Saturday, December 30, 2017

Recently Read, 2017

She was a stray after all. A stray not only in its plantation meaning—orphaned, with no one to look after her—but in every other sphere as well. Somewhere, years ago, she had stepped off the path of life and could no longer find her way back to the family of people.

Colson Whitehead, The Underground Railroad


"But Dab is gone--you know how long he's gone for? The whole rest of his life and my life, too.  I been crying for me bein by myself, too. Dab and I...Dab and I..." Tree could not finish. She had no words to describe how alone together they had been. How she loved her brother!

Virginia Hamilton, Sweet Whispers, Brother Rush


I watch Fo'ty Ounce help Mrs. Pearl. People around here don't have much, but they help each other out best they can. It's this strange, dysfunctional-as-hell family, but it's still a family. More than I realized until recently.
     "Starr!" Nana calls from the front door. People two streets over probably hear her like they heard Fo'ty Ounce. "Your momma said hurry up. You gotta get ready. Hey, Pearl!"
     Mrs. Pearl shields her eyes and looks our way. "Hey, Adele! Haven't seen you in a while. You all right?"
     "Hanging in there, girl. You got that flowerbed looking good! I'm coming over later to get some of that Birds of Paradise."
     "All right."
     "You no gon' say hey to me Adele?" Fo'ty Ounce asks. When he talks, it jumbled together like one long word.
     "Hell nah, you old fool," Nana says. The door slams behind her.
     Daddy, Uncle Carlos, and I crack up.

Angie Thomas, The Hate You Give


Insofar as our children resemble us, they are our most precious admirers, and insofar as they differ, they can be our most vehement detractors. From the beginning, we tempt them into imitation of us and long for what may be life's most profound compliment: their choosing to live according to our own system of values. Though many of us take pride in how different we are from our parents, we are endlessly sad at how different our children are from us.

Andrew Solomon, Far From The Tree: Parents, Children, and the Search for Identity


"What is truth?" Sometimes people ask this question because they wish to do nothing. Generic cynicism makes us feel hip and alternative even as we slip along with our fellow citizens into a morass of indifference. It is your ability to discern facts that make you an individual, and our collective trust in common knowledge that makes us a society. The individual who investigates is also the citizen who builds. The leader who dislikes the investigators is a potential tyrant.

During his campaign, the president claimed on a Russian propaganda outlet that American "media has been unbelievably dishonest." He banned many reporters from his rallies, and regularly elicited hatred of journalists from the public. Like the leaders of authoritarian regimes, he promised to suppress freedom of speech by laws that would prevent criticism. Like Hitler, the president used the word lies to mean statements of fact not to his liking, and presented journalism as a campaign against himself.

Timothy Snyder, On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons From the Twentieth Century