2024 Book Review
Another year, another one of my year-end book review lists — except this time, it’s different. This marks my fifth year reflecting on my annual reading. In past years, I’ve experimented with themes like analyzing my reading habits or explaining why I chose certain books. What I haven’t done — something readers of previous posts have pointed out — is actually reflect on the books themselves. What were they about? Were they any good? Should you read them too?
This year I decided to switch things up. Instead of focusing exclusively on why I read certain books, I challenged myself to write a one-paragraph reflection on each. Not only was this a helpful exercise in distilling what stuck with me and why, but I hope it’s also more useful for anyone looking for their next great read.
Below you’ll find the full list of books in the order I read them. You might notice recurring themes — like how a trip to Greece sparked a fascination with Greek mythology or how another trip to Japan led to explorations of Japanese mystery novels and the philosophy of ikigai. While I didn’t focus heavily on those themes, it is worth acknowledging that these fifty-two books (maintaining a book a week as a new parent!) reflects my many personal fascinations of the year.
With that, I invite you to dive into my (admittedly long) review of the books I read in 2024. Look out for this year’s top 5:
- The Mythos Collection: Mythos (25), Heroes (37), and Troy (47) by Stephen Fry. Yes, I cheated and grouped three books together — but they deserve it!
- Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World (24) by Pádraig Ó Tuama
- Midnight’s Children (35) by Salman Rushdie
- The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness (18) by Jonathan Haidt
- James: A Novel (28) by Percival Everett
Honorable Mentions: The Psychology of Money: Timeless Lessons on Wealth, Greed, and Happiness (15) by Morgan Housel , Why Does the World Exist?: An Existential Detective Story (26) by Jim Holt , Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (29) by John Berendt , The Devil’s Highway (40) by Luis Alberto Urrea , How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen (46) by David Brooks.
Enjoy!
1. In Case of Emergency by Mahsa Mohebali (2021, Fiction, Novel, Iran 🇮🇷, 168 pages): I had never read a book by an Iranian author, but my local bookstore (Fabulosa Books) had this novel amongst their staff picks. The narrative follows the story of a girl who hops from one situation to the next trying to score opium and drugs (I didn’t realize how rampant drug use was in Iran). In the backdrop Tehran is experiencing a series of relentless earthquakes that are destroying buildings and creating a pressure cooker of emotions amongst the citizenry. Given the easily-drawn connection between people taking to the streets and Iran’s government as well as the heavy focus on drug use, sex, and offensive language — I’m amazed this ever got past the country’s censors. But it did, and it’s been a hit there since and a unique insight into a part of the world most Americans don’t know much about.
2. The Drought by J.G. Ballard (1964, Fiction, Novel, UK 🇬🇧, 240 pages): While I was studying abroad at the London School of Economics in college, I had the privilege of taking a class with the brilliant and funny Professor Christopher Coker (who sadly passed in 2023). He effortlessly connected pop culture and literature with his specialty: international relations. When he learned of my passion for books during office hours, he offered a list of titles he felt too many people overlook — Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, Joris-Karl Huysmans’s Against Nature, and anything by J.G. Ballard. Ballard in particular has become a favorite author of mine, a writer who examines a range of near-term futures that all uniquely break down the human psyche. In High-Rise, a sterile modern apartment complex devolves along class lines. In Concrete Island, a man starts a new life after he’s stranded in the median between London highways. Crash (also a famous movie) follows car crash fetishists, while Cocaine Nights is about a murder in a once-sleepy Spanish retirement community. The Drought is an earlier Ballard novel that explores what happens to a small English town when all the planet’s water starts drying up. It followed his preceding novel The Drowned World where the earth is conversely inundated by a tropical flood. A really worthwhile and strange read, The Drought is inspired partially by this surrealist Yves Tanguy painting:
3. The Guns of August by Barbara W. Tuchman (1962, Non-Fiction, History, US 🇺🇸, 511 pages): Barbara Tuchman won the Pulitzer Prize for General Non-Fiction in 1963 for her masterful history of World War I (she is one of only two authors to win the award twice). In the early sections (“A Funeral” and “Plans”), we’re introduced to the leading military and statesman of the era as well as their respective military strategies (e.g. Germany’s Schlieffen Plan, France’s Plan XVII). All the belligerents seem eager for a fight due to colonial ambitions, nationalism, hurt egos, pride (the French really believed their fighting élan could overcome an enemy’s superior resources and weaponry…), or some combination of those. Almost all the leaders naively believed they would be the ones to gain glory by winning a short and decisive war — as advanced by the idolized military strategist Carl von Clausewitz. As Tuchman navigates the war’s opening battles (the Siege of Liège, Battle of Mons, burning of Louvain, Battle of Tannenberg, etc.), it becomes clear that all the egos and parlor-room planning of the earlier chapters leads to nothing but snowballing destruction that will stretch across the continent for years. Perhaps Denzel Washingon’s character in Crimson Tide best summed up what Clausewitz failed to say and WWI proved: “The true nature of war is to serve itself.”
4. Liar’s Poker by Michael Lewis (1989, Non-Fiction, Memoir, US 🇺🇸, 256 pages): I enjoy almost everything Michael Lewis writes. Whether he’s writing about areas where I’ve worked (Wall Street, Silicon Valley), moments that have impacted my life (COVID-19, subprime mortgage crisis), or favorite pastimes (baseball), he brings a perceptive eye, a sly wit, and an ability to simplify complex subjects. I’ve known about his first book — Liar’s Poker — for a while, but never got around to reading it until this year. Talking about his bond sales job at Solomon Brothers in the 1980s both gave me a glimpse into a decade of decadence that was just before my time and reminded me of my own first job working in investment banking. His stories from the trading floor will make you laugh, gasp in disbelief, and cringe. At the same time, you’ll learn about the origins of the mortgage bond market, why Solomon Brothers doesn’t exist any more, and the reasons Lewis traded his Wall Street money-printing job to become a writer in the first place.
