Does listening to audiobooks count as reading? Here it does. Let’s discuss your favorite reads — or listens.
All tagged history
Derf Backderf's "Kent State: Four Dead in Ohio" takes readers beyond the iconic photograph, offering a meticulously researched and haunting graphic novel about the events that occurred on May 4, 1970, between students at Kent State University and the Ohio National Guard.
For expecting this to be a frothy history, I was surprised by the detailed explorations of how the sausage was/is made – from studio system contracts to politicking and power grabs. People looking for an exhaustive recap of the awards themselves will be disappointed as Schulman presents more a chronicle of Hollywood in 11 eras, with the Oscars serving as a (sometimes loose) connective thread to introduce the films, actors and creators that defined each generation.
For readers that want to brush up on the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s, the “March” series is an exemplary feat of storytelling that exposes the hypocrisy, violence and injustice that spurred the movement while celebrating the everyday people who protested – and died – for desegregation and the passing of the Voting Rights Act.
While not as well-known in the mainstream as the Pride flag, the pink triangle – the Nazi concentration camp symbol for prisoners convicted under Paragraph 175, the German law that criminalized homosexual activity among men – is an enduring and important marker of queer history that morphed from an emblem of shame into a symbol of activism.
A mashup of true crime, memoir and history, the story is more glossy magazine feature than stodgy tome and stands as a love letter to libraries, and the crucial role these institutions play in building healthy communities and safeguarding democracy.
Paced like a thriller – there’s short chapters and each has a clear focus – Egan stays rooted in basics and not minutiae. There’s detail on the inner workings of the KKK, state and national politics, “Roaring 20s” culture and immigration panic to provide a contextual foundation, but the author keeps everything aligned to his thesis: how Indiana served as a microcosm for a growing wave of racism in northern states, and the resisters who fought it.
If you find time to read only one book in recognition of Native American Heritage Month (or Nonfiction November, for those who celebrate), I highly encourage Adrienne Keene’s excellent spotlight on notable individuals from some of the 574 federally recognized American Indian Tribal nations.
While Baum’s love of New Orleans’ inhabitants and history is apparent, this well-written and researched – but horribly overstuffed and scattershot – book is not nearly as interesting as he thought it would be. All-in-all, this would appeal most to people who like day-in-the-life narratives, but for those looking for history or insight about Hurricane Katrina and rebuilding New Orleans will be left disappointed.
This is largely a Cliff’s Notes view of the American Revolution and fledgling democracy, which is honestly the right amount for most readers, while focusing on subjects often overlooked - Washington’s propaganda machine, political enemies, women and slaves.
Expectation: A gut-punch queer love story set within the backdrop of World War I trenches.
Reality: Stilted dialogue, a ping-pong narrative structure and an unbelievable connection between the two main characters made this rather disappointing.
I adored the premise of this book, and in many ways it is a love letter to journalism in its purest form. Weingarten is a gifted writer and researcher who was able to find marvel in both the mundane and monumental aspects of life on that day. Yet, as the chapters went on, the whole exercise began to feel tawdry and voyeuristic.
This is a wisp of a book that could be considered a primer on the subject, but it never goes deep enough to make you feel like you’re learning something versus reading a listicle.
You can disagree or dislike decisions Spiegelman made, but you cannot deny that this is a powerful series that needs - no, it demands - to be read, taught and discussed.
While he gave it his best effort, “Say Nothing” came up short for me – and that’s more on me than it is on Keefe. He did the work, distilling thousands of interviews, analyzing watershed events and piecing together elements of an intricate puzzle while battling cagey subjects and still fresh wounds on both sides.
Most of my tepidness towards the novel is because I thought it was focused solely on “The Disappeared,” the 18 individuals abducted by loyalists and republicans during the Northern Ireland conflict.
Arranged by theme or poses (i.e. military, beach, picnic, kissing, etc.), Nini and Treadwell show us that for as much as times have changed, very little has in the ways we show affection – subtle touches, warm embraces, lazy days snuggled together or candid captures of two people at their most vulnerable and pure.
Expectation: I expected a light story about celebrating the future while acknowledging the past.
Reality: A moving portrayal of the transgender experience, but the book-in-verse format didn’t translate well as an audiobook.
“Destiny of the Republic” does a fine job honoring James A. Garfield’s legacy, and Candice Millard took great care to not lose the person behind the tragedy by overstuffing the book with anecdotes and ancillary characters.
Even though Purnell’s heart was in the right place by elevating the contributions of Virginia Hall, “Woman” felt a bit tawdry. While we receive a well-rounded view of a pioneering figure in global espionage, the whole thing felt a little soulless, likely because Hall would’ve objected to its publication.
While a fascinating microhistory of humans and animals surviving through the ISIS occupation of Mosul through much of the mid-2010s, Callaghan never quite found the right balance between history, politics and humanity.
“Indianapolis” is an exhaustive, sometimes tedious, but largely engrossing telling of the worst U.S. Naval disaster after Pearl Harbor that had largely vacated the public consciousness for 30 years until Robert Shaw’s Quint, the shark-obsessed fisherman in “Jaws” gave his bone-chilling monologue about surviving the USS Indianapolis sinking.
