New Month, New Reads (and Listens!)
Enjoy a fresh batch of books, articles, and podcasts in this February edition of The Foreword.
Two years ago, I started roasting my own coffee beans. I’ve long been something of a coffee snob, but only recently have I discovered all that goes into the process of creating the divine sustenance that sweeps away my mental cobwebs during waking hours. Like any snob worth his salt, I eschewed chains for local coffee shops, purchased Fair Trade-certified brands, and always opted for whole beans over grounds.
But roasting seemed to me a lofty craft, reserved only for the trained professional. That changed when I happened upon a friend announcing on social media that he was selling his own line of coffee beans. I thought to myself, If he can do it, maybe I can as well?
As it turned out, I could. And as I soon learned, prior to the early-twentieth century, coffee was roasted almost exclusively in the home, with children often overseeing the task. But like most crafts, commercialization sold the public ease over quality, and the demand for a quick, efficient cup of joe skyrocketed. Grinding and roasting beans became obsolete, replaced by vacuum-sealed, freeze-dried coffee grounds. Fortunately, the cycle has come full circle and quality has become a priority again, both in the roasting and purchasing of coffee, with third wave coffee giving rise to an appreciation for sustainably sourced product, craft roasting, and new-and-improved brewing techniques. With a little research, I was hooked.
I began small, purchasing an inexpensive popcorn popper and two pounds of green coffee beans. After absorbing just enough information from YouTube tutorials to feel dangerous, I switched on the popper and the beans began to dance. Around ten minutes later, I had three ounces of freshly roasted beans—and they were glorious. (If you ever dive into home roasting, you’ll quickly discover that even an average fresh roast tastes exponentially better than anything you can buy off the shelf.)
I am by no means an expert roaster today, but I have developed an appreciation for the complexity and nuance of the process. Roasting beans is a sensory act. You have to monitor their color as they caramelize into your preferred shade of brown, smell the aroma of the roast, which ranges from freshly disturbed soil to oven-baked bread, and listen for the cracks that signal each stage of the bean’s development.
Roasting coffee is a practice in presence, slowing down long enough to savor something rather than simply consuming it.
If you’re anything like me, moments like these have grown increasingly difficult to come by. They feel impractical, inefficient, especially with the accompanying challenges posed by a global pandemic and my two kids who love snuggles. But these moments remind us that we’re human, and that effecting change in the world around us starts with paying attention.
Reading does something similar. It forces us to halt, to savor, to see anew. Neil Gaiman describes the practice as one that supplies us with “armor, with knowledge, with weapons, with tools [we] can take back into [our] life to help make it better.” Books furnish us with a longer view, rewarding those who opt not for ease, but for stillness and silence.
Presence can’t be hacked. It has to be cultivated. So I hope you’ll find some space to practice it this month. And I hope a few of these recommendations give you a reason to do so.
January Reads
Wintering by Katherine May—May’s winter began with her husband falling seriously ill, followed by her own cancer diagnosis and her son remaining home bound rather than attending school. These circumstances, neither looked for nor longed for, ushered her into a season of winter and learning how to find beauty in derailed times. Blending memoir with a journalistic eye, May turns to the natural world, animal life, and winter bathing, among other subjects, as vivid illustrations of how to winter well, resulting in a winsome invitation to a new perspective that embraces trying times as formative and temporary, knowing the springtime sun will soon shine again.
The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss—A friend has been bugging me to read this for a few years, and while it’s a behemoth of a book, it delivered. The first installment in Rothfuss’s soon-to-be completed (fingers crossed!) The Kingkiller Chronicle trilogy, The Name of the Wind follows Kvothe, a young musician who turns to the art of magic following the brutal murder of his parents and traveling troupe. Told by Kvothe himself, the story’s packed with a fascinating new world, creepy villains, and plenty of suspense for what’s yet to come. It’s especially good on audiobook—so check out Libro.fm already!
The Stars Are Not Yet Bells by Hannah Lillith Assadi—Told from the perspective of an elderly woman slowly succumbing to dementia, the book reads like a prism, its narrative refracting as her mind blurs the lines between memory and the present. Assadi’s prose is evocative, filled with vivid imagery and poetic plotting. It’s a moving meditation on loss, regret, and the search for a purposeful life. If you want a taste, I recommend this essay from Assadi, which published right before her book’s release.
Home by Christian Wiman—I’ve always had a hard time connecting with poetry, so I wanted to give the genre a more intentional try this year. Christian Wiman is one of the few poets I’ve resonated with (I wrote about one of his books a few years back), and the topic of “home” is one I find fascinating. It’s a subject that’s hard to approach head on and benefits from being written about indirectly, which makes it perfect for poetry. So far, I’m enjoying this collection quite a bit.
