Three weeks in and I’m still reading one book every day during this COVID-19 quarantine.

DAY 15: I LOVE DICK

I’m not sure why I waited to long to read Chris Kraus’s half-fiction, half-memoir, I Love Dick, except that I was either prudish or sheepish about reading such bold a title outside the privacy of my home. (Prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, I was home only to shower and sleep; else, I’m out of the house). Now that there’s no fear of public shame in sight, I devoured the book in one sitting. Underlined voraciously. Nodded to no one but myself. Where to begin?

Without context (except a deceptively raunchy title), the book starts off a little strange, vapid even—but this stream-of-consciousness format (present-day narration mixed with letters, transcribed phone calls, and the occasional fax) soon become insight into the narrator’s innermost workings. It’s a real-time account of a woman who frees herself from the world-at-large—the patriarchy—and in doing so, finds epiphany in her unrequited letters of lovelust.

“There is no female ‘I’ in the existing patriarchal language,” she writes, but in writing these letters, she discovers it.

DAY 16: ICON

On concept alone, I love Icon—and I hope it either becomes the fist of a series, or inspires the creation of other compilations with the same premise. This kind of devotion between a woman and her icon feels so unique to the female existence: there’s something girlish about it, and in its naïveté, is an embodiment of expression and reverence at its finest.

“No, Fisher was not like me. None of the writers I love are. They see and notice and understand only what they see and write and understand with their own bodies, their own eyes and mouth and hearts, not what I would. That is the reason writing matters, the reason reading matters. These acts of thinking and feeling and writing are all we have.”

Amen.

DAY 17: IRIS APFEL, ACCIDENTAL ICON

Speaking of icons: Iris Apfel, self-proclaimed “accidental icon” and true geriatric starlet! True, her autobiographical tome was more photography than words, but I was in need of a lighthearted, easy read. It’s silly, it’s superficial, but there’s no denying that Apfel is an icon for centuries to come.

I adore her so.

DAY 18: TRICK MIRROR, REFLECTIONS ON SELF-DELUSION

This is easily one of the most brilliant books I’ve yet read—and easily a favorite of this one-book-a-day challenge (and of all time). Jia Tolentino is smart, clever, and a true talent. Trick Mirror is a must-read for all, especially if you’re a millennial or younger. (My own synopsis would do Tolentino injustice.)

DAYS 18 – 23

The next four books fell under the same theme. It was unintentional, but as it turns out: there is reason in everything, even in the seemingly meaningless. The first time I started reading The Signature of All Things, I was impatient. This time I was still antsy two chapters in, but by the third, I was enthralled. Elizabeth Gilbert is a master at storytelling and a champion of creating a life of your own design, even one set in the 1800s. It’s not about romance or love: it’s about a woman and her life’s work—and the passion, sacrifice, and triumph that comes with its relentless pursuit.

How fitting that, then, that my next book (Day 18) was The Invention of Nature: Alexander Von Humboldt’s New World. Though this one isn’t fiction, there is some crossover between Gilbert’s inspiration and Andrea Wulf’s illuminating of the oft-forgotten German scientist. How von Humboldt’s work isn’t studied more in schools is appalling: it’s the cornerstone in appreciating the physical world we live in, and had his findings been a part of the evergreen curriculum, we would not be in as dire of a predicament as we are in now. Even just acknowledging the physical impact—destruction, because there is no sugar-coating—resulting from colonialism would have opened more eyes to the truth. Or simply heeding his realization of nature as a “dominion of liberty.” Nature’s balance and ability to thrive is a direct result of diversity; he noted. Should that not be the “blueprint for moral and political truth?”

I cannot recommend this enough. If there are two books you need to read, it’s Trick Mirror and this biography.

On Day 19, I read The God of Small Things. I was distracted, admittedly, and therefore wasn’t able to enjoy it to its full potential—but I’m left spellbound (still) by Arundhati Roy’s lyricism.

I was still distracted. And yet I craved more of what The Signature of All Things and Alexander Von Humboldt’s biography had ignited—so with consideration for my mood du jour, I chose Mr. Wilson’s Cabinet of Wonders as my twentieth book. It’s slim, yes, but not without richness in content. Lawrence Weschler balances science and imagination with utter refinement. It’s storytelling at its best, science at its most fascinating, as fantasy. This easily could have been a chapter in any of the Harry Potter books dedicated to describing a magical shop or quirky professor’s study.

I Contain Multitudes: The Microbes Within Us and a Grander View of Life was my final pick of the week. I’m the first to admit that, as an adult, I have a propensity toward anything but science (apathy? laziness? superficiality?) but this week of science-driven readings has piqued my interest. There’s a newfound appreciation for the art required of its writers and revolutionaries, and Ed Yong’s book is an exemplary illustration of crossover between the left and right brain. He’s as witty as he is an authority on the subject; suddenly, the exploration of bacteria is as educational as it is entertaining for laymen.

Yong’s conclusion circles back to the discoveries of von Humboldt, and even before him, to what the ancient civilizations have always known before “Westernization” would destroy its most sacred beliefs. We are all connected.

And we must honor the world that has allowed us to live in it.

.   .   .

xx