[REVIEW] Can’t We All Disagree More Constructively? by Jonathan Haidt

[Buy the full book HERE.]

Okay, so first of all, no. No, we cannot. I have to admit I feel some type of way about these conciliatory centrist hot takes from white academics (and other public figures) who have relatively low existential stakes in the present US situation. This kind of jolly elitist water cooler conjecture from those with no skin in the game is exactly what leads to the continued large-scale disenfranchisement that is currently fueling extremism and conspiracism. When I realized that the title of this wasn’t actually tongue in cheek I got a little annoyed with the book and with myself for reading it. 


That said, there are some interesting bits of info in this book (actually an edited chapter of the much longer work A Righteous Mind, originally published in 2013, which excuses the seeming tone-deafness in the present situation). Haidt is a social psychologist and outlines some interesting thoughts on the possible genetic and environmental underpinnings of conservatism and liberalism. Other than that, the book’s main point is to outline that the cause of the increasing sociopolitical divide in America right now is that — wait for it — different groups of people have different values, which leads to different cultural narratives, which means the two sides don’t understand each other.

Well, duh.

 
He also gives us a quick rundown of those narratives and the major things he thinks each group gets right and wrong in the purest political terms  For someone like me, whose political foundations are people-centered and relational, this was informative but also irritating because of how clearly the commentary is tipped towards mainstream, experientially disconnected academic political thought–specifically the author’s own intellectual conservative views and desire for a return to an idealized centrism–something he openly admits but poorly interrogates, IMO. He waxes nostalgic about the good old days pre-90’s when red and blue politicians were friends and collaborators, ignoring how the demographic homogeneity of Congress in the Reagan era (every Congressional leadership position was held by a cronyistic white dude, with the very notable exceptions of Geraldine Ferraro and Daniel Inouye) enabled mass inequality and corruption, despite the existence of a political center. Basically, the existence of a political center didn’t serve or represent large swathes of America, who were still left out of the nuts and bolts of policymaking on a federal level, and like most old guard academics, Haidt misses that entirely and doesn’t address or even consider the massive blind spot over the idea that the system he describes and idealizes doesn’t work for everybody and actively works against many. All of these lofty analyses of left, right and center are absolutely meaningless in a system that increasingly has two entirely different positions for most–up or down. (I haven’t read all of A Righteous Mind yet, and he may unpack this eventually in that book, but I doubt it.) To be fair, the author would probably dismantle that point and most of my other criticisms of his work pretty neatly using the points made in the section about the blind spots of left-leaning folk, to which I can only close my eyes, put my hands over my ears, and hum in reply.

I’m being a bit snarky because so little of this book aligns with my own views, but it is well -researched, well-written and I did learn a lot, which was the point of reading it. There’s a lot of objective fact to chew on as well as all of the claims and cases the author lays out, which do provide interesting viewpoints and thought exercises with which to sharpen my own understanding of politics and polarization on. Haidt knows his stuff. I just think his angles are all wrong and his own views too cynical and irrelational. (Given that he apparently is now discussing the very real possibility of permanent division in US society in interviews, he hasn’t changed much on the cynicism.) When you add that to the annoyance I feel at realizing that really, none of his stances, pronouncements and theories mean anything to this author but the purest political thought exercise, with a little academic clout and some book royalties for seasoning, I don’t exactly recommend this outside of research–in which case you may as well just read all of The Righteous Mind and get a fuller picture of how different political minds self-justify (and could someday theoretically co-exist in a perfectly meritorious, perfectly equitable bubble. I swear I’m not rolling my eyes as I type this.)

 
3 stars and a polite, non-partisan request to disregard the fingermarks all over my tablet screen to this book. 

(Beautiful people–this was not my favorite book, but I learned something. Sometimes it’s like that. The book reviewed is only available as an Amazon Digital short, which I will not link to, but it’s also a chapter of a longer work called The Righteous Mind, which is available at the Equal Opportunity Bookshop. Remember, this blog has affiliate relationships and if you click/purchase anything a commission might be earned. Peace!)

