favorite books of 2025


past annual favorite book lists:

2024 • 2023 • 2022 • 2021 • 2020 • 2019 • 2018 • 2017 • 2016

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I read 40 books in 2025. My reading-for-fun definitely dropped off during both my spring and fall semesters but I finished a slew of things in December after wrapping up. (I also read hundreds of pages both semesters for various classes, but journal articles and singular book chapters don't factor much into these end-of-year stats!)

I attribute much of my year-end total to the many audiobooks I listened to on my two 20+ hour cross-country drives this summer. I have been trying to clear out older things from my to-read list, either by deleting items I don't actually plan to read, and on the other hand prioritizing on audio some books that I haven't otherwise gotten around to reading in book/ebook form. Overall this culling of my to-read list is a Sisyphean task so I don't think I will pursue that with the same fervor in 2026.

In my ongoing attempts to give less money to billionaires, I also am slowly phasing out my use of Goodreads. I now have an account on Storygraph and on Fable, so let me know if you are on either of those platforms!

As always, here are my favorite books that I read in 2025 (with a few honorable mentions), in no particular order:


How About Now: Poems // Kate Baer
I love Kate Baer and her work so much. This collection was so beautiful and I got to hear her read several of the poems at her hometown book tour stop in Doylestown, PA with my friend Angie. Of her three previous collections, my favorite has been her first, "What Kind of Woman," and "How About Now" is up there for me too. This book felt like a celebration of women and our strengths that are often cast as weakness by the patriarchy. It also felt like these poems are opening a door and beckoning—what if? how about now? I will return to this one often.


The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America // Richard Rothstein
This has been on my list to read for years and I finally read it this year. We referred to several parts of the text in my planning law class this fall, and I did a cover-to-cover read-through as well. Rothstein's impressive legal background underscores the work he presents in this book—an exploration of the intricacies of de jure ('by law' or 'in fact') segregation in the United States, as enacted through policy decisions of numerous agencies and entities within the public and private sectors, but notably including government. Rothstein's central argument is that racial segregation in the United States is largely perceived as a matter of personal bias, rather than as something enacted and supported through legal means in the country. He deconstructs this misconception held by too many Americans, in each chapter exploring one such mechanism of segregation. The book explores labor practices, highway construction and planning in the mid-20th century, interest rates, home ownership, zoning, and so much more. Rothstein's extensive research illustrates these examples in great detail, at both a systems level and at a personal level. He cites examples from around the country and weaves in anecdotal experience to illustrate the impacts and how they were felt by Black Americans subject to government-endorsed segregation. It is a remarkable book and I think it should be required reading for every American.


Empire of AI // Karen Hao
This is easily one of my top recommendations from the year and I am adding it to my list of what I think should be required reading for everyone. If you know me well, you have undoubtedly heard my AI diatribe, but I will spare you here and instead talk about this book. This is an incredibly well-researched and clear-eyed discussion of AI and specifically the company OpenAI (which created ChatGPT) within the broader artificial intelligence sector of the tech industry. As a technology reporter for several high-profile national publications, Hao was covering AI and related topics long before ChatGPT came on the scene. She writes at length and in detail about OpenAI and other tech startups and behemoths (like Microsoft and Meta) in Silicon Valley and the broader tech context in which AI developments have rapidly occurred. She also dedicates several chapters to the environmental and human impacts of AI in the Global South, with the human workforce powering content moderation and other low-paying labor, the siting of data centers in South America, and more. All of this reveals the broader context in which the AI boom is happening, and the extent to which the AI industry has obfuscated its tangible and material impacts and exported its negative externalities. She draws connections between this “empire of AI” and the European colonial empires that relied on economies of extraction and abuse (of Indigenous people and the Global South) and makes the case that AI is continuing that ideological system in this technological age. Hao also explores the narrative spun by Sam Altman and how OpenAI founders and executives believed they were doing virtuous work but how ultimately the pursuit of power and wealth has overpowered any virtuous intent that was present at the outset.

I am a person who is pretty staunchly anti-generative AI and I appreciated the way Hao addressed these topics—she defines the technology clearly for what it is and what it isn't, noting the (positive and negative) impacts of the technological advances *as well as* their limitations. I found the last chapter of the book to be especially compelling in illustrating a different way forward—how people are successfully doing things differently in a way that is more responsible and responsive to the people most impacted by generative AI's development and use. In a world that treats the increasingly rapid adoption and deployment of these technologies as a foregone conclusion, I appreciate the way Hao articulates a possible future that we still have the ability to choose.


The Golden Compass (His Dark Materials Book I) // Phillip Pullman
Last January, on a roadtrip to Moab with my friend Ron, I had just finished the novel I had brought and was craving more fiction instead of the other book I'd brought. Ron had brought a couple books as well and was rereading the His Dark Materials series and leant it to me during the trip. I really loved this first installment in the series, and it felt like a very fitting winter read, given the Arctic setting of much of the book. I loved Lyra and found her a refreshing heroine as she is scrappy and a bit rough-around-the-edges. This is a slight spoiler—Mrs. Coulter is up there for me with the best villains of children's literature alongside Esme Squalor of the A Series of Unfortunate Events books. I loved the world-building of this story and the idea of the daemons, or a small animal companion that each person has that evokes their inner-self. I also found a lot of beautiful ideas represented in the narrative; it reminded me of other favorite children's literature that I loved as a kid and still as an adult. I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the series.

"Their eyes were gleaming with hope and excitement. And all through the canteen the message was being passed around. Lyra could tell that the atmosphere had changed. Outside, the children had been energetic and eager for play; then when they had seen Mrs. Coulter they were bubbling with a suppressed hysterical fear; but now there was a control and purpose to their talkativeness. Lyra marveled at the effect hope could have."


