What You Are Looking for is in the Grocery Store
Reading, as a distraction, is more necessary than ever
I don’t like to dwell on depressing things too much in this newsletter; generally I see it as a place for positive vibes about the books I want others to read. But this week, even in the midst of a work crisis, I can’t stop thinking of the story of Nex Benedict, the nonbinary 16-year old, Oklahoma student who died after being beaten in a bathroom in their high school. Their death was aided, maybe even foretold, by an Oklahoma law that banned trans students from bathrooms and an administration that wouldn’t even call an ambulance to help them. It’s a nightmare that echoes Matthew Shepard, and I hope it’s a call to action for anyone paying attention. I’ll share here the Facebook post I wrote, mainly to agitate the straight folks I grew up with.
I can't shake this news, and it has me wondering a lot of things.
In a world where algorithms, like the very one I'm feeding now, deliver only the news you're expected to want to hear, I wonder how many straight people are aware of this story that would normally be front page news if it weren't such an uncomfortable indictment on how bigotry kills.
I wonder if you're seeing the news about Nex Benedict as much as my friends and I in the community are.
I wonder how many would connect the dots to how policy shifts can lead directly to innocent deaths, and that this tragedy was the product of a concerted effort in Oklahoma to vilify and stigmatize trans & non-binary people.
I wonder what any other possible expected outcome can be when school districts put rules into place specifically targeting trans and non-binary youth.
I wonder when you're lazy enough to parrot and amplify that you're against some sort of nebulous "woke" culture, you know you're complicit in this kind of harm.
I wonder how you'd feel if they didn't call an ambulance for your child.
I wonder what you mean by "pro-life."
I wonder how you really ever participated in the fiction that trans and gender nonconforming folks were the most dangerous figures to encounter in a bathroom. It sure wasn't the case here.
Reading can serve as a healthy, life-saving distraction from the world. We need it more than ever. Here are some recent books that caught my attention.
THE LIBRARY IS OPEN
The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store
by James McBride (2023)
A strange and sad thing for me to admit in a literary newsletter is that I’ve never really connected with James McBride’s novels despite objectively understanding that he is a genius. Everyone, including the National Book Awards committee, loved The Good Lord Bird, and I struggled to make it through. I had an easier time with Deacon King Kong, but I found it all a little twee in the end. I figured that Heaven and Earth would be my last try before deciding that this was an author with whom I couldn’t jive. Also, notably, this book was difficult to escape if you’re even a casual reader. B&N and Amazon named it as their Book of the Year in 2023, and one of those stores *still* has human-sized copies of the book in their windows. On my last vacation, I noticed three (3!) empty pool chairs had copies of this book preventing towels from blowing away.
I’m glad I dug in. Everyone is right. The book is pretty great. Picture it: Pottstown, PA in the 1930s, the neighborhood of Chicken Hill is where Jewish immigrants landed once upon a time and where Black residents had always lived. The Jewish folks that remain behind and run the eponymous grocery store and nightclub venues establish an easy peace with Black residents. The story revolves around a body found at the body of a well (exhumed in 1972, as the novel begins with a flash forward) and a young man who is taken away to a sinister hospital after witnessing an act of depravity. The story starts out slow, meanders quite a bit into side stories, but coalesces into something rather special.
Now, there was never a point in my mind that I thought we’d end up anywhere but where we ended up. The first chapter unearths a corpse, and it’s fairly obvious who that corpse ends up being. If you’re looking for a tight plot that solves the mystery of the body in the well, this is not it. But I suppose predictability doesn’t matter much when it’s a story so well told, and when such a gifted author shines a new light on the American history of immigration, racism, and the treatment of the mentally ill.
Funnish fact: One of the nights I was reading this novel was at a bar in Harrisburg, PA while waiting for an event to begin and after driving through Pottstown where it’s set.
Read it if you like: the consensus book of the year, immigrant narratives, heartwarming stories, Pennsylvania history, light comedy.
