The Nonfiction Edit

Processed with VSCO with c1 preset

Diclaimer: This list is not any sort of authoritative list of the best nonfiction reads of all time. This is simply a collection of ten diverse reads, which offer excellent reportage, compelling prose, and unique approaches to educating readers. On this list you’ll find some excellent antiracist reads, urgent #MeToo stories, fascinating books that explore the mental health crisis in America, a wonderful grammar guide, and a couple of deep dives into international politics. The books that have made this list are both meticulously researched and offer unique access points into important subject areas. I think point-of-view is an oft-overlooked mode of evaluating nonfiction books, and this list is mostly centered around stories told from compelling viewpoints that don’t pretend to be totally objective. I hope this list will include some interesting titles for lifelong learners looking for new topics to explore.

Patrick Radden Keefe’s Say Nothing is the perfect book on this list for anyone who would usually opt for a thriller or true crime read over a sleepy history book. In this fascinating history of the Irish Troubles, Radden Keefe begins with the nearly 50 year-old mystery of the 1972 murder of Jean McConville—a mother of ten who was abducted from her home and murdered by the IRA. He then delves into the violent conflict between the IRA and Northern Irish loyalists, a conflict that severed families and destroyed entire communities. Radden Keefe is also fascinated with IRA terrorists like Dolours Price, a key part of the London car bombings, and other political radicals who were disappointed by the shaky peace agreement reached in 1998. Not only is this one of the most meticulously researched books I’ve ever come across, but it is also a fascinating tale of murder, guilt, morality, and the sacrifice of loyalty. An incredibly well-crafted book about one of the most brutal periods in Ireland’s history, Radden Keefe has authored a propulsive and devastating piece of reportage. Read my full review here.

Lisa Taddeo’s Three Women is an incredibly unique feat of the genre, one that offers an unprecedented level of intimacy with its subjects. Taddeo’s debut book required her to spend years embedded in the lives of the three women whom she writes about, covering their sexual and emotional lives with a great deal of clarity and nuance. First there is Maggie, a North Dakota high school student who was groomed and then raped by her teacher, a man whom she initially trusted and even claimed to love. The emotional manipulation that he puts her through is absolutely devastating, and even worse is the fact that Maggie has still not seen justice even after reporting. Next is Sloane, a wealthy and glamorous restauranteur married to a man that enjoys involving other parties into their sex life and engaging in voyeurism. Sloane’s story is perhaps the most unsatisfying of the three, but Taddeo digs deep into her psyche without offering any judgment which feels very powerful. Last is Lina, a midwestern woman trapped in a loveless marriage with a man that won’t kiss her, who begins an affair with her old high school boyfriend. In this (albeit very white-centric) book about female desire and sexuality, Taddeo offers a reading experience unlike any other.

This book is an excellent read for anyone looking for a unique insight into a very specific part of America’s racist history. In The Color of Law, Richard Rothstein chronicles how the U.S. government’s city planning, especially in urban areas, was a purposeful effort to push communities of color into low-income housing to seal them off from the white population. This practice, called redlining—where the most at-risk communities are literally outlined red on maps, is a form of de jure segregation, i.e. segregation by laws. The Color of Law traces the far-reaching effects of these racist practices, including increased resistance to integration, unequal housing and educational facilities, and violence toward communities of color. This book is absolutely crucial to understanding how deeply embedded segregation is in America, even as laws are being passed and strides are being made, Rothstein exposes the ways in which the U.S. government has upheld institutionalized racism for decades through redlining and other oppressive practices.

Ronan Farrow’s Catch and Kill, the first of two #MeToo books you’ll find on this list, is the fascinating story of journalist Ronan Farrow’s effort to break the initial sexual harassment and rape allegations against legendary Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein. His reporting unleashed a title wave of testimonials from women in a variety of industries who were abused by men in positions of power, and Farrow was then involved in breaking many of these explosive stories (Matt Lauer, Les Moonves, etc.) Farrow writes about the myriad struggles he faced trying to get his work published—his superiors at NBC repeatedly killed the story despite the insurmountable evidence that Farrow had compiled, which seemed to be a combination of fear that their own bad actions could be somehow called into question, and a reluctance to believe or value the women’s stories. Farrow describes how hard it was to get the victims to trust him with their stories, women who were not at all unfamiliar with being silenced or manipulated. It ought to be mentioned that Farrow has a personal connection to this story—his sister Dylan was raped as a child by their father Woody Allen—and thus he lends the story a real humanity, and sensitivity to the stories that he is responsible for telling. This book is tough, but you’ll want to read it in one sitting.

