[{"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}]}},{"id":276272,"date":"2026-09-02T05:09:55","date_gmt":"2026-09-02T09:09:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276272"},"modified":"2026-08-31T11:54:56","modified_gmt":"2026-08-31T15:54:56","slug":"what-ann-patchetts-whistler-gets-right-and-wrong-about-horses","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/what-ann-patchetts-whistler-gets-right-and-wrong-about-horses\/","title":{"rendered":"What Ann Patchett\u2019s <em>Whistler<\/em> Gets Right and Wrong About Horses"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Popular novels often stumble in telling horse stories. Authors have colts (male) growing up to become mares (female); regional riders competing in red (national) coats; horses at a lope (slow) winning speed contests. As a neuroscientist and horse trainer studying the interaction between equine and human brains, it\u2019s hard to ignore such errors. We real riders rejoice when an exception appears. Ann Patchett\u2019s new novel <i>Whistler<\/i> is one such case.<\/p>\n<p>Literature\u2019s gatekeepers may be quick to point out that <i>Whistler<\/i> is not a horse book, but the central story in Patchett\u2019s nest of embedded tales revolves around a horse. The book is named after a horse; the cover bears the image of a horse; its pages are filled with talk of equine photos, sculptures, and statuettes; and the key metaphor of the narrative is grounded in a horse story. But it\u2019s true that the book itself focuses on the power of story to defy death and inspire salvation. Along the way, it explores how good families protect, teach, and love one another.<\/p>\n<p>The nut within the nest of stories is the tale of a Wyoming ranch woman who leaves her home in a rainstorm. Mary rides her favorite horse Whistler\u2014who came when she whistled\u2014up into the mountains, searching for a missing horse. She falls and is unable to return home due to her injuries. Her mount, meanwhile, is frightened by lightning and runs off. Three days later, as Mary is dying from a collapsed lung, broken bones, dehydration, and hypothermia, she whistles for her horse. The horse returns and lies down next to her, allowing Mary to mount and be carried to safety.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">Literature\u2019s gatekeepers may be quick to point out that <i>Whistler<\/i> is not a horse book, but the central story in Patchett\u2019s nest of embedded tales revolves around a horse.<\/p>\n<p>Horses are surprising animals, capable of many feats that, to most people, sound almost fantastical. It is indeed possible to teach a horse to come from a distance at the sound of a whistle, though most owners don\u2019t take the time to do so. Horses do become bonded to one person\u2014just as they can become attached to another horse. The fact that Mary loved Whistler and trained her personally, \u201cfor years and years,\u201d establishes the likelihood of a deep bond and could explain the horse\u2019s affection, putting \u201cher head on Mary\u2019s shoulder. Not anybody else\u2019s shoulder, only Mary\u2019s\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Horses have an extremely powerful sense of smell that allows them to navigate back home alone if necessary. Had there been no storm, Whistler would have followed her own body scent back to the ranch. Not only do the odors of both equine and human perspiration, body odor, and hormones linger in the air, but a horse\u2019s hooves contain scent glands that stamp her scent into the ground. All of these clues allow horses to retrace their paths.<\/p>\n<p>In <i>Whistler<\/i>, though, the storm\u2019s wind would have blown away air-borne odors, and torrential rain would have soaked out ground odors. This explains why Whistler did not simply run home after Mary fell\u2014a horse\u2019s typical practice. An unmounted horse galloping into a ranch, saddle empty and reins flying, is a standard cue for horse people to seek the rider. But with no scent trail to follow, there is no indication in the book that Whistler returned home, where Mary\u2019s husband and daughter would have realized that she was in trouble.<\/p>\n<p>The biggest question is whether a horse would lie down to allow an injured person to get on her back. And the answer is that it\u2019s highly unlikely, but not impossible. Mary had tried for years to teach Whistler to lie down, but had never achieved that goal. Patchett makes an interesting observation here: \u201cHorses weren\u2019t interested in lying down unless something was wrong.\u201d This is a common myth, borne of the fact that horses can sleep standing up. But they don\u2019t have to. In fact, healthy horses lie down most every day to rest their legs and achieve deep stages of sleep.<\/p>\n<p>Did Whistler know something was wrong with Mary? Undoubtedly, she did. Horses get to know their humans quite well. They recognize our individual faces and voices, they know how each of us walks and smells, they\u2019re aware of our clothing and who we\u2019ve recently touched, of the meals we\u2019ve eaten. Horses also know and can distinguish among certain human emotions. Smelling human hormones of fear, Whistler would have known that Mary was scared. As a prey animal, she would also have noticed that a bonded affiliate wasn\u2019t moving and might be sick.<\/p>\n<p>Patchett describes Whistler\u2019s lying down for Mary as \u201can unheralded act of generosity.\u201d But it\u2019s highly unlikely that the horse lay down with the intent to save Mary\u2019s life\u2014most equine scientists would claim that such a complex intent is impossible given the capacities of a horse\u2019s brain. It\u2019s far more probable that Whistler imitated Mary\u2019s position\u2014her lifelong trainer and guide was lying still on the ground for a long time.<\/p>\n<p class=\"pullquote\">Despite my quibbles, the embedded stories of <i>Whistler<\/i>, each inside another, are memorable and compelling, drawing readers into their core.