[{"id":276169,"date":"2026-09-03T05:08:47","date_gmt":"2026-09-03T09:08:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276169"},"modified":"2026-08-31T12:23:28","modified_gmt":"2026-08-31T16:23:28","slug":"inside-the-tumultuous-private-life-of-muhammad-ali-jinnah-founder-of-pakistan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/inside-the-tumultuous-private-life-of-muhammad-ali-jinnah-founder-of-pakistan\/","title":{"rendered":"Inside the Tumultuous Private Life of Muhammad Ali Jinnah, Founder of Pakistan"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>When the Simon Commission met Jinnah in the lobby of the Western Hotel in February 1929, everything about him belied the fact that he would soon found the world\u2019s first Islamic republic: Pakistan. A reserved Gujarati barrister-turned politician who the <i>New York Times <\/i>described as &#8220;undoubtedly one of the best dressed men in the British Empire,&#8221; he drank whisky, ate pork and was renowned for chain-smoking cigarettes in his open-top limousine.<\/p>\n<p>The question of how this man evolved into the founder of Pakistan is one that has puzzled historians for close to a century, and that the Simon Commissioners themselves would reflect upon repeatedly in the years to come. Growing up in Hindu-majority Karachi, Jinnah had originally wanted to be a Shakespearean actor, but he proved unsuccessful and instead enrolled in a law degree, resolving never to fail at anything ever again. By the end of the Great War, he had become one of the best paid lawyers in the country, an elected member of the Viceroy\u2019s Imperial Legislative Council; the tallest leader in Muslim politics, and well on his way to becoming the most important Congress leader. With his meticulous attention to detail, Jinnah could navigate himself precisely where he needed to be, a trait that often made him seem aloof. But those who knew him well found him to be warm and exceptionally intelligent. &#8220;Never was there a nature whose outer qualities provided so complete an antithesis of its inner worth,&#8221; wrote Sarojini Naidu, the society hostess and nationalist poet who was a close friend of Jinnah. Jinnah, she believed, should be lauded as India\u2019s primary &#8220;ambassador of Hindu-Muslim unity,&#8221; even if his cold reserve meant you did &#8220;need a fur coat now and then.&#8221; She writes,<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">His accustomed reserve but masks, for those who know him, a na\u00efve and eager humanity, an intuition as quick and tender as a woman\u2019s, a humour gay and winning as a child\u2019s. Pre-eminently rational and practical&#8230;his worldly wisdom effectively disguise[s] a shy and splendid idealism which is the very essence of the man.<\/p>\n<p>Jinnah\u2019s rise had seemed unstoppable, but in 1918 he had scandalized Bombay high society by courting Ruttie Petit, the eighteen-year-old daughter of a Parsi baronet and one of the most &#8220;envied debutante[s] of her generation.&#8221; The patriarch of the family, Sir Dinshaw Petit, happened to be a vocal supporter of interfaith marriages, believing like many liberals at the time that they would be vital in gluing India into a single nation. When forty-two-year-old Jinnah had asked to marry his teenage daughter, however, Sir Dinshaw was horrified and banned the two from meeting. Jinnah and Ruttie continued their courtship, however, and Ruttie writes that Jinnah burned &#8220;storming passions into the very fibre of her being.&#8221; In his presence she appeared utterly radiant: &#8220;like a fairy,&#8221; wrote one observer, and two months after her birthday they eloped, with Ruttie converting to Islam the day before the wedding. &#8220;Jinnah has at last plucked the blue flower of his desire,&#8221; wrote Sarojini Naidu, who was closely following the scandal along with the rest of Bombay society.<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">It was all very sudden and caused terrible agitation and anger among the Parsis: but I think though the child has made far greater sacrifices than she yet realises, Jinnah is worth it all\u2014he loves her: the one really genuine emotion of his reserved and self-centred nature and he will make her happy.<\/p>\n<p>Sarojini\u2019s optimism proved misplaced, however. Parsi society ostracized Ruttie, and her father summoned the couple to court, alleging that Jinnah had abducted her. Here Ruttie defiantly stood up and told the judge, &#8220;Mr Jinnah has not abducted me; in fact I have abducted him.&#8221; But in the aftermath she was excommunicated from her community, banned from all Parsi social occasions and told she could never return to her childhood home. Having once dreamed a modern India would be able to move past divisions of religion and caste, Jinnah became disillusioned. For Ruttie, meanwhile, it marked the start of a lonely new life. Her husband revealed himself to be a workaholic with an &#8220;aversion to holidays&#8221; and a tendency to forget her birthday. He spent most of his time campaigning for India\u2019s nationalist movement, and Ruttie ended up alone for months at a time. Jinnah did love her of course, but as his legal assistant recalled years later:<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">They were poles apart&#8230;I remember her walking into Jinnah\u2019s chambers whilst we were in the midst of a conference, dressed in a manner which would be called fast even by modern standards, perch herself upon Jinnah\u2019s table, dangling her feet, and waiting for Jinnah to finish the conference&#8230;[Meanwhile] Jinnah carried on with his work as if she were not there at all.<\/p>\n<p>The rise of Mohandas Gandhi, who began to overshadow Jinnah as India\u2019s leading nationalist politician, only added further difficulties to the Jinnah\u2019s tumultuous marriage. Jinnah was horrified by the way Gandhi brought religion into politics and felt that under Gandhi\u2019s leadership the Congress Party was being transformed into &#8220;an instrument for the revival of Hinduism and for the establishment of Hindu Raj [rule].&#8221; He considered Gandhi a diaspora upstart from South Africa who had merely returned to India to cosplay as a sadhu and lecture everyone about how to &#8220;fix&#8221; Indian culture. But Gandhi\u2019s religious politics proved far more popular than Jinnah\u2019s own, and in December 1920 Jinnah was booed off stage for refusing to address Gandhi as the &#8220;Mahatma&#8221; or &#8220;Great Soul.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>In turn, Jinnah became increasingly convinced that Gandhi was a &#8220;fake and a demagogue,&#8221; and when Gandhi proposed a political boycott of British government institutions, he protested that such a move would only end up closing government schools and courts. He tried to rally nationalist leaders against Gandhi, but after months of despair, he finally announced that he was leaving the Congress altogether. &#8220;I will have nothing to do with this pseudo religious approach to politics,&#8221; Jinnah wearily announced. Outside of Congress, however, Jinnah\u2019s political career began to decline and his relationship with Ruttie deteriorated. Depressed and alone, Ruttie sought solace in Bombay\u2019s jazz clubs while Jinnah focused on building a political base in the Muslim League\u2014a rival political party to the Congress. But his growing emphasis on his Muslim identity only alienated Ruttie more, and one day, when she drove to meet him at the town hall, he screamed at her for packing ham sandwiches. &#8220;What have you done!&#8221; he exclaimed. &#8220;If my voters were to learn that I am going to eat ham sandwiches for lunch, do you think I have a ghost of a chance of being elected?&#8221; Ruttie distanced herself from her husband after that, and instead started experimenting with drugs and spirit communication, leading friends to worry about the number of morphine needles she left scattered around her room.<\/p>\n<p>With their marriage falling apart, both Jinah and Ruttie neglected their newborn daughter, who would remain nameless for almost six years. The &#8220;little baby is one of the most pathetic, heartbreaking things I have ever seen,&#8221; wrote Sarojini\u2019s daughter Padmaja Naidu to her sister in 1921. \u2018&#8221;I simply cannot understand Ruttie\u2019s attitude\u2014I do not blame her as most people her seem to do, but whenever I remember the dazed, scared child, like some mortally hurt animal, I come near to hating Ruttie in spite of my great affection for her.&#8221; Three years later Padmaja\u2019s sister also met the child, and described her as &#8220;the one dark shadow (an exquisite little shadow)&#8230;[an] unnamed and unloved little baby, [who] clung to me and begged me &#8216;not to go&#8217; when I was leaving her nursery.&#8221; Jinnah, meanwhile, poured his energy into the question of Muslim representation in a future Indian parliament. Although Muslims made up a third of India\u2019s population, they were thinly spread across the country and in any new democratic system would almost always find themselves at the whims of the Hindu majority. Months before the Simon Commission\u2019s arrival, Jinnah put forward a &#8220;bold set of proposals&#8221; for Muslim representation, which he hoped might resolve the matter. Sarojini Naidu, who had recently been elected the first woman Congress president, bought him a gold casket to mark the occasion, engraved with the inscription:<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">To Mohammed Ali Jinnah, Ambassador of Unity. From his loyal friend and follower, Bombay, May 1927, Sarojini Naidu.<\/p>\n<p>It was around this time that Jinnah learned that no Indians would be included on the Simon Commission. He was quickly recognized as a leader of the anti-Simon Commission boycott, and wrote to a Labour politician: &#8220;The exclusion of Indians from the Commission is fundamentally wrong&#8230;[and] is calculated to humiliate and wound the self-respect of the people of India.&#8221; His career was taking off again, but on January 4, 1928, three weeks before the commission\u2019s arrival, Ruttie announced she was leaving him. Afterwards they sat for hours in a train carriage, before parting ways at Bombay\u2019s Victoria station. Jinnah was &#8220;too proud and hurt to stop her.&#8221; A month later, when the Simon Commission encountered Jinnah in the lobby of Delhi\u2019s Western Hotel, they found him &#8220;immaculately&#8230;attired in European dress,&#8221; but a shell of his former self. Accompanying him was fellow nationalist Lajpat Rai, who immediately told Cadogan that &#8220;he had no inclination for social interaction with any member of the Commission.&#8221; Cadogan could see that Jinnah was &#8220;struggling to maintain&#8221; his role as an ambassador of Hindu-Muslim unity, however. Cadogan would never meet Jinnah again, but another of the Simon Commissioners would, under very different circumstances. Twenty years later Clement Attlee would speak to Jinnah as the prime minister of Great Britain, while Jinnah was the founder of Pakistan, the world\u2019s first Islamic republic.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">____________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"276170\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/inside-the-tumultuous-private-life-of-muhammad-ali-jinnah-founder-of-pakistan\/shattered-lands\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/shattered-lands.jpg\" data-orig-size=\"600,911\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"shattered lands\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/shattered-lands.jpg\" class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-276170\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/shattered-lands-198x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"198\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/shattered-lands-198x300.jpg 198w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/shattered-lands-40x60.jpg 40w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/shattered-lands-33x50.jpg 33w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/shattered-lands.jpg 600w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 198px) 100vw, 198px\" \/><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>From<\/em> <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781324123781\">Shattered Lands: Five Partitions and the Making of Modern Asia<\/a> <em>by Sam Dalrymple. Copyright \u00a9 2026. Available from W.W. Norton &amp; Company. <\/em>Shattered Lands<em> has been shortlisted for the 2026 <a href=\"https:\/\/www.cundillprize.com\/\">Cundill History Prize<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>When the Simon Commission met Jinnah in the lobby of the Western Hotel in February 1929, everything about him belied the fact that he would soon found the world\u2019s first Islamic republic: Pakistan. A reserved Gujarati barrister-turned politician who the<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":31816,"featured_media":276210,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43102,6,43101,43092],"tags":[111978,60417,6779,111983,8478,8561,111981,111982,42227,12598],"class_list":["post-276169","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-biography","category-features","category-history","category-newsandculture","tag-2026-cundill-history-prize","tag-cundill-history-prize","tag-india","tag-muhammad-ali-jinnah","tag-pakistan","tag-partition","tag-sam-dalrymple","tag-shattered-lands-five-partitions-and-the-making-of-modern-asia","tag-south-asia","tag-w-w-norton-and-company","story-type-cundill-history-prize"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19Ql","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/jinnah.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276169","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/31816"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276169"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276169\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276210"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276169"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276169"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276169"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276102,"date":"2026-09-03T05:08:06","date_gmt":"2026-09-03T09:08:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276102"},"modified":"2026-08-31T12:24:08","modified_gmt":"2026-08-31T16:24:08","slug":"searching-for-the-elusive-snow-leopard-deep-in-the-himalayas","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/searching-for-the-elusive-snow-leopard-deep-in-the-himalayas\/","title":{"rendered":"Searching For the Elusive Snow Leopard Deep in the Himalayas"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: left;\"><em>The Himalaya, India, January 2008<\/em><\/p>\n<p>At minus sixteen degrees Celsius, it was warm for a winter\u2019s day in the Himalaya. I was in the Spiti Valley of Himachal Pradesh, a huge gorge that cuts deep into the mountains of the Greater Himalaya and Tibet. Wind\u2011lashed, with temperatures dropping as low as minus thirty\u2011five degrees Celsius, this is a high\u2011altitude land of vertical rock faces and torrential glacier\u2011melt rivers.<\/p>\n<p>I had come to study the winter foraging behavior of the blue sheep (<i>Pseudois nayaur<\/i>), a unique species of wild goat with sheeplike traits. Standing some ninety centimeters tall at the shoulder, the blue sheep live in herds that range as high as nineteen thousand feet above sea level. Superb climbers, they have an uncanny ability to \u201cdisappear\u201d into the slopes and cliffs, where their gray coats camouflage them against the rocky backdrop. When startled, they give a burst of three or four loud football\u2011referee\u2011type whistles to alert their herd to danger. The males have thick, ridged horns that curl sideways and back, whereas the females have thin, short, straight horns. Found across the Tibetan Plateau and the Greater Himalaya, these blue sheep are known by many names\u2014<i>bharal <\/i>in Hindi, <i>y\u00e1n y\u00e1ng <\/i>in Mandarin, <i>naur <\/i>in Nepali, <i>na <\/i>or <i>sna <\/i>in Tibetan, and more\u2014and are the snow leopard\u2019s favored prey.<\/p>\n<p>My plan was to spend the winter of 2007 in Spiti, tracking the blue sheep herds as they foraged, meticulously recording their behavior and the plants they chose to eat.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">Seeing the snow leopard changed the course of my life, and every new snow leopard sighting reminds me to go in search of the unknown, instills me with a sense of meaning and purpose.<\/p>\n<p>That particular day, I had left camp at six in the morning and by half past seven reached the spot where I had seen blue sheep the day before\u2014but there was no sign of them. I thought they might have gone beyond the next hill, but no such luck. After another two hours of looking for my study herd, I decided to rest a while before resuming the search. Tired and cold, I was now at the edge of a rolling plateau named Hom. On my right was a gorge, a vertiginous thousand\u2011meter drop to the Shilla River, an important tributary of the Spiti. When a golden eagle flew below me in the gorge, I pulled out my camera to photograph this king of the Himalayan birds, but the device refused to start; its battery had been drained by the chill.<\/p>\n<p>An hour of hard climbing through knee\u2011deep snow took me to the crest of the plateau at an altitude of forty\u2011five hundred meters. I gasped for breath in the rarefied air. The endless Tibetan steppe extended in front of me, the dark and frigid gorge to the Shilla River on my right. Resting my weight on my ice axe, I was admiring the panoramic view when the cliffs below me suddenly came alive as a house\u2011sized boulder plunged with a crash into the gorge. By now, I was used to seeing rockfalls but never anything of this scale. A deep silence followed.<\/p>\n<p>A chirpy whistle broke the quiet: the blue sheep\u2019s alarm call. It rang from somewhere very close, but I couldn\u2019t see the animals. Then I spotted them nearby in the gorge\u2014a group of twelve blue sheep grazing on one of the rock ledges only a hundred or so feet diagonally below me. My systematic observation of their behavior and feeding could finally begin. Over an hour passed without much activity from the herd. The sky turned gray, and feathery flakes of powdered snow filled the air.<\/p>\n<p>My body stiffened. The whole canyon was frozen\u2014boulders covered with snow, a few leafless trees, no water flowing in the gorge\u2014and the only sounds were those of the occasional tumble of smaller rocks into the abyss.<\/p>\n<p>A small movement caught the corner of my eye. This was not a falling rock; there was no sound. The movement was on the same slope as my blue sheep and me. I looked carefully where I thought the ripple had come from. It moved again, and this time I saw it: the ghost of the mountains. The snow leopard. He was so well camouflaged that I never would have noticed him had he not taken a step forward. The blue sheep were unaware of the snow leopard; the snow leopard was unaware of the blue sheep. He was on a ledge about four hundred feet below me and his prey. He must have been there the whole time. He seemed young, a little small to be a full\u2011grown adult. He sat down briefly but stayed alert, with his neck stretched, head up, and eyes scanning the horizon. I was trying to pick out any peculiarities in his fur to identify him, but it was impossible to fix upon details at this distance. He got up and started padding along the cliff, moving gently, hardly leaving a footprint in the deepening snow. I had become so familiar with these mountains that I knew exactly where that ledge would lead him. He would pass directly below the blue sheep herd I was watching, then below me, then finally emerge on a wider slope farther to my right.