Greg Walklin -

2024 Year in Reading

January 7th, 2025
This year I read, not intentionally, an equal number of fiction and nonfiction books for the very first time; usually my reading has been dominated by fiction. This year I also didn’t set particular goals for my reading, unlike the last several years, hoping to pursue books I found engaging—and not trying to meet a demand or quota. (Sorry to my Goodreads friends!)

I did encounter a number of excellent titles, however.

Best Nonfiction

Fredrick Douglass: Prophet of Freedom, by David Blight, the last book of nonfiction I read in 2024, stood out as the best, and that’s even considering recency bias. I started this to find out a bit more about Douglass, who is appearing in fictionalized form in a short story that I’ve been reworking. I really appreciated how Blight attempted to delve into Douglass psychologically, trying to figure out such oddities as why he would propose going on an international trip with his mistress and his oldest daughter at the same time, or how the deaths of his grandchildren and problems with his own children’s careers may have affected him.

Blight was also pretty insightful on the political climate during Reconstruction, and his portrayal of Lincoln really jumped off the page. Lincoln’s cabinet sessions, complained Treasury Secretary Salman Chase, were just “meetings for jokes.” Chase wanted more serious affairs, apparently. I think meetings with Abe sound pretty great. This book is essential reading for anyone interested in this period of American history.

Best Fiction

My favorite—by a long shot—was Katie Kitamura’s Intimacies, a novel that reminded me of Javier Marías in all the good ways: lonely protagonist (a translator, to boot) touching upon truly disturbing things and lecherous men, all set in a murky Europe. At one point the narrator muses how a new relationship allowed one “the opportunity to be someone other than yourself.” Her involvement in some legal proceedings, regarding an ex-head of state and war criminal, resonated with me (as an attorney):

But I no longer believed that equanimity was either tenable or desirable. It corroded everything inside. I had never met a person with greater equanimity than the former president. But this applied to all of them—to the prosecution and the defense, to the judges and even the other interpreters. They were able to work. They had the right temperament for the job. But at what internal cost?

The lack of other fiction stirring me as much this year as other years is probably more of a reflection on me than it was the books I read. Georges Perec’s Life: A User’s Manual was a truly staggering and impressive assemblage of stories, and the newest Han Kang novel, Greek Lessons, was a cutting book that blazed through as quick as I can. Kang is more than deserving of the Nobel.

I just as quickly gobbled up Richard Powers’ latest novel, Playground, and it taught me much about the amazing things lurking just below the surface of the oceans. (I also was struck by the discussions in that book of the philosopher Nikolai Fedorovich Fedorov and his idea of “The Common Task,” an idea I can’t stop thinking about.) The one that most disappointed me, even though it had some bright spots, was Álvaro Enrique’s newest, You Dreamed of Empires; but that was perhaps only because I had enjoyed his tennis novel Sudden Death so much. (My review of it was published over at Literal Magazine.)

Best Poetry

Like in 2023, I read a bit more poetry than I had in years past—which, again, was intentional, both for a change of pace and because I have found myself tinkering with writing more verse myself (My first published poem appeared this year in The Bookends Review.) Deaf Republic by Ilya Kaminsky was the favorite for me in 2024. It straddles the line somewhere between a play and a series of connected poems, as all are about one Ukrainian town’s struggle against a Russian invasion. Kaminsky’s model was not the latest Russian invasion of Ukraine, but its previous incursions. It’s tragic, sharp, focuses on a brutal and—still—shines light on a timely event in the world.

I did also enjoy Roger Reeves’ collection Best Barbarian, and will think, no doubt annually, of how he describes pear trees: “a revelation to itself each spring.”

Going back to some T.S. Eliot on a recommendation from my boss was refreshing for how poetry used to be written. There I came across a passage I remembered quite well from “Little Gidding”:

We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

I could not place where I had last heard it. But by sheer coincidence I was rewatching “Interstellar,” right around the time of reading the poem, and it occurred to me that the poem would make quite an apposite epigraph for the film. As it turns out, it was used in voiceover for the trailer. (Dylan Thomas’ verse is used more frequently in the film itself, although the Eliot is better IMHO.)

“Little Gidding” works as a good metaphor for reading, frankly, too.