The Will of the Many // James Islington
A moment of silence for the truly horrible cover design that most copies come with, in addition to that of the sequel (just released in November)—these are not doing these books any favors. This was one of my top favorites of the year. I am considering rereading it before I read the sequel, just so the story and events are fresh in my memory, and because I enjoyed the reading experience so much. This is a great reminder to me that every once in a while I should veer outside my well-trodden genres because there are great things to find in other genres; I don't read a lot of fantasy but The Will of the Many has me strongly reconsidering that position. Islington's world-building is exquisite and engrossing and the Catenan Republic is troubling and fascinating in equal parts. The Catenan civilization relies on a caste system in which lower-rung people cede their "will" to the next level up, with each successive tier receiving more and more will in a very pyramid-scheme-esque configuration. The protagonist is an orphaned young man who the reader does not initially know much about, but he is singled out as someone with potential and sent by his benefactor to an elite boarding school, in part to learn and be trained as a Catenan citizen, and in part to uncover the mysteries lurking beneath the surface at the school. The boarding school has its own hierarchical system which the narrator moves through, making friends and making enemies as he tries to navigate an unfamiliar world. The top-tier students train to compete in a high-stakes competition, evoking something of the Hunger Games while the boarding school atmosphere felt somewhat nostalgic as a longtime HP reader (although the resemblances pretty much ended at "boarding school").

If you liked other YA series such as those referenced above, if you are interested in ancient civilizations (or current ones) or political theory, or if you simply love a good book that you cannot put down, I think you should read this book (and probably the sequel). James Islington has another book series which I am adding to my list stat.

“They ask something small of you. A thing you would prefer not to do, but is not so terrible. You think you are working your way up, but in fact they are changing you. Moulding you into what they think you should be, one compromise at a time.” He says it simply, but there’s rock-hard belief beneath the words. “I am not suggesting you should have ignored what Scitus said. I am just saying that in this place… each man has to find his line. Has to find it ahead of time, and be resolved never to cross it.”


The Ministry of Time // Kaliane Bradley
This was one of the first books I finished reading in 2025 and remains one of my very favorites from the year. Kaliane Bradley's debut follows a protagonist working in Britain's "Ministry of Time," an experimental government division exploring the possibilities of time travel. Recognizing the butterfly effect of making changes in the past, the Ministry has identified a handful of individuals from disparate time periods who died young or prematurely, and has flagged them as the experimental time travelers, bringing these 'refugees of the past' to the present (their future). Our protagonist is a handler for one such time traveler, an Arctic explorer. The infrastructure and procedures for time travel in the book are fascinating and it explores a lot of idiosyncrasies of the present day that the time travelers must adjust to. I loved the cast of characters in this novel, and especially the time travelers and the main character. There are some excellent twists and the writing is superb. I don't want to say much more lest I give away major plot points, but I highly recommend it. My friend Elizabeth had initially recommended it to me, which was very fitting as we are both Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next fans, and I very much felt that this could co-exist in the same universe as those books.


On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century // Timothy Snyder
This short, slim volume should be required reading for all Americans. Snyder is a historian who has written extensively on the United States and Eastern European governments. This book summarizes his observations about the way regular Americans (or people anywhere) can contribute to preventing the backsliding of democracy into a more tyrannical form of government. Each chapter holds one piece of advice, which he elaborates on, and together these chapters form the 20 lessons referenced in the title. He emphasizes things like media literacy, reading, and building community with your neighbors. Regardless of your thoughts on the current presidential administration, I think many of the lessons are simply good reminders of how to be an active participant in democracy, and in preserving and maintaining democracy.


Outside Lies Magic: Regaining History and Awareness in Everyday Places // John Stilgoe
I found John Stilgoe's work through colleagues and friends in grad school and I love his writing. His book Shallow Water Dictionary is sitting next to my bed to read soon and also feels quite resonant with another of my favorite books Landmarks by Robert Macfarlane. Outside Lies Magic is a wonderful volume documenting Stilgoe's ethos around noticing things in the built environment. He dedicates each chapter to a common, often taken-for-granted element of modern life in a busy world and traces the threads of how these things came to be. He looks at the postal service, old train tracks, Main Street, with evocative chapter titles like "Beginnings," "Lines," and "Enclosures." His ethos resonates very much with my own; his throughline in the book is that walking or biking are excellent ways to take in the details of the places around you and dig deeper into what has shaped them into what they are.


Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place // Terry Tempest Williams
I love Terry Tempest Williams' writing so much. Her book When Women Were Birds has been a favorite of mine for at least a decade and The Open Space of Democracy was another favorite of mine that I read last year. I have more of her books on my shelves and want to make my way through them; it's so nice to have books to look forward to and she has a new release scheduled in 2026 as well!

Refuge is part memoir, part environmental essay, documenting the birds of the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge on the Great Salt Lake and tracking the Great Salt Lake's record-high elevation in the 1980s. TTW also explores her personal connection to the Salt Lake Valley and the generations of her family affected by radiation fallout from the Nevada nuclear testing site. She weaves these threads together beautifully, and we are so lucky to have her voice as a naturalist, conservationist, and steward of these places, with the staying power that literature provides; even as she has long since moved to southern Utah, her words on the GSL reverberate to these current times of the lake's record lows and threats of its toxic dust, reflecting how we might show greater care for this world around us.

On a personal level, 2025 was when my friend Sam observed that "you have an east coast personality, but the west is in your blood" (during my dreamy Colorado summer) and honestly that is one of the most prescient things someone has ever said about me. This particular volume from TTW really resonated with me on that level and will be a forever favorite book because it captures my love of the desert and how I feel when I am in the desert. TTW also has connections to Mormonism and her writings on the complicated religion of her upbringing is another aspect of this book which resonates deeply.