Last Week In Books: The Plague and the Struggle Continue

  • Heading back to a lighter note–the video above is an interesting list of books from and about Taiwan from world-traveling bloggers Books and Bao. While their take on the country as a whole is a little naïve in my opinion, the list is really good and I’ve added K-Ming Chang’s Bestiary to my TBR. [via Books and Bao]
  • Several authors share what they read to get them “through” the pandemic (Is it over? It is not! Slow down!). Charles Yu read socially indicting non-fiction, while Kiley Reid(Such A Fun Age) relied on Orwell’s Animal Farm. I don’t know what else I was expecting, exactly. [via Time]
  • Last link for today; speaking of the plague that is not yet over, Margaret Atwood is editing a Decameron-esque collaborative novel called Fourteen Days: An Unauthorized Gathering, about strangers telling stories on a New York rooftop during lockdown. Atwood’s been on my ‘meh’ list for a while, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little excited, since it gathers a really interesting collection of writers including Celeste Ng, Angie Cruz, Nafissa Thompson-Spires, and John Grisham(…?). [via The Guardian]

That’s it for this week, beautiful people. Read something good this weekend.

(Quick reminder; this blog has affiliate relationships with sites like Bookshop, and if you click and purchase, a commission may be earned. Peace!)

[REVIEW] Moon of the Crusted Snow, by Waubgeshig Rice

(Find it HERE.)

Evan Whitesky is a loving father, doting husband, and pretty good moose hunter who lives on an Anishinaabe reserve in Northern Canada. As he preps for the upcoming winter, a massive power outage cuts the reserve entirely off from the outside world. While Evan and his family are somewhat secure, partially because of their conscious reclamation of heritage practices, the same is not true for the whole community. As the rest of the world faces apocalypse, visitors begin to creep north and infringe on their carefully constructed, paper thin peace.

For the first third of this book I was disappointed. The writing seemed flat, the story slow, and the details about the apocalypse apparently overtaking the whole world were annoyingly scant.

Then white settlers in survivalist gear start showing up to demand food and shelter–and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. This book has been promoted as dystopian fiction. It’s not. It’s horror, layered with references to a particular being from Indigenous mythology that I know better than to name. It’s also not slow-it’s deliberate, with a chilling payoff. The prose is still a little flat, but it’s serviceable, and this is a first novel, after all.

I also really appreciate the character of Evan Whitesky. He reminds me of a couple guys I grew up with–thoughtful, patient boys who grew up to be thoughtful, patient men who quietly join the hard work of sharing and reclaiming positive cultural practices in communities struggling in the lengthy aftermath of colonization, oppression and genocide without veering into toxicity. While I’m aware that this holds a special significance in Indigenous communities, there are men a little like Evan in communities of color all across the Americas, and they don’t get to be the hero in stories often enough.

Speaking of culture–a special shout out to @anishinaabekwereads for unintentionally helping me engage with the Anishinaabemowin (language) in the book. She often uses it in her posts, and that tiny bit of shared familiarity got me to find online resources so I could understand the untranslated Anishinaabe dialogue throughout the book. Miigwech!

I liked this and want more stories from this author. 4 stars and a hot piece of bannock to Moon Of The Crusted Snow.

(Fellow readers! This one was scary but good! If you want to read it, consider purchasing it from the Equal Opportunity Bookshop. Be aware that this blog has an affiliate relationship with Bookshop and any purchases made from clicks on this site may result in a commission being paid. Peace!)

Last Week in Books: Five Fingers of Diverse Book News

This one’s gonna be a quickie, fellow readers. I have hair to wash, wine to drink, and a ridiculously early alarm set for tomorrow(Sunday) morning due to this silly impulse I have to socialize with, y’know, people. (Ew.)

I’ma hit you with 5 really quick bookish links and then I’m going to run back off the internet for the evening.

