Books I Bought This Week

As mentioned, I've been a glutton about my on-island library lately. At the tail end of 2024, I've been absolutely on one lately with the existentialism, especially when related to art, meaning, neuroscience, etc,. I finished one reading list and found a writer or two to pursue; a book I loved referenced several others I added to the "TBR." So it goes, hunger breeding hunger.

Anyway, there are maybe two independent bookstores on O'ahu (and I've long harbored a dream of a little bookmobile traversing the North Shore—I do think it would make a killing.) One of them is in town, Da Shop, and the other is on the East Side. BookEnds Kailua operates in precarious piles and stacks, a discoverable mix of used and new titles. So on my latest visit, I stocked up and did some damage.

With the possession of a new spine bookshelf in my studio, I'm unstoppable. But my final two boxes of the books I shipped to myself at the beginning of the month are due to arrive today, so here's hoping it all somehow fits. Right now, my studio is more BOOK than GRACE, which is exactly how I like it.

Without further ado, here are the books I've bought this week (at secondhand prices, so it's less destructive than it sounds. And a business expense, technically.) I also got quite a few library books, but I'll have to talk about those in my latest currently reading summary because I absolutely devoured them.

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Recently, I've been thinking about:

The classic meme explanation. Credit / Charlie Warzel.

• self-sufficiency, solitude, isolationism, an independent sense of self, status anxiety
• emotional regulation, neurotransmitter levels, Stoicism, the ways you allow other people to affect you
• nature, awe, groundedness, flow, here-and-now processing, Pale Blue Dot
• the ideal mix of clarity and delusion, our false ideas of what's reasonable and rational, how in control or out of control we are at a given time
• perfectionism, guilt, blame, high standards, grace
• greater purpose and meaning, and casting away everything that doesn't serve your bottom line

The Books I Bought at BookEnds

Walden and Other Writings by Henry David Thoreau

Originally published in 1854, Walden; or, Life in the Woods, is a vivid account of the time that Henry D. Thoreau lived alone in a secluded cabin at Walden Pond. It is one of the most influential and compelling books in American literature. This new paperback edition-introduced by noted American writer John Updike-celebrates the 150th anniversary of this classic work. Much of Walden's material is derived from Thoreau's journals and contains such engaging pieces as "Reading" and "The Pond in the Winter" Other famous sections involve Thoreau's visits with a Canadian woodcutter and with an Irish family, a trip to Concord, and a description of his bean field. This is the complete and authoritative text of Walden-as close to Thoreau's original intention as all available evidence allows. For the student and for the general reader, this is the ideal presentation of Thoreau's great document of social criticism and dissent.

Admittedly, I'm kind of a snob about Thoreau because he talks a big talk about isolationism but then also went into town frequently for dinners and had others maintaining his household to-dos. So like: sure, nature and solitude is easy when you literally don't have to worry about much else. Think of the geese! Of course, philosophizing is a luxury; you're really only worried about meaning and all these esoteric little musings if you're not actively concerned with your survival.

But also, the hate against him seems excessive on the flip side. Plenty of people find meaning in the inspirational forces of nature without complete immersion (which is impossible for many), and part of sustainable awe means finding it in the margins?

Recently I've been thinking about fraudulence and hypocrisy, how we determine what's authentic vs. manipulated, and how much intention and delusion overshadow rationality—or vice versa. We can be awfully judgmental about how much others "deserve" to hold the beliefs they do, including the musings on nature observed in Walden, and all we are is the stories we tell ourselves. But I digress. Everyone's picking their poison, and it was time for me to go to primary source material on this one.

I love nature writing, and authors who romanticize a life in the outdoors. I've been hunting for a beautiful copy of John Muir's writings. I recently read and enjoyed Peter Matthiessen for the first time (which I'll get to below.) Mary Oliver is an inspiration to me, too—my favorite in this sub-genre.

Cute, Quaint, Hungry, and Romantic: The Aesthetics of Consumerism

Why has the ring of the telephone become a beep? What ever happened to the bumpers and fenders of cars? Why do food commercials never mention hunger?In this encyclopedia of low-brow aesthetics, Daniel Harris concentrates on the nuances of non-art, the uses of the useless, the politics of product design and advertising. We learn how advertisers exaggerate our sensual responses to eating, how close-up nature photography exaggerates the accessibility of the natural world, and how the mutated physiology of dolls invites our pity and affection.

In studying its aesthetics, we find consumerism instills disappointment rather than gratification, convincing us that our lives are deficient and wanting. If we are what we buy, then we must buy in order to be.

This one seems like it might actually make me go cross-eyed to read because the essays themselves sound a bit messy, but I of course read anything with aesthetics in the title. It was secondhand and on sale.

As a shopping writer and professional reviewer, interrogating my consumption, pleasure, and environment is always a helpful practice. In what ways does my curation reflect me or status anxiety instead (as my current read is Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton)?

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Won't Stop Talking by Susan Cain

At least one-third of the people we know are introverts. They are the ones who prefer listening to speaking; who innovate and create but dislike self-promotion; who favor working on their own over working in teams. It is to introverts—Rosa Parks, Chopin, Dr. Seuss, Steve Wozniak—that we owe many of the great contributions to society.

In
Quiet, Susan Cain argues that we dramatically undervalue introverts and shows how much we lose in doing so. She charts the rise of the Extrovert Ideal throughout the twentieth century and explores how deeply it has come to permeate our culture. She also introduces us to successful introverts—from a witty, high-octane public speaker who recharges in solitude after his talks, to a record-breaking salesman who quietly taps into the power of questions. Passionately argued, superbly researched, and filled with indelible stories of real people, Quiet has the power to permanently change how we see introverts and, equally important, how they see themselves.