<\/p>\n<p>Horses are herd animals who stick together for safety. Within the herd, they form close friendships with one or two other horses. These bonded affiliates often imitate each other\u2014following each other around, eating or drinking when the other horses do, running or playing together, exploring new ground together. Two equine affiliates will often lie down next to one another, even sometimes adopting the same positions. Such rites of affiliation can be transferred to humans. Out on a distant mountain, Whistler would have sought comfort from Mary, wanting to be close to the person who had taken care of her and protected her all her life.<\/p>\n<p>While Patchett\u2019s depiction of equine behavior is fairly realistic, the decisions of the main character in this central tale are less so. Mary is introduced as a born-and-bred, three-generation, Rocky Mountain ranch woman who\u2019s been riding and training horses all her life. Mary and Whistler left their ranch to seek a missing horse, Nutmeg, but very few horses leave a remote mountain ranch for long; they return to their herdmates. It\u2019s unlikely that Nutmeg needed to be found, and a third-generation ranch woman would have realized that.<\/p>\n<p>Mary had no reason to believe Nutmeg was in danger, so she would have waited for her husband and daughter to return before setting out to search. Patchett rationalizes Mary\u2019s decision by establishing that Nutmeg was old. But an old horse would be even less likely to leave her herdmates behind.<\/p>\n<p>When Mary decides to climb higher into the mountains on Whistler during the increasingly severe thunderstorm, hoping to spot Nutmeg from above, Whistler, a horse Mary had known and trained all her life, would have been communicating anxiety from the first step, reminding Mary of the danger. Meanwhile, Nutmeg would have taken shelter in the low brush of thickly wooded areas to avoid the rain, becoming invisible from above.<\/p>\n<p>It can be difficult to read fiction about a subject you\u2019ve devoted your life to studying. Still, despite my quibbles, the embedded stories of <i>Whistler<\/i>, each inside another, are memorable and compelling, drawing readers into their core. Only Ann Patchett could write such a pleasant, amiable novel about death, and only a horse could serve as her essential metaphor for peaceful salvation.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">_______________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"276273\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/what-ann-patchetts-whistler-gets-right-and-wrong-about-horses\/a-horses-world\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/a-horses-world.jpg\" data-orig-size=\"600,930\" 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=\"a horses world\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/a-horses-world.jpg\" class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-276273\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/a-horses-world-194x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"194\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/a-horses-world-194x300.jpg 194w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/a-horses-world-39x60.jpg 39w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/a-horses-world-32x50.jpg 32w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/a-horses-world.jpg 600w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 194px) 100vw, 194px\" \/><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/132\/9780316582582\">A Horse\u2019s World: A Neuroscientist&#8217;s Journey into the Equine Mind<\/a> <em>by Janet L. Jones is available from Little, Brown and Company, an imprint of Hachette Book Group.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Popular novels often stumble in telling horse stories. Authors have colts (male) growing up to become mares (female); regional riders competing in red (national) coats; horses at a lope (slow) winning speed contests. As a neuroscientist and horse trainer studying<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":31836,"featured_media":276281,"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],"tags":[112041,1453,1863,52657,16371,10883,112042,11640,110248],"class_list":["post-276272","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-craftandcriticism","category-features","category-literary-criticism","tag-a-horses-world-a-neuroscientists-journey-into-the-equine-mind","tag-animals","tag-ann-patchett","tag-hachette-book-group","tag-horse-books","tag-horses","tag-janet-l-jones","tag-little-brown-and-company","tag-whistler","story-type-animals"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19S0","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/whistler-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276272","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\/31836"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276272"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276272\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276281"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276272"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276272"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276272"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":276383,"date":"2026-09-02T05:09:35","date_gmt":"2026-09-02T09:09:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/?p=276383"},"modified":"2026-09-02T09:18:57","modified_gmt":"2026-09-02T13:18:57","slug":"abdelrahman-elgendy-on-writing-from-inside-a-prison-cell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/abdelrahman-elgendy-on-writing-from-inside-a-prison-cell\/","title":{"rendered":"Abdelrahman ElGendy on Writing From Inside a Prison Cell"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">On his third night in detention in Cairo, crammed with sixty other prisoners into a four-by-five meter cell, Abdelrahman ElGendy heard the song for the first time. Belly full after being starved for three days, one of his cellmates began to sing \u201cSawfa Naqba Huna,\u201d or \u201cWe Will Remain Here.