5. Fractured: Why Our Societies Are Coming Apart and How We Put Them Back Together Again by Jon Yates (2021, Non-Fiction, Social Science, UK 🇬🇧, 352 pages): Coming on the back of the pandemic, Jon Yates takes a deep look at modern society’s isolating effects and general lack of connectivity. While technology has made it easier than ever to transport people and ideas, most of us end up in echo chambers with people who mirror ourselves — by race, socioeconomic status, education, and age. Yates dubs this problem “People Like Me” syndrome (PLM) and explores past events (e.g. WWII), recent events (e.g. Brexit), and generational data to compare, contrast, and draw conclusions about the disconnected, homogenous experience of people’s lives today. In the later part of the book, he looks at examples (e.g. Nordic countries) and policies to fight back against this tide. It was a great read and felt like a conversational partner to Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone from (from 2023 reading list) and US Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy’s Together: The Healing Power of Human Connection in a Sometimes Lonely World (from 2020 list).
6. The White Album by Joan Didion (1979, Non-Fiction, Essays, US 🇺🇸, 222 pages): My two homes are West Virginia and California. The former is where I grew up, and there will always be a magical and comfortable quality to the Appalachian Mountains. The latter is the home that my wife and I have chosen in adulthood. I wanted to learn more about the state, but also read great writing. Enter Joan Didion. I read two of her books last year (Play It As It Lays, The Year of Magical Thinking) and caught glimpses of California through both. The White Album is a collection of Didion’s 1960s-1970s essays for Life, Esquire, and other magazines with the Golden State featuring prominently. Topics range from the new governor’s mansion in Sacramento to California’s water supply system to the cultural figures of the era (The Doors, Doris Lessing, etc.). Each essay is rich in detail and description, and I felt a deeper appreciation for California after reading it.
7. The Final Curtain (The Kyoichiro Kaga Series, 4) by Keigo Higashino (2013, Fiction, Mystery, Japan 🇯🇵, 400 pages): I started Keigo Higashino’s mystery series last year and was back for the just-released fourth translated installment (note: the Kaga series has 9 books and 1 short story collection in Japanese and this book came out 10 years earlier there). Detective Kaga is back in action uncovering what’s behind a series of mysterious deaths in the Nihonbashi district of Tokyo. Are the deaths connected? Is a multiple murderer at large? What even is the identity of one of the victims? As usual for Higashino, there’s more to these deaths than first appears. And this time, there’s a potential and uncanny connection to Kaga’s own past at play. With methodical plotting Higashino leads us deeper into the mystery and his detective’s world.
8. Burning Down the House: How Libertarian Philosophy Was Corrupted by Delusion and Greed by Andrew Koppelman (2022, Non-Fiction, Political Science, US 🇺🇸, 320 pages): Much of people’s experience with modern libertarianism suffers from hearing a caricature of a political philosophy delivered by TV talking heads. Andrew Koppelman — a professor of law and political science at Northwestern University — sets out to demystify this realm of political thought and trace how the history of libertarianism morphed from Friedrich Hayek’s original outline (which included more government services for those who need it than exits in America today) to the Ron Paul’s of modern US politics. There are deep dives into fundamental legal principles and philosophy around what constitutes property, externalities, and labor — and he deftly shows the flaws in thinkers like Ayn Rand. It’s a really well-written and even-handed approach to why this philosophy has such staying power and how to think through its different incantations critically.
9. Murder on the Books (Modern Midwife Mysteries, Book 3) by Christine Knapp (2023, Fiction, Mystery, US 🇺🇸, 269 pages): In the third installment of Christine Knapp’s mystery series set in idyllic New England, midwife and amateur detective Maeve is back in action after discovering the body of the local librarian dead with the scent of almonds on her breath. When foul play is declared, Maeve must balance the demands of her imminent pregnancy while getting to the bottom of the case. Filled with memorable characters — including a local florist and her corgi named Amber and Nugget respectively (yes, inspired by my wife and corgi!) — this was a fun and cozy book to read during another season of atmospheric rivers in wintertime San Francisco. I hear a character may be named after our son in the next installment, and I’ll be there to find out!
10. The Dangerous Summer by Ernest Hemingway (1985, Non-Fiction, Memoir, US 🇺🇸, 240 pages): Hemingway has been one of my favorite authors from the moment I finished A Farewell To Arms when I was fifteen. Much has been said about his iceberg style of writing — simple prose glimpsing a wellspring of ideas and motions below the surface — but I have also loved the people, places, and situations where he turned this talented lens. The Dangerous Summer is a posthumous, non-fiction work originally written as a long essay for Life about Hemingway’s travels around Spain during the bullfighting season of 1959. The account follows the heated rivalry between the older, renowned bullfighter Luis Miguel Dominguín and his up-and-coming rival Antonio Ordóñez — who is also Dominguín’s brother-in-law. Filled with beautiful descriptions of Spain and bullfighting, Hemingway follows these two men along their inexorable and dangerous course towards a mano-a-mano showdown — and brings their humanness to its fullest expression in the ring. I loved it. Note: James Michener provides a short and valuable introduction that covers many bullfighting terms for the non-aficionado.
11. Emperor: A New Life of Charles V by Geoffrey Parker (2019, Non-Fiction, Biography, UK 🇬🇧, 716 pages): The political machinations of the long-serving sovereigns Emperor Charles V (Spain, Austria, Netherlands, Holy Roman Empire; 1500–1558), King Francis I (France; 1494–1547), King Henry VIII (England; 1491–1547), and Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent (Ottoman Empire; 1494–1566) defined much of the modern Europe we know today. Most of my reading of this era however hasn’t centered on these figures, but rather on the Enlightenment and Age of Exploration which were going on concurrently. This biography of Charles V served as an entrypoint into the political arena of the era and its constant border changes. Much of this era’s history is a never-ending cycle of how kings taxed their subjects to bash it out for a piece of land or perceived “birthright.” Yawn. I’m glad democracy re-emerged in the American and French Revolutions a few centuries later to do away with the dubious system of aristocratic rule by bloodlines, marriages, and wars. I learned a lot from this book about Charles V and how he handled moments of political and religious upheaval and how he debated the pros and cons of his major decisions — but I did not enjoy it.