  • Kazuo Ishiguro’s new book Klara and the Sun is getting remarkably rave reviews. I haven’t read anything of his since Never Let Me Go wrecked my peace of mind for a season, but this new book seems to have a more hopeful bent and I’m looking forward to it. [via Wall Street Journal]
  • The webcomic Qahera, about a furious feminist Islamophobe-fighting anti-racist hijabi superheroine, is worth a look, as is Egyptian artist Deena Mohamed’s printed graphic novel trilogy Shubeik Lubeik when it comes out in English later this year. (Unless you read Arabic, in which case you can go grab it now.) [via The Lily]
  • Octavia Butler’s first book, the slavery time travel masterpiece Kindred, has had a pilot episode for a television adaptation ordered by FX. I feel faint, yet joyous. [via Deadline]
  • Once upon a time, I went to theology school and the scholar NT Wright was basically a modern day Apostle Paul to many of my classmates. I think that’s the only reason I find this review of NT Wright’s pandemic theology reflection, God and The Pandemic, interesting. That, and it’s by fellow book blogger Bob on Books. Also, it’s the first thing I’ve seen written by any person of faith that has admonished people to care for others in a pandemic as an act of faith. This whole experience has seemed like a bit of a self-determined free for all, when you get down to it and I’m a bit surprised by how communities of faith have not responded, mostly. Correct me if I’m wrong. [via Bob on Books]
  • So the last link today is also a bit of a correction. Last week I posted about the boycott on Amazon, presumably in support of warehouse workers. However, it turns out that the workers themselves aren’t behind this boycott and participating in it might hurt more than it helps. Read about it and decide for yourselves. [via Slate]

Welp, that’s it for this week, fellow readers. This wine isn’t going to drink itself. (I wish this hair would wash itself, though.) Remember that this blog has affiliate relationships and if you click and purchase anything through a link you find here, a commission might be earned by yours truly. Peace!

[REVIEW] The Powder Mage Trilogy, Brian McClellan

(Find it HERE.)

I think all serious readers have their comfort reading habits, right? When I need words but my powers of concentration are low, I read poetry. When I feel the need to wrap up in creativity like a blanket, I find a long fantasy or sci-fi series and immerse myself in another world for a thousand pages or so. I ran across The Powder Mage trilogy when I was in the latter state, and it served its purpose. I love intense fantasy worlds with complicated magic systems, sneaky politics, and bad-ass characters. Powder Mage delivers all of these in the form of militarized wizards who literally eat gunpowder to make battle magic, a bloody royal coup, and a father-son hero duo with a complicated relationship. There’s also regular sorcerers, warring social factions, rival nations and crazy gods in mufti to contend with, making for a pretty entertaining read.


Typically fantasy worlds are in a state of permanent medieval times, but Powder Mage is unique. Guns and magic coexist, and the conflicts between the different types of magic form the basis of the plot conflicts. I can honestly say this is some of the most original world building I’ve come across, and I like the term that’s been coined for it–flintlock fantasy.

That said, Powder Mage is also some of the most exhausting storytelling currently in print. I don’t think I’ve ever read such an action-packed series before, and it’s not always a good thing. Every single chapter has at least one knock-down, drag-out, curb stomp battle and our heroes spend most of their time covered in blood, potentially disabled, captured by torturers or struggling to think past some wound or other. The action scenes are very well-written and all three of these books are an adrenaline high. The problem is, it’s constant. The emotional impact of all these high stakes battles and the often over-simplistic plotting that accompanies them wears off around the middle of the second book. I became far too desensitized to be invested in some of the bigger plot twists or to care much about the constant pain and suffering of the characters. The fact that the relationships between characters all seemed a little distant and cold–we are told people are close, but rarely shown it–also didn’t help me invest in their pain very much. Our father-son duo, Tamas and Taniel, have perhaps two pages of conversation across the whole trilogy–all they seem to do is fight, give orders, bleed, then fight again. (Don’t even get me started on Taniel’s childlike, non-speaking magic lady bodyguard and eventual love interest.) The most fully realized and therefore most enjoyable character is the low level(aka Knacked) magic user and detective Adamat–but even his connections to family, co-conspirators, and even his own talents are used, abused, and finally handwaved in annoying ways to wrap up the plot quickly.

I’m sure by this point someone is saying, “But it’s an action series and military and I bet you don’t like military and action because GIRL!” *grunt* Not quite. I like well-realized speculative military series. The Black Company and a half-dozen of the endless novels set in The Polity come to mind. I’m not saying that the Powder Mage series isn’t well-realized, I’m just saying that I’ve read both better and worse. I will say that I may have made a mistake reading all three novels in one go–maybe if I’d read them separately I’d feel a little less stressed by the onslaught of constant country hopping and catastrophic violence. (FYI, the three books in the series, in order, are Promise of Blood, The Crimson Campaign, and The Autumn Republic.)