&#8221; ElGendy was seventeen years old, goosebumps rising on his arms, not yet grasping what \u201chere\u201d was supposed to mean.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9798217153602\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Huna<\/span><\/i><\/a><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">, out this week from Hogarth, traces the six years ElGendy spent as a political prisoner in Egypt after being swept up alongside his father in a crackdown following the 2013 military coup, moving from overcrowded holding cells to the country\u2019s most notorious prison complex, The Scorpion. We follow him as he forms lifelong friendships, studies to earn his engineering degree, and begins his writing journey\u2014smuggling out pages in laundry bags, pages that would eventually help to form this book.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">But <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Huna<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> is not a book about resilience or hope\u2014ElGendy is almost allergic to those words. It\u2019s a book about erasure, and about how to continue to exist in a place that tries to strip you of your humanity. Its opening lines read less like memoir and more like a manifesto:<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I wrote on walls; I wrote on scraps. I wrote witness in cursive letters; I wrote handles on bolted doors. I wrote around, and through, the noise, and I wrote the noise. I wrote to soothe, to numb; when the frost thawed, again, I wrote.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cYou engrave yourself into the very wall designed to erase you,\u201d he told me. \u201cAnd somehow that wall built for erasure becomes your vehicle for immortality, like the dates you see on those walls, tens and tens of years back.\u201d Structured around the \u2018anbara, an Egyptian oral tradition in which one inmate calls the whole cellblock to attention from the next cell door, he positions us not as superior outside readers extending empathy, but as cellmates on equal footing.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Huna<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> arrives on shelves as ElGendy finds himself in motion again. <\/span><a href=\"https:\/\/www.thenation.com\/?post_type=article&amp;p=553721\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Forced out of the United States under the threat of potential ICE detention<\/span><\/a><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">, he now experiences a second displacement that the book, in some ways, anticipated. I sat down with him in the days before <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Huna<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u2019s launch to talk about the \u2018anbara, the complexities of translating a book filled with phrases that only work in Arabic, and the violence of the word \u201cresilient.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p>*<\/p>\n<p><b>Samaa Khullar: <\/b>There\u2019s a version of this book that could have existed where you spend a lot of time explaining the Arab Spring and what happened in Egypt to a Western reader\u2014the history, the acronyms, the timeline of the revolution. You didn\u2019t write that book; instead you chose to take us straight into your experience as a political prisoner. What was your decision making on how you wanted to frame this book?<\/p>\n<p><b>Abdelrahman El-Gendy:<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> I always knew that I didn\u2019t want this book to be \u201cthe Egypt book\u201d or \u201cthe prison book.\u201d I wanted it to be <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">at least<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> that, and I was thinking about the revolution more as an entryway into questions I was interested in, rather than the endpoint. After a certain amount of years in prison, you don\u2019t necessarily think about politics. It\u2019s more like: what is time? What is body? What is language? What is fate? You\u2019re thinking about all those existential things and trying to make sense of why this happened to you and who you are now. I tried as much as possible to think about the question of erasure. What does it mean to be erased in your body, in language, in your very sense of selfhood? And then what does being look like within conditions like these? So I started reading memoirs that grapple with erasure from very different contexts.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I remember one of the memoirs I really liked was <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">You Could Make This Place Beautiful<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> by Maggie Smith, which is a divorce memoir\u2014very different in terms of content, but it resonated with me because she\u2019s interrogating what it means to be erased in a marriage, in your body, and in language and your sense of self. I found that more interesting than reading other prison memoirs.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>I feel like that would have been my first step\u2014to seek out what other people have written about an experience I\u2019m also writing about. I\u2019m curious why you chose not to do that. Did you not want their experiences or writing styles to cloud yours, or was there a different reason?