12. A Fever in the Heartland: The Ku Klux Klan’s Plot to Take Over America, and the Woman Who Stopped Them by Timothy Egan (2023, Non-Fiction, History, US 🇺🇸, 432 pages): This book made me mad, it made my skin scrawl, and it forced me to learn about something uncomfortable in our country’s history. Timothy Egan’s investigative narrative focuses on a hushed-up era of the US where the re-born and sprawling apparatus of the Ku Klux Klan infiltrated state and local politics in the early 20th century. In northern states — particularly highly-white Indiana — the KKK found fertile ground for its message of hate and white power by twisting it into something palatable to the state’s small towns and large cities alike. Egan examines the KKK’s sometimes silent and sometimes loud rise to power and the many state institutions — judicial, legislative, executive, police, etc. — that fell into its blood-soaked grip. Indiana’s demagogic Klan leader — more snake oil salesman and sociopath — finds himself the most powerful man in the state with aspirations of the US Presidency before a murder charge finally brings him down.
13. The Hunter by Tana French (2024, Fiction, Mystery, US 🇺🇸 — Ireland 🇮🇪, 480 pages): Tana French is one of my favorite mystery writers today, and I look forward to any of her new releases. The Hunter is her second novel to focus on Cal Hooper, a retired Chicago cop who moves to the small town of Ardnakelty in rural western Ireland. While Hooper might think he’s in for some quiet retirement time centered on carpentry, he instead finds himself surrounded by a colorful cast of locals and a web of intrigue boiling below the town’s placid surface. And (not surprisingly given the genre!) Hooper finds himself again confronting a murder that forces him to deploy his considerable skills in untangling things amidst the insular local politics. This time, however, his stakes are higher. Trey Reddy, a local girl whose won Cal’s paternalistic fondness and protection, is more involved in things than he’d like. It’s been said that French has a skill for bringing a Western sense of genre to her Irish stories, and I found that to be the case here. While the mystery and story itself grabbed me less than the first book in this storyline — The Searcher — I enjoyed each conversation between Hooper and the locals where every line has subtext to its subtext to its subtext. A fun read!
14. The French Revolution: From Enlightenment to Tyranny by Ian Davidson (2016, Non-Fiction, History, US 🇺🇸, 352 pages): I believe that the US’s democratic revolution and War of Independence is one of the crucible moments in human history. The country’s founders took the ideals of the Enlightenment and forged a new system of government where sovereignty rested in the people instead of a royal house or blood lineage. It’s not perfect, but it created a framework to continuously evolve — and ultimately endure — over centuries. There are some parts of the American story — e.g. starting in a new land without residual cultural entanglements — that made it ripe for these seeds, and it’s a topic I return to again and again. The same can not be said of Europe’s terrifying second act in democratic uprisings: the French Revolution. The French revolutionaries started with the lofty Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen. It was a bold statement whose impact lasted longer than the revolution it spawned. The revolution itself ultimately couldn’t escape France’s deeply felt sense of religion, class, and identity. Ian Davidson, the Financial Times’ chief foreign affairs columnist, writes a no-nonsense, fact-based history of the French Revolution and its aftermath. He takes us through the major players and key moments of the revolution — including the fall of the French monarchy, the fall of the Girondin political group to the Montagnards, the establishment of the Committee of Public Safety, the Reign of Terror, and the ultimate fall of Robespierre (a lot of falls and deaths!). Davidson doesn’t go for a single organizing theme or key protagonist — and he doubts there is one. Instead he tells the Revolution like it happened, with only minimal editorialization, succinctly and perhaps a little dryly. The story is messy and fascinating.
15. The Psychology of Money: Timeless Lessons on Wealth, Greed, and Happiness by Morgan Housel (2020, Non-Fiction, Economics, US 🇺🇸, 256 pages): Collective Fund venture capitalist Morgan Housel caught my attention last year with his book Same as Ever: A Guide to What Never Changes. It was a deeply thoughtful book on the parts of history and human behavior that never seem to change despite the rapid pace of advancement all around us. In The Psychology of Money, Housel brings these same strengths to bear on people’s relationship with money. As he shows again and again, human financial behavior is almost always guided more by emotions than rationality. If we want to build towards true financial freedom, it’s about understanding these emotions and constructing a game that we can win in the long-run. While I’m familiar with many of his lessons from other books and sources, Housel’s prose is so logical, personal, and enjoyable that I feel like this one will stick with me the longest. Highly recommended for anyone thinking about their own financial outlook and wanting to feel in control of their financial well-being.
16. Burn Book: A Tech Love Story by Kara Swisher (2024, Non-Fiction, Memoir, US 🇺🇸, 320 pages): I live in San Francisco with a career in product development. I previously lived in New York and worked in finance. Before all that, I grew up in West Virginia and remember life before the Internet. I think these three experiences have given me a faceted and deep appreciation of technology. I’m amazed by the product opportunities and thoughtful about the investment required while maintaining a healthy arms-distance perspective of going too deep into the “tech scene” mindset — particularly if things sound like echo chamber or hype loop. Kara Swisher is a technology writer who meshes technology, business, and tech ecosystem candor together with ease. It’s no wonder I’ve enjoyed her work for years. In Burn Book, she tells a personal narrative of her entrance into technology reporting and her evolving relationship with companies, founders, employers, and more over the years. It’s honest, it’s funny, and it’s a fun ride into the mind of a person who probably knows the tech world as well as anyone. And, yes, there are plenty of personal anecdotes about the tech visionaries and man-children to make you smile, cringe, and laugh in equal measure.
