#dktreads2017

This was a book club pick, and though the group didn't like it that much, it was my pick so I feel honour-bound to defend it. And honestly, I did like it -- the writing and structre aren't wonderful, but I think that the project that Gallo takes on is very smart. The idea is that the murder of Kitty Genovese stands as the archetype of urban apathy: more than 30 people saw her get killed and no one stepped in to help because they all thought someone else would. And while Gallo shows that this is completely untrue -- no one directly witnessed the murder, it was very late night/early morning, and a neighbour who heard screams did call the cops -- but still, the story has incredible reach and is called upon in many situations, up to the present day, to show how terrible city living is. Instead, Gallo tells the story of a good urban neighbourhood, Kitty's indipendent lesbian life (she manages a bar, which is why she gets home so late), and a different scope of urban infrastructure than we're used to. For instance, this happened before there was 911, and how to get in touch with the police when there was an emergency was not so clear!

I must have heard this guy on NPR or something and then put the book on hold -- it was a suprise to me when it showed up at the library. This is one of those "I have a new job! And I'm more literate than th average doer-of-this-job so let me tell you, reading public, all about it!" books (not the only one I've read this year). There's no major plot or story arc, just Hazzard talking about the day-to-day work of driving an ambulance in Atlatna. Totallly enjoyable insight into this world: how ambulance companies operate, how you get a partner, what you do in different circumstances. Hazzard is clear about how most of the work is routine, not heroic, but doesn't dwell on the structural/societal issues that has him seeing the same people over and over.

November books! Eula Biss wrote On Immunity which I read in 2016. This one is a series of essays about America, by which Biss means Whiteness and inequality -- it is one of the smartest books about how race matters in America written by a white person with utter care and thoughtfulness. Men We Reaped, on the other hand, is a first-person account by a black woman of the way race plays out in her small Louisina hometown -- it is the story of the deaths of 5 boys she grew up one (one is her brother), and how those deaths and/or the way they were handled are a direct result of racism. When the State Meets the Street is a different sort of book -- a pretty dry (sorry) academic analysis of how frontline social service workers make use of discretion. It's interesting, but for all the observation and interviewing that that Zacka did for research, it's very low on story, which is what I find the most engaging. He has categories and archetypes, but I wanted much more example, both to make the book more interesting to read, and also to better illustrate that there are actual people doing the work of providing services on behalf of a bureaucracy.

I'm so behind on this! So here are the books I read in October of 2017. Kindred is a remarkable combination of sci-fi (time travel) and historical fiction (antebellum south) that throws a modern day black woman into slavery. Hammerhead is a charming memoir of a woman learning to be a carpenter (as the title implys). Homegoing picked up on themes from Kindred but goes in chronological order tracing decendents from slave ships to the great migration to present day urban America -- this book is pretty highly regarded but I found the one-chapter-per-character format unsatisfying storytelling. I had read Between the World and Me before, but re-read it, along with Achieving our Country for book club (a rare two-books-in-parallel month) and liked the Coates much better this time around. Interesting to pair it with Rorty, who is trying to do the same sort of thing: measure the realities of the country up to its promises. Making Rent in Bed-Stuy is another memoir, framed by all the places that Harris has lived since moving to New York; the book is rambling and unfocused, but was interesting overall. It's always nice to read something like this when you deeply understand where all the places mentioned actually are.

Book 51 of 2017. James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time. As previously mentioned: The Fire Next Time!

After hearing Roxane Gay talk about fatness on an excellent episode of This American Life, I was excited to read this book. Thinking about fatness and obesity and culture and society has been an interest of mine–these topics were a big part of my dissertation–and Gay has a really clear approach and open tone, most of the time.

Book 49 of 2017. James Baldwin, Go Tell It On The Mountain. In a weird turn of events, my academic urban studies book club picked a work of fiction! We decided to read Baldwin's The Fire Next Time, and this novelization of Baldwin's childhood at the same time.

Book 48 of 2017. What is not yours is not yours, by Helen Oyeyemi. Recommended by a friend, but I thought this was pretty boring and I just skimmed through some of the stories.