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: When you read things too identical to what you\u2019re going through, I don\u2019t think it\u2019s always generative. I didn\u2019t want to write a prison memoir in that sense. When you read work while you\u2019re writing your book, you feel inspired by certain things and how they spoke about certain experiences, and you start thinking: maybe I should also speak about that. I didn\u2019t want to replicate what someone else was doing. The more generative thing was to think about wildly different experiences in terms of content, but ones that are aligned in terms of question and inquiry.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>You went to the University of Pittsburgh for your MFA. Were you there to work on this book? And what were some of those conversations like in class? Did other writers have assumptions about what this book was going to be?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: This is true of MFA in general, but definitely. There&#8217;s so much that\u2019s different when you\u2019re not American. These are very US-centric spaces. There was a funny sort of thing that happened: I\u2019m portraying my father in a specific way, and I feel like there\u2019s so much peer pressure to make your parents evil in a memoir. No one told me \u201cmake your father evil,\u201d but it just kind of felt like the questions were always: where are his flaws? I do think he\u2019s a flawed character in the book\u2014he\u2019s not perfect\u2014but he was clearly portrayed out of love. So much of the resentment in the book was actually self-directed. The guilt and all those emotions. It was this weird dynamic where I felt how I was going about portraying this experience did not necessarily align with how people expected memoir to behave in the US.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I remember a comment that said, \u201cMaybe if you say Cairo is three times the size of New York, it would make it more relatable.\u201d I was like, why on earth would I say that in speaking about Cairo? The US-centrism sometimes comes through in those comments, especially in MFA programs where people are sitting with the rawest, most vulnerable drafts of very personal work. And so many comments assumed familiarity with the context for everyone else. For me, it was always: tell us more, give us more context. I think that demand for constant transparency and legibility is an act of violence.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>Before you\u2019re ripped away from family and friends, you describe having crushes, pushing yourself on the basketball court, begging to watch <i>Hannah Montana<\/i>. I found myself thinking about all the ways that we strip away Arab boyhood and make young men into symbols of resistance before they have the chance to grow up or even know themselves. Why did you choose to include these little details?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: There\u2019s so much about masculinity in this book, even if it\u2019s not heavy commentary. I don\u2019t think it\u2019s the most traditional thing to love <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Hannah Montana<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> and Taylor Swift as an Arab boy in Egypt. It\u2019s not perceived as manly. In prison, which is a hyper-masculine space, there was this subtle thinking about masculinity. And in relation to me and Baba\u2014so much of that inability to express affection is characteristic of son-father relationships in Arab families and has so much to do with how both of us were taught what a man should behave like. This memoir is actually me thinking through these things on the page, trying to understand what was happening in that relationship and the ways I failed to translate certain things as an act of love.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">So many of these scenes were misread in workshops as me catering to an American audience. Someone would say, \u201cI love how you included <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Hannah Montana<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> here\u2014it makes it so relatable for an American reader.\u201d I was like, that\u2019s just not the point. You underestimate how American cultural imperialism works. Everyone around the world has heard of <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Hannah Montana<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">, and yes, it\u2019s how American hegemony functions across the world, but that does not lessen our experiences.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>The handling of Arabic in this book isn\u2019t uniform. Some words are transliterated, some are in Arabic script, and some concepts are carried entirely in English. It seems very intentional. Why did you choose this variance?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: I was trying to listen more and more to my gut feeling, when I felt I wanted to contextualize or transliterate something, and when that urge came from a place of fear of being misread or cast out of a certain readership. I got better and better with each round of revision at recognizing the urge that says: this word doesn\u2019t want to be translated, you\u2019re just enforcing the translation to cater to the reader. So some words I felt comfortable translating\u2014\u0642\u0644\u0628 \u062e\u0633\u0627\u064a\u0629, \u201cthe heart of a lettuce\u201d for example\u2014because I wanted to give the reader an insight into this metaphor. But I was always thinking: if I was writing this book for Egyptians or people who read English in Egypt, what would I never have to explain? What would be naturally understood? And I was thinking about what it looks like for this book to be listened in on. And that comes through in the structure.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><p class=\"pullquote\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Your crushed body is not an error. It\u2019s not an oversight. It\u2019s a main function of the system.