Category: Books

Out of Office, The Big Problem and Bigger Promise of Working from Home, by Charlie Warzel and Anne Helen Petersen (Knopf, 272 pages)

We are just now beginning to see how Americans’ work lives may have forever been changed by the pandemic, and in Out of Office, Charlie Warzel and Anne Helen Petersen craft a vision for how things could be better for the so-called “knowledge workers” who are able to do some or all of their jobs remotely. With some companies already announcing that they will be fully or partially remote even after the pandemic ends, this isn’t necessarily cause for celebration for people sick of working in their basements. But the authors begin by arguing that what we’ve been doing for the past two years isn’t truly remote work, but remote work during a stressful pandemic while homeschooling and wondering where the next roll of toilet paper is coming from. In other words, forget the past two years. Instead, dream with them about working fewer hours with no commute, fewer unnecessary meetings, more time to focus on the most important and fulfilling aspect of your job. It’s not The 4-Hour Workweek promoted by Tim Ferriss, but a more realistic fantasy.

And it’s necessary, the authors say, because the workforce is “collapsing” under the pressure of what they called fetishized standards of productivity and the hours we work: more than workers in other Western nations.

Among their points:

• To improve work life, we need not boundaries but guardrails. Boundaries are permeable. Guardrails protect. “Not because we’re fragile or undisciplined, but because the forces that undergird work today — especially the obsession with growth and productivity — are indiscriminate in their destruction,” the authors write. Other countries have guardrails that have been legislated, such as France, which passed a law in 2016 aimed at discouraging people who work at large companies from sending or replying to emails after working hours.

• Four-day work weeks can be achieved when companies eschew “faux productivity” and focus on getting important stuff done in less time. Companies can create policies that don’t accidentally discriminate — for example, childless people should be entitled to leave or sabbaticals without going to the trouble of having a baby. Like remote work, flexibility in employment is not necessarily a perk, the authors argue, but an opportunity to work 24-7. True flexibility would be like the software developer who gets much of his thinking done on a hiking trail, or the graphic designer who works for a few hours in the middle of the day, then three hours in the evening, building her day around the needs of her young children.

Companies like theirs operate with a culture of trust, “granting real freedom to make small and occasionally large decisions about when work should be done. … They’re focused not on immediate growth but on long-term vision: retaining valuable employees in a competitive industry.”

• Be suspicious of companies that present themselves as a family, rhetoric that emerged in the past half-century. “Treating your organization as a family, no matter how altruistic its goals, is a means of breaking down boundaries between work and life.” What many of us need is not a work “family” to compete with our own, but more emotional distance from all-consuming work.

In recent years, tech companies have normalized lavish perks that have contributed to this sense of work being a second home, from pool tables and pinball in break rooms, to free gourmet coffee and snacks, to bring-your-dog-to-work days. In order for a new hybrid model of work to succeed, offices need to be less appealing to workers, not more. Otherwise, remote workers already anxious about their relative invisibility, compared to people who keep showing up, suffer FOMO, fear of missing out, leading to even more stress. Companies need to create a culture in which there is truly a level playing field whether you’re remote or in an office building, Petersen and Warzel say.

• Remote workers contribute to their own stress by doing something that the authors call LARPing; the acronym stands for live-action role playing, and we do it at work when we become obsessed with constantly looking like we’re working, even when we ostensibly shouldn’t be. (An after-hours response to an email or Slack message is an example.) “A flare sent into the air to show you’re working incites others to send up their flares, too,” the others write.

In the end, Petersen and Warzel describe today’s knowledge workers as enduring a sort of carnival horror house of employment. In doing so, they make remote work sound worse than it is; there’s a reason so many workers are refusing to go back to the office, and it’s not all Covid-19-related. On the other hand, there’s also a reason for what’s been called the Great Resignation, and it’s not that we’re all clamoring to drive for Amazon.

Post-pandemic, we’re not going back to the lives we led in 2019, and Out of Office is part of the thoughtful conversation that needs to take place before we mindlessly take on other ghastly routines. Not every idea presented here is sterling; I’m deeply suspicious of the authors’ argument that cutting back on office time frees us to volunteer in our communities. That may solve some societal problems, but still leaves us with exhausted citizens. Also, the ideas presented in Out of Office may inspire hope among knowledge workers, but most have little power to change their own circumstances; it’s their bosses who need to read this book and sign on to the ideas. Workers can, however, help to foster change by thinking about why they revere hyperproductivity, a mindset the authors argue is a relic of the agrarian past. “Who would you be if work ceased to be the axis of your life?” they ask. While much of this book could be condensed into an article in The Atlantic, it’s good that the authors are posing the question they raise here. B-

Book Notes

Reader’s Digest Condensed Books are a thing of the past (we have SparkNotes with which to cheat-read now), but there are still “Book of the Month” clubs out there that offer to send you a book every month in the genre of your choice. Given that Americans read 12.6 books, on average, in 2021, according to Gallup,they’ve at least got the pacing down right.

But there’s another way to see books of the month — quite literally.

Last year, for example, The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow came out in paperback (Redhook, 416 pages). It’s a well-reviewed novel about a 17-year-old girl from Vermont named January who finds a peculiar book that leads her on a fantastical adventure. Reviewers called it magical and inventive.

Let’s move onto February: February House (Mariner Books, 336 pages) is “the story of W.H. Auden, Carson McCullers, Jane and Paul Bowles, Benjamin Britten, and Gypsy Rose Lee, under one roof in Brooklyn.” And you thought your bathroom was crowded. Sounds a bit like the Algonquin Roundtable, 24-7.

March: No way to begin spring without Little Women, so let’s do March: A Novel (Viking, 288 pages) by Geraldine Brooks, who envisions the Civil War experiences of the absent father of Meg, Beth, Jo and Amy.

April: One Friday in April: A Story of Suicide and Survival (W.W. Norton, 144 pages) is a gripping memoir by Donald Antrim, released last fall about his near suicide and struggles with depression.

May: Eight Days in May (Liveright, 336 pages) is another fall 2021 book that examines the collapse of the Third Reich. The author, Volker Ullrich, is a German historian, and the book was translated into English by Jefferson Chase.

June: Seven Days in June (yes, there’s a pattern here) is a celebrated novel by former beauty editor Tia Williams released last June (Grand Central Publishing, 336 pages). It’s about a pair of writers who had a fleeting romance as teenagers, then parted ways yet continued to write about each other in their books — while pretending not to know each other as adults.

Promising stuff here, if you missed these books when they first came out. Next week: July through December.

Book Events

Author events

• TOM RAFFIO Author presents Prepare for Crisis, Plan to Thrive. The Bookery, 844 Elm St., Manchester. Thurs., Jan. 27, 5:30 p.m. Visit bookerymht.com.

• CHAD ORZEL Author presents A Brief History of Timekeeping. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 27, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• ISABEL ALLENDE Author presents Violeta. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Sat., Jan. 29, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration and tickets required, to include the purchase of the book. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• JOHN NICHOLS Author presents Coronavirus Criminals and Pandemic Profiters. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Tues., Feb. 1, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

Book Sales

• USED BOOK SALE Used books for $1, $3 and $5. GoodLife Programs & Activities, 254 N. State St., Unit L, Concord. Jan. 10 through Jan. 21 (closed Jan. 17). Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Visit goodlifenh.org.

