Almanacs are an anomaly in the 2021 literary landscape, a choose-your-own adventure of print culture. So much of reading, especially online, is about seeking: looking for a fact, an image, a bit of information. With almanacs, the information finds us, drawing our attention to whatever it has deemed attention-worthy that year, whether worm moons or split pea soup recipes.
Sometimes I feel like the only one of my kind, by which I’m not trying to imply that my love of the French language is unique or special. (For one thing, French isn’t exactly a little-known language.) But there are times when I can’t help wondering if this is what the last speaker of a language must feel, the loneliness that comes from knowing that there is no one to answer you in your language—or, in my case, the language I chose for myself.
Socially conscious (the #MeToo movement makes a decisive entrance into the plot) and packed with humor, ghosts and narrative turns of the screw, Lippman’s “Dream Girl” is indeed a dream of a novel for suspense lovers and fans of literary satire alike.
Gleichman and Blackett are trying to make a lot of points: about gender disparities in the workplace; about corporate responsibility; about gentrification. About insidious male toxicity and queer representation. That’s enough for several books, and some plotlines feel rushed, or like too much of a stretch.
But the novel’s witticisms and smart takes help it shine, and its empathetic commentary on grief humanizes it.
Taddeo’s prose glitters with all the dark wit and flashes of insight that readers and critics admired in Three Women, and she is especially sharp on the ways in which women perform for one another. Like Coel’s I May Destroy You, Animal is unafraid to wrestle with big questions about sexual empowerment and consent, and doesn’t pretend to have found neat answers.
At a glance, “This Is Your Mind on Plants” is a book focused on three substances with psychoactive properties: caffeine, opium and mescaline. But far beyond providing a detailed, living history for each of these three compounds, Pollan takes things a bold step further by placing himself into a narrative that often demands he consume some himself.
Ken Bernstein’S new book, Preserving Los Angeles: How Historic Places Can Transform America’s Cities, contends that protecting Los Angeles’s architectural and cultural history is vital, and he details with pride the city’s determined efforts at preservation. The city, however, was built imperfectly, in imperfect times, and thus continually stumbles as it tries to reinvent itself in fits and starts. So observes Josh Stephens in his new book, The Urban Mystique: Notes on California, Los Angeles, and Beyond, a collection of his insightful planning and development essays. History as rendered in landmarks interests him less than the human experience, which he feels defines a city.