That is going to change in 2013.
Why? Well, to start, I have a whole list of book recommendations, an injection of hot tea and lemon for the ailing literary nerd's soul. 2012 has been a humdinger of a year for books, with delightful new additions to genres far and wide. I've also been far and wide in 2012, landing back in the Bay Area after four years of nomadic wandering. As my 94-year-old grandmother says every time she sees me, "You are back where you belong." If both travel and teaching have taught me anything, it is that there are many ways to belong, and that life works a lot better when you can find as many of those ways as possible.
So, in honor of my grandmother, who has seen more of life than anyone I know, I'm hereby declaring 2013 "The Year of Belonging In More Ways Than One." As the new year dawns, may you find yourself ever rooted in belonging. I, for one, am grateful beyond measure for the sense of belonging you bring me by reading these words and (with any luck!) discovering profound enjoyment from the following books. (As always, this annual odyssey recounts the month I read the book, not when it was released.)
January--Cleopatra, a Life by Stacy Stiff
Cleopatra VII of Egypt is someone we've all heard of and know nothing about. Was she really a snake-wielding femme fatale, lover of Julius Caeser, downfall of Mark Antony, who sold the independence of her kingdom for misguided passion? Not surprisingly, the historical record, putty in Schiff's masterful hands, tells quite a different story, both about Cleopatra's physical appearance (she was much more charismatic than hot) and the way she led Egypt through the sad inevitability of Roman rule. What stayed with me throughout 2012 was the lasting sense of how brightly historical inaccuracy can shine through the dim fog of time and how aptly Schiff shifted my perspective. So much of what we think we know about Cleopatra is wrong (and it's not exclusively Shakespeare's fault), yet the truth is equally dysfunctional and captivating.
February--The King's Gold (and all the Captain Alatriste books, starting with Captain Alatriste) by Arturo Perez-Reverte
Run--don't walk--to your book vendor of choice and check out this wonderful series by Arturo Perez-Reverte. The author's name may ring a bell. He won some fame about 10 years ago for his intricate literary thriller The Club Dumas. While ably done, The Club Dumas doesn't hold a candle to Reverte's swashbuckling tales featuring Captain Alatriste, a rough-hewn Spanish soldier with a heart of gold, and his faithful sidekick/surrogate son Inigo. The adventure novel is falling out of favor (oh, but why?), yet Reverte keeps it alive and kicking in these sparkling gems of the genre. There are villains, beautiful, faithless ladies, crooked clerics, bold thieves, innocent pawns and, of course, the Spanish Inquisition. Set in the fading days of 17th century Iberian glory, Captain Alatriste holds honor dearer than fame or gold, and so will you after just a few chapters.
March--Stiff: The Curious Life of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach (along with Spook: Science Takes on the Afterlife and anything else you can find by Mary Roach)
Dedicate your body to science these days, and you could end up in a lot more places than a medical school lab table. Mary Roach traces the 2,000-year history of how we've put human cadavers to work, from testing seat belts and weapons to solving crimes. With a perfect mix of humor and respect, her expert reporting also spotlights the people through the ages who have defied taboo to learn from the dead. Roach, known for her quirky subjects, is laugh-out-loud funny but never glib. I was most moved by a chapter about an anatomy course at UCSF medical school where students hold a memorial service to celebrate the lives of those whose bodies aid in the training of future healers.
April--The Outlaw Sea: a World of Freedom, Chaos and Crime by William Langewieche (Also highly recommended by this author: Sahara Unveiled)
Anarchy reigns on the open seas, and anyone who wants a peek into the darkest corner of lawless commerce on the planet need look no further than Langewieche's book. The huge container ships we see docked at ports near home are likely floating death traps, sold down the supply chain from sparsely regulated European and American companies to never-regulated operations registered in nations where a few thousand dollars can buy any safety inspector's stamp. In addition to the hazard to human life and the environment (these ships, huge as they are, can literally break apart and disappear without a trace in a northern Pacific storm), container vessels shuttle cargo from port to port at a volume that is impossible for even the most vigilant country to oversee. It is estimated that only 2% of all containers are even opened for inspection worldwide, and most for just a cursory glance. Langeweiche's reporting tracks ships from the building yard to the polluted beaches of southeast Asia where they are finally run aground and dismantled by hand by some of the world's most impoverished workers. This stark investigation of the reality--and freedom--of the open seas will change the way you look at those tankers bobbing picturesquely in the Bay.