<\/p>\n<p>Now the quest was to reach the starting point of the ledge before the snow leopard did and then hide there to get a better look. I ran at full tilt, struggling in the thin air. The shoulder of the plateau gave me complete cover from the snow leopard beneath. The start of the ledge on which the snow leopard walked was slightly broad and had a little grass on it, so it was no surprise to find a herd of blue sheep grazing there as well. Seeing these blue sheep in the path of the approaching snow leopard, I was certain about two things: The snow leopard had not yet arrived, but when he did, there was going to be a scene.<\/p>\n<p>I took cover between two boulders, using the one in front to prop up my elbows like a tripod\u2014for my binoculars\u2014and the one behind me to support my back. Hours seemed to pass, but there was still no sign of the snow leopard. The weather had turned windy, and with the sun behind the clouds, the deep cold began to freeze the sweat on my clothes. I was considering whether the leopard might have turned and gone when, suddenly, another alarm whistle rang out: The snow leopard had arrived. He must be close\u2014the blue sheep were running\u2014yet I could not see him.<\/p>\n<p>I had to think like a snow leopard: Where would I be if I were him? I scanned the ledge along which I was expecting the snow leopard to appear and eventually sighted him sitting under an overhanging rock, perfectly camouflaged. He was indeed a little young. On many occasions, I had seen two sets of pugmarks\u2014the footprints of a mother and her cub\u2014in this very area. A camera\u2011trap picture had shown the cub to be a male. Could this be him? Had he been weaned from his mother already? And where was she? Dead\u2014or perhaps trying to mate again this winter? I was smiling with the sheer joy of seeing this incredible creature, but my mind was a roller coaster. Would he know how to hunt? Would he be able to make a kill anytime soon?<\/p>\n<p>And then, without warning, the snow leopard got up and gently glided down the steep sides of the gorge, disappearing into the boulders at the bottom.<\/p>\n<p>Only then did I become conscious of my surroundings. An inch of snow had accumulated over the last few hours, a remarkable fall for one day in the Trans\u2011Himalaya. The temperature had dropped further, and only when I tried to move did I realize that my feet had frozen. I had been sitting still for too long. I found an overhanging rock (just like the one the snow leopard had used for shelter), gathered some twigs, and lit a small fire. Taking off my boots, I gasped as warmed blood rushed into my feet, triggering intense pain\u2014my toes thawing.<\/p>\n<p>I sat for a while, my body aching with fatigue but my heart full of happiness. Under that rock, with the small fire to keep me toasty, the snow falling all around me, I was overcome with emotions.<\/p>\n<p>I had seen snow leopards once before, but this was special. For the first time, I had experienced a perfect harmony between the mountains, the snow, the leopard, the blue sheep, and me. I had spotted one of the rarest animals in the world in its natural habitat and accurately predicted its behavior. The tranquility of the experience told me that I was not an outsider anymore. I was one with the landscape, and I felt accepted. It was impossible not to romanticize this encounter as an invitation into the world of the snow leopard. Studying this animal had been a dream of mine, and now I had been initiated. I was alone with the snow leopard and the blue sheep, deep in the Himalaya. In that moment, I understood what it meant to be a snow leopard biologist, and I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Throughout my career, I have continued to seek such moments of oneness with the mountains.<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p>Yet the question about the number of snow leopards is nearly always followed by a question about whether I\u2019ve ever caught sight of this most elusive of animals. Why do we care so much about seeing wild snow leopards, and what fuels our desire to witness them in their natural habitat? Snow leopards have a singular grip on the human imagination. In the early 1970s, George Schaller, a wildlife scientist, became the first\u2011ever person to photograph a snow leopard in the wild. The picture was published with fanfare by <i>National Geographic <\/i>just a few years after the moon landing, and the snow leopard became a symbol of the mysteries that still exist on planet Earth.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">In my first encounters with the snow leopard, I mythologized them as part of a faraway world, removed from humans. But I soon came to realize how closely their lives are entwined with our human world.<\/p>\n<p>Then, in 1978, Peter Matthiessen, Schaller\u2019s friend and travel companion, published <i>The Snow Leopard<\/i>. In it, Matthiessen writes of an expedition he undertook with Schaller, shortly after his wife\u2019s death, to see the snow leopard in the Dolpa region of Nepal. Matthiessen never did see the snow leopard, but the creature\u2019s allure\u2014its aesthetic beauty, its idyllic but desolate mountain habitats, its wary, almost mythical behavior\u2014draws us to this day. Shaped to perfection by evolution, snow leopards live solitary lives in the highest reaches of the Himalaya, surrounded only by glaciers, snow, rocks, and icy peaks. They are shy, and their silvery\u2011brown\u2011and\u2011white coats, marked with dark rosettes, work like magic cloaks, offering such good camouflage that they can disappear in plain sight. They have long, furry tails\u2014the longest of any cat in the world\u2014which they wrap around their bodies like mufflers on cold nights. As they maneuver around exposed cliffs, their tails also work like the balancing poles of tightrope walkers. Their thick, wide paws, lined with fur, act like snowshoes, helping them walk on snow like elves. They are silent predators, unable to roar. They move through the cliffs and rock faces like smoke. For me, nearly two decades and several sightings later, every snow leopard encounter is still a transcendent experience, like the crack of dawn after a dark night. Seeing the snow leopard changed the course of my life, and every new snow leopard sighting reminds me to go in search of the unknown, instills me with a sense of meaning and purpose.<\/p>\n<p>Snow leopards are an endangered species, sparsely distributed in mountainous terrain in the twelve countries that straddle the Himalaya and Central Asia. They are legally protected in all these countries, but given their remote mountain habitat and inaccessible high\u2011elevation dwellings, their conservation did not gain urgency until recently. How could anyone prioritize the conservation of a species that we knew so little about? Knowing the animal would come before worrying about its survival. Snow leopards were safe, it was thought, in their rugged and isolated mountain abode; humanity would never breach their Himalayan kingdom.<\/p>\n<p>But climate change now threatens the glaciers and rivers of the Himalaya. Globalization has connected distant places into a complex web of supply chains across the planet, where consumer decisions in distant countries threaten the survival of species they have never seen and, sometimes, have never known existed. Extractive mining has reached the highest mountain peaks and the deepest oceans, and there is no protection in even the most remote corners of the earth.<\/p>\n<p>Yet the story of the snow leopard is one of hope. In my first encounters with the snow leopard, I mythologized them as part of a faraway world, removed from humans. But I soon came to realize how closely their lives are entwined with our human world. As my research progressed, I came to understand that I would be blessed with more glimpses of the snow leopard if I learned more about the things that surround them: the mountains where they live, the herbivores they hunt, and the people who share this landscape with them. During nearly twenty years of research, I have attempted to understand these entanglements as much as the biology of the snow leopard itself. The local people\u2014the real custodians of the mountains and their wildlife\u2014and my time spent with them have made me a firm believer in a bright future for the snow leopard.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">____________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"276103\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/searching-for-the-elusive-snow-leopard-deep-in-the-himalayas\/the-ghost-of-the-mountains\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/the-ghost-of-the-mountains.jpeg\" data-orig-size=\"298,450\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"the ghost of the mountains\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/the-ghost-of-the-mountains.jpeg\" class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-276103\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/the-ghost-of-the-mountains-199x300.jpeg\" alt=\"\" width=\"199\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/the-ghost-of-the-mountains-199x300.jpeg 199w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/the-ghost-of-the-mountains-40x60.jpeg 40w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/the-ghost-of-the-mountains-33x50.jpeg 33w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/the-ghost-of-the-mountains.jpeg 298w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 199px) 100vw, 199px\" \/><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>From <\/em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9798217043736\">The Ghost of the Mountains: Unraveling the Secrets of the Snow Leopard<\/a><em> by Kulbhushansingh Suryawanshi. Published on August 25, 2026 by Riverhead Books, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright \u00a9 2026 by Kulbhushansingh Suryawanshi.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Himalaya, India, January 2008 At minus sixteen degrees Celsius, it was warm for a winter\u2019s day in the Himalaya. I was in the Spiti Valley of Himachal Pradesh, a huge gorge that cuts deep into the mountains of the<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":31797,"featured_media":276147,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[6,43231,43092],"tags":[1453,5742,15925,67525,6779,111855,39238,16228,6552,71041,111928,20907],"class_list":["post-276102","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-features","category-nature","category-newsandculture","tag-animals","tag-biology","tag-ecology","tag-himalayas","tag-india","tag-kulbhushansingh-suryawanshi","tag-penguin-publishing-group","tag-penguin-random-house","tag-riverhead-books","tag-snow-leopards","tag-the-ghost-of-the-mountains-unraveling-the-secrets-of-the-snow-leopard","tag-the-natural-world","story-type-the-natural-world"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19Pg","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/snow-leopard.jpeg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276102","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/31797"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276102"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276102\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276147"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276102"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276102"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276102"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276274,"date":"2026-09-03T05:07:37","date_gmt":"2026-09-03T09:07:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276274"},"modified":"2026-09-02T21:43:03","modified_gmt":"2026-09-03T01:43:03","slug":"what-measuring-the-carbon-footprint-of-a-rock-concert-reveals-about-corporate-complicity","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/what-measuring-the-carbon-footprint-of-a-rock-concert-reveals-about-corporate-complicity\/","title":{"rendered":"What Measuring the Carbon Footprint of a Rock Concert Reveals About Corporate Complicity"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Some of music\u2019s most exact measurements have been taken in relation to concerts. Spend any time looking at music from an environmental perspective and you are sure to learn that live music accounts for the majority of the industry\u2019s carbon footprint. You will also quickly learn that most of that footprint comes from audience travel.<\/p>\n<p>According to the latest and most comprehensive study ever undertaken on the subject, gigs generate over 14 million tons of emissions annually in the United States, accounting for 0.2 percent of overall greenhouse gases. In Britain, that number is more like 4 million tons and is good for 1 percent of total yearly emissions. Getting to those gigs accounts for over 60 percent of live music\u2019s footprint in the United States and nearly 80 percent in Britain. Discovering that audience travel is \u201cthe single largest source\u201d of music industry emissions is the report\u2019s \u201ckey insight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>This insight may be key, but it is not new. Singling out live music and audience travel in accounts of music\u2019s carbon footprint has been industry orthodoxy for at least two decades\u2014certainly since 2007, when both Radiohead and the arts-and-climate nonprofit Julie\u2019s Bicycle published carbon audits of the music world. Radiohead\u2019s efforts were focused on the band\u2019s North American concerts, finding that \u201cfan travel and consumption make up 86 percent of the theater tour and 97 percent of the amphitheater tour.\u201d Julie\u2019s Bicycle, meanwhile, in a sector-wide study that included recording, publishing, and more found that \u201clive music performance together with audience travel account for three-quarters of the UK music industry\u2019s emissions.\u201d<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">Environmental thinking on live music encourages a form of atmospheric accounting where scrutiny of the personal trees passes for consideration of the political forest.<\/p>\n<p>Musicians are not blameless here. Some touring acts, like Taylor Swift, catch flak for their private jet emissions and try to compensate through carbon offsetting. Others, like Massive Attack, pause or downscale their touring activities while seeking low-carbon options. \u201cArtists should be held accountable for their travel,\u201d according to interviewees in the recent study. And artists apparently agree. \u201cStill,\u201d say the interviewees, \u201ctheir emissions are minutia when compared to that of fans.\u201d It is only logical that if \u201cfan travel is the largest source of GHG emissions in the live music industry,\u201d then \u201cefforts for reducing emissions should be largely directed there.\u201d The report aims to \u201cnullify the distracting, ill-informed mischaracterization of the emissions impact of artists\u201d and make audiences responsible for developing \u201cgood habits\u201d as they attend concerts. Admit one: <i>Homo carbonicus<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>None of these environmental reports looks exclusively at audiences. They all mention the impact of wider business practices like food and freight. They recognize the tangled and systemic character of the issues they face. But the category of audience travel comes up repeatedly in studies of live music\u2019s carbon footprint\u2014and it is never really questioned. The category is given. The only task is to measure it with greater precision and more impressive methods, so that the largest carbon reductions may be achieved. There will be successes on that front, even as its underlying beliefs about measurement and responsibility lift some eyebrows. But fixating on carbon in this way carries an unintended consequence. It preserves a false dichotomy between artists and audiences.<\/p>\n<p>Performers on stages and attendees in venues are obviously engaged in different kinds of activity. But this surface difference papers over something more fundamentally shared. Most musicians and fans need jobs to make a living. Even very famous musicians are often contracted to sell their capacity to work. Although the carbon footprints of artists and audiences can obviously be measured separately and reckoned accordingly, both groups have to burn carbon in order to participate in social life. And most of them did not choose the economic arrangement that compels them to burn that carbon, that splits labor and leisure in this way, that organizes work and pleasure around certain kinds of mobility.<\/p>\n<p>This setup sometimes authorizes cheap shots about the supposed irony that environmentally conscious musicians and fans would travel for concerts. It can permit low blows about events that promote environmentalism while also making claims on the environment. But does it count as insight to point out that people happen to be part of the reality they want to change? Is there really no festival without cruelty? Either way, environmental thinking on live music encourages a form of atmospheric accounting where scrutiny of the personal trees passes for consideration of the political forest. Focusing on audience travel is one more way that economic power disorganizes and discourages its potential opposition.<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p><i>Homo carbonicus <\/i>does not actually exist. It cannot be mapped onto any individual\u2019s thoughts or actions or admitted to any concert. Rather, <i>Homo carbonicus <\/i>is a figurative abstraction, a collective consciousness, an interpersonal framework for defining problems and seeking solutions. If the go-to responses of this figure are responsibility and metrology, such instincts find stability in institutions that objectify certain calculative agencies in a wider audit culture. In other words, <i>Homo carbonicus <\/i>is part of a more general historical moment in which people have been transformed \u201cinto \u2018auditable\u2019 entities that focus their energies on doing \u2018what counts\u2019 rather than what is necessarily moral or right.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>These intuitions and institutions can operate differently depending on their scale and size, but they share some patterns of thought. One of the most important limitations here is that in such settings, instead of asking what counts, we assume we already know, and we focus instead on how to account. This explains the focus on audience travel in the carbon footprint of live music. It also helps explain the drive for ever more precise carbon calculators and ever more detailed atmospheric accounting in other industrial and cultural areas of music, while larger questions about carbon go unasked.<\/p>\n<p>Custom carbon calculators are proliferating among independent music businesses and organizations. These range from free personal tools, like Onboard:Earth (a smartphone app that measures and tracks carbon emissions from musician and fan travel to concerts) to Green Your Noise (an online service that will estimate the emissions of everything from single concerts to larger tours and productions). Others follow membership and subscription models, both paid and not. Some hire consulting firms. One of the most visible tools here is the Independent Music Companies Association IMPALA Carbon Calculator, developed in collaboration with the nonprofit climate organization Julie\u2019s Bicycle.<\/p>\n<p>The IMPALA Carbon Calculator is tailored to independent record labels. It is designed to measure business activities deemed to be within IMPALA\u2019s \u201coperational boundary.\u201d Such activities include office use, employee commuting, business travel, manufacturing, and distribution. Since launching in 2022, IMPALA\u2019s calculator has become the tool of choice for 100 labels in twenty-one countries.