Everything I Read in February

“I wrote this before getting sick, and didn't quite get around to finishing my wrap up of the final few books of my month. I'll add them shortly, but wanted to get most of these up sooner rather than later!”

February was a blink. January, for me, was also a blink, although friends and others said it dragged. I often worry about wishing away my time (largely because I have what I fondly call my "child prodigy complex" and, like many, the sense that I'm owed two years back of my twenties) but unfortunately, many of the ventures, tasks, and dreams I love simply take the time they take—slow to the point of agony.

I've continued on my avid reading kick, compounded by the exhaustion and nervousness of finishing revising my book yet again. I ended February somewhat delirious, to tell you the truth, and the wide range of books I devoured helped to keep me grounded. I read a lot about endurance and physical challenge and fatigue, which I've realized is both a theme of my favorite books and my own life.

My reading tracker tells me I'm in the middle of about 41 books, but I finished 16 in February, averaging about a book every other day. Several books have become favorites.

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I've also read my own book five times since the start of the year—I counted this time, because I really wanted to emphasize how much you have to love it to do this—which surprised me, but I'm not sure what the split was between January and February.

“PS. In case you missed it, I released my Best Books of 2024 list via my newsletter. So sign up!”

I discovered that February was a footnote-driven month, meaning that I've gotten better at following the source. If one book mentioned a study or analysis from another and it was a topic that interested me, I'd go directly to that book to learn more. So I ended up following a few threads that unintentionally bundled certain reads or themes together. I'll share my trajectory and mind map below, but I apologize if the way my brain sorts information is overwhelming to you.

What I Read in February

• The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

Why I Read: I'd been saving this one "for a rainy day" for forever and I actually did end up reading it on a rainy day when the power was out. Library hold came in, it's obviously iconic, I generally find it helpful to study up on what's universal enough to be a bestseller of this caliber, etc,. And in my 27 years of living, I somehow (miraculously) avoided spoilers.

What Was Notable: Okay—I actually loved it. The mystery was gripping, the history and symbolism behind it was so much more involved than I expected, the atmosphere made me crave wandering through the nighttime streets of Paris, and overall, I had a grand ol' time devouring it. I also appreciate any conflict in which the villains aren't black-and-white; everyone has a different, contradictory belief.

• The Will to Change by bell hooks

Why I Read: The Da Vinci Code actually deals a lot with the symbolism of masculine and feminine energy, which ended up being a weirdly random theme in my reading this month. This book is heavy on the patriarchy buzzwords (is it awful of me to call them buzzwords?), but for some reason, I just never connect all that well to how bell hooks lays out points that I've read in other books too. I'll pretty much roll with any presentation, but worry that the tone makes the book more of an echo chamber: like those she most wants to believe her sentiment are the most likely to put it down.

The gist (how, in our society, men internalize that any emotional vulnerability makes them weaker) feels true, but I just find this particular book—or this particular flavor of gender scholarship—not to be my taste.

What Was Notable: Overall, I appreciate the value that bell hooks provides for others, but she may just not be my vibe, which is okay! This book makes some thoughtful, albeit repetitive, points. (For example, I make one of the same points as she does: that I know a few men who always call women too emotional, but also are frequently angry. They seem to think that anger doesn't count as an emotion, despite it being just as expressive.)

But that's almost counteracted by her points that go way, way too far, into some genuinely strange tangents that feel like projection (like the Harry Potter rant?), or are based off singular interactions. I almost hesitate to criticize bell hooks, but I think providing guidance on who benefits most from a book is always a good thing. I have many thoughts, but likely won't write a full review.

• Consider the Lobster by David Foster Wallace

Why I Read: I feel a lot of softness and empathy for DFW because he was so obviously brilliant, with such special, piercing insights because of the sheer amount of information he processed.

What Was Notable: Of course, I ache that he couldn't find his way out of the paradox of misunderstanding, gaps between people, cynicism, etc,. Simplifying your way out of the complexity (said as a gal who's been mind-mapping) is easier said than done, and I understand why he felt trapped in the impossibility of being understood.

I appreciate that he used his gift of articulation to be willing and able to try to word his pain well enough to reach others, although he didn't believe they would "get" him. I just hope, of course, that any who resonate with his work might see the light on the other side. The John McCain essay actually gave me shivers of awe, along with others, and I loved how the essays gave me a peek into the fascinations that shaped his insights.

• Benito Cereno by Herman Melville

Why I Read: I read and loved Moby Dick, and Benito Cereno has been on my bedside table for a few months. Clocking in at under 100 pages, I figured it would be easy to knock out in an afternoon or so. I've realized I love Herman Melville's hunger for adventure and the sharp vividness of his language—ironically a theme of DFW's!

