are an enjoyable read - I wouldn’t strongly recommend or not-recommend the series to anybody. The one-two punch of With the Beatles and Confessions of a Shinagawa Monkey were my favourites.
The Three-Body Problem
by Cixin Liu | translated by Ken Liu
The Three-Body Problem is everything I love about science fiction: not just pushing the limits of technology and imagination, but exploring the nature of humanity at technological extremes. Cixin Liu balances the philosophical nature of science and interstellar physics against the backdrop of the Cultural Revolution; Ken Liu’s translation is immaculate.
Grotesque
by Natsuo Kirino | translated by Rebecca Copeland
Per recommendation, I forayed a bit deeper into modern Japanese literature, and I’m horrified. Grotesque is like watching seven different train-wrecks happen one after another: each one is more gruesome than the last, but somehow you can’t peel your eyes away. I hated every single character in this book, in the best way possible. Definitely a shaky recommendation, though an equally interesting book. The writing (and/or translation) is also uncanny at times, toeing the line between immersive and jarring.
Because Internet
by Gretchen McCulloch
Because Internet is everything I love about linguistics and the internet. McCulloch is a masterful (but witty and hip) writer, and deconstructs the history, sociology, and ultimately the core language of the ~ online ~. Each chapter gave so much context to internet-isms I’ve taken for granted, from lowercase texting to sparkle sarcasm to a history of memes. Strong recommend for … literally anybody. (I didn’t get a chance to read at all during spring quarter, but that’s no reflection on the book)
Pachinko
by Min Jin Lee
I’m in awe. Pachinko is a master class in epic fiction. I would say it is one of the best books I have ever read, period. It is a story of tragedy, perserverance, identity, and family like no other. I don’t have much else to say, other than that it’s been the first piece of media to make me (almost) cry for a long while. Please read this book.
The Tyranny of Merit
by Michael J. Sandel
Sandel offers a scathing critique of meritocracy on several fronts: as a backdrop to justify prejudice, as a means to demoralize the worse-off, and ultimately, as a flawed way to structure society. He unites the views of Hayek, Rawls, and Frank Knight to reject merit in economics and in morals. I particularly enjoyed his exploration of college admissions as a flawed form of credentialism, what he calls the “last acceptable prejudice”. To be honest, I think I subconsciouly take part in this credentialism - and it’s always good to read books that spark introspection. Overall a solid recommendation, even if there are a few strange tangents.
Twilight of Democracy
by Anne Applebaum
In an effort to diversify my news intake and relive my debate nostalgia, I splurged on Twilight of Democracy. It does not disappoint. Anne Applebaum writes an electrifying page-turner that deconstructs the rise of modern authoriarianism. She balances a blunt and concise telling of history with an inside look at the European and American centre-right, and its spiral into … what we have today. In some ways, she is the perfect person to tell this story, from her husband’s political career in Poland to awkward drinks with Boris Johnson and her chance interactions with Conrad Black. She effortlessly interleaves post-Cold War anti-communism with English nationalism and the Republican party. Ultimately, I’m glad I took a chance on Applebaum, even if her politics is at odds with mine.
Mismatch: How Inclusion Shapes Design
by Kat Holmes
Mismatch is a quick primer on inclusive design. As someone who’s struggled through design and fights for inclusivity, this was a must-read. I really enjoyed how Kat Holmes frames exclusion as a set of mismatches between humans and systems. And, Holmes brings forward interesting case studies and historical trends that shape inclusive and exclusive design. However, I can’t help but wish that the book went on longer: either in depth, exploring specific design choices and Kat’s design style, or in breadth, in examining more arenas for inclusive design. In some senses, Mismatch reads like a foreword for a book that isn’t there. Nevertheless, an enjoyable read!