May--Inventing English: A Portable History of the Language by Seth Lerer
Books about the English language always get my literary nerd's heart pumping. Lerer's masterpiece on the evolution of our fascinating tongue has been out for awhile but was recently released on Kindle. Needless to say, I gobbled it right up, and it proved the best book I've read (and I've read more than my share) to explain why English spelling is so screwy (blame Old Norse!) and how the Great Vowel Shift means that modern Americans sound more like Shakespeare than any current resident of Stratford-upon-Avon. Long on fun facts and short on esoteric explanations of consonant clusters (though there are a few of those too), Inventing English is an excellent starter book for anyone who wants to learn more about the world's lingua franca.
June--Redshirts: A Novel with Three Codas by Jon Scalzi
This year's science fiction offering is not for everyone. But it should be! A send-up of television space dramas (Star Trek in particular), it features denizens of a starship where ordinary crew members (uniformed in red) have noticed a disturbing trend: anyone who goes on a mission with a ranking officer is inevitably killed in the most grizzly way possible while the officer survives regardless of the odds. In an effort to save his skin, Ensign Andrew Dahl and a group of fellow "red shirts" go in search of a legendary crew member who, it is rumored, holds the key to unlocking the mystery and stopping the carnage. This story contains both "meta" and "physics" but never together. Instead, Scalzi's writing is accessible and highly entertaining, even as he sends his characters on a inter-dimensional adventure through time, space and Burbank, California. I maintain that anyone will appreciate both the fast-paced prose and sardonic, well-written characters who would be more at home on an episode of Seinfeld than Deep Space Nine. But don't take my word for it: check it out for yourself.
July--The Violinist's Thumb and Other Tales of Love, War and Genius as Written in Our Genetic Code by Sam Kean
Sam Kean wrote The Disappearing Spoon, surely the best book ever written about the periodic table of elements. He's back with a similarly far-ranging and readable look at the history of DNA and our search to understand why we look and act the way we do. Kean starts the journey with a personal, ethical and practical discussion about DNA testing, then takes us on a romp through the history of DNA discovery and various genetic mutations, both amusing (ever wonder why some people seem a little too attached to their cats?) and grim. Kean is never one to pull his punches when commenting on historic events, and his quick-witted take on scientific personalities is a highlight of this book. Those put off by flashbacks of high school chemistry brought on by The Disappearing Spoon may find this book less intimidating but no less entertaining.
August--The Dog Stars by Peter Heller
If novelists mine the undercurrents of our culture, bringing to light truths that are hidden within the seams of daily life, then there are a lot of people out there with Armageddon on their minds. The Dog Stars is the latest entry in the booming sub genre of literary post-apocalyptic fiction, following the likes of The Road and The Age of Miracles up the bestseller list. While Heller's first novel is less grim than some, early reviews that hailed it as an "uplifting" view of the End of Days were taking things a little far. True, Earth is not a wasteland: farming and fishing are still possible; resource gathering, while difficult and violent, has not devolved into a daily pitched battle. But when we join our protagonist Hig 10 years after a plague wiped out 99% of the population, humanity is spread thin and lonely. Heller writes lyrically of loss of life in every sense, not just of people dying but of the homes, communities and sense of belonging that is gone forever. The solitude is echoed brilliantly in the syntax, with periods cutting off thoughts mid-stream, and two-word sentences trying (and failing) to shore up the desolation. In this apocalypse, Hig and his dog Jasper live in an old municipal airport, converted into a fortress and a convenient place to park Hig's Cessna, which he uses for supply runs and reconnaissance. With them is Bagley, a volatile survivalist who stands in contrast to Hig's more introspective (read: depressive) mien. The men and dog do just fine until another death and a faint signal picked up on the Cessna's radio set a series of events into motion that lead to new connections in a world where most connections have dissolved in disease and distrust. This is surely what reviewers meant by "uplifting."