I liked the series, but I didn’t love it. It was an entertaining, fully realized fantasy world, but I’m in no hurry to read the follow-up series or any of the in-universe novellas(although you can find them all here, if you’re so inclined).

3 stars and a triage unit to The Powder Mage trilogy.

(Beautiful people! I feel like I’m damning this one with faint praise but it was really just okay to me. If you want to take a chance anyway, find it and other fun fantasy novels in the Equal Opportunity Bookshop. If you make any clicks and purchases, a commission may be paid. Peace!)

Last Week In Books: Say “Dr. Seuss” ONE MORE TIME. I Dare You!

Guess what I’m tired of talking about, but seems to have taken over the internet anyway? This week I could easily have written a book called “Oh, The Annoyance You’ll Feel!” but there are still some important things being done in these conversations so I can’t be outright mad at it. Anyway…

*sigh*

*sigh* If any of you know any of those people, do us all a favor and send them the link to this site, please? Also, comic books are books. Fight me.

March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, or so they say. This March comes in with all kinds of diverse book news, so as usual, here’s your recap:

  • My literary friends at Spill Stories are finally publishing their long awaited follow up to Black In Asia. This time they’re giving us an anthology of stories, appropriately titled Sex and Power, all about sexuality and power from the primary perspectives of women of color. I’ve already gotten my copy, what are y’all waiting for? [via SpillStories]
  • My involvement in a previous Spill anthology and my own forays into self-publishing are just two of the half-dozen reasons why I refuse to condemn Amazon outright. However, I have been concerned about the way the corporation treats workers for some time and I will be supporting the boycott this week in solidarity with Amazon warehouse workers who are working to unionize. No online order and no Prime streaming for one week, to support fairer working conditions. Are you in? [via UComm Blog]
  • Speaking of politics…can we all just shut up about Dr. Seuss? Please? Has anybody even read McElligott’s Pool? I promise ain’t nobody cancelling The Cat In The Hat. Let it gooooo. [via Washington Post]

[via Dr. Seuss Enterprises]

Moving on…

  • Biden inaugaral poet Amanda Gorman was profiled and followed to her home by a security guard for being while Black. I want to say I’m surprised, but–is anyone, really? Gorman is a woman of impeccable presence and does not deserve such suspicion–but then, none of us do, right? Let’s all just hope this drives sales of her upcoming poetry book even higher. [via The Grio]
  • I am admittedly quite bad at sharing Latinx literary news, so much so that I still use the term “Latinx” even after a Panamanian cousin got in touch to scoldingly inform me that no Spanish-speaking Latino on earth actually uses that term so I should knock it off. It’s a blind spot, I admit, but writers like Crystal Maldonado are making it very easy for me to unlearn with charming books like Fat Chance, Charlie Vega. [via People en Español]
  • Last link for today and perhaps my favorite: The American Archive of Public Broadcasting has uploaded a treasure trove of Black American historical material, including lots of interviews and conversations with literary greats like James Baldwin, Maya Angelou, and the TV program Black Journal, which highlighted Black journalists during the 1970s. Check it out here. [via HyperAllergic]

Peace, beautiful people. Enjoy the beginnings of spring and be sure to read something good under a tree surrounded by flowers, if you can.

(As always, this is where I remind you that to keep this blog minty fresh, Equal Opportunity Reader has affiliate relationships with sites like Bookshop and any clicks/purchases may result in a commission being paid. )

[REVIEW] The Gatekeeper’s Staff(TJ Young And The Orishas Book 1), by Antoine Bandele

(Find it HERE.)