What Was Notable: I didn't love Benito Cereno as much as Moby Dick (a bit more distant, and it is about a slave ship revolt so I had to ignore a lot), but I absolutely loved how precisely it captured how trust and distrust can so easily shift based on outcome or the current moment. You can work backward to make facts fit your feeling every time, and that speaks so much to how we construct patterns (an endless fascination of mine as someone who loves narratives. I also talk about this a lot when reviewing Cormac McCarthy!)

• This Is How You Lose Her by Junot Díaz

Why I Read: I ran a teen book club at the indie bookseller I worked at in high school, and I remember reading this. Since I've been working my way through more short stories, I wanted to revisit—because I did not remember a thing.
What Was Notable: This Is How You Lose Her is so stunningly layered. It's harsh, but certain moments absolutely shatter you (like Alice Munro) or have this bleak sense of trapped isolation more like Norwegian Wood. The relationships are complex, the characters are nuanced, and the layers of continuity connecting each story are a serious tribute to his craft. It's voicey and worth the read, but I had to go for a long, sunny walk afterwards because it affected me.

• The Attachment Effect by Peter Lovenheim

Why I Read: Y'all know I'm a psych geek, and this How to Be Multiple-esque realization that we operate in two spheres of identity (singular vs. relational, or individual vs. collective) has been helpful in understanding myself and my weird mental block/refusal around dating. Basically, you have your personality and tendencies alone and then you have your tendencies in connection: the very premise of attachment theory.

What Was Notable: Honestly, I didn't get that much more from this than Attached, so it was possibly too broad in scope and personal in analysis. But studies about the purpose of romantic connection—like how holding a partner's hand literally reduces your sensitivity to pain, etc,.—and the overwhelming negatives of self-isolation are helpful for me to stow away in my back pocket so I remember why I care enough to investigate my patterns in the first place. It's a bit easier to force myself to do it when I have "all the information."

• The Love Prescription by John Gottman, PhD and Julie Schwartz-Gottman, PhD.

Why I Read: This was actually such a funny sequence of books, because I didn't intend to read about romantic love all in one week, but my holds all came in right before Valentine's Day. Sure, it's a constant interest (because if I can understand it, surely I can be better at it), but I actually just picked this up because my friend Jen — who used to be a book reviewer — recommended it.

What Was Notable: This is more self-help-y than my usual, catered towards couples trying to be more connected over the span of a week. But the book's strength is in its analysis and studies of what actually builds longevity i.e. that resentment is one of the "Four Horseman," and kindness and gratitude are actually dose-dependent within our brains—meaning that you never hit a point of saturation in letting other people know what you appreciate about them. There's lots of good, tangible info here that makes a lot of sense in how you listen to others, support them, etc,. and what forms a genuine baseline of love and affection in any connection.

• The Science of Kissing: What Our Lips Are Telling Us by Sheril Kirshenbaum

Why I Read: This was referenced in The Love Prescription and I simply had to read it because of the mention of a fabulous long-term study in which German men who kissed their wives before work lived an average of five years longer than those who did not, and earned 20 to 30 percent more in salary. It goes into more detail, but what a fun stat. I’m not much of a casual kisser myself (tragically, I must be interested in—gasp!—your personality first), but I do adore reading about the science behind any common human activity, as if I were a little alien desperate to fit in with the Earthlings. I appreciated that the book focused on kissing instead of exclusively sex, because it varies so much as a cultural practice! We do know why people procreate, but why do they kiss?

What Was Notable: Honestly, this is a pretty easy read! It talks about everything from the color of our lips to the way kissing perception varies between men and women to scent pheromones to different types of kisses and what purpose they serve neurologically to how attitudes and cultural variants developed. There's a lot of fascinating and expansive info in here, even though it doesn't ever feel like it goes too deep. It's a fun, pop-sci-type introduction that might inspire. Fellas, go smooch your ladies. Ladies, go smooch your fellas. (Said for levity—mix and match however you feel fit!) It's also proven to be dose-dependent too i.e. the more you kiss, the better you feel.

• Moby Dick by Herman Melville

Why I Read: This was on a reading list I was working through, and I honestly got sucked into it—although it's long. It always felt like a treat to return to the eBook, and I'll have to buy my own copy.

What Was Notable: I wasn't expecting Moby Dick to be so voicey, atmospheric, or clever for some reason. I loved the undercurrent hunger and longing for the sea; there was such distinctive yearning for adventure, relish in the whaling pursuit, complicated by the tunnel vision. My favorite line was about the contrast of the pleasures, which is a theme echoed in so many of my favorite books, classics, and broader "hero's journeys"—that sense of something earned. I loved the tangents and the relationships too. And of course, I've been thinking about the paradoxes of obsession, and the isolation that results from it: choosing your familiar beliefs over the unknown, even if you know it's killing you to cling to them. What about yourself do you refuse to surrender? And of course, there's a healthy dose of fate vs. free will baked into the story too. Big fan. I'll write a full review.