This was my favorite work of fiction this year. In fact, after finishing The Dog Stars, I spend at least 90 minutes curled under my bedcovers. Heller's spare prose painted such a stark picture of the fallen world that I could almost see the San Francisco skyline replaced by smoldering hulks; the cranes of the Port of Oakland bent and broken; the abandoned rumble of the Cal campus a few blocks away. Hig cannot escape what humanity had wrought. None of us can, if it comes to that. The sliver of hope offered at the end of the book just throw this possible truth into even sharper relief. It's a powerful technique, one that Heller and other writers of the literary apocalypse use to great effect, in a world that may or may not be slipping ever closer to the edge.
September--How Children Succeed: Grit, Curiosity and the Hidden Power of Character by Paul Tough
Who should develop the parts of our personalities that make up our character? Traditionally, 'character' has fallen under the purview of families, communities and religious institutions. But the near-universal consensus these days is that it should be something taught in school. While touching briefly on character education's sparse history (which never moved far from consistent enforcement of the Golden Rule), Tough spends much of the book making a case for why developing character is crucial, especially for children of poverty. He shows again and again how school achievement, college completion and other indicators of adult success have more to do with tenacity and teamwork than raw IQ or early exposure to math or reading. Much of the book focuses on two experienced educators and the different ways they approach character development with their students. One of the educators, Dave Levin, is a founder of the KIPP charter network, who just stepped down as superintendent of the 11 KIPP schools in New York City. The other, Dominic Randolph, is the headmaster of Riverside School, one of the city's most elite private schools. Through a series of conversations, Levin and Randolph developed two different approaches to developing character in their students, focusing particular on self-control, perseverance, optimism, curiosity and how to work successfully with others. Levin developed a detailed rubric that lists behaviors students display when they are mastering each trait. Randolph's version is less exacting, based on push-back he got from his staff. Most teachers believed kids who go to Riverside don't "need" the kind of explicit character development that disadvantaged students do. This, for me, was when the book got most interesting--and a bit frustrating. Tough stops short of offering a critical class analysis of who "needs" character development and who doesn't, but (to his credit), he makes it crystal clear that all children--regardless of background--will benefit from character education that teaches them how to press through difficult situations and pick themselves up when they fail. Tough also offers an astute and welcome critique of the ways education reform has replaced a broader spectrum of social welfare programs designed to get low-income families on their feet. Helping students build the character tools they need to succeed in life starts in early childhood with interventions geared to reducing stressful family relationships. Poverty, Tough reminds us, cannot be eradicated by schools alone.
October--A Plague of Lies by Judith Rock,
The Beautiful Mystery by Louise Penny,
The Case of the Deadly Butter Chicken by Tarquin Hall
October is mystery month, and what a month it was! From 17th century France to modern day New Delhi, the genre had something for everyone in 2012. The month began with the third Charles du Luc mystery from Judith Rock (aka: my godmother)! This time, Charles must navigate the intrigue of Versailles, complete with poisonings, vicious rumors and a rebellious princess of the blood royal. Rock has hit her stride as a novelist, and this is her best one yet. As always, the story is full of finely researched details and features some real historical figures, even as Rock crafts masterful fictional plots for them to play in. The map detail at the front of the book was drawn by my godfather, Jay!
The characters in Louise Penny's books are so vividly written that my literary nerd's soul aches every time she beautifully details their every mistake. While the mystery at the center of this latest book stands alone, as all of her novels do, the relationships between the characters span the whole series. In A Beautiful Mystery, the hubris of the murderer mirrors that of several regulars, resulting in plot twists that will leave you both satisfied, grief-stricken and longing for the next installment. (Read Louise Penny's novels in order, starting with Still Life.)