<\/p>\n<p>Music\u2019s largest companies do things differently. Since around 2020, the three major music groups, Sony, Universal, and Warner, along with large streaming providers like Spotify, have all started reporting their emissions figures annually. An important starting point in the process is making splashy appointments in corporate social responsibility and environmental social governance. Warner, for example, hired Samantha Sims as head of ESG in 2021. Sims worked previously to establish a sustainability program at PVH, which owns clothing brands including Calvin Klein and Tommy Hilfiger. Spotify hired Elizabeth Nieto in 2021 as leader of equity and impact, an umbrella role that covers initiatives in sustainability, social impact, and \u201cearly career pipeline\u201d as well as \u201cdiversity, inclusion, and belonging.\u201d Nieto\u2019s prior jobs were with corporations like Citigroup, MetLife, and Amazon. Despite differences between the approaches of the independents and the majors, the back-end work of calculating carbon is essentially the same. To inventory their emissions, carbon\u2019s bookkeepers first consult the Greenhouse Gas Protocol Corporate Accounting and Reporting Standard. The GHG Protocol is a process document. It helps businesses decide how and where to draw the lines of responsibility regarding emissions. These are the \u201coperational boundaries\u201dmentioned by IMPALA.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">If responsibilization in one sense means accepting forms of self-monitoring and self-deprivation, taking responsibility in carbon accounting can also be an evasive maneuver.<\/p>\n<p>Once those boundaries have been mapped and tallied\u2014counting how many kilometers an organization\u2019s employees have traveled through the air, how much electricity the offices have used, and so on\u2014the second step of carbon accounting involves applying an emissions conversion factor in order to translate those figures into greenhouse gases. If your business is based in Britain, the Department for Business, Energy, and Industrial Strategy will tell you that taking a domestic flight emits 0.24587 kilograms of carbon per passenger, per kilometer, or that staying in a hotel emits 10.4 kilograms of carbon per room, per night. If a company is based primarily in the United States, the conversion factors are likely to be different\u2014and probably provided by the Environmental Protection Agency. A common, worldwide source for power usage is the International Energy Agency\u2019s annual emissions factors reporting.<\/p>\n<p>The GHG Protocol is known to be accurate when it comes to understanding the emissions from an organization\u2019s onsite activities as well as the energy it purchases from the electricity grid. Yet the protocol is open to interpretation when it comes to accounting for emissions along an organization\u2019s wider supply chains and waste streams. Still, it is less important in this context to question accuracy than the boundaries of responsibility.<\/p>\n<p>For example, the GHG Protocol is what allows Spotify to stress that 99 percent of their emissions fall outside of their direct control. It is also what allows IMPALA to say that, although independent labels are answerable for the manufacturing emissions associated with their products (like records), \u201cOur conclusion is that labels are not responsible for digital services\u2019 emissions, in the same way that we are not responsible for the emissions of physical retailers\u2019 stores on the high street.\u201d This is a curious move, where an organization\u2019s wider emissions are both ushered into the accounting picture and bounced out of it. If responsibilization in one sense means accepting forms of self-monitoring and self-deprivation, taking responsibility in carbon accounting can also be an evasive maneuver.<\/p>\n<p>This is not surprising, given the history of the GHG Protocol. Although national carbon accounting and reporting goes back to 1995, with the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change and the Kyoto Protocol, and while individual carbon footprints entered climate common sense only after 2004, when the idea was popularized by an ad campaign spearheaded by British Petroleum and the Ogilvy marketing agency, corporate carbon measurements and methods took shape in 1997. It was then that BP, wishing to reduce its emissions profile, found there was no standard system for measuring and reporting on carbon at the corporate level. When BP set out to develop such a standard, its efforts were noticed by Monsanto, General Motors, and the World Resources Institute (currently funded by the Jeff Bezos Earth Fund, the World Economic Forum, Walmart, and many others). The collaboration resulted in a 1998 report titled <i>Safe Climate, Sound Business<\/i>. This report, alongside additional collaboration with the World Business Council for Sustainable Development (which represents not only BP but also DuPont, Shell, and more), laid the groundwork for the GHG Protocol.<\/p>\n<p>While such efforts seem good if taken at face value, the fact that they are driven by market considerations means there are ulterior purposes at play. For example, when BP and other corporations talk about reducing their emissions, the word <i>reduce <\/i>is doing some heavy lifting. Corporations are often not seeking direct or absolute reduction. They are seeking the appearance of reduction that comes from emissions trading schemes\u2014which are controversial at best, ineffective at worst, and everywhere ensconced in the eco-liberal conviction that capitalist markets, purified of their imperfections and filtered of their failures, are the solutions to their own problems.<\/p>\n<p>Another ulterior purpose of the GHG Protocol and its carbon calculus is that, while it helps corporations appear environmentally virtuous by way of self-scrutiny and self-regulation, the goal is in fact to anticipate (and therefore lessen the impacts of) more strenuous scrutiny and regulations that may be introduced by governments and international organizations. This is straight out of the corporate playbook. Act, or be told how to act. Get out ahead and set the model. Then lobby policymakers to shape laws around the model that the corporations helped set in the first place.<\/p>\n<p>Political scientists have observed that, when it comes to global environmental governance, the GHG Protocol and related initiatives are not only about getting ahead of regulations. Private actors, such as corporations and entrepreneurs, are themselves becoming the regulators\u2014or at least they are exercising such strong influence over the regulatory process that the private actors are effectively in charge. In a way that mirrors (but inverts) responsibilization at the individual level, private firms are assuming \u201cduties normally considered the province of governments.\u201d Music\u2019s largest businesses may not be as active or influential in such processes when compared to a corporation like BP, but music is part of the same story.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">_______________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"276275\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/what-measuring-the-carbon-footprint-of-a-rock-concert-reveals-about-corporate-complicity\/recomposed\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/recomposed.jpg\" data-orig-size=\"600,917\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;,&quot;alt&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"recomposed\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/recomposed.jpg\" class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-276275\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/recomposed-196x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"196\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/recomposed-196x300.jpg 196w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/recomposed-39x60.jpg 39w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/recomposed-33x50.jpg 33w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/recomposed.jpg 600w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 196px) 100vw, 196px\" \/><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>From<\/em> <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781804298176\">Recomposed: Music, Climate, Crisis, Change<\/a> <em>by Kyle Devine. Copyright \u00a9 2026. Available from Verso Books.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Some of music\u2019s most exact measurements have been taken in relation to concerts. Spend any time looking at music from an environmental perspective and you are sure to learn that live music accounts for the majority of the industry\u2019s carbon<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":31835,"featured_media":276283,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43108,6,43094,43092],"tags":[43650,46867,18257,632,112044,109145,73275,112043,3147],"class_list":["post-276274","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-climate-change","category-features","category-music","category-newsandculture","tag-carbon-emissions","tag-climate-crisis","tag-concerts","tag-environmentalism","tag-kyle-devine","tag-live-music","tag-music-industry","tag-recomposed-music-climate-crisis-change","tag-verso-books","story-type-climate-crisis"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19S2","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/concert.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276274","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/31835"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276274"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276274\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276283"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276274"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276274"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276274"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276552,"date":"2026-09-03T04:56:29","date_gmt":"2026-09-03T08:56:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276552"},"modified":"2026-09-02T15:39:43","modified_gmt":"2026-09-02T19:39:43","slug":"the-independent-press-top-40-bestsellers-nonfiction-33","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-independent-press-top-40-bestsellers-nonfiction-33\/","title":{"rendered":"The Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers: Nonfiction"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Here are this week\u2019s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.indiepubs.org\/top40\">Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers<\/a> for nonfiction, based on sales in hundreds of independent bookstores nationwide, generously provided by the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.bookweb.org\/\">American Booksellers Association.<\/a> Compiled, designed, and distributed by <a href=\"https:\/\/www.indiepubs.org\/\">The Independent Publishers Caucus<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p>1. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781324098423\"><em>The Rise and Fall of the Artificial State<\/em><\/a> by Jill Lepore (Liveright)<br \/>\n2.\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781571313560\"><em>Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants<\/em><\/a> by Robin Wall Kimmerer (Milkweed)<br \/>\n3. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781324094647\"><em>The Gales of November: The Untold Story of the Edmund Fitzgerald<\/em><\/a> by John U. Bacon (Liveright)<br \/>\n4. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781806500253\"><em>Guinness World Records 2027<\/em><\/a> by Guinness World Records<br \/>\n5. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781324006848\"><em>The Book of Birds: A Field Guide to Wonder and Loss<\/em><\/a> by Robert Macfarlane, Jackie Morris (W.W. Norton)<br \/>\n6. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781324130482\"><em>No Prophets: The Fight to Save Democracy from Christian Nationalism<\/em><\/a> by Jared Huffman (W. W. Norton)<br \/>\n7. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9780393242133\"><em>Is a River Alive?<\/em><\/a> by Robert Macfarlane (W.W. Norton)<br \/>\n8. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781771642484\"><em>The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate\u2014Discoveries from a Secret World<\/em><\/a> by Peter Wohlleben (Greystone Books)<br \/>\n9. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781954118904\"><em>Forest Euphoria: The Abounding Queerness of Nature<\/em><\/a> by Patricia Ononiwu Kaishian (Spiegel &amp; Grau)<\/span><br \/>\n10. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781324131434\"><em>This Is The Plan: How to End America&#8217;s Meltdown and Save Democracy<\/em><\/a> by Ben Wikler (W. W. Norton)<br \/>\n11. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781644454008\"><em>Triage<\/em><\/a> by Claudia Rankine (Graywolf Press)<br \/>\n12. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781586424367\"><em>A Resistance History of the United States<\/em><\/a> by Tad Stoermer (Steerforth)<br \/>\n13. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781571311627\"><em>The Salt Stones: Seasons of a Shepherd&#8217;s Life<\/em><\/a> by Helen Whybrow (Milkweed Editions)<br \/>\n14. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781839762123\"><em>Mutual Aid: Building Solidarity During This Crisis (and the Next)<\/em><\/a> by Dean Spade\u00a0(Verso)<br \/>\n<\/span>15. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781324096320\"><em>The Wreck of the Mentor: A True Story of Death, Despair, and Deliverance in the Age of Sail<\/em><\/a> by Eric Jay Dolin (Liveright)<br \/>\n16. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780807014271\"><em>Man&#8217;s Search for Meaning<\/em><\/a> by Viktor E. Frankl (Beacon Press)<br \/>\n<\/span>17. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781631492228\"><em>S.P.Q.R.: A History of Ancient Rome<\/em><\/a> by Mary Beard (Liveright)<br \/>\n<\/span>18. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9780802165848\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>The Glorians: Visitations from the Holy Ordinary<\/em><\/a> by Terry Tempest Williams (Grove Press)<br \/>\n<\/span>19. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781941529089\"><em>How to Relax<\/em><\/a> (Mindfulness Essentials #5) by Thich Nhat Hanh (Parallax Press)<\/span><br \/>\n20. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781941529089\"><em>How to Relax: Hardcover Gift Edition<\/em><\/a> by Thich Nhat Hanh (Parallax Press)<\/span><span class=\"s1\"><br \/>\n<\/span>21. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781804290446\"><em>A Philosophy of Walking<\/em><\/a> by Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Gros, John Howe (Transl.)\u00a0(Verso)<br \/>\n<\/span>22. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780870714993\"><em>Gathering Moss: A Natural and Cultural History of Mosses<\/em><\/a> by Robin Wall Kimmerer (Oregon State University Press)<br \/>\n<\/span><span class=\"s1\">23. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9780226834245\"><em>Talking Classics: The Shock of the Old<\/em><\/a> by Mary Beard (University of Chicago Press)<br \/>\n<\/span>24. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9798893030822\"><em>A Brief History of the World in 47 Borders: Surprising Stories Behind the Lines on Our Maps<\/em><\/a> by Jonn Elledge (The Experiment)<\/span><br \/>\n25. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781324130765\"><em>These Truths: A History of the United States<\/em><\/a> by Jill Lepore (W. W. Norton)<br \/>\n26. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9780802158635\"><em>The Wretched of the Earth<\/em><\/a> by Frantz Fanon (Grove)<br \/>\n<\/span>27. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781598538298\"><em>Ursula K. Le Guin&#8217;s Book of Cats<\/em><\/a> by Ursula K. Le Guin (Library of America)<br \/>\n<\/span>28. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781324089315\"><em>Dangerous, Dirty, Violent, and Young: A Fugitive Family in the Revolutionary Underground<\/em><\/a> by Zayd Ayers Dohrn (W. W. Norton)<br \/>\n29. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9780393292596\"><em>Tequila Wars: Jos\u00e9 Cuervo and the Bloody Struggle for the Spirit of Mexico<\/em><\/a> by Ted Genoways (W. W. Norton)<br \/>\n30. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9798888904510\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>The Beginning Comes After the End: Notes on a World of Change<\/em><\/a> by Rebecca Solnit (Haymarket Books)<br \/>\n<\/span>31. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781937006884\"><em>How to Love (Mindfulness Essentials #3)<\/em><\/a> by Thich Nhat Hanh, Jason DeAntonis (Illus.) (Parallax Press)<\/span><br \/>\n32. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781556520747\"><em>Assata: An Autobiography<\/em><\/a> by Assata Shakur (Lawrence Hill Books)<br \/>\n33. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781683695097\"><em>Reality TV for Snobs: Everything You Need to Know About the Shows You&#8217;re Too Intellectual to Watch<\/em><\/a> (The Outsider&#8217;s Guides) by Ali Barthwell (Quirk Books)<br \/>\n34. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781324078777\"><em>Planet Money: A Guide to the Economic Forces That Shape Your Life<\/em><\/a> by Alex Mayyasi, Hosts of NPR&#8217;s Planet Money (W. W. Norton)<\/span><br \/>\n35. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781626251700\"><em>Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents: How to Heal from Distant, Rejecting, or Self-Involved Parents<\/em><\/a> by Lindsay C. Gibson (New Harbinger Publications)<br \/>\n36. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781645475248\"><em>The Wave in the Mind: Imagination and the Art of Writing and Reading<\/em><\/a> by Ursula K. Le Guin (Shambhala)<\/span><br \/>\n37. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9798299288339\"><em>Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies<\/em><\/a> by Ph.D. Diamond, Jared (Norton)<br \/>\n38. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9780571395514\"><em>What Art Does: An Unfinished Theory<\/em><\/a> by Brian Eno, Bette Adriaanse (Faber &amp; Faber)<br \/>\n39. <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9781631496080\"><em>We the People: A History of the U.S. Constitution<\/em><\/a> by Jill Lepore (Liveright)<br \/>\n40. <span class=\"s1\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9798893310153\"><em>Don&#8217;t Believe Everything You Think: Why Your Thinking Is The Beginning &amp; End Of Suffering<\/em><\/a> by Joseph Nguyen (Authors Equity)<\/span><span class=\"s1\"><br \/>\n<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">_________________________________________<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.indiepubs.org\/top40\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"265820\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-independent-press-top-40-bestsellers-fiction\/untitled-design-1-468\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Untitled-design-2-1.jpg\" data-orig-size=\"824,476\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;Jonny Diamond&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;Untitled design - 1&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"Untitled design &amp;#8211; 1\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Untitled-design-2-1.jpg\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-265820\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Untitled-design-2-1.