Book Recommendations: October - Bumper Edition

Turns out I've read a lot this month (thanks to both the disappearance of the good weather and thus large parts of my social life, and taking a break from social media), so I couldn't choose just one book for either category. I hope you enjoy this bumper edition of recommendations: three fiction books, three non-fiction, and three podcasts/episodes.

Fiction

Nick Hornby, About a Boy

Life was, after all, like air. Will could have no doubt about that any more. There seemed to be no way of keeping it out, or at a distance, and all he could do for the moment was live it and breathe it. How people managed to draw it down into their lungs without choking was a mystery to him: it was full of bits. This was air you could almost chew.

This novel is simultaneously warm, amusing, poignant, and just a little bit repulsive. The characters are fully-formed but not-quite-admirable, contributing to the narrative's vivid reflection of reality. The narration is matter-of-fact and unashamedly unfiltered; although it is in third person, we see the world of the novel as each protagonist does, events are relayed through their psyche.

One of the two protagonists, Will, is someone who has always positioned himself slightly outside 'life'. It is funny to see his insights into the world, often cynical and self-interested, alongside the narration of a child, Marcus (the other protagonist). This juxtaposition of such differing personas creates a sense of balance, and I think is in part the reason for the innocent harmony in their relationship with each other.

Hornby has a talent for capturing and depicting so perfectly characters who are interesting if only for their absurd blandness (in a good way). Making the bland interesting is, I think, the mark of a great writer. Hornby is someone who can reflect the mundanity of real life, but make it compelling to read about, even as you see the less-than-glamorous parts of your own life reflected in it.

This is a book about the 'bits' of life. The unattractive, uncharismatic bits that are less often the focus of works of literature, but that in fact make up the body of the everyday for so many of us.

Dolly Alderton, Ghosts

I treated myself to a pre-order of the hardback of Dolly's long-awaited debut novel. She is author of one of my all-time favourite books Everything I Know About Love, which is her memoir. Ghosts did not disappoint, I gobbled it up in about three days, being left with that all too familiar slightly empty feeling of getting to the end of a really good book. It follows the protagonist, Nina George Dean, as she navigates her 32nd year: the peculiar world of online dating, morphing friendships, and an increasingly tumultuous relationship with her parents.

There are many ghosts in this story, from those of past friendships and relationships, to the ghosts of memory and forgetting as Nina's dad suffers from dementia, to the more literal 'ghosting' found in the world of online dating, among others. Dolly's highly observant and down-to-earth writing style lends itself to these topics with sensitivity, and she intertwines them fluently with moments of social and political critique.

At risk of repeating the many glowing reviews which litter the cover sleeve of the book: Ghosts is both sensitive and funny. Dolly succeeds in capturing many of the inconsistencies of contemporary dating and general life-stuff: the mess of the everyday for the millennial generation.

While Everything I Know About Love was a glowing manifesto for the strength of female friendship, the more mature Ghosts is reserved, and in places cynical, about its reality. Ultimately though, friendship is the guiding force of the novel. Dolly recognises and explores the ways that friendships are tested and change as we grow older and reach life's milestones at different speeds. Ghosts in many ways reflects the painful uncertainty of the modern world, but one thing I can be sure of is that I will be sure to return to this book again someday.

James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

I am always wary of my own headspace when I commit myself to reading a classic, as so often I have found myself mentally sifting through dense prose, trying desperately to see the value for which the book has been lauded. With some classics, I'll admit that I've struggled to identify with the reason for its position in the canon.

I wanted to mention Giovanni's Room, however, as it is truly captivating. From the beginning, the artistry of the language is clearly apparent; yet, this doesn't come at the expense of its accessibility. Short and easy to read, I would very much recommend this if you want to delve into a notable classic by a prolific author such as Baldwin.

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Non-Fiction

Zadie Smith, Feel Free

Zadie Smith truly has a way with words; anyone who knows me well will know that I already think this. This was my first adventure into her non-fiction work, and I wasn't sure what to expect, but I'm now even more in awe of her as a writer. I didn't like every essay - some were about books or artwork that I had never heard of - but the ones I did like I absolutely adored. She writes with authority and grace, so that her reader (i.e. me) is compelled to take any opinion she states as fact.

Even her non-fiction is written with a flow to it that likens it to a narrative in style. She zooms in on the minutiae of a one-second interaction, and smoothly out again to the collective culture of an entire city or country. Her comparison of writing to dance ("Dance Lessons for Writers"), an essay reflecting on technology entitled "Generation Why", and another called "Elegy for a Country's Seasons", were among my favourites. If I am even a little bit as observant or wise about the world as Zadie Smith is when I have reached her age, then I will be happy.

Robert MacFarlane, Landmarks

The contours and colours of words are inseparable from the feelings we create in relation to situations, to others and to places. (25-6)

I am only 50 pages into this at the time of writing, but I knew from the introduction that I loved it. I have been fascinated for a while about how language is used to craft the world around us, and how physical place is reflected in language. Robert MacFarlane explores this with an intoxicating lucidity. He explores the idea that language can create a two-way conversation between human and non-human. Nature contains history and potential, and we are constantly in interaction with, upon, and around it.

I first came across this idea when I learnt about how many Aboriginal Australian languages are embedded in place; each language is built from the land around it, and reflects that land with specificity. This is one reason for the linguistic and cultural diversity of First Nations Australians; the linguistic diversity directly reflects the ecological diversity as different nations occupy vastly different areas of land. (This is a diversity that is struggling today due to centuries of colonial violence, but that is an article for another day).