• The Myth of Sisyphus: & Other Essays by Albert Camus

Why I Read: I like Camus, and I've been referencing Sisyphus endlessly lately. Plus, I've been devouring philosophy, re-pinning his quotes on my Pinterest boards, and all-in-all just really on a kick that made finally tackling this feel right. Theme of the month: library hold came in.

What Was Notable: Truthfully, I was expecting more. I did feel like I get a better grasp for Camus's beliefs through his fiction rather than this collection of essays. Although it was great, points could sometimes be dizzying and abstract in that Alan Watts way too rather than hitting the way I wanted. Overall liked though.

• The Organized Mind by Daniel J. Levitin

Why I Read: What is me organizing my brain, and what is me externalizing to the point of delirium? Especially as I exit my revision cave into the land of the living—and attempt to catch up on the bonafide mountain of responsibilities waiting on my desk—I'm of course motivated to do so in the most organized, painless, efficient way possible. A futile attempt, but there nonetheless.

What Was Notable: Levitin is so incredible at absolutely packing his books with information and value, but segueing between topics and thoughts so effortlessly that you never lose track of how it all layers together. For that reason, he's one of my favorite nonfiction writers and neuroscientists, and I really just understand so much more about my brain and habits and all after tackling his work. I loved, loved, loved everything within this book. It was enormously helpful, and definitely a favorite.

• The Finishing School by Dick Couch

Why I Read: I once knew someone heading through the pipeline. I make fun of my guy friends in the military for only speaking in acronyms, but I really do care about understanding what they care about (which is why Black Hearts is on my list, because one of them said it had a great breakdown of what various terms meant on the Army side.) So I was curious about the specificity here.

What Was Notable: I did end up with a pretty clear picture—from the outside, at least! I learned a lot, and Dick Couch was great at explaining without losing the why and the logic behind each element of the process. I liked his writing and scope enough that I continued into his other work.

• The Warrior Elite by Dick Couch

Why I Read: See above. Why keep reading Dick Couch? Because I'm masochistic enough to be continually curious, apparently. I couldn't stop myself from following the thread, even without personal relevance. On a craft level: Couch had such a phenomenal command of his coverage and clarity, so I understood a whole lot more and had a thousand questions with nowhere to put them.

What Was Notable: While I appreciated the secondary relevance of The Finishing School to my specific questions, The Warrior Elite was such a stunning microhistory that I genuinely considered whether to add it to my favorites list. It might still make the cut. That itself is worthwhile.

• Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy

Why I Read: While I love and own The Road and All the Pretty Horses, I knew I wouldn't necessarily want to own a copy of Blood Meridian. Although it was fantastic, friends who recommended it to me also warned that was graphic and nihilistic and thus not in my usual taste—likely a one-and-done, not a reread. So! Library hold came in. It was time. I waded carefully.

What Was Notable: Blood Meridian sent me spinning, and definitely was one of those horizon-defining books that made my world feel bigger. I had a lot of thoughts and analyses, and took a (rare) nap afterwards because my brain was so exhausted from the whirr. All in all, I love Cormac McCarthy's atmosphere—more the sublime and the terror of awe rather than the beauty in it, but they're two sides of the same feeling: that of vastness. Damn, y'all. The review says a lot of it.

• The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt

Why I Read: I had what I call a "Calvin & Hobbes" childhood characterized by exploring the neighborhood on bikes, playing outside, etc,. While phones were in the picture in high school—and impact our lives now—my friends, family, and I frequently agree that we're one of the last years to "escape" the profound impact we're seeing now in the younger generation. (I'm '98 so technically Gen Z—but on the cusp. As Haidt points out, it's more about those who had phones and social media during puberty than those who experienced them after.)

What Was Notable: Haidt is a polarizing figure even within my own brain. This is a fantastic book. I largely agree with it, and talk about his concepts a lot. I'll absolutely review. He incorporates awe and embodiment and connection studies and nature and all these topics I've been absolutely obsessed with for so long, tying them together into an issue relevant to the modern era—that phones are rewiring kids and we need to do something about it. I am obviously nowhere, nowhere near wanting parenthood, but I view many of these discussions as so relevant to how I'd hope to raise them.

• Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta

Why I Read: According to a blog analysis, Jellicoe Road is the book with the character (Taylor) that's most "like me." I'm not sure what to do with that information. It's a longtime favorite, always competing with Tiger Lily for the top spot of my favorites list. In consulting my reading tracker, it'd been a few years—which was a shock. So naturally, I had to reread it.

What Was Notable: I wouldn't normally recommend finishing this book on one hour of sleep, but it hit hard this time around too. It was honestly super raw (but comforting) to read directly after Blood Meridian—both works that deal a lot with how you make patterns. I will review it minimally, and I may also do an in-depth analysis because boy—lots to extrapolate there too.

Will add more maybe later! Or maybe will continue to sleep off my fever.