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"194\" height=\"112\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Untitled-design-2-1.jpg 824w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Untitled-design-2-1-300x173.jpg 300w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Untitled-design-2-1-768x444.jpg 768w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Untitled-design-2-1-60x35.jpg 60w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/01\/Untitled-design-2-1-50x29.jpg 50w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 194px) 100vw, 194px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Here are this week\u2019s Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers for nonfiction, based on sales in hundreds of independent bookstores nationwide, generously provided by the American Booksellers Association. Compiled, designed, and distributed by The Independent Publishers Caucus. * 1. The Rise<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":74,"featured_media":266893,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43069,6,43070,43135],"tags":[33671,112139,107978,111687,3391],"class_list":["post-276552","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-craftandcriticism","category-features","category-literary-criticism","category-readinglists","tag-bestsellers","tag-independent-bestsellers","tag-independent-press-top-40-bestsellers","tag-ipc-bestsellers","tag-small-presses","story-type-independent-press","story-type-independent-publishers","story-type-nonfiction","story-type-top-40-bestsellers"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19Ww","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/NONFICTION-BESTSELLER.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276552","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/74"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276552"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276552\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/266893"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276552"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276552"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276552"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":275670,"date":"2026-09-03T04:24:58","date_gmt":"2026-09-03T08:24:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=275670"},"modified":"2026-08-31T12:25:43","modified_gmt":"2026-08-31T16:25:43","slug":"dogs-in-guatemala","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/dogs-in-guatemala\/","title":{"rendered":"\u201cDogs in Guatemala\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Dogs in Guatemala are like this. It\u2019s what Molly would tell the teenage student beside her, weeping in the street over yet one more brutalized stray, if only it weren\u2019t the worst possible time to stop and give explanations.<\/p>\n<p>Molly touches the girl\u2019s sharp-boned back. \u201cCome on, Naomi. We shouldn\u2019t just hang around.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Naomi\u2019s knees thump the pavement. With a half-suppressed wail, she reaches after the dog. His muzzle inside an old bean can, he wanders the edge of this scruffy park: no sound but the clank of the can on hard dirt, the dog\u2019s tail dragging and rustling like a sullied white train. Cocker spaniel, most likely\u2014one of the cute, cuddly breeds the dog vendors specialize in. By day the vendors camp out in this park, middle-aged women who stand on the curb with crates of wriggling dogs at their feet. They\u2019ll dangle a fat furry handful of cocker spaniel or poodle over the morning-rush traffic. Sometimes they set a couple of puppies atop a high stack of boxes, so high the dogs cannot jump down.<\/p>\n<p>For two years, Molly has seen this. After breakfast, once the sun\u2019s up\u2014when it\u2019s safer\u2014she walks from the Peace Action apartment in Zona 1, Guatemala City\u2019s decrepit old heart, to buy the paper in Parque Central. She reads it aloud to her teammates, who have lived here so long they dream nightly in Spanish and are saddened but no longer shocked by the news: university students kidnapped as they step off their campus; a well-known journalist\u2019s house set on fire; a judge on the Constitutional Court shot through the head in his driveway. Reporting these matters to Peace Action\u2019s Washington office, or to people who come on two-week learning tours, is Molly\u2019s job. <em>Here is what happened, and how, and to whom.<\/em> The follow-up question must always be,<em> What can we do about it?<\/em> Americans who hear, or better yet see, the human effects of this war will\u2014it is hoped\u2014protest their government\u2019s funding of it, the weapons and military training that the U.S. supplies.<\/p>\n<p>The dog hawkers, however, don\u2019t fit into any Peace Action report or lecture to visiting students. They are one of the sights Molly tries to pass with lowered eyes, the dogs aquiver on their wobbly box towers, stranded in midair. Now here, before daybreak, is one of their lot\u2014a runaway, or forgotten?\u2014snuffling among empty Tortrix bags and day-old tabloids that litter the park, and no one\u2019s around except Molly, who wants to keep moving, and this young college student supposedly in her care.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can\u2019t leave you out here alone,\u201d Molly says.<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s the end of the third decade of civil war in Guatemala, the tenth year of the military\u2019s scorched-earth campaign. They have burned whole towns to ashes, along with the<\/p>\n<p>people inside. <em>Draining the ocean to eliminate certain fish, <\/em>as one General notoriously put it. Meanwhile death squads patrol these streets every night, in black Chevy vans with black-tinted windows\u2014hunting down activists, union leaders, reporters. Anyone who might still support the guerrillas and their revolution, which systematically is being wiped out.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPoor puppy, can\u2019t we help him?\u201d Naomi begs from her knees. \u201cLook at him. He must be lost.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Minutes ago, Molly arrived at Casa San Juan, the guesthouse where Peace Action\u2019s visitors stay, to have an early breakfast with this delegation of students. But the first thing the other kids said was that Naomi had coaxed one of the cook staff to let her outside so she could go for a jog<em>. <\/em>Molly turned and banged out the door and didn\u2019t stop running till she saw the ponytailed figure, silver and gleaming in her Gore-Tex tracksuit, crouched at the edge of this park.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe can\u2019t do anything for him,\u201d says Molly. \u201cWe need to get off the street.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Aware of them now, the dog shakes loose the can\u2014his forelock matted, his jowl smeared with beans\u2014and shrinks into the trees with a whimper that makes something tighten in Molly\u2019s own chest. She could pick him up in one sweep, zip him into the front of her sweatshirt.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh my God,\u201d gasps Naomi. Dropping onto all fours, she follows the puppy farther into the park. The tattered cypresses and long-needle pines damp out the shine of her tracksuit, closing swiftly around dog and girl.<\/p>\n<p>Molly runs both hands through her hair. \u201cGive me a fucking break.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>No one but the rats enjoys being out after dark in Zona 1. Under most circumstances, Molly would stride at a good clip; she\u2019d grip her Mace or her pocketknife. Yet she chased Naomi without a thing in her hands, no thought in her head but to bring this girl back, and now the image she\u2019s pushed down for an hour won\u2019t leave her alone anymore: the man who spent the past night at her house, in secret. A member of the guerrillas, who arrived after supper and bedded down on Peace Action\u2019s spare cot.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s just on his way through,\u201d Rub\u00e9n said when Molly answered his knock yesterday. \u201cHe needs a hiding place just for tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>To ask for this favor in person, Rub\u00e9n had come from his human rights office in Zona 9, one of the new neighborhoods wheeling out from the city\u2019s old center like a graph of centrifugal force. He never said <em>guerrillas<\/em>, of course. Among themselves, they say los compa\u00f1eros, or los envueltos, <em>the involved ones. <\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cRub\u00e9n, no s\u00e9,\u201d Molly told him. \u201cWe\u2019re here to work with civilians, you know that. We have to act like we\u2019re neutral.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Rub\u00e9n sank his voice lower. \u201cI\u2019m sorry to ask. We would do it ourselves, but\u2014we can\u2019t keep him this time.\u201d Around his lips, his skin had gone pale as the color of scars. \u201cWe think he\u2019s been seen at our place.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBring him, then,\u201d Molly said. \u201cJust for one night.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The guerrilla had come to the Peace Action house around nightfall, looking strained and half-starved in his borrowed clothing: a pair of khakis several sizes too big and a polo washed thin. He slept on the cot and left again early this morning, before Molly did, presumably looking the same. During his refuge with them, the man barely opened his mouth. Feeling equally tense, Molly and her teammates hadn\u2019t tried to make conversation.<\/p>\n<p>But the guerrilla will not stay quiet inside Molly\u2019s mind; he keeps moving in back of her eyes. \u201cNaomi!\u201d she calls in a whisper. \u201cLet that dog be, and come on.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Molly takes a step into the park; it\u2019s like wading into cold water. She finds Naomi kneeling on dirty grass by a bench, under which the puppy keeps up his whine.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat were you thinking, coming out at this hour?\u201d Molly says to her back.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI needed to get <em>out<\/em>. To do something, for once, on my own.\u201d Naomi pokes head and shoulders under the bench.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, you can\u2019t,\u201d Molly says, wincing. She has failed to explain that men use parks pretty freely as open-air urinals. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t. Not without one of us.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>As if from a distance, she can see how this looks: the moon scraping the apartment block roofs behind them, throwing the last of its light on a frightened dog and two foreign women, none of whom where they ought to be. From an open window one street away, ranchera music drifts through the trees. Molly feels so exposed, she might as well be walking around with her skin peeled from her bones.<\/p>\n<p>Then she hears something else. <em>Psst, gringas, grin-guiiitas<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>She spins around, scanning the brink of the park and beyond it the poorly lit street, narrow as a tight-lipped frown.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cV\u00e1yanse a casa, gringuitas.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>This antagonist, surely, is just a generic catcaller. Surely no one\u2019s been watching <em>her<\/em> house.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGo home, gringas,\u201d sings the man in the dark. \u201cWe know you\u2019re up to no good.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Naomi withdraws her head from under the bench. \u201cWhat\u2019s that guy saying? What\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNothing,\u201d says Molly, and hauls her up by the elbow. It\u2019s a mercy this girl speaks no Spanish. She doesn\u2019t let go till they\u2019re out of the park and making for Casa San Juan. As far as she knows, no one follows.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s not fair. It\u2019s so awful.\u201d Naomi sounds teary. \u201cI hate how people treat their animals here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Molly counts her days left with this group of students: ten down, two to go. <em>Changing hearts, changing policy<\/em>, is Peace Action\u2019s slogan, and while convincing a Congressional aide or a <em>New York Times <\/em>reporter to join their delegations would be ideal, it\u2019s mainly church groups and university clubs that promote global awareness. The visit, for some, is too much. After days in Guatemala City\u2019s orphan-filled slums and internal refugee camps, there\u2019s often someone who ends like Naomi: fixating on animal life. It\u2019s as if they give up, Molly privately thinks. They squeeze a week\u2019s accumulation of horror and grief onto the dogs or the cats\u2014objects of suffering that still make some sense. Whose pain is small enough to imagine.<\/p>\n<p>Some of her own teammates show signs of weakening, too. Only this month, Dean had to dash from the cineplex during the goriest scene of <em>Platoon<\/em>, to be sick in the manicured bushes of Zona 10. And Yvette will not leave the house after dark anymore, not since she saw a student outside the Universidad de San Carlos get taken by a death squad.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe froze when he saw them,\u201d Yvette kept repeating when she got home. \u201cHe just fucking froze.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy didn\u2019t he run?\u201d Molly said. She couldn\u2019t get over this detail. \u201cI would\u2019ve run.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t know what you\u2019d do, if it was you.\u201d Yvette slapped the table between them. \u201cIf you resist, those guys break your legs. <em>Then<\/em> they can get you in their van.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou could at least try,\u201d Molly countered, feeling she\u2019d been struck herself.<\/p>\n<p>But the next day, when Yvette wouldn\u2019t get out of bed, not even for dinner, Molly found herself praying again, a practice she thought she\u2019d abandoned along with her redneck hometown.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you ever think,\u201d Yvette said that night, when Molly brought her a tray, \u201cthis isn\u2019t our war? It isn\u2019t our country. What are we doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>In her darker moments, Molly does wonder. What is Peace Action for? What has she really accomplished? They\u2019re educating a few dozen gringos a year on U.S. policy in Guatemala, preaching the gospel of solidarity to people who already believe. But Molly didn\u2019t answer Yvette, and Yvette rolled away toward the wall.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe ought to think about leaving,\u201d she said when she finally got up. \u201cIt\u2019s getting too dangerous here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>No, Molly thinks, hurrying Naomi on toward the guesthouse. When she joined Peace Action, she signed on for three years; they all did. No matter what Yvette says, Molly\u2019s not backing out now. You just have to say to yourself, my life in this country is going to be different. Then you move on; you keep going.<\/p>\n<p><em>Dogs in Guatemala are like this<\/em>. Their downstairs neighbors have acquired a dog of their own, a hulking black Rottweiler mix. Whenever they leave the building, Tom\u00e1s and Olga unleash the dog in their foyer, unshutter the iron-barred window in their front door. Let someone walk by within twenty feet: the dog hits that door like a cannonball. It must be dented on the other side. He doesn\u2019t just bark, he roars. He dives through the window at the top of the door as far as his huge head permits\u2014fangs bared, eyes rolling. Perhaps he\u2019s lost his mind. When he\u2019s not playing guard, the dog is kept penned up, alone\u2014Tom\u00e1s and Olga freely admit\u2014in an air shaft in back of their rooms. Coming and going, Molly cannot avoid him; he sprays her with drool every time. But she cannot get used to him, either, can\u2019t stop her adrenaline blazing.<\/p>\n<p>Molly pats Naomi on her Gore-Tex sleeve, where a reflective stripe glints as they pass this block\u2019s streetlight. Then she drops her view to the gutter, and for a single cold moment all conscious thought stops. There\u2019s just enough light to see a man sprawled there, face-up, arms flung in surrender. His eyes are open as the eyes of a fish, boned and gutted and laid out on ice, and where his throat used to be is a dark open welt, like a mouth underneath his real mouth. His polo shirt at the waist is still yellow, but from collar to chest it is flushing with blood, wet and shining.<\/p>\n<p>Molly jerks to a halt before her mind catches up. It\u2019s true, at this hour, in this city, corpses show up\u2014members of activist groups in the gorge behind the National Cemetery, street kids by the municipal dump\u2014but not here, not in this neighborhood where she lives, nearly at the doorstep of Casa San Juan. So far, not here.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat is it?\u201d Naomi asks, blinking.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNothing,\u201d says Molly again.<\/p>\n<p>Holding on to the girl, she picks up the pace. The man lies a few yards behind them, but the image stains her field of vision. Yellow shirt, yellow shirt still yellow above his beltline, yellow shirt turning black-red. Did <em>he<\/em> wear a yellow shirt this morning? Has she just seen him\u2014the clandestine soldier, the man she harbored last night? In the two years she\u2019s lived here, Molly has not said the word <em>guerrilla <\/em>aloud. One of the many small safety measures she and her team try to take. But if that really was him in the gutter, if he got his throat slit as he left her house, what do such precautions matter? Who\u2019s to say the army\u2019s henchmen are not stalking her now?<\/p>\n<p>So this is how she might die. Today, in the street before breakfast, taking an innocent bystander in a Gore-Tex tracksuit down with her. Because these may be her last moments, Molly sees everything almost too clearly, as if someone has floodlit this city block: the crumbling colonial mansion repurposed as a triple-X movie theater; a sheaf of bougainvillea bursting over the wall of someone\u2019s secluded front yard.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re hurting me.\u201d Naomi pulls free of her grasp. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Just keep moving, thinks Molly. As the old theater and the wall with its cascade of flowers slide slowly past, she says nothing more\u2014sees nothing but the bluish fluorescent glow through a distant grilled window, brightening with each step, that she knows to be Casa San Juan\u2019s.<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p>Molly\u2019s own mother remains in a state of denial about where Molly has gone. \u201cWe\u2019re having the most beautiful sunset this evening, aren\u2019t you?\u201d she\u2019ll ask on a June phone call. And Molly will say for the ninety-ninth time, \u201cThis isn\u2019t Oregon, Mom. We\u2019re closer to the equator, right? The sun sets much earlier here.\u201d But Molly\u2019s mother isn\u2019t ashamed. She says, \u201cOh, I can\u2019t keep track of these things.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>When she left the States to work for Peace Action, Molly had felt to the soles of her feet that it was the right thing to do. If President Reagan was bent on calling the war in Guatemala an issue of good versus evil\u2014with America, as always, on the right side\u2014and if many Americans were too dumb to challenge this point, she\u2019d at least do her part to prove him and his acolytes wrong. She\u2019d go and <em>live <\/em>in that war zone. She was full of her sense of good-doing, of worthwhile adventure. No matter if some people at home believed her insane, basically.