As the weather cools off, there’s nothing cozier than curling up on the sofa with a good book. For recommendations, KCRW turns to Boris Kachka, books editor for the LA Times, and Joumana Khatib, editor at the New York Times Book Review.
Kachka’s picks:
How I Won a Nobel Prize by Julius Taranto
Taranto’s first-ever novel follows Helen, a physics graduate student who learns that her advisor is mired in a sex scandal. She follows him to a controversial university where other disgraced academics have gone.
“It answers the question: What if there were a university just for canceled people? … It's a very good satire, especially for a debut writer, especially for a male lawyer, writing in the voice of a woman. It's a high degree of difficulty. And it bites into a lot of meaty subjects that we're always arguing about and yelling about on both sides. But it's not a down-the-middle-of-the-road kind of satire, either. Essentially, the original title was ‘The Offset.’ And ultimately, that's what Helen has to cope with. … If you weigh your actions, what's enough of an offset? How much good you do in the world versus how much bad you do in the world?”
How to Say Babylon by Safiya Sinclair
This memoir is often compared to Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime. Sinclair writes about her dad, a strict Rastafarian who worried about “Babylon,” the idea of being corrupted by the Western world. He was particularly concerned about his daughters being “pure,” and believed that obedience was the most important virtue for women.
“What [How to Say Babylon] does is two things at the same time for me as a reader. One is that it's beautifully written. It's evocative of a place I don't know. It makes me feel that I, especially by the end of the book, know these people.
And the second thing is that it changes my point of view on something that I thought I knew a little bit about … the Rastafari faith. She's raised by two very devoted members of the Rastafari faith, both of whom left families that were stifling them. And so to them, this is a rebellion that they're participating in. And of course, the Rastafari faith is kind of positioned against the man, the British occupier, the colonists, but what she experiences over the years is another kind of oppression, but at the same time, you see the bright things about her life.”
Let Us Descend by Jesmyn Ward
In this novel, a white slave owner becomes the father of the protagonist, Annis, then sells her to a slave market in New Orleans. For comfort, she turns to memories of her mom and stories of her grandma. She also embraces the world of spirituality.
“It is inspired by Dante's Inferno quite explicitly. The reason to read it is her writing. These comparisons can be glib, but I can't not think about Toni Morrison when I read her work — just the casual brilliance and lyricism of the language. That nothing ever feels forced, even if it's otherworldly and poetic. And the way she makes you feel the grain of every moment of joy and suffering. And then the other element that I've really found interesting that she adds to it — that I haven't seen so much in her work before — is these spirits that come and guide her. Again, there's a little bit of Dante's influence there, but they're described as these kinds of spirits that sometimes fight against each other and can be confused.”
Khatib’s picks:
Day by Michael Cunningham
This novel shows how a seemingly blissful family breaks down during the COVID pandemic. The book unfolds over the course of three days over three years. Then in April 2021, they must grapple with their lessons, losses, and what the future might look like.
“I was like, I'm not ready for pandemic fiction. I don't think I'm ever going to be ready for pandemic fiction. And here we have Michael Cunningham, making me eat my words in a very thoughtful and poignant way. … When I was starting to brace myself for pandemic fiction, I was thinking, ‘This is gonna be almost claustrophobic, right?’ And I was like, ‘I don't want to read that in fiction. Fiction should be expansive, right? It should make you feel that your consciousness is bigger.’ … Even in the moments when Cunningham is moving from pre-pandemic, to pandemic, yes, there you feel that sense of compression. Everybody is homebound. Everybody's in the brownstone. Everybody's under foot. But he's still able to find some expansion and grace. It's like you play cat's cradle, you've got the thread between your fingers. You pull your hands apart, and you see these amazing connections that maybe you wouldn't have seen otherwise.”
The Hungry Season by Lisa Hamilton
Hamilton has photographed and written about agriculture and rural communities around the world. In this latest nonfiction, she focuses on
Ia Moua, a Hmong woman who escapes political violence in Laos by going to a refugee camp in Thailand, then California’s San Joaquin Valley. She ultimately creates a booming business by growing and selling rice.
“She takes $100 and she buys 10 rows of cropland in the Central Valley. And she wants to plant a specific type of rice that's very meaningful to her community. And then before we know it, she's managed to turn this into a bit of an empire. She's got nine acres, so many people from her community that find meaning in this.
… We as readers really benefit from Hamilton's also being a photographer, because she has an incredible eye for stuff. The rice actually comes alive.”
The Future Future by Adam Thirlwell
In this humorous historical fiction, Celine lives in an 18th-century world ruled by men. Her husband and parents aren’t there for her. Men are spreading lies about her sexuality and addictions.
“The plot is not the reason to read this book. It really has that feeling of David Lynch almost. Laura Dern would be playing Celine in the film adaptation. It's very funny. It jumps around between registers and historical time periods. At one point, she ends up on the moon — when I tell you that that's not even a spoiler — I think you'll get a sense of what kind of book this is.”