Tom Lake // Ann Patchett
I will read anything she writes; Ann Patchett is one of my favorite novelists and one of my favorite essayists, and I enjoyed this novel so much. Tom Lake is the second novel I read in 2025 which occurs during early COVID social distancing and lockdown. It has something of an insular feel, with the protagonists family needing to carry on their family business of harvesting their cherry orchard, with a workforce greatly reduced by the pandemic restrictions, but who are otherwise sheltered from the greatest shocks of the early pandemic. In this setting, they retreat into the past—the three daughters (obviously another reason I loved this book) drawing out the long-alleged story from their mom of the summer she dated a major Hollywood movie star, then-on the cusp of stardom.

The summer romance occurred when the two met as actors in a summer theater production of Our Town. I love the slow reveal of who she is married to now; as the reader, we know the non-end from the beginning (aka that she doesn't end up permanently with the Hollywood dreamboat) but the edges of the actual story slowly come into focus through the course of the novel. I love Patchett's writing, and I loved the gentle, quiet nature of this book. It felt very resonant with the ethos of Our Town and was a great reminder of the power of fiction during trying times.


The Architecture of Disability // David Gissen
In my design education, accessibility has typically been discussed only briefly and in terms of complying with ADA; in my efforts to prioritize accessibility and universal design in my work, I learned about this book and made it a priority to read it this year. This is more of a theoretical text than an instruction manual, which was exactly what I'd been seeking; new approaches will require creativity and new ways of thinking, and I find a background in theory to be extremely helpful in shaping new ideas as a departure from previous ways of doing things. Gissen argues for an "architecture of disability" in design that centers and celebrates disability rather than treats it as an afterthought, denies its existence, or frames it as a negative or diminished state of being. Chapters in the book deal with different aspects of disability in the built environment, including the role of labor in building construction and its connection to disability, monumentality in cities and how this relates to or creates challenges for disabled people, specific built works that have or have not effectively engaged disability (with the city of Vienna cited as one that centers disability in much of its built environment due to its notable population of disabled veterans in the 20th century), and more. One of my friends was a student of David Gissen and she is reading this with colleagues at the architecture firm where she works so I am looking forward to having more people to discuss this with! I have more books about disability on my list, as well as a lot of writers, theorists, and scholars that I highlighted in the endnotes from Gissen's book, and I think this body of knowledge is an important aspect of fostering an inclusive design culture.


Romantic Comedy // Curtis Sittenfeld
This was the first COVID-19-situated novel I read in 2025 (the other being Tom Lake, as noted above). My sister has been telling me to read Sittenfeld's novels for years (especially Eligible) and I know I am remiss in not having read her others yet! Romantic Comedy follows a writer on a late-night comedy show (never named the reader basically knows it is supposed to be SNL) who has some chance encounters with one of the musical guests, an attractive pop singer who she underestimates because he is an attractive pop star and she expects him to be vapid and self-obsessed. The novel follows their connection and it was so enjoyable, funny, and refreshing to read. I loved the glimpse at the late-night writer life as portrayed in the book and seeing how the comedy sketches came together. I read it early in the year when it was freezing cold and dismally wintry in Philly and it was the perfect antidote to and escape from the world outside.


The Other Side of Disappearing // Kate Clayborn
This book was recommended by my friend Angie and her recommendations never disappoint. The Other Side of Disappearing follows the story of Jess, a young woman who raised her younger half-sister after their mom disappeared with her boyfriend of a few months. Jess has shielded her half-sister from the truth that he was a con man who is the subject of a local true crime podcast, which is following his last-known con in their current season. Her half-sister wants to track down their mom and the podcast crew is coming along; Jess joins the roadtrip in an attempt to shield her sister from the harsh truth. I really enjoyed this book and found the premise to make for a really compelling plot, with the dual storylines of the podcast and the real-time roadtrip and tracking down of their mom. It's also a romance and I loved the characters a lot. I don't want to give away any crucial details so I'll leave it at that, but it was a fun read and I didn't want it to end.


reread:     Till We Have Faces // C.S. Lewis
This is a long-time favorite that I reread early in the year—my initial reading took place a decade previously, before I was sharing my year of favorite books online so I am including it as I haven't written about it before.

This book is a major departure from what most people have likely come to expect from C.S. Lewis's canon; rather than strict religious allegory or subject, here Lewis takes on a retelling of the mythological tale of Psyche and Cupid. It's honestly a strange book and I always seem to have a hard time writing about why I love it and what it means to me. A lot of it relates to perception (of self and of others) and as much of Lewis' other fiction, is legend laced with allegory.

"But one thing was certain: I had never thought at all how it might be with her when I turned first to the Fox and then to Psyche. For it had been somehow settled in my mind from the very beginning that I was the pitiable and ill-used one. She had her gold curls, hadn't she?" 



honorable mentions:

Taste: My Life Through Food // Stanley Tucci (I started with a physical copy which I eventually ditched in favor of audio, which I enjoyed much more. Tucci has a very conversational writing style that felt a bit grating to me on the page but in audio format was perfection, and indeed where I think he shines due to his many years as a beloved actor. I loved his stories about his upbringing and his wife and kids and their many beloved Italian food traditions. The print copy is obviously superior though to reference specific recipes he shares.)

Beg, Borrow, or Steal // Sarah Adams (recommended by several friends and it was a fun read. I want to read the other books in the series!)

Every Summer After // Carley Fortune (my comments include a vague but nonetheless spoiler alert: I genuinely loved this one until an 11th hour reveal of my most detested romance trope that somewhat soured the rest of the book for me. but I'll read more from her!)