Poetry

• CAROL WESTBURG AND SUE BURTON Virtual poetry reading hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 20, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• ROB AZEVEDO Poet reads from his new book of poetry, Don’t Order the Calamari. The Bookery, 844 Elm St., Manchester. Thurs., Feb. 3, 6 p.m. Visit bookerymht.com.

Sweat, A History of Exercise, by Bill Hayes (Bloomsbury, 221 pages)

Every time a new study comes out about the benefit of exercise, there’s a sort of breathlessness about it, as if the authors have come across some undiscovered bit of wisdom that will change hearts and minds — and bodies.

Exercise does that, of course, but this is not a new development. Joe De Sena built a fitness empire on the concept of “Spartan Fit” and Sparta was last a player in ancient Greece. Most of us know at least a vague history of the Olympic games, and that physical fitness was a key component in the education of young men in ancient societies. “To achieve excellence, we first must sweat,” the Greek poet Hesiod wrote in 700 B.C.

It’s surprising, then, that when New York writer Bill Hayes set out to learn more about how exercise became a human compulsion, he found few contemporary histories on the subject, but found a comprehensive one written in 1573. Called De arte gymnastica (in English, the Art of Gymnastics), the work was compiled by an Italian physician, Girolamo Mercuriale, and written in medieval Latin. It was, Hayes would later be told, the sort of book that medieval intellectuals kept on their bookshelves but never read, “like the Bible or Infinite Jest.”

Mercuriale himself had set out to do precisely what Hayes does here: to comb through centuries of accounts of how people exercised and why they exercised, going back to the fifth century BC. There was, of course, exercise as a form of preparation for war. The Spartans, in particular, organized their society around principles of building not just men but warriors. But in other Greek societies, there was a culture of exercise more similar to the luxurious athletic clubs of today: While men went to athletic facilities known as “palestras” to strenuously train and challenge their bodies, there were also physical pleasures to be found there, such as saunas, bathing rooms and “oiling” rooms, where athletes would be rubbed with scented olive oil.

The goal, however, according to Mercuriale, should not be to become more physically attractive but to live a long and healthy life — in contemporary lingo, to have not just a long lifespan but a long healthspan. “Those who exercise moderately and appropriately can lead a healthy life that does not depend on any drugs, but those who do so without proper care are racked by perpetual ill health, and require constant medication.”

What’s amazing about Mercuriale’s conclusions, and similar ones by Plato, Hippocrates and the second-century physician Galen, is that they came in a time in which people got a lot of things wrong about health. They believed, for example, that illness was caused by imbalance in the four humors (blood, phlegm, yellow bile and bile), and that people could be healed with practices such as letting leeches suck their blood. But on exercise generally, these guys got it right, even if they did some weird things along the way, like collecting the sweat of athletes to use as a healing balm for hemorrhoids and genital warts.

Hayes is the the author of six other books, including Sleep Demons, a memoir about insomnia, and Five Quarts: A Personal and Natural History of Blood. He is also known as the partner of the legendary late physician Oliver Sacks, and has written about other aspects of medical history before, including a nonfiction book that examines how the medical classic Gray’s Anatomy came to be. So it’s a little disappointing that Sweat sometimes devolves into more of a personal blog rather than an erudite history. This happens when Hayes drops in his own workouts, from mastering the crow pose in yoga to taking a boxing class. He may be an accomplished author, but he never convinces me to care deeply about his sports injuries, even when he slammed into a rock once while he was swimming. Not that I’m not sympathetic to head injuries, but it wasn’t what I came for.

That said, it was interesting to learn about the exercise habits of diverse, interesting people, from the late Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who famously did 20 military-style push-ups each day, even in her 80s, to an Italian publisher and translator of Mercuriale who rings 600-pound church bells for exercise. Fun fact on the topic of unusual forms of exercise: Mercuriale counted laughing, crying and holding one’s breath as exercise, another reason to like him. And again Mercuriale was prescient: a belly laugh has been likened to “jogging for the innards.”

Hayes received funding from two foundations that enabled him to travel around the world to research this book, in part by inspecting old and rare books, aided by friendly librarians. (This in itself offered a glimpse into a strange world, as when he wrote that the librarian “placed a clean white pillow on the table top — a soft bed for these often fragile volumes — and provided a fresh package of handwipes” in order that he could clean his hands thoroughly in between books.) He also took an eight-week class that certifies people to become personal trainers, not to become one (although he did become certified), but just to learn about the process and more about the human body.

As with any book that runs the gamut from Pliny the Elder to Jane Fonda, Sweat attempts to cover a marathon in the space of a 5K. It’s a perfectly serviceable book, but not one that’s particularly memorable, since for so much of it the reader is subjected to watching the author travel and exercise. At least he had fun, so there’s that. As for advice, it’s hard to top this from Galen’s The Art of Medicine, dating from 180 A.D.: “Exercise should cease as soon as the body begins to suffer.” If, for you, that’s the moment you step out the door, best move on to another title. B-

Book Notes

If you haven’t heard, birds aren’t real. They’re drones sent by the federal government to spy on us, according to a tongue-in-cheek movement. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t feed them and enjoy looking at them when we’re trapped inside by miserable weather.

There is no “birds aren’t real” book — not yet, anyway — but there’s been an equally cheeky book leading the “bird field guides” genre on Amazon recently. The Field Guide to Dumb Birds of the Whole Stupid World (Chronicle, 176 pages) is Matt Kracht’s followup to his The Field Guide to Dumb Birds of North America, published in 2019 (Chronicle, 176 pages). Kracht, who lives in the Pacific Northwest, is gaming the system by showing up here. While the books are in the field-guide format, and technically about birds, they’re pure humor, and crude humor at that.

What’s really fascinating, though, is that Kracht’s take is not especially original. The same year Kracht’s first book came out, Aaron Reynolds gave the world the Effin’ Birds: A Field Guide to Identification (Ten Speed Press, 208 pages), which has even more profanity and absurdity than Kracht’s books offer. (Who knew there was such animosity toward birds?)

Effin’ Birds is cultural commentary wrapped in bird bodies, with Reynolds inventing creatures such as the “spotted do-nothing” and the “peevish ringneck.” It too is kind of juvenile in its humor, but also kind of funny, as we all have a spotted do-nothing in our life.

If you prefer to take your birding more seriously, Princeton University Press recently published How Birds Evolve, What Science Reveals About Their Origin, Lives and Diversity by New York evolutionary biologist Douglas Futuyma (320 pages).

And last year, Deckle Edge published a new version of The Bedside Book of Birds, an Avian Miscellany, by the late Canadian novelist Graeme Gibson, with a foreword by Margaret Atwood (392 pages).

But you’ll have to wait a few months for the book you really need: an actual field guide, snark-free: Birds of New Hampshire. It’s by Marc Parnell and is part of the Birding Pro series. (Naturalist and Traveler Press, 272 pages, coming March 22).