Weapons of Math Destruction
by Cathy O'Neil
It’s been a tough past few weeks, but I finally got around to reading - and I’m glad I picked Weapons of Math Destruction. Cathy O’Neil is concise but hard-hitting in a surprisingly accessible read on the dangers of big data algorithms and their inequitable outcomes. She balances a mathematical and industry-backed understanding of data with the nuance of sociology and public policy, a combination that’s unfortunately all to rare to find. Weapons of Math Destruction deserves the strongest of recommendations. Not just for those who work with data, but those who are affected by data: everyone.
Pessimism: Philosophy, Ethic, Spirit
by Joshua Foa Dienstag
Finally finished the first book I started in 2021. This is, without exaggeration, one of the densest books that I’ve read. Dienstag takes us on a whirlwind tour of the philosophy of pessimism - an often misused and misunderstood school of thought. I’ll admit, much of this book went over my head: I am barely familiar with Nietzsche, Freud, or Foucault, and I am no scholar of Don Quixote nor Cioran. Still, Dienstag’s deep dive into the linearity of time and the constant human struggle was intriguing. Certainly, it’s reinvigorated the interest in philosophy I’ve had over the years. I’ll probably revisit this book in a decade or so.
Bullshit Jobs
by David Graeber
A stark, nuanced peek into meaningless jobs and the ruthless capitalism that underpins it. I think Graeber produces a very convincing paradigm of “bullshit jobs” and their impacts on the human psyche, productivity, and capitalism. Compared to many of the cut-and-dry economics books I’ve read, I especially appreciated Graeber’s human take on fulfilling jobs. My one wish: I hope we get more quantitative research into this field, whether or not his theory is empirically correct. RIP to David Graeber.
The Strange Library
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Ted Goossen
Not the first book I started in 2021, but the first I finished. A refreshing illustrated take on Murakami!
Killing Commendatore
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Philip Gabriel and Ted Goossen
And with that, I finish all of Murakami’s fiction novels. Admittedly, Killing Commendatore is long - and at times, it almost feels drawn out - but I’m never bored. I’m no painter, but I loved the exploration of art and an artists psyche. Murakami effortlessly blends historical flashbacks with a slightly surrealist world à la The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle or A Wild Sheep Chase. I’m also more drawn to our unnamed hero more than the typical Murakami protagonist. All-around, a book worth the lengthy buy-in, though it’s not the first Murakami book I’d recommend you.
Pinball, 1973
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Ted Goossen
What a strange book. Compared to Hear the Wind Sing, Pinball really develops the Murakami eccentricity: unnaturally lonely men, mysterious women, and hyperfixation on the most normal, strange parts of life. It’s also a very jumpy, loose book - this is the start of the dual narrative that Murakami uses so frequently in his later works. Reflecting on reading the Trilogy of the Rat + Dance Dance Dance, it’s interesting to see just how stylistically different each of these books are.
Hear the Wind Sing
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Ted Goossen
Murakami’s first novel reminds me of Americana literature, in the best way. Our narrator meanders through life, aimlessly - but briefly - interacting with an ensemble of unique characters. An enjoyable ennui, if you will.
Between the World and Me
by Ta-Nehisi Coates
Coates gives a scathing deconstruction of the American Dream and race in this startingly-concise book. His prose his razor sharp; his stories are heart-breaking; his critiques ring true. Each page packs a heavyweight punch. Coates masterfully juggles American history, appeals to violence and the self, and a justified pessimism towards the future. I agree with Toni Morrison: this is indeed required reading.
After Dark
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Jay Rubin
Another curiously unique Murakami piece. Instead of a grand narrative epic, we have the happenings of just one night in Tokyo. There’s a startingly different, but equally inquisitive omniscient-ish narrator. The tone and environment is masterfully set. Yet, as much as I loved the writing, I think the ending is a bit vague - even for a Murakami book. The narrative strings are just a little too loose to be intertwined. Still quite enjoyable, but not my most enthusiastic recommendation.