Red, White, and Royal Blue // Casey McQuiston (I think I may have added an Oxford comma in this title where she had none, but I stand by it. I listened to this on audio and it was a great audio production. I loved the humor and the writing and it reminded me of the humor and gravitas that co-exist in some of my favorite political dramas. And I obviously loved the featured couple and the slight Princess Diaries/The Prince and Me/What a Girl Wants/etcfeel to it all.)


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What were your favorite books or top recommendations from 2025? I decided I am done making specific reading goals for myself (besides a number, this year: 30) because I never stick to them, but I would like to get back into reading more poetry as my poetry reading has dropped off somewhat in the last couple of years. Do you have any titles you hope to read in 2026 or new releases you are looking forward to? Happy reading!

favorite books of 2024



past annual favorite book lists:

2023 • 2022 • 2021 • 2020 • 2019 • 2018 • 2017 • 2016

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I read 66 books in 2024 (no one is more surprised than me bc design school?! I credit a healthy dose of escapist fiction/series last winter and many shore days reading during the summer) and loved many of them. Initially this stack of books was a few volumes higher but I really tried to pare it down to just the very top standouts.

Per usual, these are in no particular order, and my favorite selections within essay and poetry collections are listed where applicable, with an asterisk for my very favorites.


The Idiot // Elif Batuman
I relate all too well to my girl Selin, overthinker extraordinaire. This book feels very true-to-life in that the plot is very slow-moving, comprised of a slow accumulation of days and events as Selin moves through her first year at college and the summer that follows it. I think you will either love this book or hate it, but I loved it *so* much and reading this book made me want to give my college self a big hug. Batuman captures the feeling of newly exploring the world as an adult, with friendships you happen to fall into due to proximity, and trying to navigate the social politics of college. Selin also spends a lot of time thinking about language and translation and meaning—as a fellow overthinker, I relate all too well to her parsing of meaning and wondering if everyone else spends as much time forming their thoughts and words as you do. Batuman's wry humor is so subtle but had me cracking up for much of this book. If you like bookish young women and feeling secondhand embarrassment and tenderness, you might like this one too (or maybe, quite simply, you, like me and like Selin, are a bookish girl who has, at one time or another, been tricked by your girl brain. I felt very seen reading this book).

The subsequent Either/Or has been patiently waiting on my shelves for when I am ready for some more Selin time, which I think may be very soon. I also want to read more Russian fiction (notably some Dostoevsky) and then revisit this one; there are a lot of layers here that I think I would appreciate even more with a better grasp of some of the Russian classics I haven't yet read.

"Back in Svetlana's room, we listened to the CDs she had bought—Joni Mitchell's Blue and Bach's St. Matthew Passion—and made necklaces, periodically holding up the strands and comparing them. Svetlana explained how her necklace was characteristic of her and mine was characteristic of me, and I thought about how probably, as long as civilization had existed, women had been threading beads onto strings or reeds or whatever. Then I wondered whether it had always been women. Maybe in ancient times men had been into beads. Today, though, it was hard to imagine boys sitting around on beanbags, listening to Joni Mitchell, holding necklaces against each other's necks, and talking about Svetlana's sister. Some part of me worried that this was why women would never amount to anything, that we were somehow holding ourselves back."


Vibrant Matter: A Political Ecology of Things // Jane Bennett
If The Power Broker is the book I spent the most time talking about in 2024, Vibrant Matter is the book I spent the most time thinking about. I was first introduced to material theory by my friend Rebekah a few years ago, but things didn't really click for me until I arrived at landscape architecture grad school where it all suddenly made sense and resonated very deeply. We read a couple chapters of Bennett's Vibrant Matter in my first semester theory class and as it turned out, those were the chapters (1 and 2) which ended up being my favorite upon reading the entire book, but I loved the book on the whole nonetheless.

For those unfamiliar, Bennett and other vital materialists advocate for an ethic that ascribes agency and motive to objects and things, rather than relegating them to inanimate status. I think landscape architectural examples capture the essence of these ideas very well—Harold Fisk's meander belt maps of the Mississippi River are a favorite and very lovely visual illustration of the vital materialist idea/principle that something like a river, through the physics and processes of water, gravity, weather, etc., is enacting a sort of agency as it shapes sediment in its movements and changes course over time. Bennett explores these ideas in many other contexts as well, examining things like stem cells, electric grids, garbage, and other environmental and political systems that comprise other types of assemblages with material agency. Bennett's work is quite academic in tone and style, but many of my favorite writers explore similar themes in their work (such as Robin Wall Kimmerer [though Bennett may disagree in that instance as her particular brand of vital materialism is distinct from other more spiritual traditions of animacy], Mary Oliver, Annie Dillard, and Amy Leach) and I found it so helpful to gain a better familiarity with the particular theorists who have written extensively on these topics, summarized nicely by Bennett in this volume and ultimately comprising a further reading list for future me (when I have the mental capacity to delve into those more philosophical works).


My Bright Abyss: Meditation of a Modern Believer // Christian Wiman
Wiman's My Bright Abyss is the runner-up for books I spent the most time thinking about this year. Wiman's musings on belief with a modern sensibility really resonated with me (my apologies for probably overusing the verb "resonate" in this post! I digress!) and my particular experience of religion, faith, and belief.

"I always have this sense that something is going to resolve my spiritual anxieties once and for all, that one day I'll just relax and be a believer. I read book after book. I seek out intense experiences in art, in nature, or in conversations with people I respect and who seem to rest more securely in their faith than I do. Sometimes it seems that gains are made, for these things can and do provide relief and instruction. But always the anxiety comes back, is the norm from which faith deviates, if faith is even what you could call these intense but somehow vague and fleeting experiences of God. I keep forgetting, or perhaps simply will not let myself see, what true faith is, its active and outward nature. I should never pray to be at peace in my belief. I should pray only that my anxiety be given peaceful outlets, that I might be the means to a peace that I myself do not feel."

