From the National Parks, Back in Time, and Out to Space: Three Books that Defined My 2018 in Reading
With the start of each New Year, one of my resolutions involves my reading habits. 2018 was no different. I resolved to read a book each week and surpassed my goal by reading 59 books before 2019. While there was much mental fortitude in choosing books, it was also work to meet my goal. Not only did I have to schedule time throughout my week for reading, but I also had to make books as much a necessity to keep with me as my keys and cell phone.
People often ask me how I choose my books (which I’ve hinted at on my 2017 reading list blog). Essentially, some books are recommended by friends or colleagues, while others are from an author or subject I appreciate and just want to delve into. I’m a library professional, too, and I encounter books all day. I notice what is circulating, and sometimes I just impulsively check them out. Having this broad challenge allowed me to explore a wide variety of materials and genres. When choosing books for 2018, I generally decided upon innovative stories or subjects. I read graphic novels for fun, non-fiction that covered more obscure topics, and my fiction choices were generally not written by males and/or white authors. So, in three books, here is a microcosm of my 2018 in reading:
The One That Changed Me: One Square Inch of Silence by Gordon Hempton
A few years back, after spending my spring and summer weekends hiking, I wrote a blog about the need to find one’s ”Wild Space” (space to reflect and get away to maintain balance of work/leisure). Since then, I’ve been reading up on the science on humans’ physiological need for nature. I first learned about One Square Inch of Silence when reading The Nature Fix by Florence Williams in 2017. One Square Inch of Silence is an acoustic ecologist’s effort to understand and track noise pollution in our everyday lives. In particular, Hempton looks at the National Park System as a place designed for serenity and how it’s become anything but given both the air traffic that flies overhead and the noise created by tour buses and helicopters. Like any good scientist, Hempton does not simply gather data but takes his findings and advocates. Throughout the book he meets individuals from all walks of life, speaking out about the negative effects that external sounds have upon appreciation of the natural world. Since reading this book, I have found myself more mindful of sound, both that which I create as well all that is around me. I even have an app, DecibelX Pro, that allows me to take sound readings on my smartphone. Observing just how loud some of the sounds are in the everyday life in comparison to how quiet some of my isolated hikes really are affirms that my “Wild Space” is also my “Quiet Space.” While this may seem like a niche subject, recognizing that certain situations in one’s everyday life can ultimately be harmful to one’s hearing has helped me to take a more holistic approach. I observe the world far more with my ears than I ever have before.
The One That Showed Me Something New: The Girls by Emma Cline
Historical fiction is a genre I am only beginning to appreciate. I’ve always been drawn to non-fiction, maybe because it’s “the facts.” But as I grow older, I recognize the themes historical fiction hopes to evoke are commentary to our contemporary state of affairs. Not to be anachronistic, it’s interesting to consider through historical fiction how far we have (or haven’t) come as a society. Historical fiction uses the gift of storytelling to embrace the tension of how much we’ve progressed versus how much we remain the same.
The first required historical fiction in high school was The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone. While I didn’t enjoy the book at the time, I can now appreciate its desire to explore the tensions of artistic expression with religious zeal and piety. The Girls provided a very similar experience for me, one of balancing tensions. The novel is a thinly-veiled retelling of the Manson Family Murders, told through the eyes of a woman in the present day reflecting on her experience as a rebellious teen with her adopted “family” of Russell (the Charles Manson character). Throughout the story, Cline’s feminist voice explores bigger questions about power dynamics and gender roles within one of the most shocking events in history, and the greater rationale and motive behind the murders. While I don’t know much about the Manson Family Murders, what little I have seen generally focuses on Manson himself. Through storytelling rather than journalism, however, Cline expresses how systemic and pervasive sexism contributed to “The Girls” desiring alternatives from societal norms. By embracing Russell’s philosophy as alternative to societal repression and disempowerment of females, they were willing to obey his orders, even to commit murder to prove their loyalty. Since reading The Girls, I’ve begun to research other historical fiction and look forward to delving into it more fully in the future. While I still like facts, having the beauty of imagery and character development through storytelling adds that little bit of extra joy to the reading experience.
The One That Was Just Plain Fun: The Saga series by Brian Vaughan
I call graphic novels the Netflix of reading. Sure, I’ve read some with a serious subject matter (Fun Home, Maus, etc.), but graphic novels are generally my light entertainment to enjoy before bed, intentionally getting off-screen. Of the graphic novels I read in 2018, Saga was my favorite. The series tells the story of two lovers from warring planets who are on the lam around the galaxy as they work to maintain their relationship and raise their daughter. Unlike the average comic book, Vaughan provides character depth not only to the protagonists but also to supporting characters, including the various individuals and groups chasing them around the galaxy. The story is complex, but the pacing is fast enough that the reader never forgets the subplots. Its use of profound illustrations is what ultimately separates it from the average novel. There is a sense of whimsy reminiscent of old comic book series but the adult material and raunchy tone shows its intended audience. With this contrast as a foundation, Saga’s themes are mainstream. Though it is set in imaginary planets in far-off space, it’s a subtle satire on American life, particularly in our simultaneous obsession with war and the individual self. While my takeaway from this genre is not as pronounced as the ones mentioned above, Saga nonetheless serves its purpose as cathartic enjoyment, reading as escapism from the travails of the everyday.
As I reflect back on 2018’s reading, I truly am in awe of the breadth and depth in what was covered. It compelled me to action in some ways, led me to thoughtful reflection in others, and always brought a smile to my face in what I explored.
A month into 2019, I am excited about what I’ve already experienced in this year’s challenge. Energized by the habits I developed in 2018, I will continue with the book a week, but I’ve added a caveat. The books per week will all be novels or non-fiction books of some length (no less than 200 pages). Graphic novels will continue to be on my reading list, but they will be in their own reading category, and as such my reading goal is 75 books/graphic novels total. This year, besides the challenge of more than a book a week, my goal is to alternate between rock n’ roll memoirs for pleasure with reading science-fiction, a genre of which I have never done a deep dive. While I am grateful for 2018 in helping me hone my habits, I am using 2019 as a means to more fully hone my focus on a particular subject. While I continue to grow in my knowledge from the books, I also recognize reading as a discipline and will respond in-kind. And now off to pull another from my shelf..