Dance Dance Dance
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Alfred Birnbaum
A unique Murakami piece. Even though it’s a “sequel” to A Wild Sheep Chase, the difference in tone and story direction is palpable. This is the most American our narrator gets - I can easily see why Murakami had fun writing this book. The prototypical Murakami protagonist is further developed, with a somewhat unique ensemble cast of supporting characters. The book is also more anti-capitalist than I expected! Mostly a strong recommend from me. I will say - not the largest fan of adults dating 13 year-old girls, even in literature - but maybe that’s just me.
After the Quake
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Jay Rubin
Another great set of short stories. I can’t say I’ll ever understand how devastating the Kobe earthquakes were. But, beyond that, each story has some deep sadness within it. Honestly, I thoroughly enjoyed each and every short story - but my favourites would have to be ‘super-frog saves tokyo’ and ‘honey pie’.
Sputnik Sweetheart
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Philip Gabriel
Murakami keeps the formula without making it too repetitive. Sputnik Sweetheart is a story about sweethearts, but not in the conventional blend of romantic fantasy or tension. Murakami mixes in his elements of surrealism, nihilism, and esoteric pop culture. K and Sumire are an especially memorable pair of characters, toeing the line of brazenly unique and easily relatable. Quite an enjoyable late-night read.
South of the Border, West of the Sun
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Philip Gabriel
Another rollercoaster romance novel from Murakami. I’ve definitely settled into his writing style and pattern, yet each new book is still a page-turner. South of the Border, West of the Sun mostly abandons the mystical to explore a damaged lonely man. The book manfiests most of Murakami’s archetypal characters, but still finds nuance in our protagonist. In some senses, this book reads very similarly to Norwegian Wood, but it also shines in its own way.
Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Alfred Birnbaum
It’s absolutely delightful reading another one of Murakami’s split-narrative stories; I can see the lead up to 1Q84 or Kafka in full technicolor. I also really the worlds that Murakami effortlessly juggles: a mundane protagonist, science fiction, detective thriller, and Kafkaesque surrealism have never looked better. The investigation of consciousness, mind, and identity are certainly intriguing. A definite recommendation on my end.
Men Without Women
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Philip Gabriel and Ted Goossen
As with The Elephant Vanishes, Murakami writes another enjoyable set of short stories. The overarching motif - men, who for some reason or another, are lonely and without women - is by no means new, but Murakami applies it in a very intriguing and exciting way. Still, short stories from Murakami always leave more to be desired - I want more exploration, more world-building, more twists and turns. And of course, the stories get a bit weird sometimes. I still enjoyed reading this compilation; Yesterday and Kino are definitely my favourites.
A Wild Sheep Chase
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Alfred Birnbaum
Working my way through the Murakami catalogue, I’m still in awe how innovative (and sometimes, just weird) each of his surrealist stories is. A Wild Sheep Chase is no exception: I was once again immediately transported to his slightly magical rendition of Japan, seamlessly exploring the world through the narrator’s eyes. Compared to some of his other works, I think this book is a bit more open-ended and tangled - in a charming, page-turning way.
Death at an Early Age
by Jonathan Kozol
Wow. Just wow. This book makes me angry. It is, truly, the classic indictment of inner-city education - beyond that, a cold hard look at the American public education system at large. Even though the events of this book precede the Voting Rights Act, the institutions that Kozol criticizes still continue to marginalize students 55 years later. Each chapter is a cycle of sobering insight, heartbreak, and rage against the system. An essential read for anybody looking to get into education.
Pedagogy of the Oppressed
by Paulo Freire | translated by Myra Bergman Ramos
To be fully honest, swathes of this book have went straight over my head: I’m a complete amateur when it comes to critical theory, let alone critical pedagogy. Yet still, I can clearly see the elements that make this a foundational, revolutionary text: Freire wastes no time nor space as he defines a new educational world order, one with inclusivity, cooperation, and empowerement at its core. Definitely a book that I’ll revisit in the future.
