Dear Friends and Readers:

2023 was an incredible journey on and off the page for me. I traveled more than ever (San Francisco, Austin, Palm Springs, Hawaii, Germany, Netherlands, and the country of Georgia). And I also managed to make it one of the most productive reading and writing years ever.  

Per tradition, I've rounded up my absolute ten favorite reads from 2023 plus fifteen others that I whole-heartedly enjoyed. Whether you pick up one or ten of these books, fiction or non-fiction, now or in the future, I hope that they give you as much as they have given me.
​
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, 
Jon 

P.S. Here are my yearly roundups from 2022, 2021, 2020, 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, and 2015. 

P.P.S. You can subscribe to the Reading List for more. Each month, I'll email you 3-6 books that I absolutely couldn't put down—usually a mix of fiction and nonfiction. I try to steer clear of bestseller (fake) lists, and instead explore authors who challenge my worldview, enchant me through language, and model how to live more nobly.
​

The One Should Disdain From Hardships: This is a compilation of the 21 surviving discourses of the stoic philosopher, Gaius Musonius Rufus (30-101 CE). He was the teacher of my favorite stoic, Epictetus, and widely influential in imperial Rome during his lifetime. In fact, fearing Rufus' influence and sympathies for the senate, Nero banished the teacher and many other philosophers between 71 and 75 CE. Rather than decrying the injustice, Rufus writes that it was an opportunity to practice philosophy and live a simple, honest life in his new home, the arid island of Gyaros. He eventually returned to Rome after Nero's death to resume teaching and study. These eight discourses spoke strongest to me:

1. That Man is Born with an Inclination Toward Virtue
2. That Women Too Should Study Philosophy
3. That Exile is not an Evil
4. What means of Livelihood is Appropriate for a Philosopher?
5. What is the Chief End of Marriage
6. Is Marriage a Handicap for the Pursuit of Philosophy?
7. Must One Obey One's Parents under all Circumstances?
8. On Furnishings

Letters From a Stoic: This is a compilation of some of the 124 private letters and treatises written by Lucius Annaeus Seneca. Born in Cordoba, (Roman) Spain to an accomplished lawyer and rhetorician, Seneca the Younger as he is known was a kind of proto-renaissance man of the Roman empire. He was raised in Egypt where he learned business administration, finances, geography, and ethnology. Later he delved into studying marine life, meteorology, and Pythagorean mysticism—which eventually led him to stoic philosophy. Seneca was the teacher of young Emperor Nero, a playwright of tragedies, and widely regarded for centuries after as a master of writing during 'the silver age of Latin'. 

As I reread Letters this fall, I was reminded of the poet Archilochus' most-famous line: "The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing." Seneca is the fox. His letters are chock-full of interesting observations on daily life and himself like:

• How to not be defeated by people who annoy you (Seneca found Rome's street traffic and rowdy gym bros too much when he needed to work)
• The importance of learning over a lifetime to love yourself and others—not the utility they bring
• Viewing blushing as a sign of self-awareness which can lead to self-improvement; eventually wisdom
• How to age gracefully by strengthening one's moral constitution and behaving calmly with one's negative emotions in check (especially anger) 
• The personal satisfaction and growth that comes from learning, especially philosophy, and the shame and ugliness that comes from a lack of reforming oneself

And yet, he struggled to live up to his own advice. Angry outbursts, lustful affairs, gossip within the Roman corridors of power, and, eventually plots to usurp that power—Seneca's shortcomings led to his suicide in 65 CE — falling on his own sword to save his wife and sons from the wrath of Emperor Nero, his own creation. 

Meditations: These are the private writings of perhaps the greatest Roman Emperor, Marcus Aurelius (121-180 CE). Dying from disease on the empire's northern frontier in late winter, the Emperor had actually ordered his servant to burn it. But thankfully, the servant whose name is long lost to history, disobeyed. Meditations' twelve books (chapters) are filled with both a ruthless self-examination and an earnest attempt to square the people, events, and conflicts around him. And his insights and wisdom have procured a citizenry across the globe: from Thomas Jefferson to American soldiers in the jungles of Vietnam. 

I read Meditations for the first time in 2012 when I had just graduated college and found myself in Irvine, California at my first 'grown-up' job. Rereading it eleven years later was both new and familiar. Some themes that stuck out to me this time was the orientation of philosophy as therapeutic—a tool to weather the storms of life, to extract beauty and value from every day encounters, and to better understand oneself. 

I love that Aurelius opens Meditations with an outpour of gratitude for the people who helped him most in life: family, friends, teachers, and inspirational historical figures. The longest section in Book 1's gratitudes belong to his adoptive father, Antoninus Pius, then secondly, to the gods themselves.

You can read more of my thoughts on Meditations here. 

by Gabriel Wienberg & Justin Mares | Audible | Paperback

 This is a highly valuable business book that has personally helped me to scale two e-commerce clients in 2023. The goal of the book is to provide a fast, cheap, and valueable process that businesses can replicate to find traction, or as the authors describe it, "quantitative evidence of customer demand." 

Two patterns of struggling business growth teams are: 1. an over-reliance on existing historical channel(s) and 2. a difficulty in predicting which of the 19 known channels will work best for their own business. 