"[Y]ou can know everything about a religion—its history, iconography, scripture, etc.—but all of that will remain intellectual, mere information, so long as your own soul is not at risk."

My Bright Abyss*
Sorrow's Flower
God's Truth Is Life
O Thou Mastering Light
God Is Not Beyond*
Varieties of Quiet*
Mortify Our Wolves


Hamnet // Maggie O'Farrell
I loved this speculative historical fiction about (the never-named) William Shakespeare’s home life. Maggie O’Farrell’s prose is exquisite and rich with details; the reviews I read are mixed and some readers described it as overwrought. Personally, I thought she was able to characterize a sensitivity that several of her protagonists shared in how they viewed and moved through their world attuned to the finely rendered details around them. Most of all, this was a story about grief and about relationships between parent and child; this latter theme most explored through the contrasts of the two generations of parent-child relationships. Hamlet has always been my favorite Shakespeare play and I loved this book all the more for its take on the tragedy, weaving it into the context of this novel with a beautiful, poignant, heartbreaking ending.


Everything I Know About Love // Dolly Alderton
Perhaps Dolly's best-known work, I came to this late in the game but no less enthusiastically. Although Dolly and I had very different young adulthood experiences, the emotional tenor of this book resonated with me completely, just the same. She writes about dating foibles and growing up, common fodder for the 20-something coming-of-age genre, but the common theme throughout is female friendship as ballast.

"Nearly everything I know about love, I've learned in my long-term friendships with women. ... I know what it is to know every tiny detail about a person and revel in that knowledge as if it were an academic subject."


Bright Young Women // Jessica Knoll
One of my favorite novels of the year—moving and devastating as you know the end from the beginning. Knoll deconstructs the celebrity of a certain real-life serial killer by never naming him, a hat tip to the young woman court stenographer who exclusively referred to him as only "The Defendant." The title of this book is a twist on the judge's closing remarks in which he referred to The Defendant as a "bright young man," a heinous display of sexism in its erasure of the enormous potential and shattered lives of the actual bright young women this man coerced and brutally murdered. Knoll weaves a multilinear narrative that is extremely well done and plumbs the complexity and depths of the women (both survivors and victims) so often maligned in this true crime narrative.


Between Two Kingdoms: A Memoir of a Life Interrupted // Suleika Jaouad
I've been meaning to read this for a few years, ever since I started following Suleika's project The Isolation Journals during the early months of the pandemic. One of my friends picked this for our book club one month and we all loved it. It's beautiful and moving and heartbreaking and lovely. I laughed and I cried and I held her words close. Suleika’s prose is stunning and she writes about her emotions with striking precision, and seems to have weathered some truly challenging experiences with grace and compassion.


The Open Space of Democracy // Terry Tempest Williams
My favorite essay in this collection was "Ground Truthing," which I first encountered in 2023 on a recommended reading list for incoming landscape architecture students at Penn. I loved this collection of essays which revolved primarily around conservation and politics in the intermountain west. TTW's words are encouraging and a prescient reminder as we contend with a new presidential administration hostile to the reality of climate change and with a track record of reducing the conservation gains of the past.


Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters // Annie Dillard
I have loved Annie Dillard since first encountering her work in college and Pilgrim at Tinker Creek is one of my very favorite books. I've also read/loved An American Childhood as well as several volumes of her poetry. Teaching a Stone to Talk contains many of the Annie Dillard hallmarks I adore, including essays of her nature writing where I think she really shines ("Life on the Rocks: The Galápagos" was incredible). I appreciated the more eclectic and varied nature of this collection and loved moments of crossover between one of my favorite writers and my more recent Jane Bennett-vital materialism interests ("Teaching a Stone to Talk" is very much in this vein). But I think my very favorite from this book was "An Expedition to the Pole"—an inventive exploration of worship and belief juxtaposed with accounts of polar exploration, the impetus for polar exploration serving as stand-in for belief. It sounds bizarre and moments of it are, but I loved it so so much. Several times I caught myself comparing Dillard's writing to another favorite writer of mine, Anne Fadiman (this essay specifically reminded me a lot of Fadiman's At Large and At Small, which includes an essay titled "The Arctic Hedonist")—I think this was largely in part to how Dillard wove the polar exploration narratives into this essay and the way she described the Romantic but sparse prose found in the accounts of these Victorian adventurers.

    "A high school stage play is more polished than this service we have been rehearsing since the year one. In two thousand years, we have not worked out the kinks. We positively glorify them. Week after week we witness the same miracle: that God is so mighty he can stifle his own laughter. Week after week, we witness the same miracle: that God, for reasons unfathomable, refrains from blowing our dancing bear act to smithereens. Week after week Christ washes the disciples' dirty feet, handles their very toes, and repeats, It is all right—believe it or not—to be people.
    Who can believe it?"

Total Eclipse
An Expedition to the Pole*
Living Like Weasels
In the Jungle
Teaching a Stone to Talk*
Life on the Rocks: The Galápagos*


Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays // Mary Oliver
This is an incredibly lovely collection of some of Mary Oliver's poems about birds, plus some prose pieces. The essay "Bird" about a seagull she and her partner rescued was beautiful and devastating. I loved the entire collection.

Wild Geese
The Dipper
Such Singing in the Wild Branches
The Swan
Owls
Bird*
September
Backyard


Instructions for Traveling West: Poems // Joy Sullivan
I have loved Joy Sullivan's work for a while now and this was one of my most highly anticipated releases of 2024. The titular poem is my very favorite and ironically many of my big moves in that vein entailed my traveling east, but as a long-term inhabitant of the intermountain west I understand the pull that region has on a person and the ethos of the poem resonates deeply.

