As I look back on the books I finished in 2023, I realize my reading is all over the map. Most of what I “read”—either by scanning actual words on paper or listening to an audio version during walks, workouts, and drives—is part of my preparation to interview the authors on my podcast, so there’s a lot of non-fiction.
Another reason I lean toward the factual might be that, as I get older, I grow hungrier to understand why the world is the way it is. I thought less about this when I was younger and just trying to get women to notice me and/or climb the corporate ladder (which are kind of the same thing). Of course, novels also help to explain what it means to be human. It’s just that my Instagram-induced neuroplasticity has made fiction harder to follow.
Maybe someday I’ll break this pattern and organize my studies thematically. I’ll consume just Russian novels, only Hellenistic philosophy, or nothing but fantasy romance written by Brooklyn-based yoga instructors. For now, here is a wacky sample of this year’s reading that made me think the most.
Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth by Reza Aslan (Random House, 2013). If I could recommend only one book for the year, this is it. Coming off Hamas’ atrocities of October 7, I spent a lot of time researching the history of anti-Semitism, which all started with the Gospels falsely claiming that the Jews killed Jesus. This made me hungry to learn what is and isn’t true about Jesus’ life. Zealot outlines the historical landscape in which Jesus, among many other zealous, itinerant Jewish preachers, fought back against the occupying Romans who eventually crucified them. In so doing, Aslan puts into context what is fact and what is authorial license in the most influential book in Western history. Some critics argue that Zealot contains a few geographical inaccuracies and "questionable assertions.” But hell, so does the Bible.
Two-Parent Privilege: How Americans Stopped Getting Married and Started Falling Behind by Melissa Kearney (University of Chicago Press, 2023). What’s telling about this book by the University of Maryland Economics professor is less its seemingly benign and self-evident thesis than the hysterical reaction it provoked. Dr. Kearney has spent her career studying social policy, poverty, and inequality, which doesn’t exactly sound like the work of a right-wing religious nut. Yet, in our current political climate, Kearney’s data-supported assertion that—on average—children raised in two-parent homes achieve better educational and professional outcomes than children raised by single parents is utter blasphemy. Fellow academics, reviewers, and social media haters trashed her work, suggesting that she is a shill of outdated, sexist conservatism using scholarly camouflage to disguise her victim-blaming. But Kearney bends over backward to avoid judgment and to acknowledge that marriage rates are—among other things—tied inextricably to economic factors, including some job-destroying conservative policies. I find it both sad and telling that many people would rather adhere to their tribal narrative than put politics aside and accept the inconvenient truth that some family structures are actually better for children. Refusing to do so will only prolong the problem and exacerbate inequality. Maybe that’s what they want. (Listen to my interview with Melissa here.)
Comedy Book: How Comedy Conquered Culture–and the Magic That Makes It Work by Jesse David Fox (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2023). Comedy film impresario Judd Apatow said of Comedy Book and its author, “I thought I was the ultimate obsessed comedy nerd but… I realized there is someone out there much sicker than me.” That pretty much sums it up. Fox is a deeply passionate and informed comedy fan who writes about the craft with great precision, connecting non-obvious techniques and trends. If you like to dork out on comedy, this book is for you.
What did you read / like this year? Add your recs in the comments below.
Homegrown: Timothy McVeigh and the Rise of Right-Wing Extremism by Jeffrey Toobin (Simon & Schuster, 2023). I find it interesting to re-visit news from a decade or two back if only to see which facts I remember accurately. That was the case a few years ago with The Suspect about the 1996 Atlanta Olympic bombing, and it’s especially true with Homegrown, the story of the 1995 bombing of the FBI Building in Oklahoma City, perpetrator Timothy McVeigh, and his relationship with reluctant accomplice, Terry Nichols. I don’t think Toobin achieves his objective of drawing a direct link between McVeigh and Trump’s populist movement, but his work is a thought-provoking reminder that “patriots” can draw just as much American blood as our “enemies.”