Enter the Bullseye approach. Below are two explanation slides and 3 example slides for channel ideas:  

by Ira Levin | Paperback | Audible

Ira Levin is a treasure. He is one of the great forgotten authors of the twentieth century, along with Ayn Rand and Terence Rattigan—both of whom are referenced in Rosemary's Baby. Levin's style shines here with brevity, personality, and page-turning suspense. I could not put this one down, something I had experienced with his most-famous work, The Stepford Wives, a few years back. 

His command of language is masterful, but easy to miss. He breaks and bends grammar to improve the story: (describing Rosemary and Guy's new apartment with "a high high ceiling", capitalizing "The Night Someone Was on The Fire Escape" to mark a strong memory between friends, describing a dog's tail motion as "wig-wagged"). Simple, forced perspective. 

And such good suspense. I read the last hundred pages in one sitting. The ticking-time-bomb of the creepy, unholy situation felt so real—like it could be happening now, next door. 

by Sophocles | Paperback | Kindle

I first read Sophocles' play in the fall of my freshman year of high school. Antigone's defiance of the King (and her potential father-in-law) to honor the memory of her dead brother cut through so many forgettable assigned readings. It was her proud, heroic, and uncompromising actions in the face of great odds that made me love her—her decision to rise above a bully-king even if that means certain death. Fourteen years later, it was still such a powerful experience.

I also would highly recommend Sophocles' other two Theban Plays: Oedipus the King and Oedipus at Colonus, which I enjoyed in 2021 too. Aristotle believed the first to be the best work of literature at the time, greater ever than Homer's epic poems Iliad and the Odyssey. 

by Epicurus | Paperback | Audible

Epicurus (341–270 BCE) founded what became known as the Epicurean school of philosophy circa 307 BCE. It was known as The Garden in Athens, walled off and full of men, women, and even young ones from different classes, who gathered at a simple table for food, drink, and conversation. Epicurus held that physical and mental pleasure (and the absence of pain) is the highest good for a human. 'Ataraxia' (freedom from mental anguish) was the true source of happiness and what humans should strive toward.

​Achieving ataraxia was difficult — namely because Epicurus thought humans were plagued by two great fears: death and judgement from the gods. And so his philosophy delves into cause and effect, free will, and cosmology (understanding what the universe is comprised of and how the system(s) work). Both atheism and atomism are central to Epicureanism, a system much deeper than the meme that later Christians constructed (a rabid, range-of-the-moment hedonist). 

Interestingly, the Epicureans were considered the rival school to the Stoics (and to a lesser degree the Cynics), but Seneca and Marcus Aurelius both engage with Epicurus' ideas quite frequently in their surviving works. What I appreciated most was comparing the two schools with one another — and also Aristotle's own views on happiness. This year, I also read On the Nature of Things by Lucretius, a 7000-line poem written by a Roman follower of Epicurus. 
​

Paperback | Hardback | Audible

There are quite a few book series from my childhood that fostered a lifelong love for reading. Harry Potter is certainly among them. That's why in 2023 I made the year-long effort to work all seven books into my Audible listening list. Jim Dale, the award-winning narrator of the series did an exceptional job at voice-acting all of the characters. What struck me this time was how prescient the series was, particularly Books 4 and 5, which explore themes of fake news, government encroachment, self-censorship, and tribalism (mudbloods vs. pure bloods). 

But amidst all of the dark plans and bad guys, shines a positive and good-natured cast of heroes, professors, friends, allies, and animal companions. I'm grateful to have revisited Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, Hogsmead, the Burrow, and Gringotts to feel like a kid again. I can't wait to do the same with the original Inheritance Cycle and Paolini's newly released Book 5. 
​

As I mentioned last year when I finished The Fellowship of the Ring, Tolkien's world-building is astounding. From Middle-Earth's geography, history, languages, and culture to the beloved fellowship of nine companions trying to save it, I could not wait to finish the trilogy. ​This summer I devoured the Audible versions of both The Two Towers and The Return of the King while living and working in Germany. Andy Serkis, who played Smeagol in the movies, narrates so well. 

Later on in the fall, I also really enjoyed his renditions of The Silmarillion & The Hobbit. 
​

"In the late 20th century, we face a crisis in masculine identity of vast proportions...why is there so much gender confusion today, at least in the United States and Western Europe? ... We can look at family systems and see the breakdown of the traditional family...We have to look at two other factors...first, we need to take very seriously the disappearance of ritual processes for initiating boys into manhood...a second factor...show to us by one strain of feminist critique, is called patriarchy."

— Moore and Gillette, Introduction
​

This is a book ahead of its time. Originally published in 1990, the authors explore the beginnings of a now-much-worse-now crisis in western culture. The (intentional) stunting of boys by restricting their maturation is systematic, the authors contend, but fixable. To become men, boys must first graduate from boy psychology to man psychology. In the past this had been done with a sacred space (devoid of females), a ritual elder (male; wise; mature), a death of the child's ego, and a successful completion of a painful task. But instead, there are only pseudo-initiations (prisons, military conscription, gangs) which wound and destroy, but do not nurture or generate growth. 

Boys must be nurtured to grow on four planes of existence, each a side of an ever-stacking pyramid: the king (wise leadership), warrior (physical protector), magician (productive abilities), and lover (fostering healthy relationships). Initiation into manhood is a lifelong process, with clear steps in between and maturating is about exploring the outer reaches of our inner spaces. 

If you enjoy Jordan Peterson's Twelve Rules for Life, the works of Carl Jung, Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, reading Greek myths, or maybe just want to get a healthier perspective on life than the garbage we're fed on social media, this one is for you. 