Book Events

Author events

• TIMOTHY BOUDREAU Author presents on the craft of writing short stories. Sat., Jan. 15, 9:45 to 11:45 a.m. Peterborough Town Library, 2 Concord St., Peterborough. Visit monadnockwriters.org.

• TOM RAFFIO Author presents Prepare for Crisis, Plan to Thrive. The Bookery, 844 Elm St., Manchester. Thurs., Jan. 27, 5:30 p.m. Visit bookerymht.com.

• CHAD ORZEL Author presents A Brief History of Timekeeping. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 27, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• ISABEL ALLENDE Author presents Violeta. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Sat., Jan. 29, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration and tickets required, to include the purchase of the book. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• JOHN NICHOLS Author presents Coronavirus Criminals and Pandemic Profiters. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Tues., Feb. 1, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• GARY SAMPSON AND INEZ MCDERMOTT Photographer Sampson and art historian McDermott discuss New Hampshire Now: A Photographic Diary of Life in the Granite State. Sat., Feb. 19, 9:45 to 11:45 a.m. Peterborough Town Library, 2 Concord St., Peterborough. Visit monadnockwriters.org.

Book Sales

• USED BOOK SALE Used books for $1, $3 and $5. GoodLife Programs & Activities, 254 N. State St., Unit L, Concord. Jan. 10 through Jan. 21 (closed Jan. 17). Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Visit goodlifenh.org.

Poetry

• CAROL WESTBURG AND SUE BURTON Virtual poetry reading hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 20, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

How To Live Like a Monk, Medieval Wisdom for Modern Life, by Daniele Cybulskie (Abbeville Press, 175 pages)

When modernity fails, antiquity beckons. That is the conclusion to be drawn from renewed interest in lifestyles vastly different from the high-consumption, low-contemplation and tech-driven models so prevalent today.

This is seen in the popularity of Twitter’s “Lindy Man,” a lawyer turned lifestyle guru who exhorts people to consult ancestral wisdom in order to lead a more fulfilling life, and the trend toward tiny houses, minimalism and other scaled-back systems of living that previous generations of poor people sought to escape. Into this space comes Daniele Cybulskie, a medieval historian and self-described professional nerd who has built up a niche following with a podcast on medieval life. Her fourth book, How to Live Like Monk, seemed a promising escape from the excesses of the holiday season, and it has glimpses of potential, but ultimately devolves into boilerplate cheerleading for gratitude and simplicity, a la Sarah Ban Breathnach of the Simple Abundance brand. That said, it’s a book well worth skimming, especially if you’re a trivia buff.

“Abundance” is not a word typically associated with monks, whose lifestyle, as we all know, is distinguished by austerity. But here’s the thing. What do you really know about monks, or nuns or other people of disparate religious beliefs who lead cloistered lives? You have Trappist beer or jelly in the house but know nothing about why monks make beer anyway. Cybulskie does not examine the lives of modern monks (which seems an oxymoron), but looks at their predecessors, and when she is focusing on history, and not giving advice, this handbook is fascinating.

Who knew, for example, that early monks were allotted a gallon of beer a day, or that despite their rigid schedule of prayer and chores, their lives were pretty much an intellectual’s dream, filled as they were with mealtime lectures and quiet reading hours? Monastery life was often foisted on young children, whose parents would turn them over to an order if they could not afford to raise or educate them (or if they wanted bonus points in the afterlife). And sometimes criminals took refuge in a monastery to avoid punishment (think Jean Valean). But many people chose the lifestyle freely, as there is something to be said for living in a peaceful commune where you don’t have to worry about how to pay the rent or what to wear. (Monks were typically given two outfits — one to wear while the other was being washed — and one pair of shoes, which were replaced every year.)

For all their simplicity, the grounds of a monastery were typically glorious, not only because they were to be a reflection of God’s glory, but because a key ministry of monks was providing comfortable lodging for travelers, a tradition that continues today, or at least that did before Covid. As for food, monks are not known for feasting, but they were Whole Foods before Whole Foods existed, with their own orchards, herb and vegetable gardens, and fish ponds. They generally shunned the flesh of four-legged animals, but ate poultry and fish, and there is record of one medieval monastery accepting eels as payment for rent. Monks were also way ahead of us on the whole green burial thing, accepting “dust to dust” as a lifestyle and even burying their dead in their orchards. Like the early Christians, monks of the Middle Ages were somewhat obsessed with death, ordering their lives around their hopes for the afterlife and sincerely believing that they lived in end times. Of course, like everyone else who lived before antibiotics, death was always a breath or two away, which gave rise to skull art and jewelry known as “memento mori” — Latin for “remember you must die.”

Cybulski concedes this to be a sort of “grotesque emphasis” on death and struggles to recommend it to her readers, but finds other monkish practices to suggest. Some are banal: Embrace minimalism! Don’t overspend! Supercharge habits! But there are nuggets of seriousness here, thought truffles worth digging for, and one of the monks’ most famous traditions, an emphasis on silence, is something sorely needed in the noisy lives that many of us live. Saint Benedict, originator of arguably the most famous guide for living like a monk, the Rule of St. Benedict, decreed that monks should not speak out loud except by permission or in services. He believed that “mindless chatter was at best distracting and at worst destructive.” By cutting out the small talk, he effectively kept monks from grumbling, and instead filled their minds with edifying words read during their communal meals.

On the website for Saint Anselm College in Manchester, home to a community of Benedictine monks, you can read Brother Isaac’s blog, which shows that despite a societal yearning for the past, the past’s institutions are keeping up with modern times. The concept of a blog might have been distressing for St. Benedict, but at least you can write one in silence. This saintly little handbook fails to ascend to intellectual heights, and its compact size reduces the usefulness and beauty of its otherwise compelling photographs and art, but it will nonetheless stimulate interest about cloistered life, past and present. C

Book Notes, New Year Edition

According to social scientists, you will likely abandon your new year resolutions between Jan. 19 and Feb. 1, but until then, keep the faith. In order to help with your plans to be thinner, smarter, kinder, richer, more organized and better dressed, here’s a lineup of books, both from past years and upcoming, that promise to help with your goals, fleeting as they may be.

Atomic Habits (Avery, 320 pages) by James Clear was published in 2018 but is still atop Amazon’s bestseller list. The author promises “tiny changes, remarkable results” that can apply to anything you’re resolved to do this year.

Brene Brown was a research professor before she broke into the Oprah-esque popular culture space. Her new book, Atlas of the Heart, is about “mapping meaningful connection and the language of human experience,” whatever that means (Random House, 336 pages). Its genre is emotional self-help. That said, Amazon has said it’s one of the best books of the year, so worth checking out.

The Blue Zones Challenge is the latest from Dan Buettner, who studies people who live in the blue zones, the areas of the world where people live the longest. This workbook encompasses four weeks of changes with the goal of having a “longer, better life,” which fits nicely with the four weeks with which most of us stick with our resolutions. It’s from National Geographic, 240 pages.

