Little Book Review: Nonfiction Round-Up (May-December 2022)
Waking the Tiger by Peter A. Levine (1997): a self-help book with a somatic approach to dealing with trauma symptoms. It contained some advice that was useful at my old job. Unfortunately, I was too traumatized from said job to concentrate properly on the audiobook, so I was kind of in a Catch-22.
The Nineties by Chuck Klosterman (2022): A deliciously disconcerting series of essays about the fractured last decade of the twentieth century. It wins the coveted "book I'm most determined to lend to my mom" award.
Yes, I'm Hot in This by Huda Fahmy (2018): a cute collection of comics from Fahmy's Instagram, covering subjects from strangers being stupid about her hijab (hence the title) to lighthearted scenes of domestic life. I found it in a Little Library.
Unmask Alice by Rick Emerson (2022): an exploration of the life and writing career of Beatrice Sparks, author of multiple "real" diaries by troubled teens, through-and-through grifter, and coiner of the immortal phrase "freak wharf." This fucked, y'all. Emerson seamlessly delves into multiple topics of interest--Sparks's hardscrabble youth, the discovery of LSD, the Satanic Panic--with plenty of compassion and humor.
The Good Nurse by Charles Graeber (2013): the true-crime account of Charles Cullen, a Pennsylvania/New Jersey nurse who murdered possibly hundreds of patients by poisoning their IV bags in the late 1980s to early 2000s. The subject matter is shocking, and it's horrifying how the indifference of the large medical systems he worked for kept him from facing consequences other than getting fired for years. The style/organization of the book is kind of pedestrian, though.
Catch and Kill by Ronan Farrow (2019): an account of Farrow's efforts to write a story for NBC about the decades-long sexual predation of producer Harvey Weinstein, including NBC's sideways attempts to get him to back off. Farrow's a solid narrative writer, not great, and the book gets less interesting when he strays beyond the inner workings of NBC.
Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion (1968): In her first collection of essays, Didion talks about murder, movies, mental distress, and Sacramento. It's incredibly fresh in some ways (the essay where she talks about raising her daughter away from her extended family) and incredibly dated in others (her incredulity at people who ascribe artistic vision to Meet Me in St. Louis). I genuinely appreciate her ability to make me go "girl, what are you even talking about."
Solutions and Other Problems by Allie Brosh (2020): an illustrated memoir/series of comics, focusing on coping with mental illness and the unexpected loss of a loved one. There are some very funny passages (particularly one involving a troublesome dog), some devastating ones (Brosh's montage of memories of her late younger sister), and some aimless ones.
Monkey Mind by Daniel Smith (2012): part memoir and part general information about anxiety (the science of it, how different people have written about it through history, etc.). It's more interesting as a memoir. I remember that it had some good advice at the end for managing anxiety, but I don't know for the life of me what it was. Still, I feel like I should give him credit for it.