Never Enough: When Achievement Culture Becomes Toxic and What We Can Do About It by Jennifer Breheny Wallace (Portfolio, 2023). This is a must-read for any parent raising kids in an environment of achievement, credentialing, and status-seeking—AKA any upper middle class+ zip code in the USA. Katie Couric calls the New York Times best-seller “a wake-up call for all of us.” I call it a reminder to stop projecting your unfulfilled dreams onto your kids and to love them for who they are. (Listen to my interview with Jenny here.)
Cinema Speculation by Quentin Tarantino (Harper, 2022). I can’t get enough QT. I listened to all three hours of his conversation with Joe Rogan and would have happily listened to another three. So what could be greater than one of the most passionate and knowledgeable filmmakers of my lifetime going deep about the movies that made him a film-lover? Great read.
How to Get Rich by Felix Denis (Portfolio, 2009). I wrote a whole article about this one, but here’s a summary: everybody says they want to get really rich, yet very few people are willing or able to embody the single-minded obsessiveness required to become a member of the uber-wealthy elite. And that’s why the author cautions us, “Do not confuse desire with compulsion.”
The Evolution of Desire: Strategies of Human Mating by David M. Buss (Basic Books, 1994). I’m actually re-reading The Evolution of Desire as I’m going to write a separate article about it as well, so I won't say that much. But if you think there are no meaningful differences—biological, social, and financial—between men and women, you are out of your mind. Buss explains why and how the way we pass on our genes determines our behavior. The parallels between our dating rituals and those of other species are downright hilarious.
The Shards by Bret Easton Ellis (Knopf, 2023). As a loyal child of the 1980s, I will read whatever Ellis writes. This novel is kind of the “book behind the book” to Less Than Zero. As such, it’s full of—to quote Frank Ocean lyrics—the “white lies and white lines,” of super-rich high school kids doing drugs and having sex in their absent parents’ homes. It’s also an exploration of Ellis’ struggle with his sexual identity, which at times borders on gay porn. So before you run out and pick it up, ask yourself, “Do I want to read about semen?” (Sorry, it’s true.)
Trinity by Leon Uris (Doubleday, 1976). From semen to Irish historical fiction! Last year I wrote about how much I loved Patrick Radden Keefe’s Say Nothing: A True Story About Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland, which tells the story of The Troubles and the history of the IRA. Thus did my friend and former Facebook colleague Doug Stotland insist that I tackle this mega-novel, which I enjoyed immensely and found most informative. Given current events, I might have to launch 2024 by reading Uris’ Exodus about the founding of Israel.
Some others…
Ed Begley Jr.’s To the Temple of Tranquility…and Step on It (Hachette 2023) is a joyous account of the actor and environmental activist’s life, career, and the friendships and family who made him who he is today. Lots of wonderful Hollywood stories, if you’re into that kind of thing.
Laura Belgray’s Tough Titties (Hachette 2023) is a hilarious account of her awkward teen years and not-in-a-straight-line career growth. It’ll make you LOL while wishing you had tended bar in Manhattan in the early 1990’s. (Well, the guys will wish this anyway.)
Lucinda Williams’ Don't Tell Anybody the Secrets I Told You: A Memoir (Crown, 2023) If you love Lucinda’s music, as I do, you’ll hear the words come off the page in her beautiful, garbled voice. If you’ve never heard of her, read something else.
If Morrissey wrote a book about university endowment management, it would read like Gary Sernovitz’ The Counting House (University of New Orleans Press, 2023), a super-intelligent novel about professional identity, middle-aged angst, and the politics of finance. If someone you love is into money and has a dry sense of humor, buy them this book for Christmas or Hanukkah. (Btw, what if Morrissey’s world-class angst turned out to be the result of a lack of fiber in his diet?)
THE END
Thanks Paul! I love curated lists and trust your judgment on what's interesting. :) Thanks for sharing The Fall of Minneapolis. I'll check it out and send that to my friend, who is making a documentary for Frontline about police brutality that causes death in America.
As we both said previously, it's a dangerous job, one that people like you and me should be very, very glad we don't have to do. And on that note of gratitude, I wish you and yours the merriest of Christmases and the happiest of New Years.