I have too many favorites to list all of them so here are the poems that I dog-eared:
Instructions for Traveling West*
Safe
Buttercream
State of Emergency
Culpable*


Blessing the Boats: New and Selected Poems // Lucille Clifton
I have loved Lucille Clifton for a long time but had only sporadically read a few of her poems here and there. This is a great volume including some of her best-known poems. Some poems are tragic and devastating, others are wry and humorous. I absolutely love her takes on biblical subjects and how she reimagines these familiar stories in fresh and compelling ways. Other topics she frequently writes about include her family/family history, Black life in America, and womanhood. Some of her poems (including a few listed below) are available to read online through the Poetry Foundation and Poets.org.

alabama 9/15/63
what i think when i ride the train
study the masters
why some people be mad at me sometimes
my dream about falling
my dream about God*
my dream about the poet
poem in praise of menstruation
photograph
lot's wife
to my last period
wishes for sons
adam thinking
eve thinking
the story thus far
blessing the boats
note, passed to superman
dear fox
a dream of foxes

(but actually probably all of these warrant an asterisk)


Martyr! // Kaveh Akbar
This was the penultimate book I finished reading this year and one of my favorites. It's the debut novel of Iranian-American poet Kaveh Akbar and received a lot of well-deserved acclaim this year. I found it to be a really lovely exploration of identity, belief, mortality, and art (in the case of these characters, writing and visual arts). Several times while reading I felt distinctly reminded of Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin; I think my main point of mental comparison is that both novels explore creativity in a beautiful and resonant way as a form of self-expression and self-exploration. Martyr! also has a series of dream scenes that reminded me of the game sequences in T&T&T—while these operate as distinctly unique literary devices in each novel, I thought both resulted in a similar effect of infusing the work with an element of magical realism that is very grounded in the narrative and tone of that novel. I also loved the glimpses of the Iranian and Persian poetic tradition (in which Akbar's previous work is obviously grounded) in several chapters as part of the multilinear narrative. Akbar uses the multilinear narrative very effectively in driving the story and revealing the characters. I look forward to reading more of his work (poetry and prose).


The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, vol. 8 // Beth Brower
I loved every minute reading the highly anticipated eighth installment of Miss Emma M. Lion's journals. The previous 7 books in the series are included in my last two years of favorite books, although this year I reread the entire series in the lead-up to book 8 (a partial tandem-reading over Thanksgiving with my friend Elizabeth in which we sat fire-side with a cat-napping-cat and would read our favorite lines out loud to one another from our respective current installments—a delightful experience which I highly recommend).

I'm loath to get too specific about book 8 here (STONE!CROP!), lest I delve into spoilers territory, so I'll share my briefest synopsis of the series, as recently pitched to my friend Julia: "1880s London, a 20-something girl who gets herself into the most ludicrous scrapes," to which she correctly responded "Say less I'm INTERESTED"!

I think my favorite thing about Beth's writing in this series is the way she so perfectly captures the highs and lows of Emma's life. These books are SO delightfully funny, and yet at other times are poignant or melancholy, laced with grief. This is the kind of fiction that feels the most true to me, because real life includes all of it. Emma has a particular pluck with which she has very intentionally looked her difficulties in the face and determined to make the best of it—a way of living that I very much admire.


The God of the Woods // Liz Moore
My sister read this novel early in the summer and mentioned a brief reference to our dad's hometown, at which point I immediately added it to my to-read list; we spent a lot of childhood summers visiting extended family in upstate New York, so the book's setting immediately piqued my interest. Moore tells an epic family tale spanning several decades and generations of the Van Laar family and their Adirondack idyll, tinged with tragedy and mystery as two different children of the Van Laar family go missing under mysterious circumstances, their disappearances happening over a decade apart. Moore's writing is wonderful and she kept me guessing the entire time, one of my favorite feelings when reading a book. The less you know going in, the better.


Small Things Like These // Claire Keegan
This is my sister Lauren's favorite book and it's been on my list to read for a couple years. I read it just after Christmas (nicely timed for the setting of the novel around Christmas). Keegan's prose is so sparse and pared down, but she writes about small, specific moments and occurrences that evoke such clear mental pictures of her characters and their lives. This short novel is a beautiful meditation on people and goodness and at a very basic level, what we owe to each other. I've heard wonderful things about the film adaptation as well and hope to watch it soon.


The Crane Wife: A Memoir in Essays // CJ Hauser
I have been a CJ Hauser fan girl ever since her essay "The Crane Wife" was first published in The Paris Review in 2019 (if you haven't encountered it before, please go read it!!!! I genuinely believe four exclamation points is not too many). Topics of other essays in this collection included a handful of my favorite things/media: Hepburns Katharine and Audrey, Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, and Shirley Jackson/'s house(!).

epigraph to section I
Hepburn Qua Hepburn
The Crane Wife*
Kind of Deep Blue
The Lady with the Lamp
Nights We Didn't
Act Three; Dulcinea Quits
The Second Mrs. de Winter
Unwalling Jackson's Castle
The Fox Farm
Uncoupling*
Siberian Watermelon


The Power Broker: Robert Moses and the Fall of New York // Robert A. Caro
This book represents a significant investment of my time, the book I spent the most time talking about in 2024, and I wrote a separate review for it here. It's well-regarded for a reason and a great read for anyone interested in the shaping of modern NYC, planning history, and government.



honorable mentions: (with my goodreads reviews linked!)
The Husbands // Holly Gramazio (no formal review on this one, but a very fun and tender debut novel)
/ / / 

Thank you for reading! Did we have any favorite books in common this year? I always love hearing what my friends read and loved during the year (or in the past) so I can add to my reading list!