I've recommended Tarquin Hall's mysteries set in modern New Delhi before, and this year's offering is no different. Punjai detective Vish Puri might write earnest letters to the Times of India and wear a deer stalker hat (a la Sherlock Holmes), but his knowledge of New Delhi's underbelly and savvy use of a stable of creatively nicknamed sidekicks makes him (and Hall's plots) more cagey and sophisticated than they first appear. The Case of the Deadly Butter Chicken features the familiar cast of characters, though several are granted more depth, especially the ever-enigmatic Mama-ji, Vish's aged mother and an expert at teasing out complex family relationships, Indian-Pakistani politics and what it means to truly go home.
November--The Signal and the Noise by Nate Silver
We all need more gay quants in our lives. I mention Nate Silver's sexual orientation because I think it's important to point out how this author personifies the primary aspect of his "quant-ness" (i.e.: the ability to make a noticeably higher percentage of accurate predications.) Silver promotes the theory of "probabilistic" prediction making, meaning that a prediction can and should change as circumstances change. A situation that may appear likely from one angle proves ridiculous from another. And often forecasters will make predictions based on personal biases they are not willing to even acknowledge, much less incorporate consciously into the prognosis at hand. So, for example, many people might say the likelihood of the guy who designed a system for forecasting a professional baseball player's performance and made a quasi-living playing online poker before starting a political forecasting blog named after the number of votes in the Electoral College being gay would be slim to none. And they would be wrong. Nate Silver as a writer and statistician defies stereotypes, societal pigeonholes and any attempt to shove him into a single category, which would please him greatly, I think, since he devotes so much time in The Signal and the Noise exhorting us to avoid these very blunders.
For the record, Nate Silver doesn't talk about being gay explicitly even once in the book's 544 pages. What you will discover instead is Silver's self-deprecating humor, engaging writing style and insightful critique of the systems that perpetuate our addiction to inaccurate forecasting in all its forms. It's one of the few books I read this year that I want to read again soon--not just because it was fun, but because it contains crucial information that all of us should know.
December--Hell-bent: Obsession, Pain and the Search for Something Like Transcendence in Competitive Yoga by Benjamin Lorr
We began this year with a biography, so we'll end with a memoir. I rarely read either genre, but am enthusiastically recommending Lorr's story of his experience as a competitive practitioner and teacher of Bikram yoga. And not just because I, too, practice Bikram yoga and will gladly talk your ear off about it if given the opportunity. Not that I'm at Lorr's level or want to be. And while I appreciated learning some fascinating medical facts about the effect of exercising in 105 degree heat (perfectly fine as long as we stay hydrated), I most enjoyed hearing about Lorr's journey to better health and the way his example rubbed off on his friends (not always in the way you'd think). Lorr has something many memoir writers lack: an awareness of which parts of his story will be interesting to an audience. So, he is able to step out of the spotlight when necessary and let other subjects take center stage, including the ever-controversial Bikram himself, and Bikram's yogic opposite, a former disciple turned guru in his own right. It is this guru who ends the book on the note of transcendence mentioned in the title, and a moving reminder that yoga is an ancient, compelling, surreal, non-Western practice that means something different to everyone.
And, as always, this book list will mean something different to everyone, too. Please feel free to add your own comments/recommendations below. When I mentioned that 2013 will be different in terms of blogging what I meant was this: you can expect at least one blog post per month (if not more!) this year, a resolution I have now stated publicly and plan to keep.
Let the Year of Belonging in More Ways Than One begin!
March--Stiff: The Curious Life of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach (along with Spook: Science Takes on the Afterlife and anything else you can find by Mary Roach)
Dedicate your body to science these days, and you could end up in a lot more places than a medical school lab table. Mary Roach traces the 2,000-year history of how we've put human cadavers to work, from testing seat belts and weapons to solving crimes. With a perfect mix of humor and respect, her expert reporting also spotlights the people through the ages who have defied taboo to learn from the dead. Roach, known for her quirky subjects, is laugh-out-loud funny but never glib. I was most moved by a chapter about an anatomy course at UCSF medical school where students hold a memorial service to celebrate the lives of those whose bodies aid in the training of future healers.