How We Named the Stars
by Andrés N. Ordorica (2024)
Everyone remembers their first love. For many queer folks this initiation into the world of love can be a bit more complicated because you may be in love with a straight person who not only doesn’t reciprocate your feelings but also presents mysterious enough that it requires a dance to determine what sexual orientation they are. Does this person even have the capacity to lust after me like I’ve been doing? Who knows! It’s all part of the fun/torture. In this debut novel, an impactful first love takes center stage as a relationship that ends up affecting the rest of the life of our protagonist in myriad ways.
Sad alert: I should let you know right away that Daniel, our hero, tells us within a few paragraphs of the novel that Sam is dead. Sam, a sensitive joke with abs of steel, is the object of his affection and his freshman year roommate. This is a scenario that most of us dream of, but rarely comes true. (In case he’s reading, my freshman year roommate and I are still good friends, and he was/is very handsome and nice!) Daniel is a scholarship student at a stand-in college for Cornell - Ithaca is described in great detail and made me want to plan another trip to the Finger Lakes. The relationship takes flight in some surprising ways, but it can’t be what Daniel needs or wants as an idealized first love experience.
Daniel’s family came to the U.S. from Mexico, leaving after the death of his young uncle, for whom he was named, many years ago. Daniel navigates his crush on a very flirty and inscrutable Sam until a tragedy occurs which upends everything. He is called to go back to his hometown of Chihuahua in Mexico to tend to his abuelo, who is depressed about missing home and trying to make sense of the death of his son years ago. On this trip, Daniel also gets to know more about the uncle he never met and how he may have had a lot in common with him. He also gets to see where he fits into a larger family within a culture he felt like was slipping away from him in his new northeastern home. Also, a hot guy named Diego takes interest in him.
This novel is lovely and bittersweet. I knew it would be sad going in, but I was surprised at how joyful it was to hear about a queer young man’s first love and his journey navigating a crush that may never be reciprocated. The novel becomes strong, though, because of Daniel’s trip to his hometown to get to know himself and his uncle. I really enjoyed this book, tearing through the last half in one big gulp, and I can’t wait to see what Ordorica does next.
Read it if you like: queer love stories, but ones that aren’t simple romances, college narratives, Mexico, complicated families.
What You Are Looking For is in the Library
by Michiko Aoyama (Alison Watts, translator) (2020)
I basically grew up in libraries. My mom is a librarian and worked in various flavors of them while I was growing up, whether it was our town library in a repurposed fire house or a middle school library in a rural district. One of my favorite days of the year as a kid was getting to go to my mom’s middle school’s library with a box and throw anything in that I wanted to read for the summer. I am currently an evangelist for the Philadelphia Free Library, except for the fact that a couple of years ago they reduced the number of books one can have on hold from 10 to 6, completely destroying the strategic routine I developed to get the electronic books I wanted most quickly.
So, it was not a surprise that I was completely charmed by this book, which is pretty much a paean to library culture and all the wonderful ripple effects that occur from immersing oneself in it. The book, translated from the Japanese, features a kindly librarian with maybe magical powers to know exactly what the patrons of her library are looking for. Whether they want it or not, she gives it to them. She knows what they’re looking for, and what they’re looking for is in, wait for it, the library. I kept thinking of a repurposed 30 Rock meme while reading the book.
The book consists of 5 short stories that all take the same form, and the stories build on one another. Someone goes into the library with a problem, the librarian recommends a book that doesn’t seem helpful, and then that book is very helpful. Are the solutions to everyone’s problems simple? Yes, kind of! Does the book feel a little fluffy and lightweight? It does! Is it a charming departure from literally everything else happening in the world right now? Yes! And that’s why I enjoyed the day that I spent with it. You might too.
Read it if you like: stories in translation, magical librarian, Miyazaki movies, feeling good, people’s dreams coming true.
LIGHTNING ROUND
Everyone seemed to love this book but me! I thought it was really good, but I didn’t love it. I’m the problem, most likely. You should read it.
The Smiths songs were ranked in order of greatness, and I disagree with the order. But that’s why lists are so great.
Do our current crop of college students…still know how to read?! Signs are pointing to no.
Until next time…happy reading!