“I want to know why there’s no school, Ma.” “Must you know tonight?” “Yes. Why can’t I go to school?” “Well … it’s because there may be war with Canada.” “With Canada? When?” “No one knows. But it’s best if you stay home until we see what’s going on.” “But why are we going to war with Canada?”
from The Plot Against America by Philip Roth (2004)
I haven’t done one of these book review summary posts in a while. Here’s what I’ve been reading in 2025, so far.
Orientalism by Edward Said (1976), audio
Absurdistan by Gary Shteyngart (2006)
Lament for a Nation by George Grant (1965, 2005 edition)
The Glass Bead Game by Herman Hesse (1943), audio
The Obstacle is the Way by Ryan Holiday (2014)
Yoga for People Who Can’t Be Bothered to Do It by Geoff Dyer (2003)
Culture & Imperialism by Edward Said (1993), audio
Nostromo by Joseph Conrad (1904), audio
All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks (1999), audio
The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner (2018), audio
The Plot Against America by Philip Roth (2004), audio
Elseship: An Unrequited Affair by Tree Abraham (2025)
Money, Lies and God: Inside the Movement to Destroy American Democracy by Katherine Stewart (2025), audio
You may recognize themes in the above, the prevalence of audio books, for instance. Certain political trends, perhaps. I read the Tree Abraham book for The Miramichi Reader, so a review will be appearing there, not here. I already wrote about The Glass Bead Game on this blog, so I won’t be doing again here. I also did a bit on Lament for a Nation already here, too. I’m not going to write about the Kushner book now, either; reading some other Kushner currently, so will do a Kushner-specific post later.
Still, that leaves quite a bit to write about.
It’s probably unfair to Said to start with an anecdote about Christopher Hitchens, but I saw Hitchens in the late 1990s at the University of Toronto. He spoke to a very small audience in support of the Palestinian people, after showing a documentary that had been created/produced, if I remember correctly, by Said (1935-2003), who was then Hitchens’ friend. Later, they were not friends, over Hitchens’ support for Gulf War II and Hitchens’ fever dream about implementing liberal democracy via US military might in Iraq, a story he recounts with some hubris in Hitch-22 (2010), his memoir, wherein he confesses his pipe dreams had failed. Dreams of sipping cocktails by the Tigris a year after the invasion collapsed into horrendous homicidal nightmares. Shock and awe. He also recounts his falling out with Said, while also praising the Columbia University professor’s close reading skills.
I feel like I have been bumping into Orientalism and Culture & Imperialism for years, so taking them in was long overdue. One immediate impression is that Hitchens was right. Said has a tremendous skill for close reading — and a breadth of knowledge about the canon of English and Western literature that one would expect from a Columbia professor. He is not anti-Western. At least, not unable to see and praise great art when he sees it. At the same time, as I noted in my piece on Alice Munro, with great prominence comes the requirement to stand up to great scrutiny. And great scrutiny is what Said provides in these two ferociously argued books. Imperialism, via politics or art, is brought under withering light.
I don’t know what else to say, except Said provides a model of how it ought to be done.
How would I summarize? What did I take away? What is “orientalism”?
You can get a definition via Google or ChatGPT. I’m not going to attempt a comprehensive summary or definition. But what did I take away? Admiration for Said, first of all. The volume of information and depth of analysis is astounding. I can’t say my understanding of history was re-framed so much as my understanding of history was enhanced. He references so many events that either were simply vague to me or nonexistent in my knowledge. Then again, regarding art, I knew that Jane Austen wrote about slavery in, for example, Mansfield Park (1814), her third novel, but Said contextualized it and analyzed it, at least for me, in deep, new ways.