I've been thinking a lot about silence lately, and its role in my life. I'm a pretty quiet person overall. After a few days with family over the holidays, I can absolutely tell you I'm an introvert at my core and need a lot of downtime after socializing for extended periods, or feeling "on," in order to be fully at ease again. I love being with family but am absolutely exhausted.

This is an older title, and I remember certain grades having to read it in college although I never did. When posting this haul on Instagram, I had a friend respond that she thinks it may be outdated because certain introversion traits are more clarified nowadays by discoveries in neurodivergence, but I'm sure there's overlap. I recently read and loved The Paradox of Choice by Barry Schwarz, which is similarly dated—recent releases probably illuminate and complicate the concepts more, but it still had plenty of value and universality.

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius

Our ability to control your thoughts—treat it with respect. It's all that protects your mind from false perceptions—false to your nature, and that of all rational beings.

A series of spiritual exercises filled with wisdom, practical guidance, and profound understanding of human behavior, Marcus Aurelius's Meditations remains one of the greatest works of spiritual and ethical reflection ever written. With bite-size insights and advice on everything from living in the world to coping with adversity and interacting with others, Meditations has become required reading not only for statesmen and philosophers alike, but also for generations of readers who responded to the straightforward intimacy of his style.

In Gregory Hays's translation—the first in nearly four decades—Marcus's thoughts speak with a new immediacy. In fresh and unencumbered English, Hays vividly conveys the spareness and compression of the original Greek text. Never before have Marcus's insights been so directly and powerfully presented.

With an Introduction that outlines Marcus's life and career, the essentials of Stoic doctrine, the style and construction of the Meditations, and the work's ongoing influence, this edition makes it possible to fully rediscover the thoughts of one of the most enlightened and intelligent leaders of any era.

After reading about Stoicism earlier in November, I've been reading a lot by the classic philosophers. So this was on my list.

I'm also, in tandem, reading The Emperor of Rome: Ruling the Ancient World by Mary Beard, which is the epitome of an airport buy and hilariously fits with the "ask your man how often he thinks of the Roman Empire" trend this year.

I'm excited to dive in! I also want to read Letters from a Stoic by Seneca because my brother thinks I'll vibe more with Seneca in terms of detachment and how to consider self-governance in relation to a crowd.

The Snow Leopard by Peter Matthiessen

In 1973, Peter Matthiessen and field biologist George Schaller traveled high into the remote mountains of Nepal to study the Himalayan blue sheep and possibly glimpse the rare and beautiful snow leopard. Matthiessen, a student of Zen Buddhism, was also on a spiritual quest to find the Lama of Shey at the ancient shrine on Crystal Mountain. As the climb proceeds, Matthiessen charts his inner path as well as his outer one, with a deepening Buddhist understanding of reality, suffering, impermanence, and beauty.

I wrote about this in my last currently reading haul so I won't go into too much repetitive detail before reviewing, but I read The Snow Leopard from the library and wanted my own copy, and the Penguin Classics version—not linked, but the orange one—is gorgeous.

All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy

The national bestseller and the first volume in Cormac McCarthy's Border Trilogy, All the Pretty Horses is the tale of John Grady Cole, who at sixteen finds himself at the end of a long line of Texas ranchers, cut off from the only life he has ever imagined for himself. With two companions, he sets off for Mexico on a sometimes idyllic, sometimes comic journey to a place where dreams are paid for in blood. Winner of the National Book Award for Fiction.

See above. I read this in the fall and adored it—easily my favorite of McCarthy's works so far—and had much to underline. Had to snag the secondhand deal. My review of All the Pretty Horses has one of my favorite lines I've ever written in it; guess which one.

End of the Earth: Voyaging to Antarctica by Peter Matthiessen

End of the Earth brings to life the waters of the richest whale feeding grounds in the world, the wandering albatross with its 11-foot wingspan arching through the sky, and the habits of every variety of seal, walrus, petrel, and penguin in the area, all with boundless and contagious inquisitiveness. Magnificently written, the book evokes an appreciation and sympathy for a region as harsh as it is beautiful.

I haven't read this one, but immediately saw and snagged it for about $6. It's now sitting above my bed, and I can't wait for the soothing quiet winter atmosphere of Antarctica.

Matthiesen's style is more observational than internal, which may go a long way in cultivating that serene atmosphere in a way complementing the reverse seen in Silence: In an Age of Noise by Erling Kagge, which I recently reviewed.

The Festival of Insignificance by Milan Kundera

Casting light on the most serious of problems and at the same time saying not one serious sentence; being fascinated by the reality of the contemporary world and at the same time completely avoiding realism--that's The Festival of Insignificance. Readers who know Milan Kundera's earlier books know that the wish to incorporate an element of the "unserious" in a novel is not at all unexpected of him. In Immortality, Goethe and Hemingway stroll through several chapters together talking and laughing. And in Slowness, Vera, the author's wife, says to her husband: "you've often told me you meant to write a book one day that would have not a single serious word in it...I warn you: watch out. Your enemies are lying in wait."

Kundera is finally and fully realizing his old aesthetic dream in this novel that we could easily view as a summation of his whole work. A strange sort of summation. Strange sort of epilogue. Strange sort of laughter, inspired by our time, which is comical because it has lost all sense of humor. What more can we say? Nothing. Just read.

Milan Kundera was probably the first classic writer I ever truly jived with and sought out. After reading (and running a book club on) The Unbearable Lightness of Being in college, I found Slowness and The Book of Laughter and Forgetting and others. The Festival of Insignificance is one of the few I hadn't collected yet, and I love the volume's design and all too.

I'll read it soon; it's short, and Kundera feels so readable to me. It sounds like in this one he just gets a little weird, which I'm down for.