THE POWER BROKER: review


I have so much to say about The Power Broker and this is my failed attempt to share some distilled/simplified thoughts in the form of a review here. "Failed" because this is still long in spite of rigorous editing/culling but there you have it. I suppose it's commensurate with the length of the book, sorrynotsorry!

First of all, I would like to give a personal standing ovation for Robert Caro, who is truly an incredible and impressive researcher and writer. He absolutely deserved the Pulitzer that he received for this book.

This is probably the book I spent the most time talking about this year (lol and oops) and I have a lot of thoughts about it. I have wanted to read this Pulitzer-winning biography of Robert Moses for a long time, mainly because of my various interests represented in its pages—NYC history, politics, local government, city planning, and planning history. As a kid, my cousins lived on Long Island and I spent my childhood driving and frequenting many Robert Moses-named and -built works; the name 'Robert Moses' was a part of the cultural milieu in which I grew up, a name among many of the named public works my family frequented (some others being the Walt Whitman Bridge, Commodore Barry Bridge, Ben Franklin Bridge, etc.). My level of familiarity with these different names varied and I didn't know much about Robert Moses until I was in college and out of curiosity read a bit about him online. I remember on a visit to NYC in 2012, my family spent a week in the city and stayed in Greenwich Village, and some signs protesting a high-rise project prompted me to learn more about that part of NYC, including Jane Jacobs and her involvement with preserving Washington Square Park from development threatened by Moses.

I started reading The Power Broker in March 2023, then took a long hiatus while I moved cross-country and started grad school. In late fall 2023 I picked it back up and read a little here and there, and then resumed in earnest in May 2024 with the intent to stay focused and finish it during the year. I spent a lot of days reading at the Jersey shore last summer, which is where I did some of my longest stints, and finished the day after Christmas. Many many people have asked me if I'm listening to/have recommended the 99% Invisible podcast accompanying the book, but I haven't listened yet mainly due to a wish to keep my reading experience singular. Now I absolutely need a break from Moses for a bit (especially given the Moses-oriented [or anti-Moses, rather] bent of my studio project this past semester—I have literally spent so many hours thinking about this man!), but I'm sure it's something I'll listen to eventually because, again, I am very interested in the subject matter and the many topics Moses' influence reaches.

One of my only complaints came upon learning fairly early in my reading (arising from a casual Google search after I couldn't find Jane Jacobs in the index) that Caro wrote a chapter on Jane Jacobs and ultimately cut it due to the length of the book. Allegedly had the book been any longer, the binding would not have accommodated any additional pages and it would have required two volumes. The Jane Jacobs chapter (for the uninitiated) would obviously not follow the prevailing narrative of the Moses modus operandi (his M.O. being 'driving stakes'—starting a project that had not been funded or approved in a semi-permanent way, then when funding or approval was nigh, citing the loss of taxpayer dollars if it were then denied as a reason to approve the rest of the venture), as she succeeded in her neighborhood organizing efforts, and as a result we still have Washington Square Park and the West Village in modern NYC. I've made peace with the omission, as I realize Jane has plenty of air time elsewhere—I obviously love her classic The Death and Life of Great American Cities and also highly recommend the documentary "Citizen Jane," among other things. In that spirit, I really appreciated Caro's extensive focus on Lillian Edelstein of East Tremont in the Bronx and her organizing efforts opposing the Cross Bronx Expressway—ultimately and tragically no match for Moses' abuse of power, but a powerful figure of civic organizing who stood up to Moses and deserves our attention in the context of his biography.

My other primary complaint is the lack of treatment of Staten Island projects and topics within the book. I may be biased as I spent the entire last semester studying Staten Island in my landscape architecture studio, but I think there is a lot of fascinating history that Caro omitted from this book, notably the development and use of Fresh Kills landfill and the network of Staten Island expressways and parkways (some constructed and some ultimately not—again, the non-development of a Moses project being somewhat of a departure from Moses' usual track record; in some cases these failed projects occurred even in spite of his use of the 'driving stakes' methods). As I spent a lot of time studying this specific history of public works, public space, and the built environment of Staten Island, I'm interested in comparing the timelines of those events with the later chapters of The Power Broker to see how Moses' ultimate fall from power may have contributed to the petering out of these projects, as I suspect the way these timelines align may ultimately be the reason for Caro's omissions. I am also planning to read a separate account of Fresh Kills, written by Martin Melosi, which examines consumption and waste more broadly in NYC and in the context of Fresh Kills landfill on Staten Island (which was initially a Robert Moses venture, but remained in use until 2001, long after Moses' time).

Caro is also a very evocative writer—he excels at painting portraits of the different people who figure into the Moses entourage, the people who most influenced Moses early in his public life, and the series of NYC mayors and governors Moses worked under/over/with (the preposition most applicable very much depending on the mayor or governor in question). I found some of his descriptions to be very earnest or dramatic at times, but overall this served him well in telling this epic New York tale.

One thing I continually found fascinating and distinctive about Caro's writing was a particular subjunctive sentence construction that Caro employed over and over again. As a student and speaker of Italian, I love the subjunctive tense (il congiuntivo!) and always lament that we don't use it more in the English language. Well I got my wish with Caro and I was puzzled about it for a while as it made for some very odd, and at times convoluted, sentences. Somewhere along the line, I realized it was probably a way to avoid a libel suit, as well as a way to explore motive when much of the time it may not be confirmable fact. But its prevalence made an impression and I'm curious whether Caro's other works employ that construction nearly as often, or if Moses is an exception (which would not surprise me).