Organizing for the Rest of Us (Thomas Nelson, 224 pages) comes out Jan. 22. Dana K. White offers 100 “realistic” strategies to keep our homes under control. She says that cleaning is the last step of a three-step process; the first is decluttering and the second is managing day-to-day stuff. Doesn’t look like there’s much new here, but could be an inspirational pep talk.

Baby Steps Millionaires (Ramsey Press, 224 pages) is by financial guru Dave Ramsey, who has taken some PR hits this year in accusations of a cult-like atmosphere at his Tennessee headquarters. Millions of people follow his plans, however, and his new book, releasing Jan. 11, promises to teach ordinary people how to build extraordinary wealth. Don’t read unless you’re willing to cut up your credit cards.

Finally, in what’s possibly the most unappealing title of a diet book ever, there is Dr. Kellyann’s Bone Broth Diet (Rodale, 416 pages), which is only slightly more appetizing than my proposed counter-title, Lose Weight and Gain Energy Eating the Slimy Contrails of Backyard Slugs. But OK. Kellyann Petrucci is a “concierge physician” for celebrities, and she says we can lose 15 pounds, 4 inches and an unspecified number of wrinkles by following her plan. At $17.99, it’s cheaper than Botox. Let me know if it works.

Book Events

Author events

• JAMES ROLLINS Author presents The Starless Crown, in conversation with Terry Brooks. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Mon., Jan. 10, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• TIMOTHY BOUDREAU Author presents on the craft of writing short stories. Sat., Jan. 15, 9:45 to 11:45 a.m. Peterborough Town Library, 2 Concord St., Peterborough. Visit monadnockwriters.org.

• TOM RAFFIO Author presents Prepare for Crisis, Plan to Thrive. The Bookery, 844 Elm St., Manchester. Thurs., Jan. 27, 5:30 p.m. Visit bookerymht.com.

• CHAD ORZEL Author presents A Brief History of Timekeeping. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 27, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• ISABEL ALLENDE Author presents Violeta. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Sat., Jan. 29, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration and tickets required, to include the purchase of the book. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

Book Sales

• USED BOOK SALE Used books for $1, $3 and $5. GoodLife Programs & Activities, 254 N. State St., Unit L, Concord. Jan. 10 through Jan. 21 (closed Jan. 17). Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Visit goodlifenh.org.

Poetry

• CAROL WESTBURG AND SUE BURTON Virtual poetry reading hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 20, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

These Precious Days, by Ann Patchett (Harper, 320 pages)

The Ann Patchett craze somehow eluded me, although I know people who wait breathlessly for her next book. She is not as famous as Stephen King nor as prolific as Jodi Picoult, having “just” eight novels and two children’s books to her name, but she enjoys those writers’ commercial success, and has developed an auxiliary fame as co-owner of a Nashville bookstore and as an advocate for independent booksellers.

As such, there’s been breathless anticipation all year for Patchett’s fourth book of nonfiction, These Precious Days, which is a pandemic book — not a book about a pandemic, but a book set in the pandemic. In fact, some of what occurs in the essays here pre-dates Covid-19 and has been published before, in The New Yorker and elsewhere. That, it turns out, matters not one whit.

The essays are finely strung, like a strand of Mikimoto pearls, and are so well-crafted as to have sprung fully formed from Zeus’s head. Patchett identifies as a novelist but says she’s always writing essays to fill in the gaps, to remind her that she’s still a writer when she’s not consumed by a work of fiction. Amusingly, she says that when working on a novel, she’s stalked by the idea of death, thinking that she could die at any time and the undertaker would bury all her beloved characters with her. The pandemic made that worse. “What was the point of starting [a novel] if I wasn’t going to be around to finish? This didn’t necessarily mean I believed I was going to die of the coronavirus, any more than I believed I was going to drown in the Atlantic or be eaten by a bear, but all those scenarios were possible. The year 2020 didn’t seem like a great time to start a family, or a business, or a novel.” And so she spent the time working on essays, which Patchett says death didn’t seem all that interested in.

The collection starts with a remembrance published in The New Yorker on Patchett’s “three fathers,” her biological dad and two stepfathers. (“Marriage has always proved irresistible to my family. We try and fail and try again, somehow maintaining our belief in an institution that has made fools of us all.”) The next essay, “The First Thanksgiving,” is a pithier reflection on Patchett’s experience as a freshman at Sarah Lawrence College in New York, when she couldn’t go home for the holiday and instead decided to cook a traditional dinner in her dorm for other stranded friends. Having never cooked a turkey or any other Thanksgiving dish before. “I made yeast rolls, for heaven’s sake! I cooked down fresh cranberries into sauce!”

Only having enough quarters to call her mother from the pay phone when she was finished (we’re talking about a woman who is now 60), she used recipes from The Joy of Cooking and writes that “even now, when someone claims they don’t know how to cook, I find myself snapping, ‘Do you know how to read?’”

Not to take away from Patchett’s talents, but part of the appeal of her essays is simply that she lives such an interesting life. Take, for example, the beginning of her essay, “Flight Plan,” in which she writes: “Three of us were in a 1947 de Havilland Beaver, floating in the middle of a crater lake in the southwest quadrant of Alaska.”

What?

It is a declarative statement, simply crafted, but dares the reader not to read on to learn more. It turns out that the essay is not about this particular excursion that Patchett took with her physician husband, Karl, but about his lifelong obsession with aviation (and by extension, every other amateur pilot), and her coming to grips with it, with reactions that range from bewilderment to fear.

We learn much from this essay about aviation culture, such as that a certain model of small plane is known as a doctor killer. (“Doctors have enough money to buy them,” Karl said, “but they aren’t good enough pilots to fly them.”) But we also go deep inside Patchett’s marriage, her terror about the possibility of Karl dying in a plane crash, her struggle to understand why dangerous pastimes were so important to him. “I understood he wasn’t interested in baking bread, that there would be no Scrabble or yoga in our future as a couple, but couldn’t there be a hobby in which death was not a likely outcome?”

But death is, of course, a likely outcome for us all, and despite Patchett’s insistence that death had no interest in essays, it enshrouds the titular essay, which is about her relationship with a woman named Sooki, who was the actor Tom Hanks’ personal assistant for nearly 20 years.

Patchett had come to know Hanks after writing a jacket blurb for his book of short stories, Uncommon Type, and came to know Sooki when Hanks later agreed to narrate the audio book of her novel The Dutch House. Through increasingly intimate emails, the women evolved from “affectionate strangers” to housemates while Sooki was in an experimental treatment for pancreatic cancer.

No spoilers here, but it is a deeply moving story about friendship, and utterly riveting. As is the collection in its entirety. A

Book Notes

As the end of 2021 mercifully approaches, here’s a look back at the books that made our A list. Some won critical acclaim nationwide; others, not much more than here, but they’re worth your attention if you haven’t read them already.

Bewilderment, by Richard Powers (W.W. Norton, 278 pages), novel: A widowed dad struggles with raising his neurologically untypical son while pondering possible other worlds beyond our universe.

The Anthropocene Reviewed, John Green(Dutton, 274 pages), nonfiction, essays: The author of The Fault in Our Stars gives 1- to 5-star reviews of everything from Canada geese to Diet Dr Pepper to the “wintry mix.”