17. Revolutions in American Music: Three Decades That Changed a Country and Its Sounds by Michael Broyles (2024, Non-Fiction, History, US 🇺🇸, 448 pages): My father is both an avid guitar player and record collector, and I grew up in a home filled with music. If something existed before 1980, my father probably (a) had it on vinyl and (b) knew more about it than any other person I knew. In particular, he had a special affinity for some of the most iconic American music genres — blues, rock n’ roll, jazz, soul, and country — and I grew up with Howlin’ Wolf, Slim Harpo, Chuck Berry, and Aretha Franklin playing regularly. Just before his stroke, he and I had started adventuring deeper into the American musical past by listening to the Great American Songbook and Tin Palley Alley recordings (made much easier by the internet!). When I saw Michael Broyles’s book Revolutions in American Music, I hoped I would get a history of this earlier era of American creativity — and I did. Broyles focuses on three revolutionary eras — the 1840’s, the 1920s, and the 1950s — and how each made a leap into something new by building off of something old. He seamlessly connects the many leaps in American music from minstrel shows to the modern day (although the book does abruptly and unfortunately end at the beginning of the British Invasion and ignores anything after — like punk, rap, or grunge). I learned a ton and found myself listening to a ton of new music, like John Cage’s Taoism inspired Williams Mix (1952/1953) which was the beginning of electronic music and synthesizer.
18. The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness by Jonathan Haidt (2024, Non-Fiction, Psychology, US 🇺🇸, 400 pages): Jonathan Haidt, a social psychologist and professor at NYU’s Stern School of Business, is renowned for his insightful analyses of societal wellbeing and generational differences in emotional health. In his latest book, which sparked a media firestorm upon its release in early 2024, Haidt examines how Millennials, Gen Z, and now Gen Alpha have been caught in a perfect storm fueling widespread anxiety. Millennials were shaped by the “stranger danger” fears of the 1980s and 1990s, influencing their protective parenting styles. Their children face even greater challenges as in-person connections — essential for building resilience — are increasingly replaced by digital interactions. The result is a troubling surge of anxiety among younger generations. Haidt offers controversial solutions centered on encouraging earlier independence — like letting kids walk to school alone and delaying smartphone access until well into the teenage years — ideas that drew both support and criticism. Reading this book with my San Francisco book club, which includes many new and expectant parents, sparked an evening of deep and candid discussions. I’m grateful it opened the door to such honest conversations about this vital and complex issue.
19. A Man by Keiichiro Hirano (2018, Fiction, Novel, Japan 🇯🇵, 301 pages): The book begins with a husband’s sudden death in an accident. His wife Rie is soon shocked to discover that he wasn’t who he claimed to be — he had assumed another man’s identity. Determined to uncover the truth, Rie enlists the help of lawyer Akira Kido to untangle this intriguing mystery. As Kido investigates, he delves into a shadowy world where identities are bought, sold, and traded like masks, exposing a network of people seeking to escape or reinvent their pasts. The closer Kido gets to the truth, the more the story shifts from a straightforward mystery to an exploration of identity and its meaning. The philosophical depth was unexpected, but it added a welcome layer of complexity to the narrative.
20. Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life by Héctor García & Francesc Miralles (2017, Non-Fiction, Self-Improvement, Spain 🇪🇸, 208 pages): This year, I was fortunate to travel back to Japan with my wife and son, a trip that deepened my appreciation for Japanese culture, customs, and philosophy. Like the Spanish authors of this book, I’ve gradually embraced elements of Japanese life, from the preparation of green tea to minimalist interior design. This book delves into ikigai, the Japanese concept of aligning passion, mission, vocation, and skill to find purpose and lead a balanced, fulfilling life. The authors explore how ikigai contributes to the extraordinary longevity of Okinawa’s residents, where people live longer than anywhere else in the world. They also highlight practical tips like hara hachi bu — the practice of eating until about 80% full — to promote overall health and wellness. For anyone seeking alignment and a healthier way of living, this book is well worth exploring.
21. The Power of Strangers: The Benefits of Connecting in a Suspicious World by Joe Keohane (2021, Non-Fiction, Social Science, US 🇺🇸, 352 pages): This book rests on three main ideas: (1) Humans live richer lives when they interact with strangers and form “loose” social connections in their daily routines, (2) over the past century, fear of strangers — fueled by concepts like “stranger danger” — has led people to overestimate the risks of new interactions, and (3) we now live in a state of pluralistic ignorance about strangers, where most people want to connect but mistakenly believe others don’t. Joe Keohane shines a light on these misconceptions and offers a hopeful path forward, rediscovering the joy and value of talking to strangers. Alongside exploring the academic research, Keohane embarks on his own journey to become better at engaging with people. By the end, I found myself seeing my neighborhood and community differently, realizing how many potential connections I had been overlooking. This book was a wonderful push to start those conversations.
22. Concerning the Spiritual in Art by Wassily Kandinsky (1910, Non-Fiction, Art, Russia 🇷🇺, 96 pages): I serve on the board of a wonderful artists’ studio in San Francisco called Root Division. This past year, our family also became members of SF MOMA. I’ve always enjoyed art and have developed a familiarity with various periods and artists through visits to museums and galleries around the world. However, while I can describe certain styles, I’ve rarely delved into the theoretical foundations behind them — beyond what’s written on museum wall placards. That curiosity led me to read Wassily Kandinsky’s Concerning the Spiritual in Art. I’ve generally liked Kandinsky’s art and the book’s length made it approachable. Kandinsky boldly argues — manifesto-style — that art’s primary purpose is to evoke inner emotions and elevate consciousness, with the representation of reality being secondary. He emphasizes the essential roles of color and form in communicating an artist’s spiritual vision to the viewer, positioning abstract art as the pinnacle of artistic expression. While it wasn’t my favorite read this year, it deepened my understanding of this transformative period in art history.