February’s Most Anticipated
Buckle up because February is stacked with exciting new releases. I could have easily doubled this list, but I’ve trimmed it down to the titles I’m most looking forward to.
Moon Witch, Spider King by Marlon James—It’s finally here: the second installment of James’s Dark Star trilogy, a uniquely African entry to the fantasy genre. The first book, Black Leopard, Red Wolf, followed Tracker as he sought to locate a disappeared boy, fighting terrifying adversaries along the way. This book centers on one of those adversaries, Sogolon the Moon Witch, a 177-year-old sorceress who offers her own perspective on what happened to the boy. James blew me away with what he accomplished in the first installment, creating a world both unique and ancient, and I expect much of the same from this sequel.
The Books of Jacob by Olga Tokarczuk—In her second release since winning 2018’s Nobel Prize in Literature, Tokarczuk transports readers to eighteenth-century Poland to witness the rise of a young Jewish man and his charismatic religious following. Some consider him a heretic while others view him as their chosen one, and together they capture “a world on the cusp of precipitous change, searching for certainty and longing for transcendence.” In a clever nod to its religious core—one perfectly in keeping with Riverhead’s publishing genius—the book is paginated in reverse, beginning with the final page’s numbering so as to mirror books read in Hebrew.
Scoundrel by Sarah Weinman—True-crime fans: this one’s for you. Scoundrel chronicles the wild story of Edgar Smith, who was sentenced to death for murdering a teenage girl until William Buckley, founder of National Review, began a public campaign to have Smith’s sentence overturned. Weiman’s reporting “leads us through the twists of fate and fortune that brought Smith to freedom, book deals, fame, and eventually to attempting murder again.” Sounds like a perfect podcast . . . but on paper!
Aggressively Happy by Joy Marie Clarkson—Twitter has made name calling an expertise, but sometimes what’s meant as an insult becomes a badge of honor, or in Clarkson’s case, a book title. And in a world inundated with doom and gloom, she’s certain that it’s possible not only for you to be happy, but aggressively so. I’m halfway through the book and have already changed portions of my daily routine because of how winsome and practical it is. Her joy is simply infectious. (I’m sure she’s never heard that one before). I’ll have a Q&A with her about the book soon, so keep an eye out for that.
Backlist Recommendation
The Monk of Mokha by Dave Eggers—I can’t hype you up on the idea of coffee without giving you a reading rec. And this is one of my favorites, telling the true story of Mokhtar Alkhanshali, a Yemeni American determined to reintroduce Yemen coffee to the world. Many consider Yemen to be the birthplace of modern coffee, but modern military conflicts have severely crippled what used to be one of the country’s biggest exports. At age twenty-four, Mokhtar discovered the history of Yemen coffee and decided to reinvigorate the industry by founding Port of Mokha. From dodging gunfire to surviving kidnapping and stealing a boat to cross the Red Sea, The Monk of Mokha has it all. Plus, you’ll learn a ton about coffee.
Reading Roundup
F.B.I. Arrests Man Accused of Stealing Unpublished Book Manuscripts—I first ran across this story in December 2020, when the Times published an article about an unidentified individual posing as a publishing professional and requesting unpublished manuscripts with false email addresses for reasons unknown. Long story short, the F.B.I. found him and we now have some answer.
The Case Against the Trauma Plot—When it comes to literary critics, Parul Sehgal is as good as they come. Her reviews are meaty, thoughtful, and imbued with a joy for the written word. Here, she examines trauma as a plot device that has grown increasingly popular among books and film titles today to consider whether or not it actually adds depth to characters.
At Night, All Books Are Bright—Ever thought about how darkness affects writing and, therefore, reading? Now you can.
5 Podcasts No Book Lover Should Miss—If you’re a podcaster, here are five bookish podcast recommendations from the editor-in-chief of Kirkus Reviews.
Celeste Ng previews her third novel: ‘It’s about keeping a shared sense of humanity alive’—Celeste Ng has a new novel coming out October 4. Need I say more?
Afterword
Last month, I signed off with an alternative to Audible. This month, I’ll leave you with an option for purchasing physical books that also lets you support independent bookstores: Bookshop.org. For years now, Amazon has undercut the publishing industry by selling books at an undervalued price (often at a net loss), which has created a consumer expectation for buying books cheap.
Shopping with Bookshop.org contributes a portion of your order to a pool that’s evenly distributed among booksellers nationwide. You also have the option to support an indie of your choice through their interactive map. The company was founded with a design to give away over 75% of its profit margin to directly support local economies through book sales. When I can’t buy directly from my indie, Bookshop.org is always my next stop. It’s also where I link to all of the books I recommend in The Foreword. So I hope you’ll check it out and give booksellers the support they deserve.