Love Like That, by Emma Duffy-Comparone(Henry Holt and Co., 211 pages), short stories: Nine stories about love, both brittle and vibrant, all set in New England, two on the Granite State coast.

The Audacity of Sara Grayson, by Joani Elliott (Post Hill Press, 400 pages), novel: Part of the genre often dismissed as “chick lit,” this is a fun, original and New Englandish story of a daughter tasked with writing the ending to a best-selling series after the author, her mother, dies.

The Five Wounds, by Kirstin Valdez Quade (W.W. Norton, 416 pages), novel: A troubled Catholic family in New Mexico grapples with an unwed pregnancy, poverty and illness in this moving portrait of real life, the kind that doesn’t show up on Twitter.

The Blizzard Party, by Jack Livings (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 400 pages), novel: Engrossing fiction set during the very real blizzard of 1978.

Klara and the Sun, by Kazuo Ishiguro (Knopf, 303 pages), novel: This Booker Prize-winning story of a young girl and her “artificial friend” asks us to think seriously about the costs of companion robots, both to us and to them.

Chasing Eden, A Book of Seekersby Howard Mansfield (Bauhan Publishing, 216 pages), nonfiction: An intelligent and contemplative book by a New Hampshire author about an unusual cast of Americans who bid the founders’ call to pursue happiness in their own unique ways.

Book Events

Author events

• JAMES ROLLINS Author presents The Starless Crown, in conversation with Terry Brooks. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Mon., Jan. 10, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• CHAD ORZEL Author presents A Brief History of Timekeeping. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 27, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• ISABEL ALLENDE Author presents Violeta. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Sat., Jan. 29, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration and tickets required, to include the purchase of the book. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• JOHN NICHOLS Author presents Coronavirus Criminals and Pandemic Profiters. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Tues., Feb. 1, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• GARY SAMPSON AND INEZ MCDERMOTT Photographer Sampson and art historian McDermott discuss New Hampshire Now: A Photographic Diary of Life in the Granite State. Sat., Feb. 19, 9:45 to 11:45 a.m. Peterborough Town Library, 2 Concord St., Peterborough. Visit monadnockwriters.org.

• TIMOTHY BOUDREAU Author presents on the craft of writing short stories. Sat., Jan. 15, 9:45 to 11:45 a.m. Peterborough Town Library, 2 Concord St., Peterborough. Visit monadnockwriters.org.

Poetry

• CAROL WESTBURG AND SUE BURTON Virtual poetry reading hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 20, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• DOWN CELLAR POETRY SALON Poetry event series presented by the Poetry Society of New Hampshire. Monthly. First Sunday. Visit poetrysocietynh.wordpress.com.

Book Clubs

• BOOKERY Online. Monthly. Third Thursday, 6 p.m. Bookstore based in Manchester. Visit bookerymht.com/online-book-club or call 836-6600.

• GIBSON’S BOOKSTORE Online, via Zoom. Monthly. First Monday, 5:30 p.m. Bookstore based in Concord. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com/gibsons-book-club-2020-2021 or call 224-0562.

• TO SHARE BREWING CO. 720 Union St., Manchester. Monthly. Second Thursday, 6 p.m. RSVP required. Visit tosharebrewing.com or call 836-6947.

• GOFFSTOWN PUBLIC LIBRARY 2 High St., Goffstown. Monthly. Third Wednesday, 1:30 p.m. Call 497-2102, email elizabethw@goffstownlibrary.com or visit goffstownlibrary.com

• BELKNAP MILL Online. Monthly. Last Wednesday, 6 p.m. Based in Laconia. Email bookclub@belknapmill.org.

• NASHUA PUBLIC LIBRARY Online. Monthly. Second Friday, 3 p.m. Call 589-4611, email information@nashualibrary.org or visit nashualibrary.org.

Language

• FRENCH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE CLASSES

Offered remotely by the Franco-American Centre. Six-week session with classes held Thursdays from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. $225. Visit facnh.com/education or call 623-1093.

You Can’t Be Serious, by Kal Penn (Gallery, 367 pages)

You may know Kal Penn as a resident on the TV series House M.D. Or the stoner from the Harold & Kumar movie franchise. Or the Hollywood actor who took a break from all that to work in the Obama White House.

Or, like me, you know nothing about Kal Penn at all. In that case, you may have zero interest in the actor’s memoir You Can’t Be Serious, and I’m here to change your mind about that. As Hollywood memoirs go, this one is surprisingly engrossing, in part because of Penn’s intelligence and his willingness to be vulnerable and open up about discrimination he encountered as the son of Indian immigrants.

Penn, whose real name is Kaplen Modi, does his best writing in the first chapter, in which he describes assorted indignities of growing up in New Jersey, where he wore clothes from Sears (that descriptive says so much) and was called a racial slur by a “devil child [who] resembled a splintered toothpick — skinny with tiny arms.”

Early on, Penn realized that his brain worked better than those of some of his classmates, and that it preferred imagination to analytics. By middle school he had aligned with other misfits in the drama club, and he had a breakout performance as the Tin Man in the school’s performance of “The Wiz.”

By high school, however, his parents, who saw theater as impractical, intervened, insisting that he decline when offered a role in the ensemble of Godspell. It says a lot about his character, all good, that he writes, “I was more heartbroken than angry.” Penn had great respect for his family, even though, early on, they were not thrilled about his career path. (In one of his recurring jokes, his family members say, “We don’t do that. We’re Indian.”) He lovingly recounts the history of his father, who arrived in the U.S. with $8 and little else but ambition, and his grandfathers, who told him moving stories about marching with Gandhi.

In writing about his early life, Penn reveals the challenges and even violence confronting immigrants from India. Unfortunately, even when he moved to California to study acting at UCLA, and then began to audition for work, the discriminatory insults continued. He was only considered for parts that were cartoonish portrayals of Asian American, always with a thick, cheesy accent. And while Penn could do a wide range of accents, he had none naturally, leading to many instances when people expressed surprise that he was so “articulate.”

At one point he considered quitting acting altogether, but he came to accept, “I’m brown, period, and this is a white boys’ game. If the best characters that writers, producers, directors and casting teams can come up with are tired, unfunny stereotypes that we’ve seen a million times, it’s a reliable sign that the individuals I’m dealing with are seriously short on talent themselves. This reflects badly on them, not me.’

When he got work, he began to push back, suggesting script changes to writers and trying to dodge directors’ requests to make an accent more pronounced. All the while, he was being told how good an actor he was, and Penn explains how some of his early, unsatisfying work led to bigger opportunities later. In addition to House and Harold & Kumar, some of his other notable credits are the film The Namesake and the recent CBS series Clarice.

In the middle of all this, however, Penn diverts into a sort of shadow career as a White House aide to Barack Obama. This wasn’t a shocking development; in high school, he’d taken a test that was supposed to help him narrow down a career, and the results said, “Inconclusive. This student’s interests are too varied for us to provide tangible recommendations.” His guidance counselor said she’d never had a student get that result.