23. The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yoko Ogawa (2006, Fiction, Novel, Japan 🇯🇵, 192 pages): This was a sweet and moving story built on a simple premise: a young caregiver is hired to look after an aging mathematician who, due to an accident years earlier, suffers from severe memory loss. His condition and his eccentric, math-obsessed mind have driven away previous caregivers, but the protagonist and her son manage to connect with him through patience and genuine care. In turn, the professor’s unique perspective begins to profoundly impact their lives as well. While the book is brief, it has its share of poignant moments, though the plot felt a bit too contrived for my personal taste.
24. Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World by Pádraig Ó Tuama (2022, Fiction, Poetry, Ireland 🇮🇪, 384 pages): I find poetry to be one of the most rewarding and difficult reading experiences. A great poem says so much with so little. It’s the reason poems are recited at weddings, funerals, and other big life moments — when they hit, they hit. Conversely, reading poems is hard. It’s easy to get lost in a book of poems — e.g. what’s the right pace? If you read too many too quickly, you lose their essence. A friend asked if they should spend time on a particular poem like it’s the hit single on a greatest hits compilation or read all of them together. It’s also not fun to spend too long on each poem: it starts to feel like you’re back in school, analyzing the poem more than enjoying it. Pádraig Tuama masterfully balances all of the above in Poetry Unbound. He guides readers through 50 amazing poems that we’d be unlikely to encounter otherwise. After each poem, he adds just enough commentary and reflection to explain the poem’s construction and offer ideas on how to interpret it. I hope there are more books like this to come — it helped me discover poetry all over again in a really beautiful way.
25. Mythos: A Retelling of the Myths of Ancient Greece (Stephen Fry’s Greek Mythos, Vol. 1) by Stephen Fry (2017, Non-Fiction, History, UK 🇬🇧, 352 pages): If you could design the perfect teacher for learning a new subject, you’d likely want someone incredibly knowledgeable, approachable, and engaging — essentially, a “cool professor.” That’s exactly what Stephen Fry delivers in his Mythos series. Fry’s deep love and understanding of Greek mythology shine through, but what makes him exceptional is his ability to make these ancient tales both accessible and entertaining, often drawing comparisons to modern phenomena like the Marvel Cinematic Universe. As a seasoned performer, Fry breathes life into the stories with a flair few can match, blending his trademark wit and charm with expert storytelling (not surprising for someone chosen to narrate Harry Potter and Sherlock Holmes audiobooks). In the first three installments — Mythos (focusing on the gods), Heroes (detailing mortal adventurers), and Troy (retelling the Trojan War) — Fry navigates the complexities and contradictions of Greek mythology with humor and warmth, even preemptively consoling listeners about the overwhelming number of names they won’t need to remember. Inspired by my excitement for an upcoming trip to Greece, I discovered this series and ended up diving headfirst into the endlessly fascinating world of Greek myths. It was a joyful, enriching experience, and I can’t recommend it highly enough.
26. Why Does the World Exist?: An Existential Detective Story by Jim Holt (2012, Non-Fiction, Philosophy, US 🇺🇸, 320 pages): Jim Holt begins this book by arguing that Leibniz asked perhaps the most important question for mankind to ever ponder: “Why is there something rather than nothing?” Holt takes readers on an intellectual journey as he explores this enigma, engaging with scientists, philosophers, theologians, and other thinkers to examine a wide range of fascinating theories. While he doesn’t arrive at a definitive answer to this ultimate question (wouldn’t that be nice!), the journey itself is deeply rewarding. The book invites readers to ponder existence with the care and curiosity it deserves, leaving them enriched by the experience. A truly fantastic read!
27. Vernon Subutex 3 by Virginie Despentes (2017, Fiction, Novel, France 🇫🇷, 384 pages): This book marks the conclusion of the Vernon Subutex trilogy. And for a series that began with such explosive energy, it ends on a rather muted note. The first book hooked me — Despentes’ sharp, acerbic writing and incisive character studies were like a rapid-fire assault of dark humor on contemporary French life. For me, the plot — which is loose at best — was secondary to the brilliance of her prose. However, the second book relied on the same approach, and by the time I reached this final installment, I found myself yearning for a more cohesive narrative. The third book’s reliance on heavy violence and its bizarre, futuristic epilogue left me confused, making for a conclusion that felt less satisfying than the trilogy’s promising start.
28. James: A Novel by Percival Everett (2024, Fiction, Novel, US 🇺🇸, 320 pages): A few years ago I read Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, one of the most famous and enduring American novels (it is regularly a contender for the title “The Great American Novel”). Reading the story as a middle schooler, it felt like an adventure — albeit dated and strange. As an adult, there was so much more story to understand beneath the vernacular — the racism and duplicity at the heart of the antebellum South. Percival Everett goes one step further in the narrative: he imagines the story told from the point-of-view of Huck’s friend and slave, Jim. But rather than stick to the “Jim” of the original, Everett’s Jim James is an intelligent and thoughtful man who hides behind the facade of an ignorant slave. While “Jim” speaks “slave” and appears docile in the presence of dangerous white characters, the real “James” dreams of conversations with Rousseau, Voltaire and Locke on the nature of freedom and natural rights. Through this lens, James and Huck’s re-imagined adventure on the Mississippi becomes more dangerous, subversive, and nuanced. A stellar retelling!
29. Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt (1994, Non-Fiction, True Crime, US 🇺🇸, 389 pages): A few years ago, my wife and I traveled to Savannah for a friend’s wedding. Alongside the wedding festivities, I joined a walking tour of the city that included several stops at “spooky” locations — a perfect fit for Savannah’s hauntingly beautiful aesthetic, with its Spanish moss-draped oaks and storied Southern charm. Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, a runaway hit from the mid-1990s, captures that same eerie allure. The book centers on the killing of Danny Hansford and the trial of the flamboyant antiques dealer Jim Williams for his murder. Beyond the gripping details of the case, Berendt paints a vivid portrait of Savannah and its eclectic inhabitants, making the city and its characters as enthralling as the crime itself. It’s a captivating blend of true crime and Southern Gothic storytelling.