Poor Economics
by Abhijit V. Banerjee and Esther Duflo
This book is ultimately a manifesto for the work that Banerjee and Duflo (and to an extent, Michael Kremer) undertook that ultimately won them their Nobel prize: a granular, experimental approach to alleviating global poverty (especially with RCTs). I really enjoyed their systematic analysis of what causes poverty, and likely more importantly, their ability to admit that there is no silver bullet to fixing inequality. Definitely one of the first books I’d recommend to anybody looking to get into economics.
The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas
by Ursula K. Le Guin
I’ve discussed the premise of this short story for years on end, but I never actually got around reading the original piece that inspired it all. I’ve got to say, it’s a bit strange - but still, it packs a powerful moral punch, and the idea of a utility pump (or the survival lottery, on steroids) is one well worth considering.
Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Philip Gabriel
Murakami does it again, trapping me within the confines of his narrative world: I finished the entire book in just one night! Yet in Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki, Murakami isn’t exploring a surrealist or fantastical world: we follow a normal person - someone almost too mediocre - as they go through a muted mid-life crisis. There is a strong sense of intimacy as Murakami delves deep into pain, protection, and human psychology. I’m left feeling both introspectively pleased and depressed, in a light-and-dark sort of way - but certainly with colour.
1984
by George Orwell
George Orwell’s magnum opus is just as much of a page-turner on the fifth read as it is on the first. Throughout the years, I’ve always held this book in a special place in my heart: what Orwell has to say has profound impacts on how we view our past, how we live our present, and how we decide our future. So many things cement this book as a literary classic: its countless neologisms that have pervaded pop culture and political science, its genre-defining exploration of totalitarianism, imperialism, and power, and its commentary on the relationship between language, thought, and freedom. Excited to take it up again soon.
What Money Can't Buy
by Michael J. Sandel
This short and sweet book is a great exploration into the moral limits of markets. Sandel showcases the skill that made Justice so famous (and probably makes him a great professor, though I can’t comment firsthand on that): he clearly distills moral conundrums into separate and distinct philosophical issues, and tackles each of them in methodical but easily-understood steps. As he explored a set of personable (and sometimes, absolutely absurd) markets, I feel like I’ve come away with a better understanding of why some things shouldn’t be commodified. My only complaint is that this book isn’t longer.
Why Nations Fail
by Daron Acemoglu and James A. Robinson
One of the most influential economics books in the past decade. The most cited economist of the past 10 years. Possibly the most important question at the crossroads of political science and economics. Why Nations Fail pulls no punches as Acemoglu and Robinson explain their simple but crucial theory: that nations thrive from inclusive economic and political institutions, and fail by their extractive counterparts. They analyze nations throughout human history, starting with the Roman Empire and ending with the status quo and American neoimperialism; and in each case, they prove their mettle as award-winners in their field and reinforce the importance of inclusive institutions. At the end of the day, this has been one of the most comprehensive magnum opus-style books that I’ve read, and one that I’d wholeheartedly recommend to anybody.
Narrative Economics
by Robert J. Shiller
Robert Shiller conjures up a lens to examine the economic world through the idea of economics narratives: popular stories that have undue power over people, companies, and governments. I’m not sure if I’m fully ready to buy into narrative economics just yet, but he makes a solid case; Shiller comes equipped with the modern tools of data science and textual analysis to examine the most important economic stories of the West.
The Elephant Vanishes
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Alfred Birnbaum and Jay Rubin
The Elephant Vanishes is an intriguing set of short stories, combining seemingly banal life stories and environments with a deep dive into surrealism, loneliness, and trauma. As with most short story compilations, some stories hit harder than others, but every story was memorable in a very unique, Murakami way. Favourite stories are probably Sleep, Barn Burning, and The Silence.
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Jay Rubin
To many, this is Murakami’s magnum opus, and I wouldn’t disagree. From an extremely mundane and typical man and environment, Murakami conjures yet another fantastical story: one that touches on Japanese suburbia, war crimes in World War II, and a set of relationships set around existentialism and death. As magical as this book is, it’s definitely in the “odd reads” category; but still, it has my complete recommendation.