But Penn had seen Obama speak when he was still a senator and had been impressed enough to volunteer. And he was such an effective volunteer that Obama himself asked him to take a paid job with the campaign, and then to work in the White House. (All of which explains why Penn’s character on House was written out of the show.)

At this point, the memoir stumbles slightly, revealing its central weakness: This is a book that doesn’t know exactly what it’s about. Memoirs, of course, are recollections, but often they have a theme, a sort of overarching wisdom under which the anecdotes collect. Penn’s memories don’t stand still long enough for that; they dart about like squirrels. They are funny squirrels, so there’s that. As skillful as Penn is as an actor, he’s also a first-rate comedian, and the one-liners come fast and furious. That said, after a spate of extraordinarily thoughtful writing in the first few chapters, the book does tend to devolve into a more typical recounting of stories. By the time he wraps things up by introducing his now-fiance, a Southern man with a penchant for NASCAR, the book is feeling a bit long, like you know 100 pages more than you needed to know about this particular actor.

Whatever its blemishes, being overly partisan is not one of them. Yes, more than a third of the book contains anecdotes about his work with President Obama, and obviously he’s a fan and a Democrat (he even spoke at the party’s 2012 convention), but there’s little here that would be offensive to Republicans. At heart, You Can’t Be Serious is a quintessential story along the lines of local-boy-makes-good, with the local boy being of Indian descent, smart and funny. There may be better memoirs about Hollywood or politics, or even growing up Indian in New Jersey, but it’s safe to say this is the best one about all three. B

Book Notes

Every year I look forward to a new Christmas book, one that can join my collection of perennial holiday reads. Most years I am disappointed.

The last book to qualify for a lasting place on the holiday bookshelf was the late Stuart McLean’s Christmas at the Vinyl Cafe (Viking, 272 pages), which came out in 2017. In fact, there just don’t seem to be that many Christmas-themed books other than cookbooks. This year I could only find a collection of remembrances by Fox News personalities — All American Christmas (Broadside, 272 pages) — and a historical novel that I missed in 2017, Samantha Silva’s Mr. Dickens and His Carol (Flatiron, 288 pages).

But then I realized I’d been looking in the wrong genre.

There are plenty of Christmas books available to readers if they’re interested in romance novels, with the occasional dog book thrown into the mix. They’re not my cup of holiday tea, but apparently are quite popular, given their prevalence (and also the popularity of Hallmark Christmas movies).

A sampling: Sleigh Bells Ring (HQN, 336 pages) by RaeAnne Thayne, billed as a “sparkling and heartwarming holiday romance,” released in both hardback and paperback on Halloween, and Christmas in the Scottish Highlands (Bookouture, 294 pages) by Donna Ashcroft, which looks to be a fairly predictable romance novel embellished with holly, mulled wine and mince pies.

Other new holiday romances this year include The Holiday Swap (Viking, 352 pages) by Maggie Knox, in which two young women who are identical twins trade places at Christmas, and Dear Santa (Ballantine, 272 pages) by Debbie Macomber, in which a recently jilted young woman returns home for Christmas and writes a letter to Santa that changes her life. (In a bit of brilliant marketing, the illustration on this one shows a Santa-hat-wearing golden retriever holding a letter in its mouth.)

There’s also A Season for Second Chances (G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 448 pages) by Jenny Bayliss, the author of last year’sThe Twelve Dates of Christmas (also Putnam, 368 pages), and Santa’s Sweetheart (Kensington Publishing, 233 pages) by Janet Dailey. I could go on, but you get the picture, and my keyboard is getting gritty with all the sugar.

But I did promise dogs, so check out Best in Snow (Minotaur, 320 pages) by David Rosenfelt if only to get a rush of serotonin from the cover, and It’s a Wonderful Woof (Forge, 272 pages) by Spencer Quinn.

Book Events

Author events

• BRENE BROWN Author presents Atlas of the Heart. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Dec. 2, 8 p.m. Via Zoom. Tickets cost $30. Ticket sales end Dec. 2, at noon. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• ERNESTO BURDEN Author presents Slate. The Bookery (844 Elm St., Manchester). Thurs., Dec. 2, 5:30 p.m. Visit bookerymht.com or call 836-6600.

• JACK DALTON Kid conservationist presents his book, Kawan the Orangutan: Lost in the Rainforest. Toadstool Bookshop, 375 Amherst St., Nashua. Sat., Dec. 4, noon. Visit toadbooks.com.

• DAMIEN KANE RIDGEN Author presents Bell’s Codex and My Magnum Opus. Toadstool Bookshop, 375 Amherst St., Nashua. Sun., Dec. 5, noon. Visit toadbooks.com.

• MICHAEL J. FOX Author presents No Time Like the Future. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Tues., Dec. 7, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Tickets cost $17.99, and include a copy of the book. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

Once Upon a Wardrobe, by Patti Callahan (Harper Muse, 320 pages)

His good friend J.R.R. Tolkien might be more popular in Hollywood, but Clive Staples Lewis — you know him as “C.S.” — continues to sell books nearly 60 years after his death.

The Oxford scholar and Christian apologist not only wrote books but inspired them. The Lewis-related catalog includes more than a dozen biographies, memoirs by people who knew him (among them A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken) and collections of Lewis quotes.

And now Southern writer Patti Callahan is capitalizing on Lewis’s enduring popularity by writing novels in the Lewisverse. They’re not quite historical novels, not quite fan fiction, but a blending of two disparate genres.

Callahan’s first was Becoming Mrs. Lewis, the 2018 account of the relationship between Lewis and his wife, New Yorker Joy Davidman. Written in first person, the book is Callahan’s imagining of how the relationship transpired, but apparently quite factual. Davidman’s son called it “extraordinarily accurate” and said the novel was more truthful than many nonfiction accounts about his mother.

Callahan’s latest, Once Upon a Wardrobe, again takes first person, this time the voice of a 17-year-old college student, Megs Devonshire, who befriends Lewis and his older brother, Warnie, in order to answer a question for her little brother.

Megs’ brother, George, is 8 and not expected to live until 9 because of a heart condition. He spends most of his time in bed and has become enthralled with a recently published children’s book, Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. A deep thinker for his age, George is obsessed with learning where the idea for Narnia arose, if the place is real. Since Megs takes classes near Magdalen College, where Lewis teaches, he begs her to find out.

Megs agrees; she adores her brother and wants to provide whatever happiness she can in his limited life. “I loved Dad with a fierce love, but I loved George more,” she says. “Maybe when we know we will lose someone, we love fiercer and wilder. Of course there will always be loss, but with George the end lingered in every room, in every breath, in every holiday.”

Although she often sees Lewis walking around the Oxford campus, she’s too shy to approach him directly and instead follows him home one night and takes to hanging out in the shrubbery, trying to summon the nerve to knock on the door. It’s there that the kindly Warnie discovers her one day, and, this being before stalking was a thing, he invites her inside for tea.

From there, a relationship evolves between the Lewis brothers and Megs, who is a math whiz studying physics and was initially dismissive of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, until she read it with her brother and became equally entranced by the story. C.S. Lewis, who went by Jack, is reluctant to answer Megs’ question outright, and instead offers her a series of stories about his life, told over a number of visits, which she goes home and relays to her brother.

