In Deep by Maxine Kumin

4/5 stars

What's it about? Poet Maxine Kumin talks craft and country living in this volume of essays about managing a farm in New Hampshire while maintaining a writing life. A warm hearth of a book.

How’d I find it? I picked this up at Normals Books & Records in Baltimore, which has the kind of selection that makes me say, “Ooh!” and pluck a book off the shelf that I never even knew existed.

Who will enjoy this book? In Deep is for horse girls young and old, as well as for Mary Oliver and Henry David Thoreau acolytes.

What stood out? In Deep owes much to Kumin’s admiration of Thoreau, whose influence can be seen in essays dedicated to taxonomic descriptions of mushrooms and species of cattle as well as in “The Unhandselled Globe,” which centers on Thoreau himself. Kumin rejects the Freudian links to women who love horses and gendered assumptions about her mares; she and the animals she loves are the focus here, and glimpses of her human family are brief. She writes beautifully about the day-to-day labors of keeping a farm running, from building fences to keeping everyone fed.

Which line made me feel something? From the closing essay, “A Sense of Place,” an outstanding analysis of the stamp of home on Kumin’s poetry: “In a poem one can use the sense of place as an anchor for larger concerns, as a link between narrow details and global realities. Location is where we start from. Landscape provides our first geography, the turn of the seasons are archetypes for our own mortality.”

A Line in the World by Dorthe Nors, translated by Caroline Waight

3/5 stars

What's it about? Dorthe Nors explores the forces and landscape of Denmark’s northernmost coast in this contemplative collection of essays.

How’d I find it? I learned about this book through a review in Harper’s then found a copy at Normals Books & Records, which has notably good nature writing on offer.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Roger Deakin’s Waterlog and Mary Oliver’s Upstream should try this one.

What stood out? A Line in the World captures the Jutland Peninsula and the surrounding islands in all their diversity, cultural quirks, and violent expressions of nature. You can almost feel the windslap on your cheeks in every paragraph. The book is beautifully illustrated by Signe Parkins, who appears in the essay “The Timeless.”

Which line made me feel something? From “The Tracks around Bulbjerg:” “The eternal, fertile and dread-laden stream inside us. This fundamental question: do you want to remember or forget? Either way, something will grow. A path, a scar in the mind, a sorrow that you cannot grasp, because it belongs to someone else. All that must be carried alone. All that cannot be told.”

Congratulations, the Best Is Over by R. Eric Thomas

3/5 stars

What's it about? In this charming essay collection, R. Eric Thomas returns to his native Baltimore, where he works through mental health challenges, buys his first home with his husband, weathers the pandemic, and navigates grief — heavy subjects sweetened by the author’s humor and vulnerability.

How’d I find it? I received this as a Christmas gift, but you should buy a copy from a Baltimore bookstore.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of David Sedaris and Phoebe Robinson might appreciate.

What stood out? As a recent resident of Baltimore, I delighted in Thomas’s rediscovery of his hometown. Thomas knows how to balance self-deprecating jokes with serious discussions of American life, which makes his work approachable. A standout essay is “Clap Until You Feel It,” a journey through depression to chase the feeling of an Oprah’s Favorite Things episode. Because many of the essays feel unfinished or abrupt in their transitions, I wonder how this book would have read if fleshed out as a memoir.

Which line made me feel something? “Am I my ancestors’ wildest dream? Babe, I don’t know. I’ll settle for being my ancestors’ weirdest dream. I’m the dream my ancestors had when they got indigestion.”

They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us by Hanif Abdurraqib

4/5 stars

What's it about? In this collection of essays, Hanif Abdurraqib examines how music and performance influence and are influenced by culture, race, and coming-of-age experiences, an opportunity for reflections on the author’s own upbringing in Columbus, Ohio. Probing, eloquent, and personally generous.

How’d I find it? Ever since I read this poem by Abdurraqib, I’ve been collecting everything he puts out. This copy was purchased at Solid State Books.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Jia Tolentino’s Trick Mirror, Hilton Als’ White Girls, and Roxane Gay’s writing should like They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us.

What stood out? Abdurraqib hinges his social meditations on a variety of artists —Chance the Rapper, Carly Rae Jepsen, and Fall Out Boy, to name a few —that allows him to scan an impressive breadth of subject matter, and he meets the challenge handsomely in beautifully crafted and passionate pieces. Abdurraqib’s mastery as a poet can be both a blessing and a curse in a dense book of short essays like this; his stylistic flourishes get sometimes tired during a longer reading session.

Which line made me feel something? “If you believe that it rained in Ohio on the night Allen Iverson hit Michael Jordan with a mean crossover, you will also believe that I know this by the sound that lingered in the air after my small cheering, the way rain can sometimes sound like an echo of applause if it hits a roof hard enough. You will also believe that I know this by the way an unexpected puddle can slow down a basketball’s dribble on blacktop, especially if the basketball is losing some of its traction, some of the grip that it had in its younger days.”