Legal Highlights

My nonfiction reads always tilt heavily toward the law and legal-related topics, given my profession. To that end I enjoyed several legal books again this year:
- I read a short volume of American Legal History, which prompted me to pick up Ronald Dworkin’s Law’s Empire (still working through that one).
- Antonin Scalia’s lecture A Matter of Interpretation, which was, along with some responses, collected in a book, proved to be thought-provoking on the ever-relevant topic of Textualism and statutory interpretation (and just enjoyable to read—Scalia was such an excellent prose writer).
- Dahlia Lithwick’s Lady Justice, which focused on various female attorneys’ cases against the Trump Administration, as well as The Chickenshit Club by Jesse Eisinger, touching on the failure of the Department of Justice under President Obama to prosecute those responsible for the 2008 financial crisis, proved to give one keen insight on how high-profile attorneys operate day-to-day—and perhaps some of their failings.
- Lastly, Joan Biskupic’s biography of Chief Justice John Roberts (The Chief) was equally insightful about how a high-profile attorney’s career ascended to such heights. It had been on my list for a while. I’m not sure it has wholly answered my questions about what John Roberts really thinks, though that is probably always going to be an enigma.
Audiobooks

I have only recently started seriously enjoying audiobooks. The one highlight for me was finally listening to Andy Serkis’ rendition of The Hobbit. I picked up the rest of “The Lord of the Rings,” and “The Silmarillion,” as read by Serkis, and will plan on enjoying those at some point, perhaps in lieu of reading the actual books again. Experiencing a book you’ve read several times before as an audiobook provides a new dimension, I think, and it’s a fun way to revisit the classics.
Review of “Winter’s Fury”

June 2nd, 2024

My review of Perla Suez’s novel “Winter’s Fury” has gone up over at Literal Magazine.

This book offered quite a change of pace for me—it was a short, matter-of-fact tale covering a slice of history I wasn’t otherwise aware. It was understated, but not vague, and had a kicker of an ending.

From the review:

Suez’s novel ably shows the immense dangers of unthinking, and gives a new twist to Socrates’ proclamation about the unexamined life.
Review of “You Dreamed of Empires”

April 24th, 2024

My review of Álvaro Enrigue’s latest novel has gone up over at Literal Magazine. I loved Enrigue’s last novel, “Sudden Death,” in part because I’m a long time tennis player, but also because few authors I’ve read seem to really nail historical fiction in the way he does—by achieving a voice to the writing that makes the characters and situations truly feel like they happened a long time ago. (Hilary Mantel was one of the others.)

You’ll have to read the review to see if I liked “You Dreamed of Empires” as much as “Sudden Death.” Writing the review was mostly a battle with autocorrect for correctly spelling “Enrigue” and not “Enrique.”
The Siege of Baghdad

February 13th, 2024

My first published poem, “The Siege of Baghdad,” is live over at The Bookends Review. It’s about a topic I’ve found myself writing on “again and again.”
Review of “Cross Stitch”

January 31st, 2024

My review of Jazmina Barrera’s novel Cross Stitch is live over at Literal Magazine. You can read it here.

This novel definitely made me think twice about all of the weaving, stitching, and other similar metaphors I’ve used in reviews and essays.
Review of “House of Geishas”

January 10th, 2024

My review of Ana María Shua’s microfiction collection “House of Geishas” is now up over at Literal Magazine. From the review:

Ana María Shua may be one of the best living practitioners of [microfiction]. Though the Argentinian has written novels, poetry, and children’s books, she is best known for her microfiction, often described as the “queen” of the genre. Indeed, there is so much going on in the pages of House of Geishas, but somehow more going on off the page, which is a credit to the author’s ability. In the book, she demonstrates her complete mastery of the form, providing incisive and cutting tales that question, wound, bemuse, and befuddle.
Reading 2023

December 30th, 2023

For the last 15 years, I’ve been tracking my reading. I thought I’d share a post with some of the notable things I’ve read in 2023.

After all these years, though, I’ve come to see tracking as double-edged sword. On one side of the blade, tracking gives one strong insights into what information one has digested, fictional worlds entered, and lets one look back and remember books one may have otherwise forgotten. On the other side, all of this tracking can sometimes making reading seem to be “another thing,” or a task to check off a list.

While I intend to keep tracking in 2024, I may sit out the “challenge” in Goodreads. Reading, for me, is something I find personally engaging and fulfilling—it’s not a competition.

Tools

I use Apple Notes to keep the running list, along with other detailed information, but I also track in Goodreads and using the BookTracker iOS app.

Highlights

This year I finally read Founding Brothers by Joseph Ellis. I’d read his most recent book, American Dialogue, connecting the founders with contemporary issues, and had snagged a hardback of this Pulitzer-winner at a library sale. “Founding Brothers” was astonishing—I find Ellis to be much more engaging than some of the other historians of the period, especially psychologically. I’m recommending Ellis to anyone who loves reading about the founders as much as I do. I purchased a copy of “American Dialogue” as a gift for my dad.

Demon Copperhead, Barbara Kingsolver’s latest, was the finest novel I read this past year. It’s a masterpiece. This was the first Kingsolver book for me, after a glowing recommendation from my wife. Her characters are rich and so distinctly clear products of their environment and upbringing, something not often seen in the American literary fiction I’ve read, at least.There is more Kingsolver in my future.

One of the six books I reviewed this year, Fernanda Melchor’s This is Not Miami, was perhaps the finest. And it’s also my favorite book of the year, alongside “Demon Copperhead” and “The Family Roe” (more on that last one later). If you want to see more of my thoughts on it, head overto Literal Magazine.