<\/p>\n<p>Even Dra. N\u00fa\u00f1ez, her old Spanish professor, balked at the notion when Molly went to tell her goodbye. \u201cI\u2019ll picket and protest from this side of the border till I turn blue,\u201d she said. \u201cBut going to Guatemala these days? Querida m\u00eda, not on your life.\u201d She held Molly\u2019s arms, then shook them like a loose pair of reins. \u201cYou know you\u2019re not invincible, don\u2019t you? It must be those damn cowboy movies you white people watch.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Molly walked away from that exchange slightly angry and flushed. She had been twenty-four then: too na\u00efve to be scared, or so Dra. N\u00fa\u00f1ez seemed to imply. Too young to measure the risk.<\/p>\n<p>And yet, hadn\u2019t she at the start been in love with that risk, with the sense of herself as endangered? However slightly, however improbably. Which\u2014it seems obvious now\u2014is the only way to love danger.<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p>Stucco over cinderblock, one square window behind ornate bars: Casa San Juan resembles all other buildings on this stretch of Sexta Calle. When Molly pushes the bell, the housekeeper, Gregoria, slides open a panel about six inches high in the door. Visitors give their names through this slot, to be checked against a list the guesthouse updates every day. But Gregoria knows Molly well.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAdelante,\u201d she says, holding the front door ajar.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPlease, I need the phone,\u201d Molly says.<\/p>\n<p>Gregoria points her to the kitchen, where the old-fashioned black telephone hangs by the stove. Receiver pressed to one cheek, Molly listens to the bleat at the line\u2019s other end, in the Peace Action apartment.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u00bfA-l\u00f3?\u201d says Yvette, her voice cracked with sleep.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s me,\u201d Molly says. As if it\u2019s been etched on the brick wall beside her, she sees the image she must convey. But language sticks in her throat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMolly? What\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>I saw a dead man\u2014a murdered man\u2014near our house.<\/em> It\u2019s not something one says on the phone, not directly. For such occasions, she and her team have evolved a rough code. \u201cG\u201d for <em>guerrilla<\/em>, \u201cSmurfs\u201d for <em>the cops<\/em>. But what do they call a dead body?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYvette. I saw\u2014I saw a blackbird this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Between them, the phone line buzzes: empty air. Then again, probably not empty. Someone else, some government spy, almost always is listening in.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou saw a what?\u201d Yvette says.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA blackbird. I saw a blackbird.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh.\u201d Molly hears the meaning slam into Yvette. \u201cOh, holy Mother of God.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s too strong a response; they both know it. Somewhere nearby, in a dark office, an eavesdropping oreja has just jerked to attention on his hard little chair.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot\u2014not the G? Was it the G?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Molly says, fighting tears. <em>Send me a sign<\/em>, she started praying a few weeks ago. Should she have prayed differently? \u201cI couldn\u2019t see. It might have been.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHoly Mother,\u201d Yvette says again, muffled\u2014perhaps speaking through her own hand.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cListen,\u201d Molly says. \u201cI just wanted to tell you\u2014stay put this morning. And maybe don\u2019t answer the door.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut\u2014where was he? I mean\u2014it? The, uh, the blackbird.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>By the street. In the gutter.<\/em> These verbal stratagems seem so pathetic. Can\u2019t a well-trained oreja hear through their code? <em>At the corner of Sixth Street and Third Avenue. <\/em>But that\u2019s no better, giving coordinates over the phone.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYvette? I should tell you the details in person.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cRight. I can\u2019t think. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll be home soon. I\u2019m just checking in. Try to get hold of yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut we should tell someone\u2014do something\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou should get off the phone. Take a breath. Go lie down.\u201d It\u2019s the wrong suggestion to make to Yvette. \u201cBetter yet, go do some work.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll send Dean over, to walk you back home.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I don\u2019t need that,\u201d says Molly. \u201cI\u2019ll be there in ten minutes, tops.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>In Casa San Juan\u2019s vestibule, she rings for Gregoria to unlock the door. But it\u2019s Naomi who rounds the hall corner\u2014changed into jeans and a bright Maya vest from the city market.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI overheard you just now, in the kitchen,\u201d she says. \u201cYou were reporting what we saw outside?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSomething like that,\u201d Molly says.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut we saw a puppy. Why did you keep saying <em>bird<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>In lieu of an answer, Molly jiggles the doorknob. It\u2019s pointless: it\u2019s locked. Why won\u2019t Gregoria come save her?<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t you trust me?\u201d Naomi insists. \u201cIs it because I freaked out?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s not that,\u201d Molly says. \u201cThat happens.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI know you saw something else.\u201d Naomi leans closer, but her eyes are too dark\u2014a brown moving toward black, too much like the eyes of that other as the streetlight had caught them. Brown and round with surprise. \u201cI came to Guatemala to <em>know<\/em> things. Not to have you cover my ears half the time. I didn\u2019t come here to be protected.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s not always a bad thing,\u201d says Molly.<\/p>\n<p>Last month, when someone broke into Tom\u00e1s and Olga\u2019s apartment and wrecked it\u2014hurled cups and plates to the floor, hacked sofa cushions with a machete\u2014everyone in their building knew it was no random act. Tom\u00e1s, the leader of a labor union, has received death threats before; the break-in was one final warning. Nobody called the city police; the police, controlled by the army, were likely in on the crime. But a day later, the furious Rottweiler took up his post in the foyer.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAi, perd\u00f3n, se\u00f1orita. Sorry to keep you here waiting.\u201d Like a godsend Gregoria appears at a jog, her ring of keys chiming. But she stops when she sees Molly\u2019s face. \u201c\u00bfC\u00f3mo se encuentra?\u201d <em>Are you all right?<\/em> \u201cWhen you went after that jovencita\u201d\u2014Gregoria cuts her eyes at Naomi\u2014\u201cdid something happen out there?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh,\u201d Molly says, aware of Naomi watching and listening, even if she can\u2019t follow each word. \u201cI saw\u2014we saw\u2014a lost dog in the park.\u201d In a way, it\u2019s the truth: the part she\u2019s able to tell. But the weight of the real story, the one she\u2019ll leave out, sits like a stone in her skull. \u201cThe dog made us feel sad,\u201d Molly says.<\/p>\n<p>Gregoria nods, grim but unfazed. \u201cYou should rest. You should sit for a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Molly says, \u201cI\u2019ll be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTake these, at least.\u201d Gregoria produces a compact small bundle, wrapped in a striped servilleta<em>.<\/em> \u201cTortillas from breakfast. You\u2019ll eat them, won\u2019t you? Your students aren\u2019t eating them. But all of you in Peace Action do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Molly looks past the bundle to Gregoria\u2019s huipil, embroidered with blue and green birds in the style of Gregoria\u2019s hometown in the mountains, which she fled six years ago. Perhaps this huipil is the one she put on that final morning, before the first gunshots, not yet guessing what the day held.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow do you stand it?\u201d Molly hears herself say.<\/p>\n<p>She\u2019d bet a thousand quetzals Gregoria knows what she means. Gregoria, who lost the rest of her family in the space of an hour. But Gregoria shakes her head slightly and fits the warm pack of tortillas into Molly\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHold on to this,\u201d she instructs, as if it\u2019s one possible answer, because there\u2019s no possible answer. And lets Molly outside again.<\/p>\n<p>Below the door, Sexta Calle still lies in shadow, but the tops of buildings across the street are slashed with pink light, and Molly breathes in the morning: woodsmoke and parched corn from a dozen elote stands; a chemical whiff of the city dump, heating up; papaya and pineapple rinds in the gutters, shedding their distinctive smells. Putrescence and sweetness at once. And beneath this torrent of odors, something else, something new, a fetor like wet ink or mud, or like a fish just after it\u2019s caught.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re keeping secrets,\u201d Naomi says from the doorway behind her. \u201cI know you\u2019re not telling me something.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Molly says curtly, \u201cThat isn\u2019t your business.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The girl makes a sound of disgust. Could she be the sign Molly\u2019s seeking\u2014an accusatory spirit in a Maya vest, come to prove that whatever good Molly thought she was doing is, after all, fantasy?<\/p>\n<p>Naomi says, \u201cIt feels like you\u2019re choosing what the rest of us do and don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t be silly.\u201d Molly keeps walking away. \u201cYou don\u2019t always get to choose what you know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p>She goes home a roundabout way, past the intersection where street kids juggle limes, past the corner of teenaged fire-eaters\u2014whose trick is first washing their mouths with lighter fluid. On the next block she says <em>No gracias <\/em>but nods to the flower sellers who walk with arms stretched to encompass paper cones full of roses, like the wings of birds spread to show off their pied undersides. <em>Rosas, rosas, muy finas rosas. <\/em>Roses in the colors of the rainbow\u2019s top half.<\/p>\n<p>Molly follows the street lined with optical shops, then the calle of cheap Chinese restaurants. She cuts through Parque Central, where the boys who hang out at the taxi stand shout <em>\u00bfTaxi? \u00bfTaxi?<\/em> no matter how often they\u2019ve seen her before and know that she likes to walk. <em>\u00bfLe ayudo, se\u00f1orita?<\/em> Need some help, se\u00f1orita, you need a ride? They live, it seems, for the purpose of hailing all passersby who might be on their way someplace else.<\/p>\n<p>This hour of day, as Guate sloughs off the dark, Molly remembers why she has loved living here. Parts of this world still go on giving her pleasure, and when people ask what these are\u2014as some Peace Action delegates do, once the rush of arrival wears off\u2014what<\/p>\n<p>makes her list? Semana Santa, for one: the whole decadent week. Fog on the Cuchumatanes. That time she and Yvette watched a sea turtle at Monterrico waddle onshore to lay her eggs on the beach. The bus ride from Guate to Huehue, if she gets a seat by the window. Lake Atitl\u00e1n, that one\u2019s easy. Anywhere, really, on Lake Atitl\u00e1n. The way people here take her into their homes with such kindness and grace. Once, these felt like an endless plenty: reasons enough to remain.<\/p>\n<p>But at the junction of Sexta Calle and Tercera Avenida, Molly\u2019s feet drag. Up this street, an hour ago, she\u2019d seen the man in the gutter. Had he seen her, too? She can\u2019t shake the feeling that he had stared back.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u00bfSe\u00f1orita?\u201d says someone above Molly\u2019s head. \u201cSe\u00f1orita, are you unwell?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Molly finds herself sitting on the stoop of Pizza City, a hole-in-the-wall restaurant where she sometimes eats lunch. Looking up, now, at its owner.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCon permiso, Do\u00f1a Marta, sorry. I guess I felt faint.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Do\u00f1a Marta steadies her as she stands. \u201c\u00bfVerdad que est\u00e1s bien?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d Molly assures her. But the bundle of tortillas weighs more than it should as she turns toward her apartment again.<\/p>\n<p>Now here comes Yvette, walking swiftly with her head down. <em>I thought we agreed you\u2019d stay put this morning<\/em>, Molly starts to say. Then she sees the red plastic dustpan in Yvette\u2019s hand. Yvette has been sweeping the steps of their building. \u201cMakes me feel more like a Guatemalan housewife. Like I fit in,\u201d she\u2019s been known to explain, though Yvette\u2019s humor\u2014as with her step-sweeping routine\u2014has grown increasingly sparse.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cFeeling better?\u201d asks Molly.<\/p>\n<p>Yvette\u2019s face looks bloodless beneath her suntan, and she holds the dustpan out strangely, like a tray she must balance, with the dustpan brush laid on top. She shoves Molly backward, through Pizza City\u2019s front door.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBetter come with me,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n<p>Apologizing to Do\u00f1a Marta\u2014<em>Con permiso, ya regresamos<\/em>\u2014Yvette aims for the bathroom in back, and Molly begins to guess why. Some topics they cannot discuss in their house. They dodge tables of Zona 1 office workers eating eggs, drinking coffee\u2014there\u2019s no pizza served until lunch\u2014and step over the semi-feral black cat who prowls the floor, hunting scraps<em>.<\/em> Yvette opens the door to Pizza City\u2019s lone toilet, engulfing them in a bouquet of Pine-Sol and damp cinderblock and the earthier smell of the small weedy lot where the bathroom\u2019s rear wall ought to be. Every year there\u2019s a half-dozen kittens growing up here; they meet you, en masse, at the door. Today, however, sensing the panic as Yvette and Molly whirl in, the kittens scatter back into the weeds.<\/p>\n<p>With one hand Yvette slides the bolt; in the other, she keeps the dustpan horizontal. Then she notices Molly\u2019s own cargo. \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTortillas. From Gregoria\u2014from Casa San Juan.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>In response, Yvette gives her dustpan a shake. Something rattles against its hard sides.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s <em>that<\/em>?\u201d Molly asks.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh,\u201d says Yvette, extending the pan. She lifts the brush off what it\u2019s been hiding.<\/p>\n<p>Teeth. Human teeth? Teeth, all by themselves. Five\u2014no, six of them. Molly at first can\u2019t attach any meaning to this.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d she says. Then she says it again, as if she can refuse the sight.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI went down to sweep the front steps, and there they were, waiting.\u201d Yvette keeps her gaze on the pan. \u201cThey were arranged, in a half-circle. Like a little half-moon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The teeth are dry, small irregular cubes, light yellow against the red pan. Their roots are jagged, dark brown. By themselves, the teeth look obscene. They belong to somebody, to somebody\u2019s body; they should be inside someone\u2019s head.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMolars, mostly. Though I think that\u2019s an incisor.\u201d Yvette pokes at it with the end of the brush. \u201cIt\u2019s a threat, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t know they\u2019re for us,\u201d Molly says. \u201cWe\u2019re not the only people who live in that building.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLike getting someone else\u2019s mail by mistake?\u201d Yvette shifts the dustpan to her other hand; the teeth make a soft sizzling noise as they slide across the pan\u2019s surface. \u201cWell, there\u2019s one cultural-sensitivity issue they didn\u2019t address in our training.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGod, Yvette. This is no time to joke.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m not joking. The army wants you and me gone?\u201d Yvette sounds angry again. \u201cThen I\u2019m gone. I\u2019m fucking out of this place.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut let\u2019s think for a second,\u201d says Molly. \u201cMaybe that isn\u2019t right.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou think these were meant for Tom\u00e1s and Olga, instead?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Molly says weakly, knowing she\u2019s grasping at straws, \u201cWell, why not? As likely for them as for us.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cExcept\u201d\u2014Yvette drops her voice\u2014\u201cexcept <em>they<\/em> didn\u2019t just have a G spend the night at their place.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Yesterday morning, when Rub\u00e9n arrived with his urgent request, Molly hadn\u2019t asked how he knew their house was safer than his for sheltering a guerrilla. Perhaps already he understood what Molly is starting to now, that no matter what crosses your mind when you find a handful of human teeth at your door\u2014whether you respond with revulsion or pity\u2014what lingers is the impression, <em>It might be me, the next time. <\/em><\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe\u2019ve got to stop fooling ourselves,\u201d Yvette says. \u201cGod help me live through this day, and I\u2019m buying a plane ticket home.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d Molly whispers. \u201cPlease, Yvette, wait.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>But they are on borrowed minutes, locked inside the only bathroom at a busy hour, and someone outside shakes the door. Yvette moves to unbolt it, holding the dustpan behind her.<\/p>\n<p>Molly reaches after her, catches the edge of the pan. \u201cEsp\u00e9rese, por fa\u2019,\u201d she shouts toward the door. To Yvette she says, \u201cPlease fucking wait for one second.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They stand holding the dustpan between them. \u201cWait for what?\u201d Yvette says.<\/p>\n<p>Molly forces herself to look again at the teeth. Woman or man? Young or old? Chosen for having done what, or been who?<\/p>\n<p>She says, \u201cWe should bury them.