Aristotle of Stagiera (384—322 BCE) is perhaps still one of the most influential philosophers in the world. He was the student of Plato, the teacher of Alexander the Great, and the father of logic. His greatest love was actually studying the natural world, particularly animals. He adored most in art Sophocles, especially the first of his Theban Plays, Oedipus the King, because it showed humans with agency making moral decisions based off their reasoning mind. He lived a happy and productive life with best friends and a healthy family, and he successfully navigated political turmoil for himself and his homeland. 

Edith Hall's book is a refreshing encapsulation of much of Aristotle's views on happiness ain order to help you achieve your own. President John F. Kennedy summed up Aristotelian happiness in a single sentence: "It means the full use of your powers along lines of excellence in a life affording scope." Happiness, Aristotle contends, comes as a result of good habits, which come from an effortful learning process. Your life is a project and requires active engagement with the world in order to improve it and yourself. 

Organized into ten entertaining and educational chapters, I was really pleasantly surprised by this book and the author's ability to clarify Aristotle's views with modern examples. In particular I loved her chapters on Communication (rhetoric) Potential, Decisions, and Intentions (ethics), and the book's closing, which explores Aristotle's views on mortality. 

You may also love Joe Sachs' translation of Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, which I recommended last year.

This book was crucial for me to restructure and revise a novel that I have been writing (and rewriting) for many years. Rather than getting mired down in Jungian archetypes and genre formulas (a common problem of writing reference books), The Anatomy of Story according to its author is aimed to pick up where Aristotle's Poetics left off. Truby unpacks story premises, plot structures, character development, moral themes, scene pacing and order, and style (especially dialogue). There are also eleven helpful exercises to complete at the end of each chapter, which I did for my own in-progress novel. 

I plan to read Truby's sequel book, The Anatomy of Genre, in 2024. 

1. The Complete Letters of Pliny the Younger. Pliny's letters paint a vivid account of Roman culture circa 80-100 CE. The praetor (Roman civil servant) under Domitian and later prefect under Trajan, explores Roman rituals and religion, the rise of early Christianity, the eruption of Vesuvius which killed his uncle, the social-political life in the capital, and visual descriptions of his beloved Tuscan estates. I particularly loved his description of a natural rhythmic spring located on the eastern side of Lake Como. The spring fills up and overflows every six to eight hours and it also fascinated Leonardo da Vinci. 

2. The Describer's Dictionary by David Grambs. My screenwriting mentor recommended this in college and it was so useful to revisit. Grambs offers a well-organized dictionary to describe 'adjectively' (with modifiers). Inside are thousands of words, mostly unusual and unpopular (aslant; sundered; glacis; frith; sashaying; virile; wistful) and structured by topics and themes (colors, terrain, architecture, animals, etc.). Additionally, he includes dozens of passages from fiction and non-fiction works that showcase excellent word-choice ("Then I went out to the courtyard. The night was clear. The toothed roof-edge, the watchman with his spear and horn, stood black against the stars." — Mary Renault, "The King Must Die").

3. Penguin's compendium of Early Greek Philosophy. This is the origin story of Western thought, which begins—not in Athens—but on the eastern shore of the Aegean sea, in the Greek states of Ionia, specifically the city-state Miletus circa 585 B.C. when, legend has it, Thales predicted an eclipse of the sun on May 28th. Predating the great schools of Plato and Aristotle (400-100 BCE) and of Socrates' execution (399 BCE), the early Greek philosophers, or Pre-Socratics, mostly explored three topics: logic, ethics, and physics (nature). They saw the world as ordered, intelligible, likely created by gods whose powers were less than nature's, and that the systems in the world were beautiful and pleasant to contemplate. I loved reading the fragments of the Ionians and Eleatics, especially Zeno, Parmenides, Heraclitus, and Democritus. 

4. The Selected Poetry of Li Po and Tu Fu. My friend, a very well-read individual, suggested I try some ancient Chinese poetry for its this-world, human-value perspective. I was grateful that I did. Li Po (701-62 CE) and Tu Fu (712-70 CE) were devoted friends and are traditionally considered the greatest of the Chinese poets. From Li Po's work, I sense a loner who wants to be found—not by his own words nor by others'—but by nature herself. 

​5. Jason and the Golden Fleece by Apollonius of Rhodes. I had heard an excellent retelling of this myth a few years back by Stephen Fry, but I wanted to read it for myself—especially because it's set on the Black Sea, whose shores I traversed myself while reading it. While I didn't find "the shaded grove of Ares, where the fleece hangs on the top of an oak tree...guarded...by a watchful dragon..." it was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. Apollonius' descriptions of sunlight and water are spectacular, as is his characterization of Medea. 

6. On the Nature of Things by Lucretius. This didactic poem is written in six parts circa 50 BCE by a Roman philosopher and poet. Within its 7000 lines, the author expounds upon Epicurus' school of philosophy from several hundred years earlier. Lucretius follows the Epicurean line of thinking that atoms comprise a godless universe and their nature determines much of the systems found in our world, including two crucial pursuits of humans—acquiring pleasures and minimizing pains. Two of the highest pleasures for Lucretius and Epicurus include friendship and contemplation (of life's big questions). I loved how Lucretius fused philosophical ideas with poetic forms. 