Hidden Valley Road is a prime example of the stranger-than-fiction genre. In this engaging and often-shocking read, Robert Kolker provides an in-depth account of the Galvin family of Colorado Springs, Colorado, six of whose twelve children ended up being diagnosed with schizophrenia. This book is a devastating portrayal of how mental illness can ravage a family: financially, emotionally, and socially. Kolker dives into the very complicated relationships between the six schizophrenic boys and their well parents and siblings, relationships filled with physical violence and emotional manipulation. In addition to this devastating but incredibly engrossing family story, Kolker reports on the history of schizophrenia research, explaining the many theories based on studies conducted throughout the decades, some of which the Galvins participated in. Hidden Valley Road is a deeply troubling account of a family consumed by a mental illness that is not yet fully understood, and Kolker’s conjuring of these real and fascinating characters draws the reader into this nuanced account of the mental health crisis in America.

Yes, She Said is the second book on this list about the reporting of the Harvey Weinstein sex abuse scandal that opened the door for a flood of #MeToo stories. This books is on the list because I think it brings something unique to the table: it approaches the story more from a journalistic and legal lens, focusing more on the institutional factors of publishing accusations of sexual misconduct. Kantor and Twohey, the two women who broke the story for the New York Times, detail the ins-and-outs of speaking with sources, following the very complicated legal procedures necessary to getting the story ready for publication, and the subsequent threats they received from Weinstein’s legal team. This book is about the journalistic stakes of publishing such a powerful story, and the many institutional and financial barriers in the way of speaking openly about sexual abuse and harassment. Kantor and Twohey also write about their roles aiding Dr. Christine Blasey Ford in testifying at Brett Kavanaugh’s Supreme Court confirmation hearing, and the incredible amount of obstacles that Dr. Ford surmounted in making an accusation of sexual misconduct. This books is a testament to the incredible amount of dedication and courage it takes to begin to dismantle the patriarchal power structures in place. Read my full review here.

The Great Pretender is a fascinating deep dive into a landmark study on psychiatric facilitates in America—proving that the answers to our deepest questions surrounding mental health are much more complicated than we even realize. Cahalan begins with a 1973 study, where Stanford professor Dr. David Rosenhan and eight volunteers (all with no history of mental illness) checked themselves into psychiatric hospitals, claiming no symptoms except a voice in their head that repeated a single phrase. The goal of the study was to find out if psychiatric professionals could tell the difference between their mentally ill patients and these fakes. In the study, Rosenhan and his participants were mostly diagnosed as schizophrenic, and each of them chronicled the terrible conditions in the facility—and the study created a huge wave of anti-psychiatric treatment sentiment in America upon its publication. However, Cahalan dives deeper into the study, exposing the ways in which Rosenhan appears to have altered or conjured up data to fit his own motives. What emerges is a complicated and fascinating examination of the history of psychiatry in America. Read my full review here.

Ibram X. Kendi’s hefty volume, Stamped From the Beginning, has become a definitive work of antiracist literature. Kendi begins with the early years of the slave economy in America, tracing the history of oppression from its earliest roots all the way to the present day, where violence against black bodies is not uncommon. This is an impeccably reported and meticulously researched historical account, which manages to capture the nuanced public sentiments and popular ideologies surrounding race in each era that it visits. Kendi delineates three main categories of thought toward race: pure segregationist racism, assimilationism (also a form of racism), and true antiracism; and he positions important politicians and thinkers in these three main categories, adequately capturing the nuance of each. This is a book that readers will find themselves wanting to underline every sentence of, and it is an excellent starting point for understanding the far-reaching and deeply entrenched symptoms of racism in America.

I could not leave Suki Kim’s fascinating memoir Without You There is No Us off of this list, it is perhaps the best example of the importance of perspective in nonfiction. This book is a true account of Kim’s six months at an elite North Korean boys school, Pyongyang University of Science and Technology (PUST), where she taught English to the sons of powerful politicians and businessmen in North Korea. Kim writes about the all-encompassing surveillance she was put under—all of her correspondence was monitored, as was her speech. Her tenure at PUST lines up with the final six months of Kim Jong-il’s life, and the seemingly indomitable reverence that her students have for the supreme leader and his family troubles Kim greatly. While she is mostly saddened by her students’ lack of knowledge around anything separate from their duty to their fatherland, she is delighted by the brief flashes of curiosity that the boys show in her class, proving that there is no government powerful enough to fully police human thought. This book—the writing of which obviously posed a serious threat to its author—is an unprecedented and sensitive look at life in North Korea, leaning into the mystery and secrecy of such a restrictive society.

And finally, I will close the list with this positively delightful guide to grammar and style from the longtime copy chief at Random House, Benjamin Dreyer. Dreyer’s English is a fascinating manual for anyone interested in improving the clarity of their writing, but its also simply an enjoyable read for literary-types looking for a laugh. Dreyer has gained a following on Twitter for his witty corrections of Trump’s poorly written tweets, and in this book he continues to poke fun at our not quite literate commander in chief. Dreyer also demystifies some eternal questions surrounding grammar and punctuation, advocating for correctness with a dash of poetic license. This book is not for grammar snobs, or anyone who takes themselves too seriously, but rather a fun and quite erudite exploration of the power of clear and concise writing. Dreyer is an excellent writer and consummate professional, and this lovely book has something to teach everyone.