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>A few feet past the toilet, the floor drops off into dirt, as if the builders simultaneously wearied of pouring cement and ran out of cinderblocks for the back wall. The tin roof ends in midair, just above Molly\u2019s head. The result is this odd slice of land, wedged between Pizza City and the rear of some other building, unused except by the cats and overgrown with birds of paradise, banana trees\u2014plants that spring up anywhere. Balancing Gregoria\u2019s tortillas carefully on her knees, Molly squats at the edge of this lot. At the base of a banana tree sapling, she digs out a hole with her nails.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf you do that,\u201d says Yvette, watching, \u201cwe\u2019ll never have evidence.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The ground is rough on the surface, bruising Molly\u2019s fingers, but inches below it gives way, comes up in damp loamy clumps. \u201cEvidence for who?\u201d Molly says.<\/p>\n<p>Even now, they speak under breaths. The person outside this thin metal door\u2014the diners who sit near it, too\u2014must be aware of them talking. What kind of people rush into a public toilet and frenetically whisper? Mainly people up to no good. Their door-rattler bangs with both fists.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cUn momento,\u201d Molly yells over her shoulder. Everything, suddenly, depends on this task.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cChrist, I don\u2019t know,\u201d Yvette murmurs. But she hands over the pan.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, I do know,\u201d says Molly. She pours the teeth into the hole she has made. They crowd and click against one another, they spatter into the earth. Down there in the dirt, the teeth appear harmless as pebbles. \u201cIt\u2019s the right thing to do.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>A year from now, this banana plant will be twice as tall. Its roots will spread over the teeth and protect them, secretly hold them. Molly scoops loosened soil back in place, tamps it down. Should they speak some words over these teeth\u2014some sort of blessing or prayer? The only words she can find are <em>I do know. I know<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>On their way out of the restaurant, they buy Fantas from Do\u00f1a Marta as repayment for use of her room. But they set their bottles down a block from their building, beside a pair of adolescent glue-sniffers drowsing against a brick wall. They drift among small fleets of schoolgirls who head to class in matching knee socks and kilts, some holding hands as girls at home seldom do.<\/p>\n<p>Molly\u2019s mind stays on what she has buried. She will always know where those teeth are; she will always see the man in the gutter. \u201cYou don\u2019t get to choose what you know,\u201d she told Naomi today, only to hear a final retort\u2014\u201cBullshit\u201d\u2014flung at her back. In the country where they both come from, Molly might take her point. Maybe, in a life where you can watch the world\u2019s miseries from your sofa, Naomi is right. Naomi, who is luckier and also less so than she thinks.<\/p>\n<p>When Molly holds out her empty hand, Yvette stares at it, then shoves her dustpan under one arm, laces her fingers through Molly\u2019s. For a minute they\u2019re linked, walking like Guatemalan schoolgirls with their arms in a tight V between them. As they near their door, pop music unspools from the windows of their apartment into the street. Dean is playing Molly\u2019s Sting album again. <em>\u00bfPor qu\u00e9 est\u00e1n aqu\u00ed, danzando solas? \u00bfPor qu\u00e9 hay tristeza en sus miradas?<\/em> One of those songs that moved her, two years ago\u2014that sent her head-long and hopeful into this job, to this place. Though Sting\u2019s Spanish sounds a bit off, Molly has always respected the effort. <em>Why are these women here, dancing all alone? Why is there sadness in their eyes?<\/em> As good a point as any for an outsider to start: with a question, then with another.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe\u2019ll be all right,\u201d says Yvette, letting go of her hand. \u201cNow that we\u2019re going home soon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Home, Molly thinks. What home does she want anymore? It\u2019s true, no one asked her to come here. Her presence may be of little to no consequence. Even so, she does not want to leave.<\/p>\n<p>As Yvette fits her key into their building\u2019s front door, Tom\u00e1s and Olga\u2019s Rottweiler erupts into his insane-lion act. <em>RrrooOOOWWWRRR! <\/em>It drowns out all other sounds.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHurry up,\u201d Yvette says. \u201cGet inside.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Molly stands where she is, letting it hit. In this space between her door and the gutter she listens to the roar and beneath it, the wild kennel of her own heart, thrashing and howling like all frightened things. Held to her chest, Gregoria\u2019s tortillas have the heft and density\u2014and almost the warmth\u2014of a very small living creature.<\/p>\n<p class=\"p1\" style=\"text-align: center;\">__________________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>From <\/em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780822949237\">Those Who Vanish<\/a> <em>by Patricia Grace King. Used with permission of the publisher, University of Pittsburgh Press. Copyright \u00a9 2026 by Patricia Grace King.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Dogs in Guatemala are like this. It\u2019s what Molly would tell the teenage student beside her, weeping in the street over yet one more brutalized stray, if only it weren\u2019t the worst possible time to stop and give explanations. Molly<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":63,"featured_media":275676,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[25508,3,43074,26765,43075],"tags":[111734,188,111735],"class_list":["post-275670","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-daily-fiction","category-excerpts","category-fictionandpoetry","category-short-stories","category-short-story","tag-patricia-grace-king","tag-short-stories","tag-those-who-vanish","story-type-daily-fiction"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19Ii","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/9780822949237.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/275670","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/63"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=275670"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/275670\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/275676"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=275670"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=275670"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=275670"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276257,"date":"2026-09-03T04:01:39","date_gmt":"2026-09-03T08:01:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276257"},"modified":"2026-09-02T13:57:44","modified_gmt":"2026-09-02T17:57:44","slug":"gra-asim-on-99-problems-finding-the-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/gra-asim-on-99-problems-finding-the-1\/","title":{"rendered":"G\u2019Ra Asim on <em>99 Problems Finding the 1<\/em>"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Nonfiction writer G\u2019Ra Asim joins co-hosts V.V. Ganeshananthan and Whitney Terrell to talk about his new book, <i>99 Problems Finding the 1: a love story (sort of). <\/i>Asim discusses Afropessimism, heteropessimism, and their relationship to his pursuit of love as a cis straight black man; defines the idea of \u201cthinkful wishing\u201d; and recalls the ways in which black couples in his family, including his parents, have modeled relationships for him. He explains how\u2014inspired by the viral New York Times essay \u201cThe 36 Questions That Lead to Love\u201d\u2014 he came up with a series of inquiries that push two participants to reflect on their experiences of gender and race. He talks about how culture influences understanding of romance, mentioning Destiny\u2019s Child, <i>Dexter, <\/i>and <i>Minor Feelings.<\/i> He reads from <i>99 Problems Finding the 1.<\/i><\/p>\n<p><iframe style=\"width: 100%; height: 200px; border: 0 none;\" src=\"https:\/\/art19.com\/shows\/9de36b8c-32a9-49c0-9b19-8d98127e539f\/episodes\/23b1ad40-6d79-4c62-ac20-efbfc75e9570\/embed\" scrolling=\"no\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-popups allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p><em>To hear the full episode, subscribe through iTunes, Google Play, Stitcher, Spotify, or your favorite podcast app (include the forward slashes when searching). You can also listen by streaming from the player below. Check out video versions of our interviews on the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/fiction.non.fiction.podcast\/\">Fiction\/Non\/Fiction Instagram account<\/a>, the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/channel\/UC07g9fxim0XbDM_LhlnCL0w\/featured?disable_polymer=1\">Fiction\/Non\/Fiction YouTube Channel<\/a>, and our show website: <a href=\"https:\/\/www.fnfpodcast.net\/\">https:\/\/www.fnfpodcast.net\/<\/a> This podcast is produced by V.V. Ganeshananthan and Whitney Terrell.<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/graasim.com\/\"><b>G&#8217;Ra Asim<\/b><\/a><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/moonpalacebooks.com\/item\/VdT28uSLKvY9QrGGCq-BlQ\"><i>99 Problems Finding the 1: : a love story (sort of)<\/i><\/a> \u2022\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/moonpalacebooks.com\/item\/VdT28uSLKvZR2oI4gHhWXg\"><i>Boyz n the Void: a mixtape to my brother<\/i><\/a><i><\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><b>Others<\/b><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">\u201cOn the Necessity of Turning Oneself into a Character,\u201d by Phillip Lopate from <a href=\"https:\/\/moonpalacebooks.com\/item\/1hgzL4GgOuUtLinOhrt7zQ\"><i>To Show and to Tell: The Craft of Literary Nonfiction<\/i><\/a> \u2022\u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.vogue.com\/article\/is-having-a-boyfriend-embarrassing-now\">Is Having a Boyfriend Embarrassing Now?\u201d | Vogue<\/a>\u00a0\u2022 <a href=\"https:\/\/www.imdb.com\/title\/tt0773262\/\"><i>Dexter<\/i> (TV Series 2006\u20132013) &#8211; IMDb<\/a> \u2022\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/www.imdb.com\/title\/tt4288182\/\"><i>Atlanta<\/i> (TV Series 2016\u20132022) &#8211; IMDb<\/a> \u2022\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=qFJ3VKnwmJw\">Destiny&#8217;s Child &#8211; Soldier ft. T.I., Lil&#8217; Wayne<\/a> \u2022 \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2015\/01\/09\/style\/no-37-big-wedding-or-small.html?unlocked_article_code=1.-FA.XDdV.mbQxsZudBQli&amp;smid=url-share\">The 36 Questions That Lead to Love,\u201d by Mandy Len Catron,\u00a0 The New York Times<\/a> \u2022\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/moonpalacebooks.com\/item\/zroBIQl5na9O9zoU8Jm8fg\"><i>Minor Feelings<\/i> by Cathy Park Hong<\/a> \u2022\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/moonpalacebooks.com\/item\/HmJy8yFFTGJJdwETjR2q9Q\"><i>Dreams from My Father<\/i> by Barack Obama<\/a><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><b>EXCERPT FROM A CONVERSATION <\/b><b>WITH G\u2019RA ASIM<\/b><\/p>\n<p><b>V.V. Ganeshananthan:<\/b> A couple of other concepts that you dive into early that really push the thinking in the book forward are heteropessimism and Afropessimism. Pretty early on in the book, you write that in the dating world, heteropessimism and Afropessimism work together like that old medical school adage: \u201cif you hear hoofbeats behind you, think horse, not zebra.\u201d I wonder if you can share your definitions of those concepts and talk about how they connect in your thinking about romance.<\/p>\n<p><b>G\u2019ra Asim: <\/b>So I guess to frame the answer, as you requested, I think about Afropessimism as a school of thought constituted loosely by a group of thinkers and critical theorists, who believe that anti-racism is the mortar that holds the world as we know it together, which means, from their perspective, that the only way to rid the world of anti-Black racism would be to destroy the world as we know it. Heteropessimism, even though the word makes it sound as severe and as high stakes as Afropessimism, seems to me to be more of a viral meme than a school of thought. Although, it&#8217;s a viral meme that has quite a bit of traction in culture in a lot of different ways. Thinking, for instance, of a recent viral article, maybe it was in <i>The Cut<\/i>, where the title was something like, &#8220;Is it embarrassing to have a boyfriend now? Just citing that to illustrate the degree to which people are taken with this cynical view of romantic possibilities between people of different genders.<\/p>\n<p>The adage that you mentioned that I reference in the book is essentially talking about how the longer people date, the more they become cynical about dating, and they tend to envision that any pause, yellow light, or uncertainty in the process of getting to know someone is evidence of a disqualifying fundamental unfitness. I think it&#8217;s really clear to me, based on my parents&#8217; relationship and based on my interpersonal relationships, romantic and otherwise, that it&#8217;s very difficult to cultivate meaningful closeness with another person if you are too rigidly committed to the expectation that they are destined to let you down. They are destined to be less than you desire them to be. Of course, we&#8217;re all compromised. Of course, we&#8217;re all faulty. But this fixation on anticipating bad news or difficulty, and in fact, heading it off at the pass can very often prevent us from discovering exactly the things that would delight us if we were patient enough to let them unfold.<\/p>\n<p><b>Whitney Terrell: <\/b>There&#8217;s a passage in the book where you&#8217;re texting or in a conversation with somebody that you&#8217;re dating. She says, \u201cI don&#8217;t want the narrative of this book to be that I wanted you more than you wanted me.\u201d Is that what you&#8217;re talking about, a kind of \u201cI don&#8217;t want to admit that I like you. I&#8217;m already certain that I&#8217;m already envisioning the end of this?\u201d<\/p>\n<p><b>GA: <\/b>That&#8217;s right. The person who said that to me wasn&#8217;t even talking about the book. She was just saying the narrative of the relationship. She was already thinking about the relationship as a story, which I can&#8217;t blame her. People are consumed with social media apps that arrange their lives according to Freytag&#8217;s pyramid. They spend so much time mining their own experience for content. I see how someone gets there, but at the same time, this preoccupation with the end or where the story appears to be going can directly preclude recognition of what&#8217;s happening right now.<\/p>\n<p><b>VVG: <\/b>You also really helpfully and early in the book push back on rigid constructions of masculinity and femininity and the notion that straight and queer identities are not fluid; that they don&#8217;t have overlap. All of this makes these kinds of lowered expectations all the more inappropriate. They&#8217;re not necessarily going to hold in a world that&#8217;s much slipperier. Whitney and I were talking last night about the Stockdale Paradox, which I had not heard of until I read about it in your book. And I wonder if you can talk a little bit about the Stockdale Paradox, tell our listeners what it is and how it applies to this situation.<\/p>\n<p><b>AG: <\/b>Sure, the Stockdale Paradox, as I understand it, is a commitment to taking an unflinching look at the most brutal facts of your situation, while maintaining an ineradicable conviction that you will prevail. It\u2019s directly contrary to heteropessimism, and Afropessimism in a different way. I mention it in the book partially because in the intro I close read the Destiny&#8217;s Child song \u201cSoldier,\u201d which I would argue is an amazing song, but has done irreparable damage to the capacity for sensitivity of people of my generation across all genders. I was looking at the Stockdale Paradox, which comes from James Stockdale, a former prisoner of war in Vietnam. I was looking at the Stockdale Paradox as another way of considering this militarism-inflected view of love that was less fearsome and more constructive. Even though I&#8217;m not someone who goes around lionizing soldiers or romanticizing war, I do find the concept of the Stockdale Paradox completely inspirational, including as it pertains to romance.<\/p>\n<p><b>WT: <\/b>So, what you essentially mean in that, in terms of discussing the Stockdale Paradox, is like even if\u00a0 bad things might happen, you need to keep an open mind to the possibility that things will work out?<\/p>\n<p><b>GA:<\/b> I might even take a step further and say, if you are determined to find and sustain a fulfilling relationship, then you don&#8217;t want to just hold on to the idea that it might work out. I think there&#8217;s something to be gained from deciding that it will absolutely work out, that there&#8217;s no other possibility, as David Stockdale did when he was in prison.<\/p>\n<p><b>WT: <\/b>I totally agree with that. People have to create positive narratives for each other. I felt like you talk about your parents a lot in the book, but my grandparents were really good at creating positive stories about how their relationship went and what they felt about each other. Even if they fought or whatever, they still spent time creating narratives about themselves that were like \u201cThis worked.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><b>GA: <\/b>Which I&#8217;m sure, if that was a successful relationship, I&#8217;m sure that is not incidental to longevity, right? I mean, keeping morale high is something that&#8217;s useful to almost any collaborative endeavor, and I don&#8217;t think love is any kind of exception to that.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><b><i>Transcribed by Otter.ai. Condensed and edited by Rebecca Kilroy. Photograph of G\u2019Ra Asim by Kate Hoos.<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Nonfiction writer G\u2019Ra Asim joins co-hosts V.V. Ganeshananthan and Whitney Terrell to talk about his new book, 99 Problems Finding the 1: a love story (sort of). Asim discusses Afropessimism, heteropessimism, and their relationship to his pursuit of love as<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3671,"featured_media":276571,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43069,6,43112,43072,43110,43070],"tags":[112135,32311,105383,41410,5089],"class_list":["post-276257","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-craftandcriticism","category-features","category-fiction-non-fiction-lithubradio","category-in-conversation","category-lithubradio","category-literary-criticism","tag-99-problems-finding-the-1","tag-fictionnonfiction","tag-gra-asim","tag-lit-hub-radio","tag-podcasts","story-type-fiction-non-fiction"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19RL","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/banner-FNF23.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276257","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3671"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276257"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276257\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276571"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276257"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276257"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276257"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276561,"date":"2026-09-02T13:51:34","date_gmt":"2026-09-02T17:51:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276561"},"modified":"2026-09-02T13:53:30","modified_gmt":"2026-09-02T17:53:30","slug":"why-is-emily-wilson-retranslating-the-odyssey-from-scratch","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/why-is-emily-wilson-retranslating-the-odyssey-from-scratch\/","title":{"rendered":"Why is Emily Wilson retranslating <em>The Odyssey<\/em> from scratch?"