7. The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy. Paris, 1792. The Reign of Terror's guillotines are in full swing. Aristocrats are given no quarter by the lower classes, who also steal their fortunes. Enter the Scarlet Pimpernel, a disguised Englishman dead set on saving as many innocent French nobles as possible. The story is swashbuckling and quick-paced; I really appreciated Orczy's efficient characterization, which drives the plot forward to its climax. 

8. 38 Fiction Writing Mistakes (and How to Avoid Them) by Jack M. Bickham. I picked this up at the recommendation of Dr. Leonard Peikoff a few years back. And despite the oh-so-1990s style cover, was pleasantly surprised by the advice. In particular, Mistake #22: Don't Ignore Scene Structure.

Anytime writing a scene you must: 

A. Decide the main character's immediate goal
B. Get this clearly written down into the scene. 
C. On a separate note, write down for yourself, clearly, briefly the scenic question. (Ex: Will the hero sink the battleship? It must have a yes/no answer. 
D. In your story, after the goal has been shown, bring in another character who now states, just as clearly his opposition. 
E. Plan the maneuvers and steps in the conflict between the two. 
F. Write the scene moment by moment; no summary. 
G. Devise the disastrous ending the scene — a reversal that answers the question with bad outcome from the protagonist's POV. 

9. The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Having read Crime and Punishment in high school but no other works by Dostoevsky, I was interested in giving another of his books a try. My understanding is that The Idiot was the author's attempt to depict an innocent man. In it, twenty-six-year-old Prince Myshkin returns to Russia from a mental hospital in Switzerland. Believing his mental breakdowns are behind him, he attempts to assimilate back into his cultural heritage, against others' ulterior motivations. 

10 & 11. The Silmarillion & The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. Upon finishing the LOTR trilogy with Andy Serkis, I eventually plowed on into Middle Earth's two other greatest tales. While I enjoyed aspects of The Silmarillion's myths and legends, my favorite part came in the beginning in which Tolkien recounts the creation-myth of his universe. It involves the existence of many eternal stars and eventually the birth of sentient beings who worshipped their light with their voices. Eventually these voices formed a heavenly chorus of melodies, which birthed new creations: water, earth, and creatures. But the one dissenting voice spread disharmony and eventually evil creatures too. The Hobbit was definitely fun and quirky. I loved getting a bit more of the backstory to Fellowship of the Ring via Bilbo, Thorin, and Gandalf, but I much prefer the epic, serious tone of LOTR. 

12 & 13. The Madness of Crowds & The War on the West By Douglass Murray. I don't listen to nonfiction audiobooks often, but when I do it's usually because I want to hear the author's own voice,  tone, and passion. Murray is the perfect guide. His dark journeys into a dying Europe (and the west more broadly) helped me to better navigate 'the culture wars' as they've been billed in recent years—the dialogues, debates, and violence perpetrated on lines of gender, race, sexuality, ethnicity, class, and national identity. I found his commentary and examples startling, frustrating, and tragic—but important to hear. The tribalism, largely pushed and supported by the left, is profoundly destructive. Most of all though, I think it's important to dwell on Murray's proud and poignant defense of Western civilization's contributions to the world near the end of The War on the West. If you're looking for more Douglass Murray, I appreciated his Uncanceled History series on Youtube. 

14. The Eudemian Ethics by Aristotle. Named for the Greek word for happiness, Aristotle's second book on ethics (see his first here) focuses on asking and answering two questions: "What is a good life?" and "How can it be acquired?" I appreciated Aristotle's answer: happiness, which is a result of engaging in activities of virtue, wisdom, and pleasure. He also rebuttals the common answers given: the absence of pain and sickness, happy childhood events, and treating others as means to your ends. Like in his Nicomachean Ethics, I really appreciated Aristotle's thoughts on friendships and how they're crucial to practicing a virtuous life. 

15. Cod by Mark Kurlansky. Since at least as far back as the Vikings circa 985 CE, humans have fished cod. In fact, over twelve billion pounds are caught and consumed yearly. The largest and meatiest are off the coast of Massachusetts. However, cod is more of a delicacy now due to overfishing. In an attempt to regenerate the populations, Finland, Norway, Iceland, and other countries have put moratoriums on fishing cod for 5+ year periods. Kurlansky shows the enormous economic and cultural impact that one fish in the ocean has played for a thousand years. You may also love Paper and Salt by the author. His ability to shine a light on seemingly commonplace objects and make connections to the rest of the world is really impressive. I plan to read both Milk and Salmon in 2024.  [JG]
​​

Dear Friends and Readers: 

One decade. That's how long ago I started this blog. As I write these words, having just looked back at ten years' worth of book round ups, interviews with creatives I admire, and email conversations with fellow readers, I feel an immense gratitude. Thank you for reading along with me. Thank you for sharing your favorites too and thank you for the encouragement to keep going, even through the ups and downs and seasons of life. With 2023 upon us, I can't wait to dive into the next decade of stories together. 

Per tradition, I've rounded up my absolute ten favorite reads from 2022 as well as a dozen runners-up that I whole-heartedly enjoyed. These books have been my hiking companions, road trip passengers, boba tea partners, and a few of them old friends from years past. Whether you pick up one or ten of these books, fiction or non-fiction, now or in the future, I hope that they give you as much as they have given me.
​
​Sincerely, 
Jon 

P.S. Here are my yearly roundups from 2021, 2020, 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, and 2015. 