I LOVED THIS. Before I get into the review, let me just say–if you know a pre-teen boy who loves magic and adventure, get him this book. If he’s Black, get him two copies. This is the first book I’ve read in 2021 that made me want to clap and cheer and read portions of it out loud to other people and I can’t recommend it highly enough. ⠀⠀

That said, this owes a LOT to Harry Potter and Percy Jackson. Bandele wears these influences proudly on his sleeve but adds enough freshness in the form of kid-fantasy-friendly Yoruba spirituality references and heaps of global Black culture moments that I didn’t mind all of the obvious similarities.⠀⠀

So, here’s the story: 14-year old TJ Young lives in LA with his dad (a regular brotha from the hood) and his mom (a Nigerian immigrant & the most powerful Yoruba water sorceress of modern times). His brother Tunde and sister Dayo are both supernaturally talented but TJ seems to take after his dad as one of the ‘clouded’–practically unmagical.⠀ ⠀

Then Dayo dies in a mysterious accident while working in Nigeria and things begin to change for TJ, culminating in a summer trip to Camp Olosa, a place for troubled Yoruba spellcasters deep in the Louisiana bayou. With the help of his new friends — country boy Josh, and New York Afro-Latina Manny — TJ finds himself on a mission that brings him face to face with the gods themselves. ⠀⠀

Did I already say I loved this? Because I did. I loved the storyline and all the ways it plays with the now-familiar “magic school” tropes. I loved how the story featured Black people and cultures from all over the diaspora, connected by very tangible West African history and spirituality. I loved the portrayal of the Orisha, Yoruba spiritual beings with powerful abilities but very human-like foibles. I loved TJ, a genuinely kind, caring kid with close connections to his family. I even loved that the cafeteria at Camp Olosa serves cornbread and gumbo.⠀ But most of all I loved that this was fun, culturally layered, and full of adventure. I had a blast reading this and I want the second book NOW (but alas, we’ll have to wait…this one won’t even be officially released until Juneteenth).⠀⠀

5 stars and a little bit of my Ashe to The Gatekeeper’s Staff. ⠀⠀

Kind thanks to Antoine Bandele for an advance ARC of this. *crackhead scratch* So, uh, when can I get the next installment? You got anymore of them plot twists?

(Beautiful people, this is the first book of 2021 that I can 100% unreservedly recommend buying. If you want to do that,it’s here, and there’s plenty more diverse reads for diverse readers in the Equal Opportunity Bookshop. Just know that if you click and purchase anything from this site, a commission will be earned. It helps keep the site clean and lit.)

[REVIEW] Engine Empire, by Cathy Park Hong

(Find it HERE.)

The bleached ruin of light lasts and lasts, no night/to repair our miinds, no white clip moon to give us rest. / Only pitiless noon where our sleep-starved consciousness/patters faintly behind our squinted eyelids. ~ Ballad of Tombstone Omaha

Have you ever read something and not been exactly sure if it was way over your head or just absolute chaos? Because that’s how I felt reading this poetry triptych by Korean-American poet Cathy Park Hong, the vaunted author of Asian-American race relations treatise Minor Feelings. ⠀

There are some very evocative images and turns of phrase in these poems, which take us through three interconnected yet very different settings. Through the poet’s words we visit the lawless squalor of the American Wild West, the busy loneliness of modern day Shenzen, and a pale, remote far future, all boomtowns of their time. (The first section, about the gold rush West, was my favorite–for the imagery and cohesiveness as well as the sheer ugly shock of how it ends.) These places are sketched out with surprising amounts of detail and the poet has a flair for clever forms and theming that kept my eye interested in the pages while my brain was busy trying to keep up. I like poetry that tells stories, and the verses in this book definitely do that, wrapping them around very timely, pessimistic themes. It’s a vague, wild story that skitters all over the room before hopping in your literary lap and howling angrily, but it’s there. ⠀


Still, on the last page I couldn’t shake the feeling of WTF did I just read? I’m very picky about poetry and I’m admittedly on the denser side of poetry readers. Still, this collection feels like a chaos theory thesis in verse. If you flap the pages of the book too hard in Central Park on a Tuesday it might cause typhoons–it’s that chaotic. 😂 I feel like I get where the poet was trying to go with all of this–I’m just not sure if she got there without blowing out a tire and hitting a couple of potholes.⠀
⠀
Okay, enough of my bad metaphors. I didn’t dislike this collection–there’s something mind-expanding about its harsh weirdness and evocative language. But I didn’t love it either. A true 3-star rating and a “girl are you okay now after letting all that out?” to Cathy Park Hong’s Engine Empire.

(Hey beautiful people. Happy March. This is where I tell you that this blog has affiliate relationships with lovely sites like Bookshop, and if you click and purchase anything from a link here, a commission may be earned. It’s also where I tell you that if you read this poetry collection and need a hug afterwards, I’ll be happy to give you one.)