30. A Happy Death by Albert Camus (1971, Fiction, Novel, France 🇫🇷, 208 pages): I enjoy reading Camus because he challenges me to think so profoundly. And his quote at the end of The Myth of Sisyphus — “One must imagine Sisyphus happy” — is an all-timer. A Happy Death is a lesser-known work, Camus’ first novel which was published posthumously in 1971. The story follows Mersault, a man who kills a bedridden wealthy man and steals his fortune. He reasons that happiness requires money, and the rich man can’t enjoy it anyway. The novel then traces Mersault’s life in Algeria and his various relationships as he pursues his idea of happiness. While not particularly memorable as a standalone work, it’s fascinating for the glimpses it offers into themes and ideas that Camus would later refine in his masterpiece, The Stranger.
31. 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene (1998, Non-Fiction, Psychology, US 🇺🇸, 480 pages): This is one of those books that seems to appear on every “must-read” list, so I finally decided to give it a shot. In The 48 Laws of Power, Robert Greene offers a brutally pragmatic guide to gaining and maintaining power, drawing from a diverse range of historical examples — from European royal courts and Chinese battlefields to the American Wild West. Greene emphasizes that influencing others and bending them to your will requires strategy, skill, and a complete detachment from sentimentality. While I found the book informative and appreciated its memorable anecdotes, I couldn’t help feeling uneasy about its amoral approach. The way it sidesteps any ethical considerations about who should wield power and why makes it troubling that so many people treat this book as a definitive playbook for success.
32. Beauty and Sadness by Yasunari Kawabata (1963, Fiction, Novel, Japan 🇯🇵, 206 pages): I first encountered Yasunari Kawabata when I read Snow Country in college. Kawabata, the first Japanese author to receive the Nobel Prize, struck me with his ability to convey profound emotions through lyrical softness and silence. Though the story contains little action, every interaction hums with tension and electricity. In his 1963 novel Beauty and Sadness — written nearly three decades later — Kawabata once again explores the intricate, hidden depths within human connections. The plot follows Oki Toshio, a middle-aged, celebrated writer, who reconnects with his former lover Otoko Ueno after years apart. While their past provided Oki with material for the novel that catapulted him to fame, it left Otoko deeply scarred. Now an artist, Otoko is accompanied by her fiercely possessive protégée, Keiko, who seeks revenge against Oki and his family. Though Keiko’s actions drive much of the drama, her motivations felt less compelling than I expected from Kawabata. For me, the true heart of the novel lay in the haunting and complex bond between Otoko and Oki.
33. Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche (1885, Non-Fiction, Philosophy, Germany 🇩🇪, 328 pages): “God is dead.” If he was looking to garner attention for his revolutionary approach to philosophy, Friedrich Nietzsche would be hard-pressed to have found three more powerful words. Thus Spoke Zarathustra is the source of this statement and a canonical work in philosophy that introduced many of Nietzsche’s ideas to the world. The book is technically a novel, albeit with the thinnest of plots ever which largely centers on the title character Zarathustra talking to people via teachings. But within this outline of this “story” Nietzsche introduces ideas like the death of God, the Übermensch, and eternal recurrence. All of these ideas point towards the philosopher’s celebration of individualism and challenge for humankind to embrace creative self-determination while dropping all the things (like religion) that keep it shackled. While I was familiar with most of his concepts already, it was a determined challenge to read them from their narrative source. I will emphasize the challenge part of this statement again: this was not a particularly fun read given the author’s preferred (and frustrating) writing style.
34. Autocracy, Inc.: The Dictators Who Want to Run the World by Anne Applebaum (2024, Non-Fiction, Political Science, US 🇺🇸, 272 pages): I saw this book mentioned on a number of news sites in their “best of” sections including The Economist. When I saw that Applebaum was also the 2004 Pulitzer Prize for General Nonfiction, I decided to give it a whirl. In this work, Applebaum presents a compelling argument that autocratic governments — despite their differing ideologies and unique contexts — have formed a covert, mutually supportive network over recent decades. While each regime’s primary objective is to maintain power, they achieve this more effectively by collaborating with other authoritarian states. The result is a growing alliance of autocratic nations, economically and militarily interconnected, united by a shared adversary: democratic and liberal countries that threaten their grip on power. Applebaum not only lays out this disturbing shift in global dynamics but also reveals just how successful these autocrats have been in advancing their agenda.
35. Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie (1981, Fiction, Novel, India 🇮🇳-UK 🇬🇧, 446 pages): I’ve found so many great books among the Booker Prize/Man Booker Prize lists that it feels like I should have read the novel that marked Salman Rushdie’s explosion onto the literary scene already. It not only won the 1981 Booker Prize, but also the 1993 Booker of Bookers prize and the 2008 Best of the Booker. These latter two special prizes recognized Midnight’s Children as the winner among all Booker winners at the award’s 25th and 40th anniversary celebrations respectively. In other words, it was voted the best of the best. It would be a Herculean task to summarize a novel whose lofty goal is to personify nothing less than India itself through its main character Saleem Sinai and the other children born at midnight on August 15, 1947 (when India became an independent state). So I won’t try. But just know that it achieves just that. It was a fantastic, wild ride.
