Mid-Month Reading Wrap Up: September

 I regret to say that I have not yet read any of my own books this month, although I have one in progress. I always say that I'm going to focus on the many, many books I own and that I really, really want to read, but then I'm tempted by something I read and I'm off to the library website or I see something on NetGalley and, since I have no willpower, I end up with unexpected books. Ah well, that's OK. Excellent books are everywhere and I only regret that I will never be able to read all the ones I want to. But I can read some of them and here are the titles I spent time with during the first half of September.

Hauntings: Fantastic Stories by Vernon Lee (read on the Serial Reader app)

Originally published in 1890, this is a unique collection of ghost stories, some of which are set in Italy and at least one in the UK. It was an enjoyable read, especially because I consumed it in small doses, a little bit each day.

The Haunting Season: Ghostly Tales for Long Winter Nights by various authors (borrowed from the library)

A couple of years ago, I read and reviewed the sequel to this book, called The Winter Spirits. I loved it. At the time, I don't think I knew that there had been a volume before that book, so when I found out, I requested it from the library. It was excellent. I sat down on an autumnal day with the wind howling and the rain lashing down and read it from start to finish. Delightful. The stories are by contemporary authors. There were some I liked more than others, as is typical of any short story collection. There were 2 years between the publication of this book and that of Winter Spirits two years ago. I'm waiting to see if there will be a third volume soon. If there is, I'll read it.

The Collected Poems by Wendy Cope (borrowed from the library)

This is a collection of all the published poems of Wendy Cope along with previously uncollected poems. It's a wonderful collection which I loved. I read it a bit at a time and felt heartache, joy, hope, and empathy as I read her varied and highly accessible work. Sometimes, I laughed. This poem struck me as funny, but also alarming. She's writing about individuals, but the overarching issue of reality and delusion has serious societal impact.

American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins (borrowed from the library)

I was in the library one day when I learned that there's a book group that meets there. One of the librarians got in touch with the person who organizes and facilitates the group to ask if there was room for one more. There was. This was the book the group read this month. I'd heard of it and the controversy surrounding it, but had never read it. Bill was interested, so he read it first  and thought it was great. I waited until a few days before the meeting. I thought it was good, but heartbreaking to know how much worse things have gotten since the publication of the book. Most of the group thought it was good--slightly above average--but a couple thought it was excellent and one didn't finish it.

The book starts in a bathroom, with a bullet whizzing by the head of Luca, an eight-year-old boy. His mother, Lydia, hustles him into his grandmother's shower so they could hide behind the partial wall. They listen as the gunmen talk amongst themselves, eat some barbecue, and as one of them takes a piss just a few feet away from them. When it's 'safe' to venture back out into Luca's grandmother's back garden, they find everyone, gathered there for a cousin's 15th birthday celebration, killed. Luca's father, a journalist, has a sign on himself that says, 'I got my entire family killed.' He'd written a story exposing the identity of the big boss of the cartel that had been terrorizing the area. There's more to the backstory, which is a bit more involved than 'I was outed and I'm mad so I'm ordering the hit' but I don't want to give anything away, so I'll say no more about that here. Of course, Lydia knows there's a target on her back and Luca's, so she realizes they have to leave. The book is primarily about their run for the border--how they proceed, who they meet, what happens to them and others. It also goes back in time to explain how things unfolded. Lydia thinks about the bookshop she owned and her life with her husband. It's definitely a page-turner. I can't say it was an enjoyable read because I know that people are going through all these things still and it's even worse than it was. It is well-written and although much of the criticism of the book seemed to be about the author not having a right to write such characters, I think it's important to tell these stories. And telling them this way will reach more people than a dry report full of statistics would. Unfortunately, too many people believe outlandish stories about people who risk or give up their lives trying to get to places they feel are safe. It's not like people wake up one day and decide to undertake these hellish journeys just because they feel like it. Anyway, although the book is very dark throughout, there are moments of humor, kindness, hope, and love that keep the reader from falling into total despair. To be honest though, I wouldn't have read it if not for the book group. I can't say I wish I hadn't read it, but it's not one I would have chosen. As someone said to me after the meeting, one thing she likes about the group is that it gets her to read books she wouldn't otherwise.

Soon to be published books I've read so far this month are:

Marginality: Solidarity and the Fight for Social Change by Jin Y. Park (to be published by Columbia University Press on November 18, 2025)

In this excellent thought-provoking book, Korean-American philosopher Jin Y. Park is examining the meaning and value of the margins. She points out that everyone is on the margins at some point in their lives at one time or another. She's also taking a different approach to philosophy than is usual in Western academic settings, drawing as she does on Asian philosophies and literature. She describes the work of Korean philosopher Pak Ch'iu, who argued that philosophy is practice, both grounded in theory, but directed at a goal. Park makes the distinction between public philosophy and academic philosophy. Beyond that, she advocates for what she calls narrative philosophy--'The act of giving meaning by telling and retelling our experiences...' (p 4). Indeed, Park practices what she preaches as she begins her chapters with anecdotes from her own life.

She draws on the work of the existentialists and Buddhist thinkers and contrasts the foundational ideas of the latter with those of Western philosophers, illustrating how new insights can arise when we alter our perspective. She reminds readers that the margin and the center need one another to exist and that what is considered the margin is defined by the center. But there are positive aspects to being on the margin, not least of which is the fact that one gets a more expansive view of reality from there. As I was reading, I was reminded of a comment made to me by one of my students--a white middle class woman--who told me that she was shocked to learn that she had a culture because she'd always just thought her way of life was just normal and it was all those other people who were in different categories than her who had cultures. This is how the center/society operates.