P.P.S. You can subscribe to the Reading List for more. Each month, I'll email you 3-6 books that I absolutely couldn't put down—usually a mix of fiction and nonfiction. I try to steer clear of bestseller (fake) lists, and instead explore authors who challenge my worldview, enchant me through language, and model how to live more nobly.
​

Two colleagues of mine, one at Huckberry years ago and the other at Literati this past fall, emphatically recommended Anne Lamott's Bird By Bird to me, and I was so grateful to have had enough sense to finally crack it open. 

In it, Lamott shares her personal journey as an aspiring novelist to a bestselling writer. She doesn't flinch from the difficult bouts of perfectionism, editorial rejections, constant self-doubt, and the difficulty of establishing the discipline of writing every day. In fact, she laughs (mostly) about these struggles, and in doing so takes her own recommendation and "being the lighthouse," for other aspiring writers. “Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining.” By sharing her trials and triumphs, I walked away a bit more grounded and energized. 

The title comes early in the book in which Lamott's brother had a school project to work on that involved dozens of bird reports. He was overwhelmed, but just took it "bird by bird," until, finally, it was finished and the sum of one-off pages was a full report. It's that simple and that difficult. 
​

Aladdin is perhaps the most well-known fairy tale of all time. Its origin, though, is a bit foggy. Immortalized by Disney with the animated 1992 film starring Robin Williams as Genie, the tale may have been created in France. Antoine Gallard's fairy tale of Aladdin, or The Wonder Lamp debuted in the early 1900s. It poses as a Syrian bedtime tale however, and one set in China. But the tale could be much older and a part of the 1001 Arabian Nights, although scholars question this too. 

Whatever its true origin, the coming-of-age adventure is full of exotic empires, dangerous travel, deceptive magicians, cursed treasure, wish-fulfilling desert genies (or jinns), and romance with a princess and our poor hero. Yasmine Seale's translation and Paulos Lemos Horta's editing made this a fast, fun afternoon read. Each chapter is ten pages and has a clear sense of story progression, with consequences playing out for the characters based on their choices, which build to a climax and resolution.

​As I read it, I thought about story principles too. Sometimes details were planted earlier and cashed in on later for dramatic effect. Other times, details were never mentioned before the story required them, which killed the spell a bit for me. This isn't a translation or editing issue, but probably a fidelity to the original texts. Even these 'Deus ex machina' moments have a charm though, a reassuring quality to me. The type of world constructed in Aladdin is exotic, full of beauty and cunning traps, but the riddles are solvable, the villains not invincible, and true love is just a matter of time and effort. Oh, and storytellers are nearly all-powerful, including Scheherazade, the mythic mother of all stories. She of course begins and ends this one. 

I have to note the book's construction too. The cover is beautiful and the pages have just the right amount of words on the page to flow for easy page-turning.

​You can read my full review here. 

I have loved the ancient Greeks ever since discovering Edith Hamilton's illustrated Mythology at a school book fair in 7th grade. During the 2020 lockdowns I returned to many of these stories by way of actor/author/comedian Stephen Fry. His renditions of the Greek gods, heroes, and antagonists were like a long dream—one that I treasured during many an afternoon and evening painting, walking, or cooking. Mythos was first, and this summer I delved into his second, Heroes. 

With extraordinary color, drama, wit, wisdom, clarity and brevity, I sailed the wine-dark sea with Perseus along his quest to kill Medusa and acquire the golden fleece. I tagged along with Heracles during his twelve trials of strength and honor. I met brave Jason, cunning Theseus, the female hunter Atalanta, the brash Bellepheron, and tragic Oedipus too.

All the while entertained by some of the greatest and oldest stories ever told, I felt and still feel so indebted to my guide, Stephen Fry, who helped me make sense of it all—the myths and monsters, the Greece language and geography, and the relevance of it all to modernity.

Carl Jung viewed myths as the dreams of mankind's collective unconsciousness. That may be true, but staying a bit closer to the Greeks, I think that their myths show a beautiful and dangerous world of order and chaos. Their heroes shed light on exotic locations, slay dangerous divine monsters, and meet their unique destinies—sometimes of their own choosing and sometimes on the path they take to avoid it. In doing so, the gods' powers are ultimately diminished and man's abilities grow—abilities to reason, to feel, to understand, build, survive, thrive, and wonder. 

You can read my full recommendation here. 
​

Paperback | Audible 

The story of American Wolf spans two decades, two states, dozens of wolf packs, and hundreds of square miles. In 1995, after passionate public debate, legal suits, and political agendas, fifteen Canadian wolves were introduced to Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. The next year, they added sixteen more. By 2003, 174 wolves called America's first and largest national park home and were divided into fourteen packs.  Each one competed for food, mates, and territory. The Druid Pack, named by Yellowstone's research team because of its territory's proximity to Druid Peak, was the alpha pack. It boasted a staggering 37 members, the largest ever recorded on earth.

It had been early 70 years since wolves were systematically and tragically exterminated from Yellowstone by the federal government in 1926. But Yellowstone's new generation of wolves weren't just surviving. They were thriving. This experiment helped to usher in a golden age of research about ecosystems and the role of the wolf in them. In fact, when wolves were re-introduced to Yellowstone, rivers came back.

Read my full recommendation here. 