April--The Outlaw Sea: a World of Freedom, Chaos and Crime by William Langewieche (Also highly recommended by this author: Sahara Unveiled)
Anarchy reigns on the open seas, and anyone who wants a peek into the darkest corner of lawless commerce on the planet need look no further than Langewieche's book. The huge container ships we see docked at ports near home are likely floating death traps, sold down the supply chain from sparsely regulated European and American companies to never-regulated operations registered in nations where a few thousand dollars can buy any safety inspector's stamp. In addition to the hazard to human life and the environment (these ships, huge as they are, can literally break apart and disappear without a trace in a northern Pacific storm), container vessels shuttle cargo from port to port at a volume that is impossible for even the most vigilant country to oversee. It is estimated that only 2% of all containers are even opened for inspection worldwide, and most for just a cursory glance. Langeweiche's reporting tracks ships from the building yard to the polluted beaches of southeast Asia where they are finally run aground and dismantled by hand by some of the world's most impoverished workers. This stark investigation of the reality--and freedom--of the open seas will change the way you look at those tankers bobbing picturesquely in the Bay.
May--Inventing English: A Portable History of the Language by Seth Lerer
Books about the English language always get my literary nerd's heart pumping. Lerer's masterpiece on the evolution of our fascinating tongue has been out for awhile but was recently released on Kindle. Needless to say, I gobbled it right up, and it proved the best book I've read (and I've read more than my share) to explain why English spelling is so screwy (blame Old Norse!) and how the Great Vowel Shift means that modern Americans sound more like Shakespeare than any current resident of Stratford-upon-Avon. Long on fun facts and short on esoteric explanations of consonant clusters (though there are a few of those too), Inventing English is an excellent starter book for anyone who wants to learn more about the world's lingua franca.
June--Redshirts: A Novel with Three Codas by Jon Scalzi
This year's science fiction offering is not for everyone. But it should be! A send-up of television space dramas (Star Trek in particular), it features denizens of a starship where ordinary crew members (uniformed in red) have noticed a disturbing trend: anyone who goes on a mission with a ranking officer is inevitably killed in the most grizzly way possible while the officer survives regardless of the odds. In an effort to save his skin, Ensign Andrew Dahl and a group of fellow "red shirts" go in search of a legendary crew member who, it is rumored, holds the key to unlocking the mystery and stopping the carnage. This story contains both "meta" and "physics" but never together. Instead, Scalzi's writing is accessible and highly entertaining, even as he sends his characters on a inter-dimensional adventure through time, space and Burbank, California. I maintain that anyone will appreciate both the fast-paced prose and sardonic, well-written characters who would be more at home on an episode of Seinfeld than Deep Space Nine. But don't take my word for it: check it out for yourself.
July--The Violinist's Thumb and Other Tales of Love, War and Genius as Written in Our Genetic Code by Sam Kean
Sam Kean wrote The Disappearing Spoon, surely the best book ever written about the periodic table of elements. He's back with a similarly far-ranging and readable look at the history of DNA and our search to understand why we look and act the way we do. Kean starts the journey with a personal, ethical and practical discussion about DNA testing, then takes us on a romp through the history of DNA discovery and various genetic mutations, both amusing (ever wonder why some people seem a little too attached to their cats?) and grim. Kean is never one to pull his punches when commenting on historic events, and his quick-witted take on scientific personalities is a highlight of this book. Those put off by flashbacks of high school chemistry brought on by The Disappearing Spoon may find this book less intimidating but no less entertaining.