Park goes on to look at specific marginalized identities before concluding with a chapter on benefits of being on the margins. She states that, "The margin is not only a space that the marginalized must endure while confronting the power of the center.Historically, it has also been a space where new and creative ideas emerge, often challenging the stagnation of the center and claiming their own value." (p 143). Furthermore "...the margin reconfigures the center and what the center represents, since the margin is the force for social change." (p 143). The epilogue addresses the current situation in the US.

This is an important, fascinating, and very readable book. There is no jargon, just clear ideas explained beautifully. I loved this book, taking copious notes as I read. There is so much packed into this slim volume and it's well worth your time and attention. I highly recommend it.

Emergent Dharma: Asian American Feminist Buddhists on Practice, Identity, and Resistance: by Sharon A. Suh, PhD (to be published by North Atlantic Books on December 9, 2025)

This fascinating book "...is the first anthology of its kind to surface how Asian American feminists have been doing, being, and seeing Buddhism in generative ways outside of the stereotypes of what it means to be Buddhist in the United States." (p 1) One of the stereotypes Suh and the contributors to this volume are pushing back against is the image of (mostly, but not exclusively, white) converts doing seated meditation. The contributors in this book, while having grown up with Buddhism, may or may not have a regular meditation practice. They also may or may not be 'practicing' in the sense of going to Buddhist gatherings on a regular basis. Their Buddhism, to whatever extent they are still connected to it, is lived. It's practiced not (or not only) on a meditation cushion, but in their everyday lives. It's how they inhabit the world, how they interact with family and others, and a lens through which they view themselves and their relationships. That said, these feminist women are often defining Buddhism and Buddhist practice in ways that are not 'traditional,' and that can lead to some tension with other Buddhists. However, as Suh points out, the goals of feminism and Buddhism are interconnected. According to Suh in her introduction then, the book "...endeavors to clarify that Asian Americans not only practice Buddhism differently, but that a flourishing world of Buddhism is out there, beyond seated meditation aimed at relieving individual and collective suffering." (p 2)

The book does this beautifully. The use of life story here is powerful. Having done life story work with people in the past, I recognize how sharing stories can build bridges of understanding between people. This format allows readers to see, in a very personal and relatable way, how these women relate to Buddhism and how it influences their lives--also how it's a foundational part of their identity, whether they continue to engage in formal practice or not. These stories also show us that Buddhism isn't a separate activity that one engages in on a certain day or at certain times. It's there as a philosophy and a way of life to one degree or another. Sometimes this is a comfort and sometimes something a woman pushes back against. The experiences shared in this volume are varied and encompass many aspects of life. Through these stories, readers learn a great deal about Buddhist philosophy and practice as lived experience. One of the contributors used the term 'pragmatic Buddhism' to describe her path. She did not need or want all of the esoteric and spiritual beliefs and ideas that have been added through the years, but finds the basic teachings very useful--the four noble truths is an example. There is suffering in the world. Much of this suffering is caused by clinging and greed. There is a way out of suffering. That way is the noble eightfold path, which addresses ways to think about and organize one's life in a broad sense (skillful speech, skillful thought, skillful livelihood, etc).

I am not Asian American. I am a feminist. I did not grow up in a Buddhist household or culture. I do not meditate in any classic sense. But I do find pragmatic Buddhism to be my path. That's one of the reasons I loved this book. Another was simply the life stories these women shared. They were touching, powerful, enlightening, and fascinating. I don't think one has to have any background in Buddhism to get something out of this book. Buddhism happens to be one of the connecting threads, but there are others and, in my opinion, it's never a bad idea to learn about the lives of others. It gets us beyond our stereotypes and ideas and expands our minds. This book does that from a few different angles and I highly recommend it. It's well worth your time.

Murder at Mistletoe Manor by F. L. Everett (to be published by Random House UK on October 9, 2025 but may already be out elsewhere)

A few days before Christmas the snow is falling, falling, and falling some more. Nick, a journalist, is trying to get home to London after being away on assignment. His wife and infant daughter are awaiting his arrival. Someone suggests that he wait out the storm, but he's eager to get home, so he drives on only to be sent down the wrong road by his GPS system. Then, as the night comes on, his car conks out. He decides to walk a short way to see if he can find a phone he can use to call his wife and get help. Just as he's about to give up, he stumbles across Mistletoe Manor. There he finds a hotel staff of two--the cook and the guy who does everything else--and several guests. It's clear that he can't go anywhere, so he hunkers down. He tries to get in touch with his wife, but there's no phone signal and the landline doesn't work. The snow continues to fall. Everyone is on edge, since Nick isn't the only guest who had no intention of being there and who wants to get where they're going in time for Christmas. Nonetheless, people try to make the best of it--at least until the next morning when one of the group is found dead in bed. Somehow Nick finds himself using his skills as a journalist to investigate, although it's pretty clear he lacks confidence and isn't really cut out for the job. It's clear one of the people in the hotel did the deed, but who? And is anyone else in danger?

This was a very enjoyable read--a modern story with a classic vibe. The locked room aspect of the story ratchets up the tension. At the same time, there are funny scenes and dialogue as well--I laughed out loud more than once. I thought the book had just the right mix of humor and tension. It's very well written and the characters do come to life on the page. I was immersed in the story from the beginning and kept going back to it, reading it in a day. If you like classic Christmas mysteries, particularly of the locked room type, but set in the present day, then this is an excellent book to pick up.

I thank NetGalley, the publishers, and the authors for digital review copies of the soon-to-be-published books listed above.

And September reading continues. Happy reading!

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