In this way, Once Upon a Wardrobe is yet another Lewis biography, told in a fresh way, and like The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, it’s told in deceptively simple language. The narrator, after all, is a 17-year-old girl, although she delves into mature themes, such as illness and death. She’s a bit heavy-handed with the book’s theme, which is that life, and our experience of it, is the sum of the stories we tell ourselves, or that others tell us.

Even 8-year-old George grasps that, telling his sister, “I know you think the whole world is held together by some math formula. But I’ve thought about this a lot, and I think the world is held together by stories, not all those equations you stare at.”

The book at times feels somewhat formulaic (all protagonists must be earnest outsiders who don’t quite fit in; children are dispensers of wisdom) but Callahan has a deft touch and is beautifully descriptive. She goes to the source — Lewis’s memoirs and letters — to try to craft an answer to George’s question. When it comes, it might not be what you think. In fact, Lewis’s first imagining of a faun carrying an umbrella more resembles Stephenie Myers’ dream of a human and a vampire in a field than a theologian trying to create an allegory that represents Christianity. And Narnia, the name, didn’t come from a dream, but from a map: It’s derived from the name of a town in Italy.

Ultimately, this is a book for the diehard Narnia fan; people with little interest in those stories would have zero interest in this novel. But the prolific Callahan has 15 other novels worth checking out, including one published earlier this year. Surviving Savannah is historical fiction about an 1838 shipwreck that was called “The Titanic of the South.” B

Book Notes

The best-selling Hollywood memoir this month looks to be Will, a memoir by actor Will Smith, co-written with Mark Manson (Penguin, 432 pages), and this probably would have been true even before Oprah Winfrey deemed it the best memoir she’s ever read.

The Manson-Smith collaboration is an interesting one. Usually celebrity authors get writing help from relative unknowns. Manson is an author who may not be a household name but has serious publishing cred by virtue of his own books, 2016’s The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*** (Harper, 224 pages) and its followup Everything is F***ed, a Book about Hope (Harper, 288 pages).

We can safely assume there will be expletives in Will, but from the opening, it looks like a powerful, poignant read with no gratuitous cursing. An excerpt: “What you have come to understand as ‘Will Smith,’ the alien-annihilating MC, the bigger-than-life movie star, is largely a construction — a carefully crafted and honed character — designed to protect myself. To hide myself from the world. To hide the coward.”

Also in the entertainment category comes two “oral histories” of popular shows: The Office and The Sopranos. Setting aside how it can be an oral history on a printed page, these books promise to tell the most ardent fans stuff they don’t already know.

Welcome to Dunder Mifflin: The Ultimate Oral History of The Office (Custom House, 464 pages) is written by Brian Baumgartner, who played Kevin on the show, with Ben Silverman and Greg Daniels, the producer and original showrunner, respectively.

The other, also published this month, is Woke Up This Morning, the Definitive Oral History of The Sopranos (William Morrow, 528 pages). It’s by Michael Imperioli, who played Christopher in the HBO series, and Steve Schirripa, who played Bobby Baccalieri.

For the record, if it doesn’t explain the series’ infamous ending, they need to stop calling the book “definitive.”

Book Events

Author events

• BRENE BROWN Author presents Atlas of the Heart. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Dec. 2, 8 p.m. Via Zoom. Tickets cost $30. Ticket sales end Dec. 2, at noon. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• ERNESTO BURDEN Author presents Slate. The Bookery (844 Elm St., Manchester). Thurs., Dec. 2, 5:30 p.m. Visit bookerymht.com or call 836-6600.

• JACK DALTON Kid conservationist presents his book, Kawan the Orangutan: Lost in the Rainforest. Toadstool Bookshop, 375 Amherst St., Nashua. Sat., Dec. 4, noon. Visit toadbooks.com.

• DAMIEN KANE RIDGEN Author presents Bell’s Codex and My Magnum Opus. Toadstool Bookshop, 375 Amherst St., Nashua. Sun., Dec. 5, noon. Visit toadbooks.com.

• MICHAEL J. FOX Author presents No Time Like the Future. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Tues., Dec. 7, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Tickets cost $17.99, and include a copy of the book. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• JEN SINCERO Author presents Badass Habits. Virtual event hosted by The Music Hall in Portsmouth as part of its “Innovation and Leadership” series. Tues., Dec. 7, 7:30 p.m. Includes author presentation, coaching session and audience Q&A. Tickets cost $22. Visit themusichall.org or call 436-2400.

• KATHRYN HULICKAuthor presents Welcome to the Future. Sat., Dec. 11, 2 p.m. Toadstool Bookshop, 12 Depot Square, Peterborough. Visit toadbooks.com.

Poetry

• NH POET LAUREATE ALEXANDRIA PEARY Poet presents a new collection of poetry, Battle of Silicon Valley at Dawn. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Tues., Dec. 14, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• DOWN CELLAR POETRY SALON Poetry event series presented by the Poetry Society of New Hampshire. Monthly. First Sunday. Visit poetrysocietynh.wordpress.com.

Book Clubs

• BOOKERY Online. Monthly. Third Thursday, 6 p.m. Bookstore based in Manchester. Visit bookerymht.com/online-book-club or call 836-6600.

• GIBSON’S BOOKSTORE Online, via Zoom. Monthly. First Monday, 5:30 p.m. Bookstore based in Concord. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com/gibsons-book-club-2020-2021 or call 224-0562.

• TO SHARE BREWING CO. 720 Union St., Manchester. Monthly. Second Thursday, 6 p.m. RSVP required. Visit tosharebrewing.com or call 836-6947.

• GOFFSTOWN PUBLIC LIBRARY 2 High St., Goffstown. Monthly. Third Wednesday, 1:30 p.m. Call 497-2102, email elizabethw@goffstownlibrary.com or visit goffstownlibrary.com

• BELKNAP MILL Online. Monthly. Last Wednesday, 6 p.m. Based in Laconia. Email bookclub@belknapmill.org.

• NASHUA PUBLIC LIBRARY Online. Monthly. Second Friday, 3 p.m. Call 589-4611, email information@nashualibrary.org or visit nashualibrary.org.

Pastoral Song, by James Rebanks (Custom House, 294 pages)

Occasionally a book does so well across the Atlantic that publishers in the U.S. pick it up, hoping that American readers will warm to the author as well despite the peculiarities of some English words. This worked out splendidly for J.K. Rowling.

There are similar hopes for Pastoral Song, which the U.K.’s Sunday Times pronounced “nature book of the year” when it was first published as English Pastoral. Subtitled “A Farmer’s Journey,” the book is a meditation on the plight of small farmers who struggle to keep family farms going even as the despised “factory farm” gobbles a larger share of our food dollars each year.

James Rebanks, the author, is a thinking-man’s farmer, although he makes it clear that no true farmer has time to sit and think. He inherited his land from his father but got his love of farming from his grandfather, who was the bigger influence in his life. Of his father he writes, “I would try to help him and would inevitably do something wrong and be shouted at.”

