The Premonitions Bureau: A True Account of Death Foretold, by Sam Knight

Traces the efforts of a psychiatrist who (in cooperation with a journalist) attempted to collect premonitions of disaster, that they might be recorded, verified, and quantified. Of those, the vast majority came to nothing but a couple of “superstar” prophets seemed able to repeatedly foresee accidents like plane crashes. The book spends a lot more time digging into the personalities involved, as well as the science of psychology at the time, than the “bureau” itself… but to be fair the project did eventually fizzle out without causing much lasting change, so without those asides the book would be a lot shorter.

Bitch: On the Female of the Species, by Lucy Cooke

This was such a delightful book, full of fascinating science and history. Ever since Charles Darwin cherrypicked his data to suit Victorian sensibilities about gender roles, schools teach that the female of any species is generally a meek, nurturing caretaker while the male gads about hunting, fighting, and flaunting bright plumage. Cooke goes into the field with many different scientists to observe the many ways that creatures in nature defy this theory, and also digs into the science to show that general assumptions made by observing limited species are far from universal. The content sounds dry, but Cooke’s writing style is super enjoyable. Really great read.

Wintering: the Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, by Katherine May

As the author struggles with an emotional “winter” in her life, she finds ways to recover her equilibrium by observing how cold-weather cultures deal with the gray chill of wintertime. I found this book a little hard to get into; as a lifelong fan of wintertime and winter activities, I struggled with equating the season to a down emotional time. However, I can see the benefit of this book for people who a) find it hard to take time for themselves, and b) people who don’t know how to handle winter chill.

Word by Word: the Secret Life of Dictionaries, by Kory Stamper

Lexicographers, says the author firmly, are the neutral reporters of how language is used, not the arbiters of what correct language entails. Stamper goes into extreme detail about how dictionary definitions come about, from word origins to parts of speech to pronunciation, punctuated by sparkling humor and amusing behind-the-scenes anecdotes of dictionary creation at Merriam-Webster. The heart of this book is Stamper’s deep love of the English language, and her constant nerdy delight keeps everything moving.

Allow Me to Retort: A Black Guy’s Guide to the Constitution, by Elie Mystal

Mystal’s take on the Constitution of the United States is essentially this: it was written by white male supremacists interested in codifying white male supremacy, and then interpreted and enforced by further white male supremacists interested in retaining said supremacy; this has continued right up through to the current day, with only occasional hard-fought moments of relief. He backs this up with quotations, facts from the historical record, and examples from current events. Mystal does not spare liberals either, excoriating them for working within a system designed to promote inequality, instead of fixing the racist foundations. His tone is educated, snarky, occasionally profane, and incredibly readable; the only reason I couldn’t devour this in one go is because there is only so much rage I can handle (and corroborating examples from the news) before I need to give my brain a break.

In a Sunburned Country, by Bill Bryson

Conveniently available on my gracious hosts’ bookshelf, this is Bryson’s travelogue through Australia and a constant delight to read. Bryson mixes keen observation of Australia’s unique biology, geology, and cultures with fascinating snippets of history and science, leaving the reader fascinated and enthralled. There were so many bits of this book that I loved and had to share immediately with whoever was around me. Great book, great insights.

How the Word Is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America, by Clint Smith

I cannot tell you how good this book was. Smith dives deeply into plantations, memorials, cemeteries, prisons, and his own family oral history; he gathers viewpoints directly from docents and other visitors, and lets their words stand next to what facts can be gleaned from the historical record. He talks with people who have set ideas on what their history is, and with those who are still open to learning more; he interrogates the stories that Americans tell themselves about their shared history, and where those stories originated (very often as propaganda). He wanders through the American landscape as if it’s a crime scene, which it very much is; not only were horrific crimes committed here against so many, but the crime against Black America is still unfolding, and the weight of it affects everything we do and defines who we are. The narration is often punctuated by piercing insights, and the prose is just beautiful. Truly amazing portrait of how far we’ve come, where we are now, and how far we have yet to go in reckoning with the impact of slavery in America.

Four Lost Cities: A Secret History of the Urban Age, by Annalee Newitz

This was fantastic! Newitz studies four cities from previous civilizations (Çatalhöyük in Central Turkey, Pompeii in Italy, Angkor in Cambodia, and Cahokia in the US) and uses archaeologists’ findings to bring them to life with incredibly vivid detail, describing both the inhabitants’ everyday existence as well as their social and cultural dynamics. She explores the rise and growth of the cities as well as their decline for various reasons; although all these cities now lie buried, she still finds lessons in their existence. I love how she finds both warning and celebration in the ruins: yes, communities can rise and fall, but look how beautifully we built something together. 

Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott

Lamott’s advice to her creative writing students, gathered in book form. Written with attitude, but also with heart and kindness; Lamott endorses writing as a kind of therapy, encouraging her students to explore their pasts and their fears, and mine those experiences for inspiration. She also warns students to temper their expectations regarding glamor or fame in publishing. Warm and self-deprecating in tone and very enjoyable to read, but mostly it’s Lamott talking about herself and her experiences, only thinly disguised as advice to new writers.

Pandora’s Jar: Women in the Greek Myths, by Natalie Haynes

Incredibly enjoyable deep dive into Greek mythology, with the overtly stated goal of returning women to the fore. As the Greek myths have passed down to us filtered through the eyes of generations of male Western classicists, female characters like Pandora, Helen, Clytemnestra, and Medea have been reduced to paper thin one-liners: disobedient child, mute beauty, bad wife, bad mother. Meanwhile the men get to be the stars, with the women little more than character development notes in their journeys. Haynes brings an indignantly feminist viewpoint and a wealth of knowledge of the original sources, quoting Euripides as well as other playwrights and poets to mine out meaning and depth for the female characters that had gotten lost (one might even say deliberately papered-over) along the way.