The Tyranny of Merit, by Michael Sandel, was another one of those nonfiction books I’ve read recently that has clarified my perspective on things. His central insight is that the rhetorical or political focus (often by Democrats) on meritocracy has an insidious side, that of making folks who didn’t “win” the meritocracy—really, most of us—feel disillusioned while those that did—say, the Harvards and Yalies—feel that they deserve their success perhaps more than they really do. Sandel is self-aware enough that being a Harvard professor doesn’t interfere with his clear understanding and clear-eyed insight into the way his students have changed, but not for the better.

Lastly, The Family Roe was perhaps the best nonfiction book I read in 2023. It took Joshua Prager a decade to write it, but the effort was worth it. Prager is not an apologist for the court decision, nor a loather of it, instead focusing on the people involved: from unhappy and enigmatic Norma McCorvey, or “Jane Roe,” to the eccentric lawyers, and even more eccentric (and tragic) abortion opponent Mildred Jefferson. He discovered a lot of new information, especially about McCorvey. The book also makes one think hard about the role of courts and legislatures when it comes to abortion—but not in a partisan or black-and-white manner.

Old Fiction Favorites

More novels this year by Toni Morrison; Richard Dooling (my old law prof!); Don DeLillo (Cosmopolis, which might be the finest book of his I’ve read); Cormac McCarthy; and Richard Yates, among others.

The Supreme Court

Perhaps because I’ve returned to the practice of law, my reading on legal things has stepped up this year. Among the selections: Supreme Inequality by Adam Cohen; The Shadow Docket by Stephen Vladeck; “The Family Roe,” Showdown: Thurgood Marshall and the Supreme Court Nomination that Changed America by Wil Haygood; and The Most Dangerous Branch by David Kaplan. The Kaplan was a nice balm for me, with good critical analysis of activism by both the “conservative” and “liberal” justices, which was needed after reading the more left-leaning critique of Cohen. It’s a strong defense of judicial minimalism. Vladeck’s analysis of SCOTUS’ usage of its non-opinion writing power—a good recent example of “judicial triumphalism,” I bet Kaplan would think—was also fairly balanced, it seemed to me, even if Justice Alito apparently hates him and Vladeck is transparent about leaning left. Haygood, meanwhile, further convinced me that Thurgood Marshall would have been a top-25 American of all time, even if he hadn’t served on the Supreme Court. (Though Kaplan did note that, despite his overwhelming greatness as a lawyer, Marshall sometimes may have phoned it in on the top bench.)

Poetry

In 2023, I read a bit more poetry than I have in years past—seven or so full length books of verse. First, I kicked off the year by finally reading through all of the original edition of “Leaves of Grass,” having read bits of Whitman for years, ever since I crashed a Whitman conference on campus as a college student.

The highlight was Donald Justice’s New and Selected Poems. I’d never encountered Justice, the “poet’s poet” before, but I found his poems to be engaging and startlingly relevant. (“Men at Forty” being the most on the nose.) Perhaps it was this poetry reading that inspired me to start submitting poems of my own. (My first published poem, “The Siege of Baghdad,” is forthcoming at Bookends Review.) Other highlights include a series of poems from the perspectives of jurors by Rita Dove, and several startling Louis Glück verses.
Throwback to “Space Tears”

December 17th, 2023

My short story “Space Tears Can Hurt” was featured over at Pulp Literature’s Throwback Thursday. You can buy a copy of the journal with “Space Tears” in it directly from Pulp online. Digital is only $5.
Review of “Rivermouth”

October 27th, 2023

My review of Alejandra Oliva’s “Rivermouth: A Chrinoncle of Language, Faith, and Migration” is now live over at Literal Magazine. From the review:

In the book, Oliva interweaves her own life as a bilingual child of Mexican immigrants with the frustrations and exigencies of the southern border of the United States: its bureaucracy, the inhumanity, and frustrations. The book straddles the line somewhere between memoir, philosophical meditation, and policy criticism. It is most successful when Oliva uses her sophisticated views on translation as an entré into immigration.

There was a lot to like in this book, but I would only recommend it to someone particularly interested in translation.
Space Janitors

October 14th, 2023

Reading this story the other day—about the first efforts to systematically clean up the debris orbiting the planet—couldn’t help but remind me of my short story “Space Tears Can Hurt,” which was published over at the lovely journal Pulp Literature in 2016.

“Space Tears” is a sort of #MeToo story that took place aboard a craft dedicated to cleaning up junk. I’d first learned about such debris in a law school “Space Law” class, and it felt like the perfect place to stage a subversive sci-fi story.

Best Nonfiction

Best Fiction

Best Poetry

Legal Highlights

Audiobooks

Tools

Highlights

Old Fiction Favorites

The Supreme Court

Poetry