Norwegian Wood
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Jay Rubin
The novel that really shot Murakami into national and international fame is beautiful, nuanced, and emotional. Granted, I haven’t read many coming-of-age books, but Norwegian Wood is amazing regardless of genre: our protagonist’s journey is as much of a whirlwind as it is a slow burn, as the book explores the process of trauma and its long-lasting impacts on life.
Flowers for Algernon
by Daniel Keyes
For a book published in 1959 (and penned as a short story in 1958), Flowers for Algernon ages surprisingly well. We watch the transformation of a man who has been failed by society time and time again; it’s telling that this story could’ve been very well set in 2020, with little impact on its narrative. By far one of the tamest controversial banned books that I’ve ever read, and if anything, a great introspective short read for young adults.
Good Economics for Hard Times
by Abhijit V. Banerjee and Esther Duflo
Economics has the reputation of being the dismal science, with arcane (and often wrong) predictions and little statistical backing. The recent Nobel laureates do a great job of disproving that, showcasing what “Good Economics” really looks like: examining the world through an analytical lens, blending together innovations from statistics, mathematical modeling, and medicine to get a solid grasp on world phenomenon. Easily one of my favourite (~pop) economics books I’ve read.
The Stranger
by Albert Camus | translated by Matthew Ward
Camus’s brief tour into absurdist existentialism is as intriguing as it is concise. I won’t claim to fully understand all of the philosophical implications of this novel (I’d need a much better philosophy training for that), but I can clearly recognize why it’s immortalised as one of the best books ever written, period. My only regret is that I couldn’t read it in (my admittedly terrible) French.
Cloud Atlas
by David Mitchell
Cloud Atlas, no doubt, is a very unique book. David Mitchell seamlessly switches between narrative and historical styles to build dramatic, engaging worlds. I will say, I was less wowed by the fantastical journey through time than most - I think Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi still takes the cake for me in this genre - but nevertheless, it’s an amazing and special journey.
1Q84
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Jay Rubin and Philip Gabriel
Fresh off of Kafka on the Shore, I was motivated to binge some Murakami, and 1Q84 received a strong recommendation from a friend. Murakami dips you head-first into a truly entrancing literary universe, with amazingly elegant world-building and one of my favourite set of leads. Yet, I can’t also help but feel that the plot is a bit unfocused compared to his other, more concise books, and that the book gets… a little disturbing. Still, for fans of Murakami or surrealist fiction, I’d definitely recommend 1Q84.
how to
by Randall Munroe
I love xkcd, and I loved reading Randall Munroe’s previous book-length absurd scientific escapades in the form of “what if?” and “Thing Explainer”. “how to” is just another great book in this amazing series, and it’s a book that I think almost anybody would enjoy.
Open Borders
by Bryan Caplan
At ICYD 2016 (a debate competition in London), I watched some of the world’s best youth debaters argue over the concept of open borders. At the time (especially given the rise of anti-immigration sentiment in Europe), it seemed like a tough principle to advocate for, but Bryan Caplan does a pretty solid attempt at doing just that in Open Borders. I do think that the comic book medium is narratively interesting (and I love SMBC), but I think it might’ve hindered Caplan’s message just a bit - especially as he has less leeway to delve deep into rigorous economic experiments. And at the end of the day, many open borders arguments are in a “what if” limbo, but Caplan really does them justice.
Kafka on the Shore
by Haruki Murakami | translated by Philip Gabriel
Kafka on the Shore was my first Murakami venture, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The world that Murakami weaves is immaculate; I feel at home in a place that I’ve never been in. Kafka’s ensemble of characters bring just enough to the table to make every chapter a page-turner, but leave plenty to the imagination - and something that makes this coming-of-age story easily and eerily relatable.