Paperback || Audible

Booker Taliaferro Washington's Up From Slavery is a fascinating and inspiring memoir of his life. Born in 1858 or '59 in Franklin County, Virginia as a slave, he was freed by Proclamation Declaration at age five or so. His mother and siblings moved and lived in poverty. Always yearning to read and learn, Booker eventually travelled with saved money to apply at Hampton, VA one of the few black colleges. A teacher Miss Mary F. Mackie hired him as a night janitor to earn tuition and attend school during the day. There he also met General Armstrong, a Union General, who became a lifelong mentor and support to him.

Upon graduating, BTW founded Tuskegee University in Tuskegee, Alabama for black students. There he built and rebuilt a campus, developed a curriculum, and solicited for funds so that the school would flourish. The core principles of his education included personal hygiene and domesticity, math, reading and writing, and learning a trade, such as woodworking and farming. The goal was to educate new teacher who could then take their knowledge and spread it back to their communities and share the lessons.

One striking theme throughout is his moral orientation toward work and trade. He viewed economic prosperity as a crucial means to foster collaboration between races and individual healing. 

Paperback | Audible | Kindle

Tolkien's world-building is unmatched. I am still astounded by his invention of Middle-Earth for all of its history, languages, cultures, characters, and the beloved fellowship of nine companions who set out to save it. ​This fall, I devoured the Audible version of the first installment, read by Andy Serkis, who played Smeagol in the movies. His voice-acting shot fresh life into the already terrific character dialogue and storytelling narration. 

Paperback | Audible | Kindle

This all-time favorite was a brilliant re-read. Nicholas de Urfe's flight from gray England to the lively, bright Greece in which he befriends a reclusive millionaire named Conchis is one of the most spellbinding, frustrating, and suspenseful tales that has truly haunted me since I was fifteen. It feels like a mix of The Odyssey and Alice in Wonderland , but darker, more cerebral, and heartbreaking. 

This time I was just as enchanted by Fowles' descriptions of wild Grecian landscapes, and his characters' powerful dialogue on love, sex, life, and their meanings. And, I was still left wanting more at the story's ending scene. 

In his later years, Fowles' viewed The Magus with a sort of favoritism and I think he's right to do so, but The Collector (1963) and The Ebony Tower (1974) are so close for me too. The first is about a butterfly collector who kidnaps a young woman he's obsessed with to keep in his home under lock and key. It's told from his perspective for the first half and hers from the second. Ebony is a compilation of one novella, a translated medieval legend, and three short stories. The subtext and endings are delicious. 
​

The #1 New York Times bestseller, Atomic Habits, has sold over 5 million copies worldwide and been translated into more than 50 languages. It's also the *only* book I read back-to-back. Ever. 

It is short, direct, practical, informative, and perhaps one of the most actionable books you'll find in the self-help section (see below's list of resources for next steps after reading). I want to share a bit about habit formation from the book, and also James' mantra: “When making plans, think big. When making progress, think small.” 

You can read my full review here, but you may also want to explore these online free resources too: 

• All Atomic Habit Resources (from annual Integrity Reports to data visualization of studies cited and much more)
• The Habits Scorecard (For ranking your current habits positive or negative)
• The Habits Cheat Sheet (For habit formation or destruction) 
• The Habits Contract Sheet (For next-level accountability partners

​

Paperback || Audible

It's been said by some that Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics is the greatest self-help book ever written. Nicomachean is the Greek word for "victor in battle," and so while courage does count in Aristotle's ethical system as one of four major virtues (courage, justice, temperance, practical judgement), the philosopher begins with an exploration of happiness. 

Aristotle writes that moral virtues are the means to achieving various ends—all of which are some form of good—and lead to a state of happiness. Living virtuously, he emphasizes, is to engage in an active state or condition, not hit a perfect destination and stay there, passively. 

My favorite virtue that Aristotle explores surprised me. He views friendship as an integrator of cities and entire civilizations. Justice, a major virtue of Aristotle's system, he argues is necessary, because not all humans are friends. In those cases between strangers or enemies, goodwill is not the default state, and requires deliberate, difficult, virtuous action to treat one another properly. I found this point very interesting, and probably true. 

Aristotle contends that there are primarily three types of friendships:

1. Use: those who love one another for what is useful, and for what could come to them through the friendship. 
2. Pleasure: Those who love doing things together or how one makes them feel. Charm, witty conversation, experiencing the same kind of music or food. 

But these two types are "incidental," and not likely to last. The complete form of friendship is that between people who are good and are alike in virtue, "since they wish for good things for one another in the same way insofar as they are good, and they are good in themselves." In this way, "...genuine friendship" for Aristotle, writes the editor, "becomes a measure of closeness to good character." 

You can read my full recommendation here. 
​

Jacques Lusseyran was blinded at the age of seven. It happened one day at school in 1916. A fellow schoolboy accidentally shoved little Jacques from behind in the hallway, smashing his face against the wall. The boy's eyeglasses shattering, and despite surgeries and time to heal, Lusseyran's vision was gone forever. From that day on though, he discovered a new world amidst the darkness; his senses of touch, smell, and hearing became heightened as did his understanding of the deeper motivations of people around him. 

On June 14th, 1940, Nazi tanks entered a nearly deserted Paris. Jacques was just nineteen. Many French citizens adapted to the new reality, even allying with their conquerors. Some resisted including Jacques. 97% of the French resistance were men. 3% women. The majority were under 30 years old. 14% were under 18. Lusseyran was voted by his teenage comrades in the resistance to be in charge of all recruiting, because he had "the sense of human beings." During the resistance, Lusseyran interviewed 600+ potential recruits. "People would not easily deceive me. I should not forget names or places, addresses, or telephone numbers." Always before joining the resistance, candidates were told, "Go to the blind man. When he has seen you, I shall have something to tell you."