The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley

4/5 stars

What's it about? In three essays, Aldous Huxley dissects the visionary experience and its attainment through mind-altering drugs. Of particular enjoyment is “Heaven and Hell,” in which Huxley discusses non-pharmacological means of transcendence, such as art and breath work. Compelling, dense, and effective in its call to seek the “Mind at Large.”

How’d I find it? I came to this book through Michael Pollan’s How to Change Your Mind, a book club selection for Solid State Books.

Who will enjoy this book? In addition to those intrigued by How to Change Your Mind, this book might also appeal to readers of Eckhart Tolle.

What stood out? Huxley advocates relaxing the brain’s survival-focused filter from time to time to expand one’s perception and feel true being. In addition to the mescalin and LSD he champions, Huxley unconvincingly argues that color, light, and physical exertion can free the mind but fail to impress our oversaturated and modern sensibilities. His thoughts about how theatrics and alcohol interact with transcendence and religion seem somewhat unresearched but offer food for thought to expand one’s own ideas.

Which line made me feel something? “Visionary experience is not the same as mystical experience. Mystical experience is beyond the realm of opposites. Visionary experience is still within that realm. Heaven entails hell, and ‘going to heaven’ is no more liberation than is the descent into horror. Heaven is merely a vantage point, from which the divine Ground can be more clearly seen than on the level of ordinary individualized existence.”

Shrill by Lindy West

5/5 stars

What's it about? Lindy West reflects on the experience of being fat and female in America in a gem of an essay collection. Chock full of humor and darn good writing.

How’d I find it? As a nursing student, I am frequently on long drives between hospitals, campus, and home. Audiobooks get me through the commute. DC Library provided this one, entertaining me during traffic or while wolfing down lunch.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Mindy Kaling, Joel Golby, Rax King, and Jia Tolentino will appreciate, but probably most millennials as well? I feel like Lindy gets all my references.

What stood out? The essays "Death Wish" and "Slaying the Troll" deftly knit together wit, anguish, and sharp social commentary. You can also listen to West perform a version of "Slaying the Troll," in which she confronts an internet troll whose cruelty focuses on her late father, on This American Life. I honestly wanted to begin rereading this book the second I finished it.

Which line made me feel something? I have long struggled to pinpoint why certain jokes in comedy make me uncomfortable, and West lays it out expertly in "Death Wish:" "People...desperately want to believe that the engines of injustice run on outsized hate — stranger rapes in dark alleys, burning crossing and white hoods — but the reality is that indifference, bureaucracy, and closed-door snickers are far more plentiful fuels."

Upstream by Mary Oliver

4/5 stars

What's it about? In this collection of selected essays, Mary Oliver offers insight into her life as a reader, writer, and human. Though most of the book focuses on nature and gratitude, a section devoted to literary criticism muses on Whitman, Wordsworth, Poe, and Emerson.

How’d I find it? My spouse received this is a Christmas gift and kindly let me read it first.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Walt Whitman, Annie Dillard, Ross Gay, and Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s World of Wonders

What stood out? Essays written by poets offer a buffet of language and sentiment, and Upstream is no exception. Oliver’s love for the world is potent and infectious; after sitting with this book, you’ll want to go for a walk. I find a current of sadness that runs beneath Oliver’s measured glimpses of her own life, but this makes the simple joys she describes, such as observing a resident spider feed, all the more special. The writing can be precious at times (think 2013’s Dog Songs), but the overall warmth of the reading experience makes those moments easy to overlook.

Which line made me feel something? “Once I put my face against the body of our cat as she lay with her kittens, and she did not seem to mind. So I pursed my lips against that full moon, and I tasted the rich river of her body.” Did…Mary Oliver admit to suckling a cat?

Bluets by Maggie Nelson

5/5 stars

What's it about? Maggie Nelson plumbs the depths of her obsession with blue, of color itself, and of grief over a lost love in a knockout work that defies genre. The result is reflection rendered, a meditation of a book that succeeds in creating an immersive mood, a mind state.

How’d I find it? I was late to work, hustling down the sidewalk after finding a hard-fought parking space, and passed a Little Free Library. Well, I didn’t pass it at all. I found this.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Anne Carson's Autobiography of Red, William Carlos Williams, and Emmanuel Carrère's Lives Other Than My Own

What stood out? What a book. A slice of brilliance that had just the desired effect: a tickle in the brain that had me mulling over the words like a worry stone. The numbered paragraphs (verses?) are peppered with references to works I want to read immediately.

Which line made me feel something? “...the blue of the sky depends on the darkness of empty space behind it. As one optics journal puts it, ‘The color of any planetary atmosphere viewed against the black of space and illuminated by a sunlike star will also be blue.’ In which case blue is something of an ecstatic accident produced by void and fire.”