Book
Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlansky

Synopsis
The history of “the only rock we eat,” and how finding, producing, and transporting it has shaped economies and governments from pre-history to the modern day.

Pros
Extremely well-organized, with short chapters presented in chronological order describing how a particular region and a particular group of people were affected by salt during that time. Keeps the subject interesting by using personal stories wherever possible. Exhaustively researched, throwing together travelogues, personal accounts, recipes, and descriptions of scientific breakthroughs and production techniques, along with the geography and descriptions of economics, governments and trade routes you’d expect from a history book.

Satisfied my trivia requirement in the first few chapters — e.g. the words “soldier,” “salary,” and calling the Celts “Gauls” all derived from words for salt. Answered a question I’ve been wondering for years, but was always too lazy to look up: what are those weird geometric pink and brown pools in the south San Francisco Bay? (They’re salt ponds). Manages to follow tangents like the development of tabasco and the creation of Israeli resorts on the Dead Sea, without straying too far from the main story.

Cons
It’s still a book about salt. The book spends so much time talking about salted cod and Basque salt producers, that you can’t help but feel like the author cribbed a lot of the material from his earlier books. Reading the book kept making me crave weird food and games of Civilization. The subject inspires a ton of terrible cliches and puns in book reviews.

Verdict
The highest compliment I can give to any documentary or history work is that it reminds me of James Burke’s Connections series. Despite the quote from Anthony Bourdain on its cover, Salt is more than just a food history book; it really does feel like an extended episode of Connections with a fixation on one particular topic. You get a real sense of the epic history of salt, and you can understand how something that is now so common could have once been scarce enough to influence the outcome of wars and the success of entire civilizations.

Book
The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis

Synopsis
A collection of letters sent from the demon Screwtape to his nephew Wormwood, advising the younger demon on the best ways to tempt a human soul away from Christianity to become food for Hell.

Pros
Brilliant concept, with a ton of potential for satire. Has one moment where Lewis really takes advantage of the concept, and the effect is both darkly comic and shocking. Several passages have real insight into the human condition, in particular our capacity for self delusion, and our pointless fixation on novelty. Gives a good description of how The Seven Virtues interrelate, and how easily and subtly they can be corrupted into one of the Seven Deadly Sins.

And despite its fantastic concept, it ultimately conveys a very mature and modern conception of corruption and Hell: not just as a cataclysmic turn to evil, but as the gradual and almost imperceptible decay of the soul. Where the final punishment isn’t just torment, but being cut off from light, robbed of potential, and ultimately consumed.

Cons
Doesn’t really work as satire, since it’s clearly Lewis’ voice throughout — the end result doesn’t feel like an author inhabiting an evil character, but just as if he’d taken Mere Christianity and done a simple search-and-replace and negated most of the verbs. As a result, you don’t get a real sense of what Lewis is saying for much of it; you’re too preoccupied trying to do multiple reverse-translations in your head to get at the real message.

Has the same worldview as Mere Christianity: that of the conservative, white man living in the UK during World War II. Constantly takes a dismissive view of women, overvalues patriotism and automatically equates it with “courage,” and is repeatedly scornful of non-traditional values or really anything “modern.” (With frequent warnings that his views will be dismissed as “puritanical” or prudish, which come across more as being defensive than genuinely self-aware).

An additional piece, “Screwtape Proposes a Toast,” is included with this edition of the book. It was written long after the letters, it has its own introduction by Lewis, and it’s just awful. While the Letters read like the work of a clever and imaginative man who’s got genuine, universal insight combined with some quaintly outdated values, the last section just reads like an embittered crank writing a letter to the editor of the local paper. It’s a conservative, almost libertarian, political rant disguised as having spiritual relevance.

Verdict
I’d thought that this would be a companion for Mere Christianity, but it turned out to be more a rewording of that book, with more specific examples. It’s more imaginative and clever than Mere Christianity, but also more difficult to read because of its attempt to be “satire.” And it’s a shame that “Screwtape Proposes a Toast” is included, because it leaves you with a negative impression of the whole book.

Book
Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis

Synopsis
Originally presented as a series of lectures on BBC Radio during World War II, this book is Lewis’s attempt to describe and defend the fundamental beliefs of Christianity, regardless of any particular church or denomination. It’s presented from the perspective of a former atheist who converted to Christianity, speaking as a layman instead of a theologist, and using informal and conversational language throughout.