Lusseyran was eventually arrested, betrayed by a young spy. The Nazi SS arrested him and interrogated him 38 times, but could not crack his web of lies. Eventually, they transported Lusseyran and 2,000 Frenchman to Buchenwald. His life story is incredibly powerful, as are the acts of courage by so many other French youth. Two others worth exploring: 
​

• Guy Moquet was a young man executed randomly at the hands of the Germans, and whose letters of courage emboldened his generation. 
• Maroussia Naitchenko was a political activist adept at sensing and escaping Gestapo traps. 

​
The "sudden courage" that thousands of young men and women displayed to resist the Nazi invaders was staggering. You can read my full recommendation here. 
​

This year, like most years, I uncovered so many other enriching, thrilling, substantive fiction and non-fiction, so I've pulled a dozen more that spoke to me. As I mentioned before, they've been my hiking companions, road trip passengers, boba tea partners, and a few of them old friends from years past. Whether you pick up one or ten of them, from above or below, now or in the future, I hope that they give you as much as they have given me.

1. You Only Live Twice and The Man With the Golden Gun by Ian Fleming. The two finale James Bond novels, a series I began nearly ten years ago, and one I would say is truly a favorite. 

2. Saint Joan by Bernard Shaw. A dramatic re-imagining of the trial and execution of Joan of Arc by one of my favorite play-writes. Read more plays (especially these 7 favorites). 

3. A Hunter-Gatherer's Guide to the 21st Century: Evolution and the Challenges of Modern Life by Heather Heying and Bret Weinstein. A fascinating attempt to reconcile our modern problems by returning to our past. One quote that I was left pondering: “The campfire is a forge of ideas…We can accurately pass a complex abstraction from one mind to another by simply vibrating the air between us. It is everyday magic that passes without our notice.”   
​
4. The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke. This is a beautiful compilation of an early 20th century creative orphan, whose estrangement from his times, his home country, and perhaps from his peers is felt in every line. One that rings clear to me: "Whoever you are: some evening take a step out of your house, which you know so well. Enormous space is near..."

5. Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche. A bit more poetic that my favorite, Beyond Good and Evil, and yet full of aphorisms and powerful declarations of freedom, empowerment, and unflinching honesty. 

6. The Hustler by Walter Tevis (1928—1984). A master-apprentice tale of a hot shot pool shark trying to beat Chicago's best. Tevis is perhaps best known now for The Queen's Gambit, which was turned into a fantastic miniseries by Netflix starring Anya Taylor-Joy as an orphaned chess prodigy in 1950's America. But he also wrote a sequel to The Hustler called The Color of Money, which continues the tale of Fast Eddie in Chicago years later. In 1986, Martin Scorsese directed the movie adaptation with Paul Newman and Tom Cruise. 

7. Washington Black by Esi Edugyan. A fantastical slave narrative about a young black boy who escapes with his dead master's abolitionist brother on an airship. Full of both flinching horror and exotic adventures. 

8. Lifespan: Why We Age - and Why We Don't Have To by David A. Sinclair PhD and Matthew D. LaPlante. The book itself for me is what Tyler Cowen would call a "quake book," which I've certainly had my fair share of (from gentle tremors to Magnitude 8+). This book is dense. I tried to absorb the medical and scientific information as best I could and get to the main points, which I have listed out here. 

9. Vertigo by Boileau-Narcejac; translated by Geoffrey Sainsbury. Alfred Hitchcock's 1958 Vertigo is one of my favorites since film school, and so cracking open the novel was just a matter of time. Originally penned by France's hottest thriller duo for Hitchcock himself in 1954, the novel D'entre Les Morts (The Living and the Dead) disorients and frightens through a nightmare of twists and turns. 

10. Brothers in Arms by James Holland. A white-knuckled, incredibly well-researched account of a British tank division in the fight against Nazi Germany for the future of Europe.

11. Who Moved My Cheese? ​by Spencer Johnson and Kenneth Blanchard. A power single-sitting allegory for life and business. 

12. Works and Days by Hesiod. Maybe the first poem of Western civilization. Likely a predecessor of Homer, whose epics the Iliad and Odyssey mark the beginning of western literature, Hesiod's core theme is that for humans, happiness is best attained through self-sufficient work, which is a gift to be enjoyed as a means and and end, especially when shared. "Don't be foul-weathered at the crowded feast; The pleasure's most when shared; the cost is least." Full recommendation here. 

"A man's anger can never age and fade away, not until he dies. The dead alone feel no pain."
​— Creon, Oedipus at Colonus

Paperback || 105 pages

In this sequel play by Sophocles, Oedipus, once a beloved king of Thebes, is now a self-blinded old man full of regret. He has suffering years alone in self-imposed exile. Now though, his endless torment has led him to a small city outside Athens, called Colonus, where he may be cleansed of his double-blood crime. 

There is a sacred grove near Colonus with an altar to the gods for rituals to be performed. If he would be permitted to complete them by King Theseus of Athens, an enemy of his former kingdom, then perhaps Oedipus would achieve divine forgiveness for accidentally killing his father and marrying his mother. 

Will Theseus and the Athenians help him, and if so why? Or will King Creon, the new ruler of Thebes and Oedipus' uncle and brother, stop him first? And where do the alliances of Oedipus daughters/sisters and son/brother lie? Will Ismene, Antigone, and Polynices help or hurt him? 