Our language for nature is now such that the things around us do not talk back to us in ways that they might. As we have enhanced our power to determine nature, so we have rendered it less able to converse with us. We find it hard to imagine nature outside a use-value framework. We have become experts in analysing what nature can do for us, but lack a language to evoke what it can do to us. (25)

I love this idea of an affinity between language and land. It made me realise, as MacFarlane also explores, that Western languages are becoming more disconnected from the landscape as our lifestyles become increasingly centred around the man-made and the virtual.

Increasingly, our capitalistic relation with nature focuses on human dominance, extraction, and exploitation, subverting the possible harmony that has been previously attained. This attitude is reflected in our language; as MacFarlane discusses, many words relating to nature have been removed from children's dictionaries in favour of those that reflect the digital world (3).

Reconnecting with this omnipresent environment that we could not live without, and which we are rapidly destroying (yes I did watch A Life on Our Planet this week), seems essential to building a more sustainable world.

I am excited to continue this book and read of MacFarlane's framework for reigniting our linguistic connection with landscape, something which I want to evoke more often in my daily life.

Otegha Uwagba, The Little Black Book: A Toolkit for Working Women

As I begin my (possible) career in the world of freelance work and writing, this book came into my life at the right time. It might be underestimated: as its name suggests, it is small, and unassumingly pink, and it is one of those coffee table books sold in Urban Outfitters. Yet, Otegha Uwagba provides invaluable advice throughout, whether it's to do with managing your money and never underselling yourself, or overcoming creative blocks. At the end of the book, she compiles quotes and career advice from popular figures in the industry, including Pandora Sykes and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, both of whom I look up to greatly.

Uwagba communicates through her advice that while freelance work is often desirable and appealing in many ways, it is not a walk in the park. However, armed with this book, it appears that little bit easier. Uwagba's tone is conversational and matter-of-fact, and you can see how she has become such a successful writer and journalist through her clear ability to balance the practical alongside the creative. I will try and keep this by my side as I navigate this new world of work.

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Podcasts

About Race with Reni Eddo-Lodge

I am a bit late to the game, but I recently discovered this gem of a podcast by Reni Eddo-Lodge, author of the renowned Why I'm No Longer Talking to White People About Race. Released in 2018, the podcast bases itself around much the same premise of the book (except, Eddo-Lodge is most certainly talking to white people about race here). I love this, like I loved the book, for its specificity in exploration around British issues of race, something which is still so easily brushed under the carpet in the face of the US's much more explicit and documented history of racial tension.

Eddo-Lodge invites a diverse range of interesting and well-educated guests on to explore each theme with her, from musician Billy Bragg, to the columnist and author Owen Jones, and the rapper, journalist and author of Natives, Akala. Each topic is well-researched and discussed which nuance, clarity, and sensitivity.

I would highly recommend this for anyone wanting to become more aware of Britain's continuing history of racial prejudice, and how different forms of media narratives, in relation to both blackness and whiteness, have been weaponised within this. If books aren't much your thing (or even if they are), this is a valuable tool in educating yourself about continued racial injustice, and thus in the fight against it.

Dissect Podcast, Season 7: Childish Gambino's Because the Internet

I've never formally studied it, or even played so much as one instrument to any recognised level/grade, but music is a huge part of my daily life, and a large determiner of my mood. I am so interested in the way music reflects on social issues, and even how it contributes towards political discourse and social justice movements.

I began my journey with the Dissect podcast with its previous season, which examined Beyonce's Lemonade. It captivated me and I grew to appreciate the visual album even more for the artistry, thought, and social critique that went into it.

Dissect dives deeply into the music, describing itself as 'longform musical analysis', and devoting a 30-45 minute episode to each song in an album. Season 7 is still in the process of being released, but so far Dissect has already outdone itself. I have so enjoyed learning more about the ways that the album reflects Gambino's personal life, journey as an artist, and the social and political climate that it was composed in.

Dissect gives equal weight to zooming in on the minute details of a song - that one section of percussion behind the main melody - and zooming out to the bigger picture of its influences and impact, and this I love.

I am once again coming to appreciate the sheer artistry and intricate thought that goes into making an album, and learning so much in the process. Songs, artists, and albums that have been among my favourites for a long time are developing a new layer of meaning thanks to Dissect. If you're into music but don't often pause to consider the details of it (and would like to), I highly recommend this podcast.

The Guilty Feminist, Episode 221: 'Making Money Matter'

I have loved The Guilty Feminist for a very long time; it delivers laugh-out-loud comedy alongside rousing feminist thought and truly inspirational guests. This episode particularly caught my attention, and I feel as though I should reiterate its message to anyone who reads this, as it is so important.

Many of us feel a sort of inertia around the struggle to exert real change in the face of climate disaster, but this episode demonstrated that there are real things we can do to make a difference, we just have to be aware of them. The episode centred around the idea that women are less frequently taught how to manage their own money, and some really great conversation took place.

What I want to focus on, however, is the words of guests Emma Howard Brooks and Henna Shah. Their focus was on how we can make a real difference to the climate by being assertive with where our money is put. When our employer puts money into a pension for us, it is invested. For most people, these investments automatically fall into fossil fuel or tobacco industries. This is a tradition which has got us into the crisis we are in today, and something that clearly needs to change.

This is our money, and we have the power to ask for it to be invested differently. Just making this request, they say, can have more of an impact on the push for greener solutions, than going vegan (so all the more reason to do both). Asking for money to be put into industries that champion renewable energy not only allows them to expand and generate more revenue, but also creates a real-life demand for this, thus presenting the case for yet more investment.

Governments and corporations need to step up, and this is one way to show them that we won't settle for anything else. The future must be green, and when I have a pension fund myself, I will make sure my money is invested in building this. Otherwise, we are paying not into security and safety, but into the destruction of our future.