The grandfather was gentler in his approach, not only to his grandson but to farming.

“He would simply gaze at his cows or sheep for what seemed like ages, leaning over a gate. As a result he knew them all as individuals. He could spot when they behaved differently because something was wrong, when they were coming into season or were about to give birth. He thought only fools rushed around,” Rebanks wrote.

This is all well and good for the practice of farming, but unfortunately for the reader, Rebanks brings his grandfather’s style to this book. In sum, it is Rebanks leaning over a gate, for what seems like ages, musing leisurely about the challenges of farming. It’s watching the grass grow, with very little happening in long stretches, but for the occasional offing of varmints. (And I wish I had not learned how Rebanks’ father rid his fields of rabbits, but it’s too late for that now.)

To be fair, Rebanks memorably conveys the harshness of a lifestyle that has been romanticized. “My parents were half-broke. I could see it in the second-hand tractors, rusting barn roofs, and old machinery that was always breaking down and never got replaced. But I could taste it too, in the endless boiled stew and mince that was served up.”

The family earned a tenuous living that would be foreign to workers with biweekly direct deposit. Their pay varied with the weather, and with rising interest rates and diving market prices, and the occasional murder of crows that could swoop in and destroy a field of barley. And farming requires an extraordinary amount of emotional toughness, what with all the horrible ways in which farm animals can die, even outside of slaughter. (When’s the last time you watched a rat try to drag away a chicken?)

“The logic chain is simple: we have to farm to eat, and we have to kill (or displace life, which amounts to the same thing) to farm. Being human is a rough business,” Rebanks writes. But, he says, there is a difference “between the toughness all farming required and the industrial ‘total war’ on nature that had been unleashed in my lifetime.”

The past 40 years, Rebanks says, has upended thousands of years of farming practices that came before it, and when his father died, leaving him the land, he was faced with the same dilemma confronting his father and grandfather — how to earn enough from the land “to pay our bills, service our debts, and make some money for us to live on” — in circumstances vastly different from theirs.

Then, after all this musing in his motherland, Rebanks up and comes to America to visit friends. And traveling through Iowa and Kentucky, eying the Confederate flags and Trump signs, he figures out who to blame: those grungy Americans!

This may have played well in the U.K., but it was a startling turn of events in an otherwise mournful elegy for the farmer, to have him pick up a bat and start swinging it wildly in the Iowa cornfields. He said Kentucky felt like a “landscape littered with ghosts and relics” and called Iowa “dark, flat and bleak.”

“Everything old was rotting. Barns leaned away from the wind, roofs half torn off.” The cause of this dystopian Midwest: “America had chosen industrial farming and abandoned its small family farms,” as if there was a lever we pulled in our last election. In fact, we vote for factory farms every time we visit a supermarket, he says. “The people in those shops seemed not to know, or care much, about how unsustainable their food production is. The share of the average American citizen’s income spent on food has declined from about 22% in 1950 to about 6.4% today … The money that people think they are spending on food from farms almost all goes to those who process the food, and to the wholesalers and retailers.”

Fair enough. But read the room. An English farmer coming over here to lecture Americans about their grocery shopping, diss our fruited plains? It feels a little rude.

And Rebanks concedes that “the overwhelming majority” of farms are not factory farms. “About 80 percent of people on earth are still fed by these small farmers,” he writes. That said, the work of a small farm is a “tough old game and doesn’t fit with any economic principle of minimizing work and maximizing productivity.” So what to do? Besides supporting your local farmers, “thinking longer term and with more humility,” Rebanks suggests planting trees. He plans to plant a tree every day for the rest of his life.

It’s clear to see why English Pastoral was a hit in the U.K., with its call for more sustainably produced food there “in order to avoid importing more from sterile, ruined landscapes like those of the American Midwest, or from land being cleared of pristine ecosystems in places like Indonesia and the Amazon.”

It’s less clear why this occasionally plodding, occasionally melodic memoir would do well here. As our grandmothers would say, don’t bite the hands that feed you. C

Book Events

Author events

• HILARY CROWLEY Author presents The Power of Energy Medicine. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Nov. 18, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• WENDY GORTON Author presents 50 Hikes with Kids: New England. Virtual event hosted by Toadstool Bookshops of Peterborough, Nashua and Keene. Sun., Nov. 21, 4 p.m. Via Zoom. Visit toadbooks.com.

• TANJA HESTER Author presents Wallet Activism: How to Use Every Dollar You Spend, Earn, and Save as a Force for Change. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Mon., Nov. 22, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• BRENE BROWN Author presents Atlas of the Heart. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Dec. 2, 8 p.m. Via Zoom. Tickets cost $30. Ticket sales end Dec. 2, at noon. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• JACK DALTON Kid conservationist presents his book, Kawan the Orangutan: Lost in the Rainforest. Toadstool Bookshop, 375 Amherst St., Nashua. Sat., Dec. 4, noon. Visit toadbooks.com.

• DAMIEN KANE RIDGEN Author presents Bell’s Codex and My Magnum Opus. Toadstool Bookshop, 375 Amherst St., Nashua. Sun., Dec. 5, noon. Visit toadbooks.com.

• JEN SINCERO Author presents Badass Habits. Virtual event hosted by The Music Hall in Portsmouth as part of its “Innovation and Leadership” series. Tues., Dec. 7, 7:30 p.m. Includes author presentation, coaching session and audience Q&A. Tickets cost $22. Visit themusichall.org or call 436-2400.

• KATHRYN HULICKAuthor presents Welcome to the Future. Sat., Dec. 11, 2 p.m. Toadstool Bookshop, 12 Depot Square, Peterborough. Visit toadbooks.com.

Poetry

• DOWN CELLAR POETRY SALON Poetry event series presented by the Poetry Society of New Hampshire. Monthly. First Sunday. Visit poetrysocietynh.wordpress.com.

Book Clubs

• BOOKERY Online. Monthly. Third Thursday, 6 p.m. Bookstore based in Manchester. Visit bookerymht.com/online-book-club or call 836-6600.

• GIBSON’S BOOKSTORE Online, via Zoom. Monthly. First Monday, 5:30 p.m. Bookstore based in Concord. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com/gibsons-book-club-2020-2021 or call 224-0562.

• TO SHARE BREWING CO. 720 Union St., Manchester. Monthly. Second Thursday, 6 p.m. RSVP required. Visit tosharebrewing.com or call 836-6947.

• GOFFSTOWN PUBLIC LIBRARY 2 High St., Goffstown. Monthly. Third Wednesday, 1:30 p.m. Call 497-2102, email elizabethw@goffstownlibrary.com or visit goffstownlibrary.com

• BELKNAP MILL Online. Monthly. Last Wednesday, 6 p.m. Based in Laconia. Email bookclub@belknapmill.org.

• NASHUA PUBLIC LIBRARY Online. Monthly. Second Friday, 3 p.m. Call 589-4611, email information@nashualibrary.org or visit nashualibrary.org.

Language

• FRENCH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE CLASSES Offered remotely by the Franco-American Centre. Six-week session with classes held Thursdays from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. $225. Visit facnh.com/education or call 623-1093.