Pros
Sees science and intellect as supplements to religious belief, not opponents of it. Describes the path from atheism to Christianity as a philosophical and ethical question, not as one of dogma or simply faith. Provides contemporary (for the 1940s) examples of the Seven Virtues and other ideals, instead of just quoting parables or passages from scripture. Encourages the reader to reject parts of the book if they don’t provide any illumination for him. Gives the clearest explanation of the Trinity that I’ve ever heard; for the first time, I feel like I understand the concept.

Cons
Although the book is marketed as “timeless,” it is very much the product of a man born in the United Kingdom at the turn of the 20th century and coming of age during WWI. His views on patriotism and war, feminism, sexuality, homosexuality, race relations, and non-Christian belief systems are almost comically dated and so conservative as to be offensive. (For example: men should be in charge of the household, because somebody’s got to be in charge, and women don’t have the temperament for it).

Although he doesn’t use the word “faith” when describing the transition from atheism to theism, his arguments still frequently reduce to faith. His position is logical but not airtight, and at some points he still ends up in a circular or empty argument: God must exist because otherwise we wouldn’t want Him to exist; and Jesus must be the son of God because He said He was, and only a lunatic would claim that if he weren’t.

And although Lewis describes himself as a former atheist, he really comes across as a formerly lapsed Christian. When he refers to his old beliefs, they sound like a man raised Christian who’s had a crisis of faith, but is struggling to believe again. As a result, the book doesn’t seem to offer much to “modern” atheists (those not brought up in a religious household), or people of non-Christian beliefs. He’s very dismissive of atheism and other religions, calling them “childish” or “simple” when he deigns to mention them at all.

And he has an irritating tendency to trivialize the Nazis, lumping them in with nuisances like the guy who steals your seat on the bus.

Verdict
The book is conversational and for the most part pleasant to read; even the “offensive” bits aren’t anywhere near as spiteful and judgmental as modern-day evangelists tend to be, but more a jarring reminder of when and where the book was written. But I can’t really see who would benefit from it apart from people who are already Christians and have never truly tested their faith, or Christians who are having a crisis of faith and want to get back into the fold. Non-Christians will likely be turned off in the early chapters. As it was, I started out the book mostly on Lewis’s side, and I still objected to it more often than I agreed with it.

Book
Baltimore, or, The Steadfast Tin Soldier and the Vampire by Mike Mignola & Christopher Golden

Synopsis
On a battlefield late in World War I, allied soldier Lord Baltimore is attacked by a strange bat-like creature. Now, the war is over, but a mysterious plague has spread through all of Europe. Three of Baltimore’s friends are summoned to a tavern in a dying city, swapping stories of their own encounters with the supernatural while they wait for his arrival and an explanation of what’s causing the plague (spoiler: it’s vampires).

Pros
Inspired combination of Lovecraftian apocalyptic dread, old folk tales, The Steadfast Tin Soldier, and even Blade, which feels like it’s creating a new mythology from its disparate sources. Mignola’s illustrations are perfectly chosen and placed throughout the book, conveying a sense of portent and doom as well in prose as they do in his Hellboy comics. Uses the antiquated story-within-a-story-within-a-story structure to set the time period and mood, but still manages to incorporate a killer fight scene. Makes vampires scary again: tells a vampire story without gimmicks or attempts to make them unnecessarily contemporary.

Cons
Because it’s literally humorless, it feels like a Hellboy story arc with a layer stripped away; there’s the action, and the sense of dread, and the exhaustively-researched set of source material, but nothing to ground it or make it feel “real.” Some passages suffer from overly affected writing. Despite being short and full of illustrations, it still feels ponderous and self-important.

Verdict
A deliberately old-school vampire story that manages to be genuinely scary (and gave me several nights of weird nightmares). But I doubt I would’ve been interested were I not already a fan of Hellboy — it’s got all the same components as a Hellboy story arc told in prose, but without that spark of humor that makes it come alive.

Book
Jingo by Terry Pratchett

In a series
21st in the series of Discworld books.