36. The Alaska Sanders Affair: A Novel by Joël Dicker (2024, Fiction, Mystery, Switzerland 🇨🇭, 560 pages): For my (very few) readers who follow this year-end book review blog, you may remember that I marked Joël Dicker’s The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair as one of my top five favorite books last year. I was delighted when my friend Uday texted me that the characters from that novel were back in 2024’s The Alaska Sanders Affair (Note: we both later learned that this is the third installment of Dicker’s Marcus Goldman series; a book called The Baltimore Boys came out in 2015 but failed to make a splash). Dicker once again does a great job creating an ambiguous murder set in a perfectly captured New England town. While there are plenty of enjoyable twists and turns like his other novels, this one’s resolution felt a bit forced which detracted from the overall impact. A solid mystery, but it didn’t reach the heights of his other two books I’ve read.
37. Heroes: Mortals and Monsters, Quests and Adventures (Stephen Fry’s Greek Mythos, Vol. 2) by Stephen Fry (2018, Non-Fiction, History, UK 🇬🇧, 368 pages): See 25 above.
38. Compelling People: The Hidden Qualities That Make Us Influential by John Neffinger & Matthew Kohut (2014, Non-Fiction, Business / Management, US 🇺🇸, 304 pages): I read this book with the dual aims of learning to create deeper connections by understanding what makes people and their stories compelling and also upleveling my professional storytelling and leadership skills. The authors build their approach around the competing but mutually necessary skills of conveying strength and warmth. It’s by mastering the interplay of these two forces that truly compelling and influential communication styles emerge. Everything from tone of voice, body language, and narrative choices should reinforce these core areas. While I have covered many of these skills before, particularly during public speaking courses at business school, it was a timely refresher particularly in the age of a lot of Zoom calls.
39. How the World Made the West: A 4,000 Year History by Josephine Quinn (2024, Non-Fiction, History, UK 🇬🇧, 592 pages): In exploring Greek history and mythology, I sought a fresh perspective on the Greek world’s role in the development of Western civilization. Josephine Quinn’s meticulously researched How the World Made the West delivers just that by dismantling the notion that ancient Greece was the sole progenitor of Western history. Quinn traces the movement of people and ideas from Asia into the Mediterranean and mainland Europe, illustrating how Greek culture itself was deeply intertwined with and influenced by its neighbors. She argues that even the Greeks would have been astonished to see their culture portrayed as separate or exceptional, given how much they borrowed and exchanged with others. The very concept of “Europe” as distinct from the surrounding regions would have seemed alien to them — especially considering the goddess Europa, namesake of the continent, ventured no farther than Crete. Quinn demonstrates that the idea of Western civilization is a relatively modern invention, popularized by British writers and driven more by ideology and branding than by historical reality.
40. The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea (2004, Non-Fiction, Social Science, Mexico 🇲🇽 — US 🇺🇸, 272 pages): Luis Alberto Urrea describes what happens to the human body when it dies of hyperthermia and exposure with such excruciating detail that I will never be able to un-imagine it. The Devil’s Highway is filled with this and other unflinching accounts of the U.S.-Mexico border crisis. In this journalistic deep dive, he focuses on the 2001 story of twenty-six Mexican migrants who attempt to cross the Sonoran Desert on the Arizona border via “the devil’s highway.” By the end of the grisly account, we’ve heard the poignant stories of the smugglers, the smuggled, and the US border patrollers. Fourteen of the travelers won’t make it to the end of the journey in this brutal and detailed deep-dive into the tragedies of the US-Mexican border. A finalist for the Pulitzer Prize, this deserves a second look for those interested in fine journalism and storytelling.
41. Hello America by J. G. Ballard (1981, Fiction, Novel, UK 🇬🇧, 224 pages): I revisited J.G. Ballard through one of his lesser-known works, Hello America. As with much of his writing, the story unfolds in a bleak and disturbingly plausible future. In this novel, the United States has been transformed into a barren wasteland after the Soviet Union alters global weather patterns by damming the Bering Strait. The plot follows a group of European scientists and adventurers aboard the Apollo, who arrive at New York Harbor to explore the wild and unrecognizable continent. While some seek scientific discovery, others harbor hidden motives. Echoing and satirizing themes from American history, the expedition pushes westward, battling harsh elements and hostile “natives,” culminating in a classic Ballardian crescendo involving a demigod figure presiding over a surreal new world. I found it captivating, though I acknowledge its unconventional style may not appeal to everyone.
42. Pandora’s Jar: Women in the Greek Myths by Natalie Haynes (2020, Non-Fiction, History, UK 🇬🇧, 320 pages): As I delved deeper into Greek mythology this year, I found myself disappointed by how one-dimensional many of the women in these stories seemed. Figures like Clytemnestra, often reduced to the “scheming wife,” and Medea, the “bad mother,” have become synonymous with negative archetypes. In this book, Natalie Haynes breathes new life into these women, dedicating a chapter to each and revealing the complexity and nuance often overlooked (or downplayed by the largely Greek male writers and audiences) in their stories. Characters like Medusa, Helen of Troy, Medea, Penelope, and Jocasta emerge as fully realized individuals, offering surprising and delightful depths to tales I thought I knew. Inspired by her retellings, I found myself eager to explore more about these women in the original Greek plays, as you’ll see reflected in my reading choices for the remainder of the year. While familiarity with works like The Iliad, the Oedipus myth, and Greek hero tales is helpful, this book is a must-read for anyone who wants to reexamine these iconic figures with fresh eyes.
43. The Trojan Women by Euripides (translated by Gilbert Murray) (c. 415 BC, Fiction, Play, Greece 🇬🇷, 78 pages): Euripides is rightly regarded as one of the three great Greek tragedians, and this play exemplifies why. Despite the beauty of its lines, it delivers an unrelenting depiction of tragedy. Inspired by the Siege of Melos during the Peloponnesian War, Euripides crafted this work to underscore the futility and horrors of war. The play chronicles the grim fates of Troy’s women in the aftermath of the city’s fall, focusing on the suffering of Hecuba, Priam’s wife, as well as her daughters Cassandra and Polyxena, her daughter-in-law Andromache (Hector’s widow), and Helen, Paris’ lover. Their stories are marked by death, betrayal, and profound loss, driving home Euripides’ searing critique of war’s devastation.
44. Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro (2005, Fiction, Novel, Japan 🇯🇵-UK 🇬🇧, 288 pages): This book had been sitting in my wife’s reading stack for a while, and my curiosity finally got the better of me. Kazuo Ishiguro weaves a mysterious and haunting tale centered on Kathy, Ruth, and Tommy, students at the enigmatic Hailsham school in England. What begins as a seemingly typical coming-of-age story slowly transforms into something far deeper and more unsettling. Through Kathy’s reflective narrative, we uncover the secrets of the school, its teachers, and its chilling purpose — though I won’t spoil the reveal. From there, the story shifts into a subtle science fiction exploration of ethical dilemmas that feel disturbingly close to our reality. It’s no surprise this novel was highlighted when Ishiguro received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2017 — it’s a profound and unforgettable work.
45. Notes of a Dirty Old Man by Charles Bukowski (1969, Fiction, Short Stories, US 🇺🇸, 208 pages): While visiting Rio de Janeiro, my friend Marcelle introduced me to a place called Bar Bukowski, proudly known as the “casa de rock mais antiga do Rio de Janeiro.” It was an unexpected yet fitting way to discover the work of Charles Bukowski. Intrigued by the name, I looked it up and was surprised to learn it was named for an American writer from Los Angeles. Dubbed by Time as the “laureate of American lowlife,” Bukowski wrote about the raw realities of alcohol, sex, and the gritty experiences of everyday Americans — ironically achieving greater fame abroad. Discovering him in a foreign bar seemed oddly fitting. Having since read his novels Women and Ham on Rye, I was eager to dive into this collection of short stories written for the Open City newspaper. True to form, the stories are raw, humorous, and unmistakably Bukowski.
46. How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen by David Brooks (2023, Non-Fiction, Sociology, US 🇺🇸, 320 pages): Establishing roots in a new home, becoming a first-time parent, and navigating a global pandemic have underscored for me just how vital it is to cherish quality time with friends and family. As people move away or face their own life challenges, our shared moments become even more precious. This realization has led me to ask: how can I cultivate the best in my relationships within the limits life and time impose? This book offered a thoughtful starting point, teaching me to value the skill and intentionality required to truly understand and connect with others. One quote from the book has particularly resonated with me and will guide me into the new year: “Attention is a moral act.”
47. Troy: Our Greatest Story Retold (Stephen Fry’s Greek Mythos, Vol. 3) by Stephen Fry (2020, Non-Fiction, History, UK 🇬🇧, 288 pages): See 25 above.
48. The Children of Jocasta: A Novel by Natalie Haynes (2017, Fiction, Novel, UK 🇬🇧, 304 pages): As I wrote above, Natalie Haynes’ Pandora’s Jar: Women in the Greek Myths inspired me to delve deeper into the women of Greek mythology. While that book is a non-fiction examination of these characters, Haynes also writes novels that reimagine Greek myths with fresh perspectives. In this novel, she focuses on Jocasta, the Theban queen. Jocasta’s husband Laius is murdered before she marries Oedipus, an intelligent foreigner newly arrived to the castle. If this sounds like Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, it is — but with key differences. Haynes reinterprets the story, dedicating much more attention to Jocasta and her children: Antigone, Eteocles, Polynices, and Ismene. The result is a retelling of the tragedy from a unique and engaging angle. While I enjoyed this take, I feel that Madeline Miller’s The Song of Achilles and Circe offer stronger and more compelling entries in the genre.
49. Typhoon and Other Tales by Joseph Conrad (1902, Fiction, Short Stories, UK 🇬🇧, 304 pages): In 2020, I immersed myself in some of Melville’s maritime tales, including the masterful “Billy Budd.” Last year, Moby Dick topped my annual book summary as the favorite read. Somewhere along the way, I added this collection of Joseph Conrad’s sailing-themed short stories to my reading list, and I couldn’t be happier that I did. The collection includes four unforgettable pieces: “Typhoon,” “Falk,” “Amy Foster,” and “The Secret Sharer,” each distinct and captivating. “Typhoon” delivers the most vivid and awe-inspiring account of a storm at sea I’ve ever read. What unites these stories, beyond their nautical backdrop, is their profound exploration of individuals navigating survival and selfhood in extreme and often isolating circumstances. If you’re a short story fan, this collection might just be up your alley.
50–52. Oresteia (Book 1: Agamemnon, Book 2: The Choephori, Book 3: The Eumenides) by Aeschylus with translation by Philip Vellacott (c. 458 BC, Fiction, Play, Greece 🇬🇷, 208 pages): Greek tragedies are not for the faint of heart, and that warning applies particularly well to Aeschylus, the “Father of Tragedy.” Though only a handful of his plays have survived, those that remain are masterpieces of the genre. The Oresteia stands out as the only complete trilogy of ancient Greek theater to have survived to today. The three plays (Agamemnon, The Choephori, and The Eumenides) chronicle the cursed House of Atreus in the aftermath of the Trojan War. The story begins with Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, returning home victorious from the Trojan War accompanied by his war prize, King Priam’s daughter Cassandra. Awaiting him is his vengeful wife, Clytemnestra, who has seethed for ten years over Agamemnon’s sacrifice of their daughter Iphigenia at the start of the war (note: Artemis had stalled the Greek fleet’s journey to Troy until she had been placated with a sacrifice). Adding to the tension is Aegisthus, Agamemnon’s cousin and Clytemnestra’s new lover. He harbors his own vendetta: his older two brothers were murdered by Agamemnon’s father Atreus and fed to Aegisthus’s father Thyestes in a stew. So… yeah, things get ugly real quick. But beneath the violence there are timeless questions about whether justice is best served by law or individual action and if there is such a thing as a righteous killing. That we’re still reading and debating it 2,500 years later speaks volumes about its enduring power.