What to Read in a Hot Donut
Carriage Return, 9/26/2017
Carriage Return is The Ribbon’s round-up of recent Literati Bookstore staff favorites, as well as an occasional place for useful links and news from around the literary web regarding upcoming events at the store.
Unseasonable warmth has marked our late September here in the Midwest, a “hot donut” they call it. And while others have taken to heading back to the lakes and rivers take one big bite out of it, many more thirsting for fall’s crispness may be taking begrudging shelter. Either way, we’ll think you’ll need a book. And the good news is, regardless of the weather, September is book season.
Here are some recent staff picks for wherever you’ll be reading.
Recent Staff Favorites (in Hardcover)
Nomadland: Surviving American in the Twenty-First Century, by Jessica Bruder
Untold numbers of poor Americans, many of them seniors, are now living in run-down vans and campers, bunking at one week and out public campgrounds, Walmart parking lots, and even suburban streets. White vans are their camouflage. Often the consequence of bad investments and foreclosures, or ill-considered loans to family members, there is nothing romantic about this life on the road. Author Bruder gets to know and travel with people who do seasonal work in Amazon warehouses (branded “CamperForce”), and the privatized and poorly paid campground jobs at state parks. She even takes a job with migrant farm workers processing sugar beets: it’s just as bad as you expect it to be. Bruder’s subjects don’t whine. They share their skills for cutting hair, small space cooking, and solar power collection. Still, you can only imagine what the people who wouldn’t talk to the author might have to say. Both disturbing and uplifting — these “workampers” are resourceful in a country that has given them less than they are owed. — Carla
Sourdough, by Robin Sloan
Though I have certainly sold many, many copies of Robin Sloan’s first book Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore, I had not had the pleasure of reading his work until I picked up Sourdough. Sourdough is the deeply charming story of Lois Clary, a software engineer who goes from a lonely, anxious wreck who subsists on a nutrient-rich drink called Slurry, to a curious, ambitious baker who turns out a sourdough bread that is as delicious as it is strange. I have not enjoyed a book like Sloan’s in quite some time — a novel that astounds you with the ordinary, that allows you to rediscover the joy of a life well-lived and well-loved, a novel, in other words, that is most interested in the magic that exists all around us. Sourdough tells us to go beyond the routine, the commonplace, the okay, because there are angels out there, and magic is always within reach. — Lillian
All The Dirty Parts, by Daniel Handler
The experience of reading Daniel Handler’s new novel can be summed up in one, all-caps word: WHOA. Coming up with a well-written sex scene, one that actually captures the mess and beauty, tenderness and brutality of the act is already a challenge that defeats many (most) writers, but an entire book of sex scenes, a narrative strung together by vignettes of desire and release, characters fleshed out and silhouetted by the flashing light and sudden dark of their physical and emotional yearning — that’s a truly Sisyphean task. But Handler has gotten that immense boulder up the hill and pushed it over the edge. I wanted the protagonist, Cole, to win and I wanted him to learn at the same time, when most sex-crazed teenage boys just make me want to punch them in the face. Throughout the novel, I was immersed in Cole’s churning world, felt fully the power of his single-mindedness, his exertion, and his blindness. What Handler shows us is that sex, for Cole, for many, is as all-consuming as love, and when the two finally mix, the poor boy can only hold on tight and ride it through. Clearly this book wound me up. — Sam
Autumn, by Karl Ove Knausgaard
I tried to tackle Knausgaard’s six-volume memoir, My Struggle, and the struggle of six volumes proved too difficult. But I love this little book. It reminds me of a more memoirish, modern A Sand County Almanac. Knausgaard has a unique way of seeing the world; these short essays written to his unborn daughter immerse you in both the changing seasons and fatherhood. A perfect fall read for new parents who appreciate nature (and don’t have time to tackle a six-volume memoir). — Mike
Recent Staff Favorites (in Paperback)
Swallowing Mercury, by Wioletta Greg
In this enchanting first novel by Polish poet, Wioletta Greg, life in a politically tumultuous 1980’s rural Poland is seen through the eyes of a precocious child, in chapters progressing from her earliest of memories through to those of her teenage years. Greg consistently uses the minutest and most unexpected of details, and evocative imagery to suggest a time, a place, a mood, a feeling: “I lay down beside her and watched the sky spin candyfloss out of the clouds.” The beauty and ability of her language to capture a child’s wonder, confusion, and curiosity at the world, and to summon nearly palpable childhood memories in the reader is unparalleled. The captivating and lyrical language of this poet simply knocked my socks off; her novel is a magical testimony to the belief that the child in us is universally ever-present, and can be stirred to life by a consummate writer. — Jeanne
Don’t Call Us Dead, by Danez Smith
It isn’t always the case that a collection of poems is published and within a mere seven days the book is long-listed for the National Book Award — this is especially true when the poet is under the age of 30. All the hype set aside: this book is potent, ferocious, and acutely situated within the intersections of race, sexuality, myth, social justice, and faith. Though such a list of subjects might sound jarring or easily mismanaged, Smith’s eye for images, coupled with their ear for melodies, results in a nearly perfect orchestration of startlingly difficult, if not revelatory, themes. What if dinosaurs ran the hood? What might a paradise-after-life for all those illegally and unnecessarily slain by the police look like? Smith gives us answers to questions like these in addition to much, much more. These poems are as raw as they are masterful — they bite sharply and they soothe. — Bennet