Synopsis
The lost island of Leshp suddenly rises in the middle of the ocean, sparking a war between the nations of Ankh-Morpork and Klatch over ownership of the new land. Sam Vimes and the rest of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch get pulled into the war via a murder mystery surrounding the Klatchian Prince.

Pros
It’s a Discworld book: clever, funny, cynical-but-lighthearted, and astoundingly readable and entertaining, while still having enough “meat” in its social commentary and satire that it doesn’t feel like empty, disposable entertainment.

Cons
The Discworld books are so consistently entertaining, it feels like cheating to include one in a New Year’s resolution list. Has occasional, brief passages that suffer from the Impenetrable Wall of Cleverness syndrome: where the story gets pushed to the background in favor of an extended gag or pun. Very much a middle book in the series; gives enough introduction to the characters so you can follow what’s going on, but leaves it to the other books to establish their depth.

Verdict
Terry Pratchett is simply one of the best living writers, and it’s a shame that the Discworld books’ origins as fantasy parodies keeps them just shy of being recognized as “Great Literature.” Jingo would be a bad choice for your first Discworld book (I’d recommend either Mort, Small Gods, or my favorite, Night Watch), but it’s a very solid entry in the series.

Edit: I forgot to mention my favorite thing about this book. Instead of just relying on the valid but obvious statement “racism, prejudice, and jingoism are bad,” Pratchett is careful to show both sides of the brewing war, and makes a profound statement about our potential to over-compensate. We can get so locked into the idea of “Them” as innocent victims of the failings of “Us,” that we forget that “They” have just as much capacity for both evil and goodness as “We” do. No matter how well-intentioned it may be, seeing any group of people as nothing more than “the good guys” or “the victims” does as much to rob them of their humanity as overt racism does.

Book
Old Man’s War by John Scalzi

Recommended by
Wil Wheaton, plus dozens of commenters on half the blogs I read (including John Scalzi’s own blog).

Disclaimer
I have read very little science fiction (Douglas Adams and Star Wars novelizations don’t count). I’ve read none of Robert Heinlein, who is mentioned in almost every review of this book, and in the author’s own acknowledgements. So I might be missing out on a lot of context, homage, invention, deconstruction and/or re-invention here.

Synopsis
Humanity has begun colonizing planets outside our solar system, but the technology to do so is kept under tight control by the Colonial Defense Force. Anyone at the age of 75 can enlist in the CDF, where he’ll be restored to fighting condition and given a chance at a second life, in return for a few years of service in a war that no one on Earth knows anything about.

Highs
Clear, straightforward writing throughout; the book reads less like hard science fiction and more like a series of well-written blog posts from the future. Various “hard” science fiction concepts are introduced and quickly given a rational, plausible explanation. Good pacing, where the next key moment is always just over the horizon, and you want to keep reading past the chapter breaks.

Lows
The book reads less like science fiction and more like a series of blog posts. The “and then that happened” style and the quick explanations of concepts do keep the book straightforward, but also rob it of any real suspense or sense of wonder. Has frequent passages of Michael Crichton-esque exposition, where a squad of people from each relevant school of expertise happens to be on-hand to give a short speech explaining the next topic. Frequently feels like fan fiction, where the author hasn’t created characters so much as inserted himself and people he knows into the book; anyone with any real distinguishable personality becomes a “villain” of sorts, and is quickly dealt with.

Verdict
Does exactly what (I imagine) it sets out to do: tell a military science fiction story that’s rational, plausible, personal, relatable, and above all, readable. It’s opinionated without being overbearing, light without being silly, intelligent without being tedious, and understandable without being too condescending. Unfortunately, it’s also engaging without being fascinating. I can imagine it’d be welcome to science fiction fans who’ve been overrun with fantastic space operas and ponderous analyses of theoretical physics, and want something in the middle. I’m not a big fan of the genre, and I was ultimately underwhelmed by this book, but I can still see myself giving the other two books in the series a try.

Book
The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Selling Points
Oprah liked it! (And it won a Pulitzer Prize, too.) But look! Oprah!

Disclaimer
I tried to be open-minded and objective while I was reading this book, but I was definitely prejudiced against it from the start, because of all the hype and because of how much I disliked the No Country for Old Men movie. Also, I don’t like post-apocalyptic stories in general.