I was about half-way through Culture & Imperialism when Said went into an extended analysis of Joseph Conrad’s novel, Nostromo (1904). I stopped listening to Culture & Imperialism and got the audio-copy of Conrad’s novel from the Toronto Public Library. Wow, that one’s a doozy! A number of years ago I took note of Maya Jasanoff’s intriguing The Dawn Watch: Joseph Conrad in a Global World (2017). I have a copy, but I haven’t read it. I did read, tough, a comment on Substack today, that the world is more Pynchonesque than Pynchon, linking to this post. What Said convinced me of, is that the world today was predicted by Conrad. International capitalism circa 1904 is not so different from the 21st century. But then, Trump’s affection for the Robber Baron era should be a clue, too.
The plot of Nostromo concerns a silver mine in the fictitious South American republic of Costaguana. The mine is owned by an Englishman, who dies and leaves advice to his son, his heir, that he should walk away from the mine; it will bring disaster. But his son is optimistic and determined both to seek his fortune and bring Enlightenment to foreign shores. Culture & imperialism, a double gift. Except the New World isn’t what it seems from “home” and all kinds of disaster befalls the would-be benefactors and their allies. What a novel to begin the 20th century! My local book club recently decided to read Kate Beaton’s graphic novel, Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands (2022), about Beaton’s time in Fort McMurray, Alberta, a journey that rivals Conrad’s own. More on that later.
In any case, after listening to Nostromo I returned to Culture & Imperialism. Then I turned to Katherine Stewart’s Money, Lies and God: Inside the Movement to Destroy American Democracy (2025). This is another story that could have activated Conrad’s pen. Two words: Christian nationalism. One word: motherfuckers.
Suddenly, I’m thinking about how I started writing book reviews in 1991 for the University of Waterloo student newspaper, Imprint, with a review of Milan Kundera’s Immortality. It’s all of a piece. Engaging with art to make sense of the world.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Motherfuckers.
Stewart has followed this beat for a while, but her tale here is the amplification of what was once marginal. Michael Ignatieff, writer, thinker, professor, and former Liberal Party of Canada leader, recently wrote a post attempting to contextual America: “Donald Trump and the Angel of History” (March 23, 2025). Having just read Stewart’s book, I asked Ignatieff in the comments about where he saw the role of Christian nationalism in this story. He responded:
Honest answer is I don’t know. Christian nationalism does go with white resentment at ‘displacement’ and it goes with anxiety about the impact of the sexual revolution on the family. What I can’t figure out is whether it is a driver or follower in this story. What are your thoughts?
I wrote: Increasingly a driver.
Having read Stewart, it’s hard to answer otherwise. Christian nationalism, she concludes, is the point.
Oh, these are heavy and depressing books, aren’t they?
Absurdistan by Gary Shteyngart (2006) can take us into a happier place, yes?
This was my book club pick recently. The blurb on the cover from Time magazine said: “Profoundly funny, genuinely moving and wholly lovable.” My conclusion: wow, spicy. I mean, like Anora (2024) sexy spicy. There is a lot of sex in this book, despite the fact that the protagonist is a 300 lb gargantuan Russian youth. Am I saying it’s Rabelaisian (e.g., like Gargantua and Pantagruel (1532))? Well, yeah. I thought the book club would enjoy it because the world today is, if nothing, absurd, and this book promised to present absurd as fun. Did it deliver? Well, I laughed out loud in a couple of places. Other authors who’ve made me laugh out loud? Mordecai Richler. Anyone else? No. (Well, me. I’ve read some of my old stuff and couldn’t believe I got away with that.)
One thing to add is, I thought Shteyngart had invented the word “absurdistan,” but Wikipedia tells me otherwise.
The Obstacle is the Way by Ryan Holiday (2014) isn’t exactly a fun book, but it’s not about impending disaster, either. It’s about using disaster to … make omelets. You can’t make without breaking eggs, and all that. Actually, Holiday bases his case on Marcus Aurelius (121-180), author of Meditations — and the Stoics. My take away here is if you try hard and persist you will get ahead. Also, identify the obstacle to your success, then use it to achieve success. Examples across history are provided. I didn’t believe any of it, though there were some fancy tales told.