This conclusion to Oedipus' tragic transgressions is a tense tug-of-war between brothers and sisters and Athenians and Thebans, with the old man's broken soul in the balance. I loved the Greek Chorus' monologues, which gave voice to the unimaginable, heavy regrets of Oedipus: "Not to be born is best, when all is reckoned in...what griefs won't stalk [my] days? Envy and enemies, rage and battles, bloodshed and last of all despised old age..." 

This second play was a part of Sophocles' famous Three Theban Plays. The last one is titled Antigone, after Oedipus' daughter, who is an enduring hero in her own right. I loved this one in high school and am grateful to have now read the two plays about the family from which she came. All three are powerful tragedies, but most tragic to me is that their author wrote over 100 plays in his life, yet only seven still remain.

Read Sophocles. Read plays (here are eight of my favorites). They're brief, powerful, and some of the best stories I've ever read. [JG]

From The Three Theban Plays || 90 pages

"Drive the corruption from the land, don't harbor it any longer, past all cure, don't nurse it in your soil—root it out!"
​
​— The Oracle of Delphi, Oedipus the King
​

In Aristotle's Poetics, the ancient Greek philosopher contrasts history from art. History records what men have done. Art shows men what might be and ought to be. Two great works of art, Aristotle contends, are Homer's epic poems the Iliad and the Odyssey, but perhaps the greatest work of art was Oedipus the King. The reason Aristotle loved Sophocles' short tragic play most, was that it focused on  the moral choices made by the story's characters. Oedipus is not a long list of events and characters pulled along by fate like Homer's tales of Troy and Odysseus, but rather a plot driven characters who face real value conflicts. 

Sophocles sets the situation briefly: "Many years have passed since Oedipus solved the riddle of the Sphinx and ascended the throne of Thebes, and now a plague has struck the city." In order to understand why the gods are punishing Thebes, Oedipus sends his wife's brother Creon to Athens in order to seek council from the Oracle at Delphi. Speaking for Apollo himself, the Oracle declares that Thebes suffers because Oedipus' predecessor, King Laius, was murdered by a man who still lives in the city. In response, Oedipus declares before all of Thebes a promise to avenge their late king and warns those who shelter the killer. 

Far from a tyrant barking threats, King Oedipus is highly respected for his rational thinking by his subjects and he worships often at the temple of Apollo, the god of reason. He is passionate and resolute about finding King Laius' killer, and must be willing to follow the trail of testimonies and truths wherever they lead—even if that means into his own house and soul. [JG]

"Nothing human can penetrate the future."
​— Jocasta, Oedipus the King
​

Paperback || Est. 100 pages 
Translation and Notes by A. E. Stallings
​

"These days [of work] are gifts to those who dwell on earth."
​— Hesiod, Works and Days
​

Hesiod's Works and Days is one of the first poems of Western civilization. Likely a predecessor of Homor, whose epics the Iliad and Odyssey mark the beginning of western literature, Hesiod's poem comes from roughly 700 B.C. but feels suprisingly modern. First, it's short, weighing it at just 828 lines (contrasted with the Iliad's 15,693 for example) and as translator A. E. Stallings writes, Works and Days is a "quirky mix of the cosmic, the earthly, and the personal."

Hesiod's core theme is that for humans, happiness is best attained through self-sufficient work, which is a gift to be enjoyed in and of itself as well as of course what one produces. "Don't be foul-weathered at the crowded feast; The pleasure's most when shared; the cost is least." 
​

At the poem's outset, perhaps for the first time ever recorded, Hesiod calls upon the Muses, those local, Panhellenic goddesses who inspire artists and creatives. With their help surely, the poet then regales us with a tale of sibling rivalry, exploring themes of justice and resentment. All the while though, Hesiod keeps impressing upon the importance of laboring, taking the long view, and celebrating "a gospel of work."

The format is a sort of self-help letter to his brother, Perses, whom Hesiod wishes to speak "the plain truths to steer him by," as well as settle a dispute over their late father's land that both feel entitled to claim. But the central message is really a call to action: to attain happiness through working hard every day. As I read, I laughed aloud at some of Hesiod's older-brother moral maxims: 

· "Don't let a woman mystify your mind
with sweet talk and the sway of her behind." 

· "Don't nurture Arrogance—she's a disaster
for lowly mortals; she will overmaster." 

· "The straight and narrow path the gods have set
to Virtue is steep and long, and paved with sweat." 
​

Sometimes, Hesiod has been called a "misogynist" (someone who hates women) or a "misanthrope" (someone who hates everyone), but in Works and Days, I sense a playful, tongue-in-cheek humor mixed with his moral perspective that focuses on positives. What's struck me throughout was a refreshing celebration of one's station in life—but also one's ability to alter it. Hesiod writes about the displacement of fellow Greeks who are returning to the olive groves and farmland of their ancestors because of the corruption encountered when living in the cities. Even in 700 B.C. Greece, the world was full of social maneuverability, open country to be travelled, seas to be sailed, trade, wealth; opportunities for more in life—if only his little brother Perses, and us modern readers, would see it. [JG]

"No race can prosper till it learns that there is as much dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem. It is at the bottom of life we must begin, and not at the top. Nor should we permit our grievances to overshadow our opportunities."

— Booker T. Washington, The Atlanta Exposition Address

​