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Emily Wilson, chairwoman of classical studies at the University of Pennsylvania, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.uniondemocrat.com\/lifestyle\/article_4fb9730e-6a72-4a0e-978d-8094b0bf3cde.html\">best-selling translator<\/a>, and <a href=\"https:\/\/bsky.app\/profile\/lrb.co.uk\/post\/3mrn6o22vyk2s?utm_source=Sailthru&amp;utm_medium=email&amp;utm_campaign=bookgossip_nymag_20260728&amp;utm_term=Subscription+List+-+Book+Gossip\">website-crashing<\/a> Christopher Nolan <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-ten-sickest-burns-in-emily-wilsons-odyssey-review-ranked\/\">hater<\/a>, is going back to retranslate <em>The Odyssey <\/em>less than a decade after the publication of her 2017 modernizing take on the epic.<\/p>\n<p>This isn\u2019t just tweaking and refreshing some word choices. Wilson is starting over from the top with a completely new translation. It reminds me of <a href=\"https:\/\/www.sfgate.com\/local\/article\/myth-about-sf-golden-gate-bridge-16848740.php\">that old myth<\/a> about the Golden Gate Bridge being in a state of perpetual painting: once you reach the end of one translation of <em>The Odyssey,<\/em> you gotta go back to \u201c\u1f04\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03b1 \u03bc\u03bf\u03b9 \u1f14\u03bd\u03bd\u03b5\u03c0\u03b5.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The question is why, especially since two editions within a decade is bound to cause some confusion: which one will be the &#8220;definitive&#8221; Wilson translation? Wilson is aware that this might be an issue, and hopes teachers won\u2019t \u201ccurse\u201d her for it. The publisher was apparently not too happy either, according to Wilson, though selling over <a href=\"https:\/\/www.uniondemocrat.com\/lifestyle\/article_4fb9730e-6a72-4a0e-978d-8094b0bf3cde.html\">a million copies<\/a> of an ancient epic probably won her some wiggle room.<\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s not that she thinks the 2017 version is bad. Wilson told the podcast <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theguardian.com\/books\/2026\/sep\/01\/emily-wilson-to-retranslate-the-odyssey-from-scratch-christopher-nolan\">Instant Classics<\/a> that she&#8217;s \u201cproud\u201d of her previous work, even though it was a bit constrained.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI think,\u201d she said, \u201cthere are lots of good things about the kinds of compression and choices that I was forced into.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And this isn&#8217;t Wilson capitalizing on the poem&#8217;s current Matt Damon-sized popularity, either. According to <a href=\"https:\/\/apnews.com\/article\/emily-wilson-odyssey-translation-homer-a05084e4753528dff13766703161d24d\">an interview with the <em>AP<\/em><\/a>, Wilson is already \u201chalfway through\u201d this new translation, which has been in the works since at least the spring, according to that same interview with <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theguardian.com\/books\/2026\/sep\/01\/emily-wilson-to-retranslate-the-odyssey-from-scratch-christopher-nolan\">Instant Classics.<\/a><\/p>\n<p>One reason for going back to the epic is that Wilson has rethought her approach overall, telling <a href=\"https:\/\/www.nytimes.com\/2026\/08\/28\/books\/odyssey-emily-wilson-translation.html\">the <em>Times<\/em><\/a> that this new translation will be longer, with \u201cmore varied word-length and pacing,\u201d mirroring the approach she took with\u00a0<em>The<\/em> <em>Iliad<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>She&#8217;s also hoping to be more precise in how she presents certain concepts to a modern reader. One example she cited is the word \u201cslave,\u201d which she thinks is not the right noun to communicate how a relationship of bondage would be understood in an Ancient Greek context.<\/p>\n<p>Adding in more context like this is a broader goal of this retranslation. Wilson is promising to \u201cquadruple the number of endnotes because endnotes are really fun to write.\u201d Hell yeah. This is good news for us end and footnotes fans (shout out to David Foster Wallace, Nicholson Baker, and the Folger editions of Shakespeare).<\/p>\n<p>Broader questions about translation are addressed in Wilson\u2019s new essay collection, <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781324099406\">Crossing the Wine Dark Sea<\/a><\/em>, which explores her approach compared to the old standard translators Mendelsohn and Fagles. These new essays also take on the popularity of Stoicism (\u201dI\u2019m quite suspicious that through philosophy you can have security\u201d), the Percy Jackson books (\u201cHere\u2019s this white boy in America who\u2019s going to gather the whole of Western civilization, and there\u2019ll be a hero\u2019s journey, which will really be the heroism of American exceptionalism\u201d), and how Cardi B\u2019s \u201cWAP\u201d echos ancient comedic poems.<\/p>\n<p>I do think ultimately, the real reason why Wilson keeps going back to <em>The Odyssey<\/em> is that she just loves this poem. She told the <em>Times<\/em> that \u201cit\u2019s always a huge privilege to get to spend all day reading Homer and wrestling with the endlessly fascinating challenges of how to convey ancient Greek into fluent English verse.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>A good reminder that returning to the books you love is never a waste of time.<\/p>\n<p><em>Images from <a href=\"https:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Emily_Wilson_%28classicist%29\">Wikipedia<\/a> and <a href=\"https:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Odyssey\">Wikipedia<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Emily Wilson, chairwoman of classical studies at the University of Pennsylvania, best-selling translator, and website-crashing Christopher Nolan hater, is going back to retranslate The Odyssey less than a decade after the publication of her 2017 modernizing take on the epic.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17056,"featured_media":276569,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43201,43101,43092,43646],"tags":[66288,28255,12278,1262],"class_list":["post-276561","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-news-newsandculture","category-history","category-newsandculture","category-the-hub","tag-christopher-nolan","tag-emily-wilson","tag-the-odyssey","tag-translation"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19WF","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/wilson-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276561","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/17056"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276561"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276561\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276569"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276561"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276561"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276561"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":158943,"date":"2026-09-02T09:51:27","date_gmt":"2026-09-02T13:51:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=158943"},"modified":"2026-09-02T13:55:34","modified_gmt":"2026-09-02T17:55:34","slug":"nick-offerman-on-the-essential-wisdom-of-wendell-berry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/nick-offerman-on-the-essential-wisdom-of-wendell-berry\/","title":{"rendered":"Nick Offerman on the Essential Wisdom of Wendell Berry"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: right;\"><em>This interview was originally published in 2020. Wendell Berry <a href=\"https:\/\/www.npr.org\/2026\/09\/01\/1139228585\/wendell-berry-obituary\">died two days ago<\/a> at the age of 92.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Growing up in the foothills of eastern Kentucky as a compulsive reader and full-time hillbilly, I was instinctively attracted, like most literary-minded country folk, to the work of essayist, novelist, and poet, Wendell Berry. Berry\u2019s books, particularly titles like <a href=\"https:\/\/www.bookloft.com\/book\/9781582431604\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>Jayber Crow<\/em> <\/a>and <a href=\"https:\/\/www.bookloft.com\/book\/9781582430430\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>The Memory of Old Jack<\/em><\/a> serve as an apt reflection of the slow-moving but beautiful home that I miss so much now that I spend my days in the much louder Columbus, Ohio.<\/p>\n<p>In Berry\u2019s perhaps most well-known essay \u201cA Native Hill,\u201d he recounts the story of himself as a young writer from Kentucky, plopped into New York City in the beginning of his career. After a short while, he finds himself writing mostly about the bluegrass state, and against the career-ending warnings of his peers, decides to move back home. In the following years, Berry buys a plot of land in the Kentucky watershed portion of the Ohio River Valley, in his hometown of Port Royal, or \u201cPort William\u201d as you may have heard it in most of his fiction, and commits himself to a life of socio-conscious farming.<\/p>\n<p>This essay, along with many of Berry\u2019s teachings, sits with me. In 2015, I moved to Columbus with my partner who was finishing up a degree in veterinary medicine at The Ohio State University. A bookseller and publisher by trade, I took a job at the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.bookloft.com\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Book Loft of German Village<\/a>, one of the nation\u2019s largest independent bookstores. Though I love it here, there\u2019s something about those rolling hills, impossibly leaning Mail Pouch tobacco barns, and old country stores that keep me woolgathering, so I\u2019ve made it my duty to get Wendell\u2019s books into as many hands as possible.<\/p>\n<p>In continuation of this work and through the help of the hardworking folks at Counterpoint Publishing, Berry\u2019s publisher, I was able to lob a few questions to fellow Berry fan and professional woodworker, Nick Offerman. Nick has spent years championing Berry\u2019s work, even devoting an entire chapter to his legacy in his book <a href=\"https:\/\/www.bookloft.com\/book\/9780451473011\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\"><em>Gumption: Relighting the Torch of Freedom with America\u2019s Gutsiest Troublemakers<\/em>.<\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong>*<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>Gary Lovely: <\/strong>Could you explain how you became involved with Wendell Berry and subsequently The Berry Center in Kentucky?<\/p>\n<p><strong>Nick Offerman:<\/strong> In 1995 I was working at Chicago\u2019s Steppenwolf Theatre with a Kentucky actor named Leo Burmester. He fortunately took a shine to me, and gave me two books of Wendell Berry short stories, <em>Fidelity<\/em>, and <em>Watch With Me<\/em>. Wendell\u2019s writing spoke to me like nothing I\u2019d ever before read. I grew up in a family and community that aspires to the same set of values as the citizens of Port William. In Wendell Berry, I had unexpectedly found a chronicler of the nobility found in good, honest work, and thrift, and affection for one\u2019s family and neighbors and animals and the land that supports and nourishes all of the above.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">I have often asserted that if my job were simply to broadcast the works of Wendell Berry to the world, I\u2019d die a happy man.<\/p>\n<p>I immediately wanted to adapt some Berry fiction to the stage or screen, so I wrote him a letter asking for permission. He replied with a charming letter, typed on an old manual typewriter, that he wasn\u2019t interested in seeing any adaptation of his work. Of course, this was deeply frustrating, but only made me want to pursue him all the harder. I continued to write every few years, reminding Wendell that I was considerably younger than him, insinuating that perhaps he ought to relinquish permission to me before he made his final farewell. He always responded with polite firmness, and was consistently friendly as he kept me beyond arm\u2019s length.<\/p>\n<p>Over the years since I first read him, I have shouted my appreciation from the rooftops, bending the ear of anybody I could get to stand still about the writing of Wendell Berry, and why his works should be required curriculum in every school in the country. Friends and acquaintances were very familiar with my devotion to his fiction, essays and poetry. So much so that a charismatic friend (Holly Sabiston) in Austin, Texas, put me in touch with another friend of hers, Laura Dunn, who was making a documentary film about Wendell and his vision. I told Laura I would be over the moon to help out in any way I could with her film, so she made me a co-producer on it. Her films are gorgeous and important, and it was a privilege to pitch in on this one, which was called <em>Look &amp; See<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>This relationship was fortuitous in another way: I was writing a book called <em>Gumption<\/em>, about some heroes of mine, and Laura introduced me to the daughter of Wendell and his wife Tanya, Mary Berry. As her folks are in their eighties, Mary is now generally captaining the ship that is the Berry Center. We spoke on the phone, and fortunately a couple of her kids had heard of <em>Parks and Recreation<\/em>, so I had a couple of fans going into the scrutiny. The Berrys naturally receive a lot of requests for all kinds of things, and it was lucky I had a couple of advocates vouching for me. Or vouching for my mustache, anyway. And my ability to consume eggs.<\/p>\n<p>Then, yet again, the agricultural training of my youth saved the day. As my name was being bandied about the Berry living room, thanks to Mary trying to arrange a Sunday afternoon meeting and interview for me, her brother Den overheard and said, \u201cHang on. Nick Offerman is the guy from <em>Fine Woodworking Magazine<\/em> \u2014I built his router sled to flatten my ash slabs.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Well, this elevated me in Wendell\u2019s eyes from solicitous writer\/actor\/film associate to a person who works with his\/her hands to craft furniture and other heroic implements from wood. The meeting was set.<\/p>\n<p>We had a beautiful lunch at the farm, thanks to Tanya, and a walking tour, and a handful of meetings since. I am very grateful for their friendship, and I try not to abuse their time.<\/p>\n<p>I have often asserted that if my job were simply to broadcast the works of Wendell Berry to the world, I\u2019d die a happy man. It turns out that Mary Berry is doing just that, with her work at the Berry Center, and so I do my best to support her efforts as best I can, because she knows what the hell she is talking about. They have a few programs supporting and educating small, local farming concerns, which is what our entire country if not the whole damn planet needs. The portions of Wendell\u2019s writing and Mary\u2019s hands-on nurturing that focus on rural, manageably sized economies are very inspiring to me, and it\u2019s not just the two of them, of course. They have a lot of family involved, and neighbors into the bargain. I appreciate the example they set, which is why I try to be a good cheerleader for their efforts.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">I suppose that Wendell\u2019s writing has influenced my own insofar as I think his writing to be the best writing, and so mine necessarily aspires to his.<\/p>\n<p><strong>GL:<\/strong> The Berry Center does fantastic work in both their bookshop and their community. I\u2019ve been particularly interested in Our Home Place Meats, a somewhat new program that supports local farmers and produces Rose Veal, an almost unbelievably good cut of meat.<\/p>\n<p><strong>NO:<\/strong> I couldn\u2019t agree more. They are setting a great example with what is effectively a co-op protectorate that controls the quality of their beef and the lives of their cattle from start to finish. The ten farmers in the group are experiencing an alternative to industrial farming that focuses on the health of the farmer, the farm, the animal, and the consumer. Something we should be demanding of all our agriculture.<\/p>\n<p><strong>GL:<\/strong> <em>In Paddle Your Own Canoe<\/em>, you herald the importance of carrying a handkerchief, a habit I felt kinship with and that reminded me of the goodness in Wendell\u2019s writing, particularly in <em>The Memory of Old Jack<\/em>. What lessons have you taken away from his work as a whole? Do you believe his writing influenced your own?<\/p>\n<p><strong>NO:<\/strong> Well, hell. The lessons are too many to enumerate in an interview, but a couple off the top of my melon:<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">\u2013Set limits for oneself. What good is working too many acres, so that one must work 14 hours a day and thus never be available to enjoy one\u2019s earnings, nor see one\u2019s family?<br \/>\n\u2013Eschew consumerism. Eschew screens and what they attempt to sell you.<br \/>\n\u2013Slow down your pace so that your senses have time to rest on a lemon tree or a hummingbird or a creek.<br \/>\n\u2013Wait until the hogs have been butchered before drinking the whiskey.<\/p>\n<p>As for the second question, I suppose that Wendell\u2019s writing has influenced my own insofar as I think his writing to be the best writing, and so mine necessarily aspires to his. I don\u2019t ever expect to get terrifically close to his level of mastery, but every time I read him I think, \u201cJeez. Now that\u2019s what I would have wanted to say, but he can say it with only a third of the words that I would require.<\/p>\n<p><strong>GL: <\/strong>As someone with plenty of experience recording audiobooks and reading scripts, what was it like recording <em>The World-Ending Fire<\/em> and <em>The Unsettling of America<\/em>?<\/p>\n<p><strong>NO:<\/strong> Reading those essays, or really any text, aloud, for the edification of an audience of one, is a privilege I take very seriously. Successfully translating a writer\u2019s meaning and intent from the page to spoken word requires a good deal more energy than I would have imagined before I started doing audio books. When the text means so much to me personally, as in the case of these two books of Berry essays, it can be deeply rewarding but also exhausting. When I have performed a work of fiction, like a couple of Mark Twain titles, I generally cruise through with few stops or do-overs, but when I recorded these essays, I re-did a lot of passages, trying my damnedest to get the grip of the point across to the listener.<\/p>\n<p><strong>GL:<\/strong> Seeing as fans of your work are bound to become new fans of Wendell\u2019s after listening, is there anything in particular you hope for them to take away from these books?<\/p>\n<p><strong>NO:<\/strong> Well, sure. I could just quote a passage from the Wendell Berry chapter in my second book <em>Gumption<\/em>:<\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\">If you are (about to be) new to Mr. Berry\u2019s work, let me tell you right to your face that you are in for a treat. Not a treat like ice cream or some other confection. A much more substantial treat, perhaps constructed cleverly of leather or hickory or copper, like you just won a barn, and someone is going to help you build it, and then that person is going to tell you how one might prosper from the use of a barn in your life. You can\u2019t know going in that it\u2019s not the barn itself, but rather the building of it and its cumulative use that are the real prizes. That kind of treat.