August--The Dog Stars by Peter Heller
If novelists mine the undercurrents of our culture, bringing to light truths that are hidden within the seams of daily life, then there are a lot of people out there with Armageddon on their minds. The Dog Stars is the latest entry in the booming sub genre of literary post-apocalyptic fiction, following the likes of The Road and The Age of Miracles up the bestseller list. While Heller's first novel is less grim than some, early reviews that hailed it as an "uplifting" view of the End of Days were taking things a little far. True, Earth is not a wasteland: farming and fishing are still possible; resource gathering, while difficult and violent, has not devolved into a daily pitched battle. But when we join our protagonist Hig 10 years after a plague wiped out 99% of the population, humanity is spread thin and lonely. Heller writes lyrically of loss of life in every sense, not just of people dying but of the homes, communities and sense of belonging that is gone forever. The solitude is echoed brilliantly in the syntax, with periods cutting off thoughts mid-stream, and two-word sentences trying (and failing) to shore up the desolation. In this apocalypse, Hig and his dog Jasper live in an old municipal airport, converted into a fortress and a convenient place to park Hig's Cessna, which he uses for supply runs and reconnaissance. With them is Bagley, a volatile survivalist who stands in contrast to Hig's more introspective (read: depressive) mien. The men and dog do just fine until another death and a faint signal picked up on the Cessna's radio set a series of events into motion that lead to new connections in a world where most connections have dissolved in disease and distrust. This is surely what reviewers meant by "uplifting."
This was my favorite work of fiction this year. In fact, after finishing The Dog Stars, I spend at least 90 minutes curled under my bedcovers. Heller's spare prose painted such a stark picture of the fallen world that I could almost see the San Francisco skyline replaced by smoldering hulks; the cranes of the Port of Oakland bent and broken; the abandoned rumble of the Cal campus a few blocks away. Hig cannot escape what humanity had wrought. None of us can, if it comes to that. The sliver of hope offered at the end of the book just throw this possible truth into even sharper relief. It's a powerful technique, one that Heller and other writers of the literary apocalypse use to great effect, in a world that may or may not be slipping ever closer to the edge.
September--How Children Succeed: Grit, Curiosity and the Hidden Power of Character by Paul Tough
Who should develop the parts of our personalities that make up our character? Traditionally, 'character' has fallen under the purview of families, communities and religious institutions. But the near-universal consensus these days is that it should be something taught in school. While touching briefly on character education's sparse history (which never moved far from consistent enforcement of the Golden Rule), Tough spends much of the book making a case for why developing character is crucial, especially for children of poverty. He shows again and again how school achievement, college completion and other indicators of adult success have more to do with tenacity and teamwork than raw IQ or early exposure to math or reading. Much of the book focuses on two experienced educators and the different ways they approach character development with their students. One of the educators, Dave Levin, is a founder of the KIPP charter network, who just stepped down as superintendent of the 11 KIPP schools in New York City. The other, Dominic Randolph, is the headmaster of Riverside School, one of the city's most elite private schools. Through a series of conversations, Levin and Randolph developed two different approaches to developing character in their students, focusing particular on self-control, perseverance, optimism, curiosity and how to work successfully with others. Levin developed a detailed rubric that lists behaviors students display when they are mastering each trait. Randolph's version is less exacting, based on push-back he got from his staff. Most teachers believed kids who go to Riverside don't "need" the kind of explicit character development that disadvantaged students do. This, for me, was when the book got most interesting--and a bit frustrating. Tough stops short of offering a critical class analysis of who "needs" character development and who doesn't, but (to his credit), he makes it crystal clear that all children--regardless of background--will benefit from character education that teaches them how to press through difficult situations and pick themselves up when they fail. Tough also offers an astute and welcome critique of the ways education reform has replaced a broader spectrum of social welfare programs designed to get low-income families on their feet. Helping students build the character tools they need to succeed in life starts in early childhood with interventions geared to reducing stressful family relationships. Poverty, Tough reminds us, cannot be eradicated by schools alone.
October--A Plague of Lies by Judith Rock,
The Beautiful Mystery by Louise Penny,
The Case of the Deadly Butter Chicken by Tarquin Hall
October is mystery month, and what a month it was! From 17th century France to modern day New Delhi, the genre had something for everyone in 2012. The month began with the third Charles du Luc mystery from Judith Rock (aka: my godmother)! This time, Charles must navigate the intrigue of Versailles, complete with poisonings, vicious rumors and a rebellious princess of the blood royal. Rock has hit her stride as a novelist, and this is her best one yet. As always, the story is full of finely researched details and features some real historical figures, even as Rock crafts masterful fictional plots for them to play in. The map detail at the front of the book was drawn by my godfather, Jay!