I'm interested in undertaking a reread at some point (like, maybe a decade from now) with an eye toward the chronology of the book. Caro spent 7 years researching and obviously a work of this immensity is a feat. As part of the biography genre, the work is loosely chronological, but throughout the last half of the book I found myself getting turned around as Caro would jump chronology to stick to the theme or topic at hand. Again, for a work of this immensity, this makes complete sense and I think by doing so, Caro made a coherent narrative from what might otherwise read as a lot of dates, numbers, facts, and figures. This book is so weighted with numbers and data that having a strong narrative arc is essential to its legibility and coherence. Caro does a masterful job with this and the narrative imposed is convincing and feels true to the events and timeline of Moses' career.

In some ways, The Power Broker reads as a biography of New York City in the 20th Century, as much as it reads as a biography of Moses. New York City, for better or for worse (truly, both of these), would not be what it is today without the impact of Moses on its built environment and neighborhoods. It's easy to paint Moses with broad strokes as a villain in the city's history, but I think Caro does an excellent job articulating the evolution of Moses' ethics in public life and over the course of his career. He truly began as a reformer and did a lot to eject the ineffectual Tammany politics out of NYC governance, particularly in regards to the governance of public space in NYC. But Moses was not above corruption, and his hunger for power and recognition led him to essentially the same avenues of dubious ethics, in his case the ethically questionable contracts that were this 20th Century 'reformer's (technically-legal-but-in-spirit-no-better-than-Tammany-Hall) answer to Getting Things Done.

I appreciated that Caro took a nuanced approach in exploring this controversial figure; I am by no means a Moses fan, but I appreciated that Caro's lengthy biography necessarily grapples with the nuance of Moses' past. Caro clearly illustrates Moses' journey from idealist and honest reformer in his 20s to the pinnacle of his career when he had amassed considerable power and insularity and was basically untouchable. Caro does not shy away from the very obvious negatives of Moses' impact, including Moses' racism and how he reinforced this bigotry in the built environment, as well as his distaste for the poor, as shown again and again in his policies and projects. In some of the later chapters in particular, Caro paints a grim picture about how far back Moses set NYC and Long Island by denying obvious (planning- and finance-wise) expansion opportunities for mass transit.

I've said this before, but one of my favorite things about the 2021 adaptation of "West Side Story" was its inclusion of the urban renewal subplot of the development of Lincoln Center (yet another Moses brainchild); this actual event was in the works as of the mid-1950s but I don't think the full effect of its construction and development was fully felt at the time of the original musical and 1961 film's creation. I think it is a clever (and realistic) backdrop to a story that includes significant themes of social and racial upheaval in NYC.

I mention this movie connection because I think The Power Broker is a classic of non-fiction and biographic literature largely because of the staying power of its themes—most notably of power and how it is amassed and used to various ends in politics and government, and its impacts on people in cities. In the 21st Century we theoretically understand the devastating effects of urban renewal projects and the importance of garnering constituent support for various capital improvement endeavors AND YET even in Philadelphia over the last year, residents battled elected officials bent on shoehorning an unpopular and costly arena project into the heart of Chinatown (just this week the arena developers announced their plans to instead stay in South Philadelphia's stadium district, to the immense relief of residents and activists across the city and the chagrin of the politicians who had been trying to make a buck). Robert Moses' impact in creating and shaping bad public process for the better part of the 20th Century in NYC has lessons all of us need as we engage with our city and state governments.

In summary, it was an excellent book and I'm glad I read it. I think if you are interested in the topics I mentioned, you might find it worth reading, or perhaps you might enjoy a more abbreviated experience in the form of the 99% Invisible podcast to get the highlights. And if you made it this far, thanks for reading!!

/ / / 

p.s. In November I visited the New York-Historical Society and got to see TWO exhibits related to The Power Broker—one set of cases was dedicated to an exhibit for the 50th anniversary of its publishing (on view through early August 2025), and another (standing) exhibit covered Robert Caro's writing process. My friend Julie (of co-Power-Broker-book-club-of-two-reading-fame) recommended to me the documentary "Turn Every Page" about Robert Caro and his editor, Robert Gottlieb, which I am also planning to watch at some point. These were all great things to accompany the reading experience!

some utpol thoughts

With MWEG colleagues Emma Addams and Laura Eyi at the Utah Supreme Court hearing in July 2023.

 
As promised—some helpful links in reference to the Utah politics video I posted:

St. George News: "The Utah Supreme Court checked the Utah Legislature again. What now?" — this is a really great overview of the Amendment D debacle, some background, as well as what we might expect in the future.

Better Boundaries is the organization which was created to run the original ballot initiative for an independent redistricting commission in Utah. They are a great source of information and good to follow for the latest happenings on the issue in Utah.

Campaign Legal Center is a fantastic organization that is representing the plaintiffs in the redistricting case in Utah. They have really helpful resources as well as detailed information on all the legal proceedings, with links to the various court filings and decisions. Here is their landing page for LWV Utah and MWEG v. Utah State Legislature.

Below I've listed out the Campaign Legal Center press releases related to the redistricting case and Amendment D, with a link to the court documents where helpful/applicable (in descending chronological order; most recent first).

The 3rd district court decision linked on this page also has an exceptionally thorough background of the redistricting process in 2021-2022 that predicated the litigation:


And finally, here is some background information on "Count My Vote" 2014 initiative, SB54, and how this resulted in Utah's hybrid primary election system (whereby candidates can get on the ballot via the convention process or through collecting signatures). As I mention in the video, with Senator Curt Bramble's retirement from the Utah State Senate, I think we can anticipate additional challenges to this process by the state legislature, since Sen. Bramble will no longer be a legislator in the upcoming session and won't be able to defend the promises and commitments he and other legislators had made to Utahns at the time of this initiative and subsequent compromise legislation.