Reading Kids, TV Railroads, and the Cancellation of Dr. Seuss: Last Week in Books, February 21st -27th

The titles of these get more and more fun to write every week.

  • First, some good news: a 10 year old boy named Joziah Jason in Ypsilanti, Michigan has started a podcast bookclub for his fellow elementary school students. I listened to one episode and it’s equal parts inspiring and adorable. Check it out for yourself. [via MLive]
  • Perhaps Joziah might find this interesting; African-Futurist writer Nnedi Okorafor has written a female Nigerian version of Marvel’s Venom into the latest run of Black Panther. [via Bleeding Cool]
  • Across the pond, Black British writers are confronting stereotypes and embracing culture in the anthology Loud Black Girls. The opening quote? “Black women will always be too loud for a world that never intended on listening to them.” Preach. [via Black Girl Nerds]
  • Another exciting book release is Viet Thanh Nguyen’s long-awaited follow-up to The Sympathizer, The Committed. Junot Diaz’s review(he’s back!) says it “draws its true enchantment — and its immense power — from the propulsive, wide-ranging intelligence of our narrator as he Virgils us through his latest descent into hell. That he happens to be as funny as he is smart is the best plus of all.” Can’t wait! [via The New York Times]

From here, let’s talk about a few upcoming film and tv adaptations, shall we?

  • Walter Mosley’s series about hard-boiled Black detective Easy Rawlins is getting a retry as a television series via Amblin Television. While Denzel Washington was a fantastic Easy on the big screen in 1995, there are a whole host of young actors coming up with the chops to do him justice again. Looking forward to this one. [via Variety]
  • On the other hand, I really didn’t care for Colson Whitehead’s novel The Underground Railroad, award-winning or not. However, the upcoming series adaptation is getting a lot of positive buzz and the trailer is interesting. I’ll give it a look to see if the overarching concept translates well to film. Plus, Barry Jenkins is directing and he can do very little wrong so…[via Rolling Stone]

There’s a few older articles making the social media rounds lately that I think are worth re-highlighting this week as well.

  • One is about Celeste Ng, literary fiction writer responsible for the very popular Little Fires Everywhere and her apparent distaste for Asian men. While I personally can’t pinpoint why this has become a hot topic again and I have no stake or deep knowledge of the issues the article raises, I find it an interesting example of how literature, and those who create it shed light on deeper cultural issues in ways that they don’t often expect. I’m sure there’s some deep literary theory that expresses the sentiment, but for us laypeople, all this says is that while I’ve never read a book by Ng, the fact that she wrote those books has given her a big enough impact on culture that I never really need to. [via Plan A Magazine]
  • The other is about classic children’s author Dr. Seuss. School districts have been sensibly phasing out his work in light of revelations about his racist past and caricature work and the response has been rather shrill. This article on NPR is from 2019, but still gives the best overview of the problem and potential approaches and solutions in our developing anti-racist world. [via NPR]

That’s that for diverse bookish news this week, beautiful people. March is coming–read something good!

(As always, thanks for reading, beautiful people. You know the drill: here is where I tell you that this blog has affiliate relationships with lovely sites such as Bookshop and if you click and make a purchase at any link you find on these pages, a commission might be earned. It helps us keep the virtual lights on, so thanks in advance. Peace!)

[BOOKLIST] Earth Is Ghetto: A Booklist Where Aliens Land Everywhere

 “Earth is ghetto / I want to leave / Can you beam me up / I’m out on the street by the corner store / You know the one on 15th…“

I’m sure many of you have heard the viral song by Aliah Sheffield by now–it’s the toast of TikTok. If not, take a moment and listen below.

Much has been made of what the song says about the current state of humanity, the planet we live on, ghettos, corner stores and aliens. In light of the global garbage fire that was 2020 (and everything leading up to it), the joke’s not new, but there’s something particularly poignant about Sheffield’s delivery that I think we can all appreciate.

However, when I first heard it, I thought of alien invasion stories, and why you almost never see aliens land in the ghetto. Aliens almost never land on reservations, near prisons, next to slums, or basically anywhere other than heavily gentrified big cities where white ex-Marines or plucky white single parents or mysteriously disgraced (and usually white) scientists live.