Synopsis
Ash cold gray ashes the man the boy dark scared okay fire. Repeat for 300 pages.

Highs
Quick and pretty easy to read. Excellent pacing, conveying long stretches of unchanging tedium punctuated by unexpected terror. Dialogue between the boy and his father seems genuine. Aggressively literate, with occasional descriptions that are surprisingly vivid. Subtly flows between gray reality and the dreams and memories of the main character using stylistic changes from terse and straightforward to nightmarish and verbose.

Lows
By “verbose” I mean it’s often self-consciously over-written. Sometimes feels sabotaged by passages of vapid nihilism, or a wordy but empty description. As a result, it often feels like someone writing with a thesaurus open, as if the author didn’t trust his honest, genuine message not to come across as trite or maudlin unless it were padded with “edge” or “literary merit.” As much as I liked the book’s ending, it was like a stunt pilot pulling out of a 270-page nose dive right before the moment of impact. I still can’t tell if the sections that struck me as pointlessly cynical were momentary lapses of the narrator’s character, or if they’re the author’s genuine attempts to make a point.

Verdict
Ultimately a masterfully written, honest story of fatherhood and allegory about morality. It creates a powerful image of “goodness” as a force that simply exists — independent of religion, society, privilege, or even sustenance — and survives, despite any attempts to extinguish it. I just wish it didn’t keep making me think, “So this is what it would be like if Larry McMurtry had grown up as a goth kid.”

I’m not including comic books in my meager 26-book challenge for the year — not because they’re not art or they’re not as worthy, but simply because I already read 26 comic books a year. But I still like spouting off my opinions about things, so they’ll go into the exhibition rounds.

Book
Fox Bunny Funny by Andy Hartzell

Selling Points
Indie comic! Cartoon animals! No words!

Apparent Audience
Illiterate LGBT people.

Actual Audience
Everyone.

Synopsis
The world is rigidly divided into foxes, the oppressors; and bunnies, the victims. This book tells the first half of the life story of a fox who empathizes a little too much with the bunnies.

Disclaimer
I am 100% genuinely and sincerely behind the idea of indie comics. Being a bad artist myself, I’m envious of and impressed by the people who aren’t. When someone can take his artistic talent and expand it into a full story, that’s even more impressive. Having the courage to make it personal and meaningful is even more impressive than that.

All that said, 99% of indie comics just leave me cold. I’m just too much of a cynic to remember the beauty of personal expression, when they so often are nothing more than variations on the theme of “life is hard for me because I’m different.” They never seem to appreciate that life is hard for everyone, because everyone is different, and the paradox that feeling alienated is the one thing everyone has in common.

Highs
The book takes what could’ve been another trite, self-absorbed “journey of self-discovery,” or passive-aggressive complaint about being excluded, and instead shows the universality of alienation and societal oppression. The lack of words and the use of cartoon animals avoids making the theme too narrow in focus — the characters become symbols, the scenes become reminders of events we’ve all experienced.

And it’s much deeper than its title or a first glance at the characters suggests, but also much much lighter, darkly humorous, and more accessible than you’d think from reading reviews that mention symbolism and allegory and sociopolitical commentary. The pacing is inspired, the characters’ expressions are perfect, and there are clever design touches throughout, ranging in subtlety from obvious jokes and funny-animal parody to something as simple as the use of negative and positive space. There’s an attention to detail and world-building that goes all the way to developing what seems like a passive-aggressive religion for the bunnies, where their victimization in this world is rewarded with dominance in the next.

Lows
Occasional lapses in the universality of it, where it’s too easy to just say that it’s an allegory for growing up gay. Which is a shame, because the potential audience for the book is so much wider than that, and there’s a lot in it that invites all kinds of different interpretations. The entire last chapter is extremely interesting visually, but also seems to lose direction somewhat — I’ve got my own interpretation of what the book is saying, but I don’t feel extremely confident that what I’m seeing is what’s really there. And the very end of the book struck me as being sincere and genuine, but also a little trite, when compared to what precedes it.

Verdict
More wisdom and insight than I’d ever have expected from a comic book like this, told with confidence, sincerity, and good humor. It’d be an outstanding book even if the art weren’t excellent.