Another fancy tale is, Yoga for People Who Can’t Be Bothered to Do It by Geoff Dyer (2003). Multiple tales, actually, as this is a collection of personal essays. Dyer is definitely not of the school of The Obstacle is the Way. More the opposite. The obstacle is a good reason to sit by the poolside and taste a good Chardonnay. In a broad way, these are travel tales. Dyer appears in Thailand and other locales and suffers existentially. It’s quite entertaining, if not illuminating. Not all of this has aged well, though perhaps well enough.
All we have left now is:
All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks (1999), audio
The Plot Against America by Philip Roth (2004), audio
I’ve been noticing references to bell hooks for years, but I’d never read her. At some point, I picked up her book All About Love: New Visions, but I didn’t read it. Then I gave it away to my younger step-daughter. Then I looked it up on the Toronto Public Library, and they had an audio version. It was an easy “read,” optimistic, too, considering its subject matter. I endorse it. I don’t want to say much about it. If you are looking for a theory of love, this is a good place to start. If you are anxious about the chaos of the world, the Beatles were right. Love is all you need. hooks knows how to implement it.
Now, Roth.
I have never written about Roth, though I’ve read most of his books. Some people really don’t like him, though I don’t understand why. If you look across the entire oeuvre, there is such a variety. Yes, some books are kind of nasty. I can understand how female readers can be turned off, though one female writer once told me that there was no way Roth was a misogynist. Her evidence? The most unlikely novel: Sabbath’s Theater (1995). She said, “Anyone who can write that way about menstruation can’t be a misogynist!”
I have an idea to write an essay: Jersey Boys: Roth & Springsteen. Don’t hold your breath, but it might happen. My thought is that Springsteen memoir shows more self-awareness than Roth ever did. Springsteen calls some of his songs misogynistic!
Anyway, The Plot Against America isn’t one of those Roth novels. When it came out, people asked him if it was about George W. Bush’s America, and he said it wasn’t. But this war with Canada bit is truly contemporary, no?
“I want to know why there’s no school, Ma.” “Must you know tonight?” “Yes. Why can’t I go to school?” “Well … it’s because there may be war with Canada.” “With Canada? When?” “No one knows. But it’s best if you stay home until we see what’s going on.” “But why are we going to war with Canada?”
I mean, Timothy Snyder is writing about war on Canada. The Bulkwart is writing that Trump’s Lust for Canada Echoes Putin’s Lust for Ukraine. The Atlantic is reminding readers that American has invaded Canada before and it didn’t go so well. And now Snyder, and other anti-fascism scholars, have left the USA … and have come to Canada.
But Roth’s book is just a novel, a speculative novel, about Charles Lindberg, aviation hero, Nazi sympathizer, becoming US President, for a while, before, Roosevelt is restored to the presidency, and history continues as we know it.
The speculation is fictional, of course, but now students are being disappeared.
Her name is Rumeysa Ozturk.
Trump has also taken aim at the Smithsonian.
Last time, I wrote about a different book: February 1933: The Winter of Literature by Uwe Wittstock (2023). Which may be relevant because, well, I dunno.
To me, The Plot Against America stands as an outlier in Roth’s oeuvre. Historical fiction isn’t his thing. On the other hand, he gets pretty speculative in Our Gang (1971) about President Nixon, and in Operation Shylock (1993) about a fiction Philip Roth and accused Nazi war criminal & US autoworker, John Demjanjuk, and in … actually, many other Roth works. So maybe not an outlier?
The “Jewish themes” of the novel are certainly not an outlier, as Roth stresses the question — what does it mean to be a minority within America? America promises self-actualization and the Jewish community, in Roth’s presentation, prioritizes self-protection (as a collective) over individual growth.
This is a whole other conversation, and if I ever write my Roth/Springsteen piece I’ll have to get into it. For now, I’ll just say that in most of Roth’s work he comes down in favour of the individual. In The Plot Against America, preservation of the collective takes precedence.