I’ve mentioned before that I go through odd reading phases, and one I often come back to is global alien invasions. I’m particularly interested in tales of aliens landing on islands with tourist economies, in favelas, in remote rural spaces, in Asian superpowers, and so on. There’s something that hits different about alien invasion told through the lens of a culture that has experienced real invasion, colonization, genocide and oppression–something deeper and grittier, that realizes you can’t shoot your way out of everything but you can get a bit of your own back in other ways. The following books all show some of that grit, and in one case, the intergalactic consequences of being the instrument of oppression.

As usual: Not an expert. Just a reader. Be nice. Read well. Find the whole list with extras HERE.

The Lesson, by Cadwell Turnbull

Some books take a while to really grow on me, and this story of aliens making first contact in the US Virgin Islands is one of them. The best alien invasion stories contain parallels to real human migration and uncertainties about diversity. Turnbull excels at using the backdrop of a Caribbean island with a colonial past to illustrate the continuing pain of historical oppression, embodied by the alien Ynaa. It’s a remarkably culturally literate book with a lot of layers and a genuinely frightening climax. Find it HERE.

Rosewater, by Tade Thompson

This first contact story is set in rural Nigeria, written by a British-born Nigerian who used to be a psychiatrist. It’s a tense, spare book that really keeps you guessing–at times it’s more of a thriller than sci-fi. I honestly don’t know enough about Nigeria to say that something belongs authentically to it, and that sort of statement is reductive anyway. I will say that I enormously enjoyed the idea of aliens interacting more or less peacefully with an African economy and government instead of immediately initiating shootouts and abductions. The conflict naturally comes from the Earthlings. This is the first in a trilogy, and the only one I’ve read so far. Find it HERE.

The Three-Body Problem, by Cixin Liu, translated by Ken Liu (no relation)

I debated including this because the author is developing a reputation for political asshattery. However, I just could not stop talking about this book when I first read it, and it has an important twist that I think deserves to be included here. It’s one of the most intellectually fascinating sci-fi novels I’ve ever read. Basically, a genius imprisoned during the Chinese Cultural Revolution accidentally makes first contact with a murderous alien society light years away, learns about their history and culture, and hides it from everyone. Years later, others discover the threats the aliens have sent and all of Earth scrambles to prepare for an invasion hundreds of years in the future. The book is centered in China, of course, with a few token Westerners hanging around, and even though you never really meet the aliens in question, their history is boggling and their messages terrifying. There’s an interesting undercurrent in the book regarding what happens when a superpower gets outclassed due to its own authoritarian shenanigans. This is another trilogy I’ve only read the first installment of–find it HERE.

Take Us To Your Chief And Other Stories by Drew Hayden Taylor

Only two of the stories in this tonally diverse First Nations sci-fi collection are about alien invasions, but all of them are brilliant regardless of subject. The ones about aliens are wildly different from each other–one is terrifying, the other hilarious–but they both are about indigenous communities facing invasion in pretty culturally apt ways–after all, what could be worse than Europeans? Whether aliens come to rescue or destroy, Indigenous people are arguably the only demographic who already have experience in the matter. The stories in this book all have a Golden Age charm to them and it’s well worth checking them all out. Find it HERE.

Inish Carraig, by Jo Zebedee

This is admittedly an odd choice, made odder still by the fact that I haven’t read this one yet. Apparently in this book aliens have already invaded and subjugated Ireland and the story revolves around an unintentioinal freedom fighter who’s been caught and sent to a notorious prison for Earthlings, where he discovers something terrible. I have no idea what he discovers or what happens in the book but something about an alien invasion in Belfast with potential analogs to Partition intrigues me. I haven’t read it yet but I hope to soon. Find it HERE.

While I’m of the opinion that if aliens do exist they avoid humans, I still enjoy imaginings of how they would fare if they landed in different parts of Earth, especially when those parts are culturally rich and have a history of other types of invasion. There’s more books on the theme of course, and you can find them all HERE on the full list. Peace!

(As always, I need to remind you that this blog has affiliate relationships with Bookshop and any clicks/purchases made may result in a commission being earned.)