I write about how many books I read in 2020 because there's social pressure to do so
Do comics count? Yes.
People who read for fun usually end the year regretting that they didn’t make more time for it. The pandemic exacerbated that feeling, at least for me. I had none of the distractions or obstructions that devoured many peoples’ pandemic downtime - kids, their education, a surprise lay-off, a hazardous job. Being forced inside, with two decades’ worth of collected books, was my “Time Enough at Last” scenario. And I didn’t even need glasses.
So I read more than usual this year, and less than I planned to. In January and February I read during any campaign downtime; in March and April, I prioritized books I knew I could deposit at the leave-one-take-one box down the street once I was done. When nothing changed, I indulged in “two-screen” experiences, turning pages of a book I could follow with 70 percent of my brain while a movie occupied the other 29 percent. (Remaining 1 percent reserved for basic motor functions; breathing, etc.)
I burned through tons of short stories, which I don’t think you can include on a list like this. The Annotated H.P. Lovecraft collection, too big to carry anywhere, was perfect for reading in bed. Stuff that had floated into the public domain made for quick iPad reading; the Library of America collection of Raymond Carver stories was a nice fit on plane rides.
Should you care about this? Look, this is a free website, and anyone who gets it in their inbox asked for it. Still figuring out this behind-the-scenes content lifestyle.
Fiction
Richard Powers, “The Overstory.” First experience with an author who two different roommates had sworn by. More like a short story collection than a story that swept me up. Fine!
Nico Walker, “Cherry.”
Jack Vance, “Mazirian the Magician.” Had bought the whole “Dying Earth” series on Kindle years ago, and over the summer I found enough time to get involved with it. The first fantasy that really gripped me in years.
Vernor Vinge, “Rainbow’s End.”
Virginia Woolf, “To the Lighthouse.”
Marilynne Robinson, “Gilead.”
John Christopher, “The End of Grass.” A quick read after watching the b-movie adaptation, “No Blade of Grass.” The apocalypse = a blight that destroys the food supply.
Matthew Derby, “Super Flat Times.”
Walter Tevis, “Mockingbird.” Ripped through it after the fuss around “The Queen’s Gambit” adaptation.
Non-fiction
Robert Caro, “The Path to Power” and “Means of Ascent.” Had read the third and fourth in the series when they came out; had never read the first and second, which debuted when I was one and nine years old.
Daniel Denvir, “All-American Nationalism.”
Zachary D. Carter, “The Price of Peace.”
Terence McKenna, “Food of the Gods.” Went for the source after enjoying Tao Lin’s “Trip,” which is 75 percent about his love for McKenna.
Michael Brooks, “Against the Web.” R.I.P.
Matthew Yglesias, “One Billion Americans.”
Meagan Day and Micah Uetricht, “Bigger Than Bernie.”
Rick Perlstein, “Reaganland.”
Ibram X. Kendi, “Stamped from the Beginning.” The one impulse buy I made during that week when white liberals were buying racial transcendence books. It’s good, though, a speedy guide to intellectual racism.
Nathan Rabin and Brock Wilbur, “Postal.”
Richard Ayoade, “Ayoade On Top.”
Gabriel Pogrund and Patrick Maguire, “Left Out.” Second-best political book of the year, after “Nixonland.” Completely brutal inside story of Corbyn’s Labour.
Greg Grandin, “The End of the Myth.”
David Treuer, “The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee.”
Daniel Immerwahr, “How to Hide an Empire.”
Graphic novel
Simon Hanselmann, “Seeds and Stems” and “Bad Gateway.”
Adrian Tomine, “The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist.”
Joe Sacco, “Paying the Land.”
Box Brown, “Child Star.”
Ben Passmore, “Sports is Hell.”
Seth, “George Sprott.” I’m on a limb here but this and the Brotherhood of Cartoonists book are my favorite stuff he’s done. The obsessive world-building drags me in.
Noah Van Sciver, “The Complete Works of Fante Bukowski.”
Tom Scioli, “Fantastic Four: Grand Design.” Didn’t spark for me like the Ed Piskor books that started the concept. Scioli’s Kirby impression is solid, but the compression and miniaturization of the story just left me bored.
Coffee table book
Action Bronson, “Stoned Beyond Belief.” This website is about honesty, so, yes. I got the white rapper’s weed book. And it’s clearly a cash-in, with Action appearing in stream-of-consciousness dictated quotes and a “weed fashion” section having lorem ipsum instead of text. But ask me if laughed and I’d tell you yes.
Matthew Barney, “The Cremaster Cycle.” A must for any family room.