The characters in Louise Penny's books are so vividly written that my literary nerd's soul aches every time she beautifully details their every mistake. While the mystery at the center of this latest book stands alone, as all of her novels do, the relationships between the characters span the whole series. In A Beautiful Mystery, the hubris of the murderer mirrors that of several regulars, resulting in plot twists that will leave you both satisfied, grief-stricken and longing for the next installment. (Read Louise Penny's novels in order, starting with Still Life.)
I've recommended Tarquin Hall's mysteries set in modern New Delhi before, and this year's offering is no different. Punjai detective Vish Puri might write earnest letters to the Times of India and wear a deer stalker hat (a la Sherlock Holmes), but his knowledge of New Delhi's underbelly and savvy use of a stable of creatively nicknamed sidekicks makes him (and Hall's plots) more cagey and sophisticated than they first appear. The Case of the Deadly Butter Chicken features the familiar cast of characters, though several are granted more depth, especially the ever-enigmatic Mama-ji, Vish's aged mother and an expert at teasing out complex family relationships, Indian-Pakistani politics and what it means to truly go home.
November--The Signal and the Noise by Nate Silver
We all need more gay quants in our lives. I mention Nate Silver's sexual orientation because I think it's important to point out how this author personifies the primary aspect of his "quant-ness" (i.e.: the ability to make a noticeably higher percentage of accurate predications.) Silver promotes the theory of "probabilistic" prediction making, meaning that a prediction can and should change as circumstances change. A situation that may appear likely from one angle proves ridiculous from another. And often forecasters will make predictions based on personal biases they are not willing to even acknowledge, much less incorporate consciously into the prognosis at hand. So, for example, many people might say the likelihood of the guy who designed a system for forecasting a professional baseball player's performance and made a quasi-living playing online poker before starting a political forecasting blog named after the number of votes in the Electoral College being gay would be slim to none. And they would be wrong. Nate Silver as a writer and statistician defies stereotypes, societal pigeonholes and any attempt to shove him into a single category, which would please him greatly, I think, since he devotes so much time in The Signal and the Noise exhorting us to avoid these very blunders.
For the record, Nate Silver doesn't talk about being gay explicitly even once in the book's 544 pages. What you will discover instead is Silver's self-deprecating humor, engaging writing style and insightful critique of the systems that perpetuate our addiction to inaccurate forecasting in all its forms. It's one of the few books I read this year that I want to read again soon--not just because it was fun, but because it contains crucial information that all of us should know.
December--Hell-bent: Obsession, Pain and the Search for Something Like Transcendence in Competitive Yoga by Benjamin Lorr
We began this year with a biography, so we'll end with a memoir. I rarely read either genre, but am enthusiastically recommending Lorr's story of his experience as a competitive practitioner and teacher of Bikram yoga. And not just because I, too, practice Bikram yoga and will gladly talk your ear off about it if given the opportunity. Not that I'm at Lorr's level or want to be. And while I appreciated learning some fascinating medical facts about the effect of exercising in 105 degree heat (perfectly fine as long as we stay hydrated), I most enjoyed hearing about Lorr's journey to better health and the way his example rubbed off on his friends (not always in the way you'd think). Lorr has something many memoir writers lack: an awareness of which parts of his story will be interesting to an audience. So, he is able to step out of the spotlight when necessary and let other subjects take center stage, including the ever-controversial Bikram himself, and Bikram's yogic opposite, a former disciple turned guru in his own right. It is this guru who ends the book on the note of transcendence mentioned in the title, and a moving reminder that yoga is an ancient, compelling, surreal, non-Western practice that means something different to everyone.
And, as always, this book list will mean something different to everyone, too. Please feel free to add your own comments/recommendations below. When I mentioned that 2013 will be different in terms of blogging what I meant was this: you can expect at least one blog post per month (if not more!) this year, a resolution I have now stated publicly and plan to keep.
Let the Year of Belonging in More Ways Than One begin!