<\/p>\n<p>I hope that new readers (or listeners) of this goodness will be improved by the main ingredients: common sense, empathy, contrariness, and respect for people and the nature in which we are privileged to live.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">___________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: left;\">Wendell Berry\u2019s (and Nick\u2019s) books can be found at your local indie bookshop, but I would implore you to order them from <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/shop\/berrycenterbookstore\">The Berry Center Bookstore.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This interview was originally published in 2020. Wendell Berry died two days ago at the age of 92. Growing up in the foothills of eastern Kentucky as a compulsive reader and full-time hillbilly, I was instinctively attracted, like most literary-minded<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7221,"featured_media":159155,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43108,43069,6,43072,43070,43231,43092],"tags":[5791,17878,63404,63406,12176,23403,733,5582,63405,63407,63409,63408,35204,8026],"class_list":["post-158943","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-climate-change","category-craftandcriticism","category-features","category-in-conversation","category-literary-criticism","category-nature","category-newsandculture","tag-climate-change","tag-farming","tag-gary-lovely","tag-gumption-relighting-the-torch-of-freedom-with-americas-gutsiest-troublemakers","tag-kentucky","tag-nick-offerman","tag-soil","tag-technology","tag-the-berry-book-center","tag-the-book-loft","tag-the-unsettling-of-america","tag-the-world-ending-fire","tag-tools","tag-wendell-berry","story-type-rural-america"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-FlB","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/12\/4.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/158943","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/7221"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=158943"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/158943\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/159155"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=158943"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=158943"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=158943"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276469,"date":"2026-09-02T06:30:03","date_gmt":"2026-09-02T10:30:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276469"},"modified":"2026-09-01T16:50:31","modified_gmt":"2026-09-01T20:50:31","slug":"lit-hub-daily-september-2-2026","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/lit-hub-daily-september-2-2026\/","title":{"rendered":"Lit Hub Daily: September 2, 2026"},"content":{"rendered":"<span class=\"caption\"> TODAY: In 1973, J.R.R. Tolkien dies.\u00a0 <\/span>\n<ul>\n<li>Former political prisoner Abdelrahman ElGendy tells Samaa Khullar <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/abdelrahman-elgendy-on-writing-from-inside-a-prison-cell\/\">about writing from inside a cell<\/a>. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/craftandcriticism\/in-conversation\/\">In Conversation<\/a><\/li>\n<li>&#8220;I\u2019d long noticed the discrepancies between my idealism and my pragmatism\u2014between my desire for a <i>fully accessible <\/i>world and the realities I saw all around me.&#8221; <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/visiting-helen-kellers-birthplace-while-deaf-what-it-means-to-navigate-accessibility\/\">On visiting Helen Keller\u2019s birthplace while deaf<\/a>. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/newsandculture\/memoir\/\">Memoir<\/a><\/li>\n<li>From <em>Slow Horses<\/em> to <em>Cruel Intentions<\/em>, these are the pieces of<a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-literary-film-tv-you-need-to-stream-in-september-4\/\"> literary film and TV you need to stream in September<\/a>. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/newsandculture\/film-and-tv\/\">Film<\/a><\/li>\n<li>There&#8217;s nothing wrong with a little writerly competition! Laurie Petrou recommends <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/7-books-about-writerly-rivalry\/\">books about literary rivalries by<\/a> R.F. Kuang, Meg Wolitzer, Sally Rooney, and more. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/readinglists\/\">Reading Lists<\/a><\/li>\n<li>Jonathan Cheng on <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-jerusalem-of-the-east-when-billy-graham-visited-pyongyang\/\">when Billy Graham visited Pyongyang<\/a>, from his Cundill Prize-Shortlisted <em>Korean Messiah.\u00a0<\/em>| Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/newsandculture\/history\/\">History<\/a><\/li>\n<li>Janet L. Jones considers Ann Patchett\u2019s <em>Whistler<\/em> and unravels <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/what-ann-patchetts-whistler-gets-right-and-wrong-about-horses\/\">what literature gets right (and wrong) about horses<\/a>. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/craftandcriticism\/literary-criticism\/\">Criticism<\/a><\/li>\n<li>How Elizabeth Wellington Rollins <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/generosity-and-personhood-how-the-myth-of-the-three-graces-inspired-my-debut-novel\/\">created &#8220;mortal, modern counterparts&#8221; to the Three Graces<\/a> in her debut novel. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/craftandcriticism\/craft-and-advice\/\">Craft<\/a><\/li>\n<li>&#8220;Evie eased onto the thin goose\u2011feather mattress and set her mouth to tell her man that it had been a good day, a good night, but Atlas whispered to her first.&#8221; Read from <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-book-of-chuck\/\">LaToya Watkins&#8217;s new novel, <em>The Book of Chuck<\/em><\/a>. | Lit Hub <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/category\/fictionandpoetry\/from-the-novel\/\">Fiction<\/a><\/li>\n<li><a href=\"https:\/\/defector.com\/what-do-booksellers-make-of-the-end-of-reading\">Do booksellers think this is the end of reading?<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/archive.is\/o\/CPr70\/https:\/\/defector.com\/author\/joel-pinckney\">Joel Pinckney<\/a> investigates. | Defector<\/li>\n<li>Cameron Manley considers <a href=\"https:\/\/lareviewofbooks.org\/article\/putin-ideology-russias-new-imperialism-closing-russian-mind\/\">two new books on Putin\u2019s authoritarianism<\/a>: \u201cIn this political order, ideology has ceased to be merely a tool of the state and has become a way of perceiving reality itself.\u201d | Los Angeles Review of Books<\/li>\n<li><a href=\"https:\/\/aeon.co\/essays\/play-is-doing-its-work-even-if-were-not-keeping-score\">Why humanity should choose pla<\/a>y over gamification. | Aeon<\/li>\n<li>\u201cThere is no reason whatsoever for there to be so many megalomaniacal comic book writers in this world. One is a problem, two is a trend, and friend: there are more than two.\u201d Tegan O&#8217;Neil examines <a href=\"https:\/\/www.tcj.com\/no-time-for-half-measures-some-thoughts-on-vertigos-return\/\">the past, present, and future of Vertigo<\/a>. | The Comics Journal<\/li>\n<li>Marlon James <a href=\"https:\/\/www.vulture.com\/article\/author-marlon-james-book-gossip-questionnaire.html\">on loving <i>Buffy the Vampire Slayer<\/i><\/a> (and other things). | Vulture<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Former political prisoner Abdelrahman ElGendy tells Samaa Khullar about writing from inside a cell. | Lit Hub In Conversation &#8220;I\u2019d long noticed the discrepancies between my idealism and my pragmatism\u2014between my desire for a fully accessible world and the realities<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":61,"featured_media":276472,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[45236],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-276469","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lit-hub-daily"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19Vb","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/tolkiensep2.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276469","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/61"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276469"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276469\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276472"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276469"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276469"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276469"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276206,"date":"2026-09-02T05:10:06","date_gmt":"2026-09-02T09:10:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276206"},"modified":"2026-08-31T12:01:05","modified_gmt":"2026-08-31T16:01:05","slug":"the-literary-film-tv-you-need-to-stream-in-september-4","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-literary-film-tv-you-need-to-stream-in-september-4\/","title":{"rendered":"The Literary Film & TV You Need to Stream in September"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Every month, all the major streaming services add a host of newly acquired (or just plain new) shows, movies, and documentaries into their ever-rotating libraries. So what\u2019s a dedicated reader to watch? Well, whatever you want, of course, but the name of this website is Literary Hub, so we sort of have an angle. To that end, here\u2019s a selection of the best (and most enjoyably bad) literary film and TV coming to streaming services this month. Have fun.<\/p>\n<h1 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>NEW:<\/strong><\/h1>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><em><strong><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/M8nHySkLb64?si=kDFRX-yMgwYjAsBz\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nLast Seen<\/strong><\/em><br \/>\nApple TV, September 9<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:<\/em> based on Ryan David Jahn&#8217;s <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780143120704\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">The Dispatcher<\/a><\/em> (2011)<\/p>\n<p>Patrick Brammall stars in this Australian thriller, in which a police dispatcher receives a call from a young woman who sounds like his daughter\u2014who has been missing for 11 years\u2014and must (of course) find out the truth.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/mZbJxpYHLuI?si=jZHuUqNCsX3Ncc_j\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\n<em>Slow Horses<\/em> (Season 6)<\/strong><br \/>\nApple TV, September 16<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides: <\/em>based on Mick Herron&#8217;s <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781641291330\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Joe Country<\/a><\/em> and <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781641293099\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Slough House<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n<p>If you aren&#8217;t already watching\u00a0<em>Slow Horses<\/em>, <a href=\"https:\/\/crimereads.com\/slow-horses-is-worth-the-slow-burn\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">you should be<\/a>.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><em><strong><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/xwdamnfS6IM?si=DNsdcSpWG2B2EV2M\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nThe Love Hypothesis<\/strong><\/em><br \/>\nPrime Video, September 23<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:\u00a0<\/em>based on Ali Hazelwood&#8217;s\u00a0<em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780593336823\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">The Love Hypothesis<\/a>\u00a0<\/em>(2021)<\/p>\n<p>Tom Bateman and Lili Reinhart star in this adaptation of Hazelwood&#8217;s bestselling romance novel (which originated as\u00a0<em>Star Wars <\/em>fan fiction, for whatever it&#8217;s worth). To be fair, it looks pretty cute.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><em><strong><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/kGVuOT6h11c?si=-u-6gbK_Od1pa6Wa\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nWonka&#8217;s The Golden Ticket<\/strong><\/em><br \/>\nNetflix, September 23<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:\u00a0<\/em>based, sort of, on Roald Dahl&#8217;s\u00a0<em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780142410318\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Charlie and the Chocolate Factory<\/a>\u00a0<\/em>(1964)<\/p>\n<p>Apparently, in 2026, Netflix is so desperate to wring every last drop of blood from its Roald Dahl IP cache that it is turning his most beloved novel into\u2014you didn&#8217;t even guess it\u2014a <em>reality show\u00a0<\/em>hosted by the\u00a0<em>AI-generated voice of Gene Wilder<\/em>. Well folks, we really are cooked. (Don&#8217;t actually watch this.)<\/p>\n<h1 style=\"text-align: center;\">*<\/h1>\n<h1 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>THROWBACK:<\/strong><\/h1>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/Wz719b9QUqY?si=FsocVTOiODwIqxB_\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nPsycho<\/em> (1960)<\/strong><br \/>\nPeacock, September 1<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:\u00a0<\/em>based on\u00a0<em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781590203354\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Psycho<\/a>\u00a0<\/em>by Robert Bloch (1959)<\/p>\n<p>We all know it&#8217;s chocolate syrup. But it doesn&#8217;t help.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/U1fu_sA7XhE?si=Yz_yBitBeMiZWSai\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nJaws<\/em> (1975)<\/strong><br \/>\nNetflix, September 1<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:\u00a0<\/em>based on\u00a0<em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780345544148\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Jaws<\/a>\u00a0<\/em>by Peter Benchley (1974)<\/p>\n<p>It may be <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/on-the-endless-symbolism-of-the-best-summer-movie-ever-made-jaws\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">the best summer movie ever made<\/a>, but you&#8217;ll still appreciate it in September.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/j9Mg-GRS46Y?si=hMlB_53mf8RB9Ffa\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nCarrie<\/em> (1976)<\/strong><br \/>\nPrime Video, September 1<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:\u00a0<\/em>based on\u00a0<em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781984898104\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Carrie<\/a>\u00a0<\/em>by Stephen King (1974)<\/p>\n<p>May as well keep the classic thrills coming\u2014it&#8217;ll be October before you know it.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/6iB21hsprAQ?si=U4fNxlSslDd6nvbm\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nThe Silence of the Lambs<\/em> (1991)<\/strong><br \/>\nPrime Video, September 1<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:<\/em> based on <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781250048097\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">The Silence of the Lambs<\/a><\/em> by Thomas Harris (1988)<\/p>\n<p>A <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/what-is-the-best-literary-film-adaptation-of-the-last-50-years\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">#1 seed<\/a> for a reason.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/yEmcEuS6xm4?si=A3wJpRFjjvjnf0zw\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\n10 Things I Hate About You<\/em> (1999)<\/strong><br \/>\nPeacock, September 1<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides: <\/em>based on <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9781476777399\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em><em>The Taming of the Shrew<\/em><\/em><\/a>\u00a0by William Shakespeare (1592)<\/p>\n<p>I maintain that\u00a0<em>10 Things\u00a0<\/em>is <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-life-changing-magic-of-10-things-i-hate-about-you\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">the best of its<\/a> micro-genre.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/UzlKsS-IhEo?si=r_wtrwbd4F9ARK0g\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nCruel Intentions<\/em> (1999)<\/strong><br \/>\nNetflix, September 1<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:<\/em> <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780199536481\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Les Liaisons dangereuses<\/a><\/em> by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos<\/p>\n<p>But\u00a0<em>Cruel Intentions\u00a0<\/em>is also iconic.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/sS6ksY8xWCY?si=CM53ieIu47Z9p3rJ\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nThe Green Knight<\/em> (2021)<\/strong><br \/>\nHulu, September 8<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:<\/em> based on <a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780393334159\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><em>Sir Gawain and the Green Knight<\/em><\/a> by the Gawain Poet (14th century)<\/p>\n<p>A recent favorite that changes the original text quite a lot, <a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/the-green-knight-unmakes-a-classic-to-unsettling-and-glorious-effect\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">but also does it justice<\/a>.<\/p>\n<h5 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong><em><iframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"YouTube video player\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/RlbR5N6veqw?si=1my2MZLyWZBP0_i2\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><br \/>\nPoor Things<\/em> (2023)<\/strong><br \/>\nHulu, September 7<\/h5>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><em>Literary bona fides:<\/em> based on <em><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780063374683\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Poor Things<\/a><\/em> by Alasdair Gray (1992)<\/p>\n<p>Not just a costume-lover&#8217;s dream, but also Lanthimos\u2019s best film (<a href=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/poor-things-is-a-curious-phantasmagoria\/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">according to our critic<\/a>, anyway).<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Every month, all the major streaming services add a host of newly acquired (or just plain new) shows, movies, and documentaries into their ever-rotating libraries. So what\u2019s a dedicated reader to watch? Well, whatever you want, of course, but the<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1210,"featured_media":276382,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[43093,11,43092],"tags":[26834,86441,81571,22956,73452],"class_list":["post-276206","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-film-and-tv","category-fullwidth-slider","category-newsandculture","tag-film-adaptations","tag-literary-film-tv","tag-streaming-guide","tag-tv-adaptations","tag-what-to-watch","story-type-what-to-watch"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19QW","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/slowhorses-copy.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276206","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1210"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276206"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276206\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276382"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276206"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276206"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276206"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}]