<\/p><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The book is structured around the \u2018anbara\u2014the prison ritual where people would stand in prison cells and call out to one another through the naddara, or the opening in the cell door. One person would say \u201c\u2018Anbar kollu yisma\u2019a\u2019!\u201d or \u201cCellblock! Everyone listen!\u201d and the whole place would stop. The ten lines of the \u2018anbara poem are the ten sections of the book, all untranslated, just in Arabic. It was important to me that they\u2019re untranslated because even if you can access the book, the whole thing is framed as something you cannot fully understand. And I put the explanation of what this poem is at the very end\u2014and even then, I don\u2019t explain what it means. So it\u2019s sort of a sleight of hand. If you finish this book and received it, you realize you have been positioned as a prisoner throughout this book, as a cellmate, and not as a superior reader coming to extend empathy to a victim.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>When did you land on <i>Huna<\/i>, and were there other working titles?<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"><strong>AEG:<\/strong> It was actually very late in the game. It was called \u201cWe Write On Walls,\u201d which I kind of liked but always thought of as a placeholder. Then \u201cHuna\u201d was part of the song I heard on my third night in detention, crammed with sixty other people in a tiny four-by-five meter cell. We hadn\u2019t had proper food in three days; prison food was inedible. That particular night, for the first time, they allowed our families to send food through. It was so fascinating to witness how much we softened, how the mood got lighter, even though the physical conditions didn\u2019t change at all. People started singing, and one of the songs they sang was Sawfa Naqba Huna, or \u201cWe Will Remain Here.\u201d I was really interested in what it means when we say that. The song goes: we will remain here until the pain subsides, the melody will sweeten. So what does it mean if we don\u2019t want to remain here physically? That\u2019s what I was fascinated by: what is this huna, this \u201chere,\u201d that we\u2019re choosing to inhabit.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">One day I woke up with this revelation: that\u2019s it. It\u2019s perfect. It\u2019s the song, it\u2019s the throughline, it\u2019s the question, it\u2019s what we\u2019re chasing. It\u2019s simple, and I always wanted the title to be in Arabic, but I didn\u2019t want it to be in Arabic just for the sake of it, I wanted it to be meaningful.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>Throughout the book, we find ourselves hoping that if the right official just heard your story, they\u2019d understand you don\u2019t belong in prison. What did it take for you to stop wanting that recognition?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: Again, your instinct in prison is thinking \u201cI don\u2019t belong in this place\u201d and I truly believe to this day that we don\u2019t belong in prisons, but what I was questioning more was the instinct to think that the judicial system\u2019s issue is only one of insufficient understanding. That if you clarify enough, if you get them to hear you out, they\u2019ll realize this is a mistake. You gaslight yourself into thinking this is possible. And I think it\u2019s just part of so many of our political awakenings: coming to the very difficult realization that systems of oppression are not failing to protect us. The judiciary is not failing to carry out justice: it\u2019s part of the machinery of oppression. It\u2019s not meant to bring about justice. It\u2019s meant to uphold the power that is oppressing you. Your crushed body is not an error. It\u2019s not an oversight. It\u2019s a main function of the system.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><p class=\"pullquote\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">We\u2019re not given the privilege to be political enemies\u2014we all have the barrel of the same gun pointed at us.<\/p><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">You eventually come to accept that the only possible engagement with this machinery is one of deceit and self-preservation. And I grapple with that in the book a lot, how the language of the law\u2014not just the systems and the apparatus of the court, but the very language of law\u2014is designed to lubricate that brutality against us to make it seem not just palatable but necessary. What does it mean to re-encounter ideas of criminality, of terrorism, of all those legal categories, once that veil has been removed?<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>You argue that the state\u2019s vocabulary works because it makes people sound like plausible prisoners. My mind went to Palestine, and the idea that if you\u2019re one of the \u201cgood ones,\u201d if you make yourself palatable, if you denounce resistance and distance yourself from the wrong people, you\u2019ll be fine. When did you realize this was just an unwinnable game?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: I was thinking of Palestine so much while writing this book. It\u2019s the same thing in Egypt with the Muslim Brotherhood. There\u2019s been so much pressure to discuss them in the book, which I was uninterested in. I have a very difficult and hostile relationship with them, and it\u2019s in the book, but only in ways that serve the narrative. The boogeyman in Egypt is the Brotherhood. I think about this a lot in the book: what does it mean to be in political enmity with a certain people, but also need to stand against their oppression? Because they\u2019ve been brutalized by the same machinery of repression. It\u2019s a very tricky thing to do.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><p class=\"pullquote\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I didn\u2019t want to reduce the political prisoner figure to this heroic monolith we\u2019re often accustomed to because it\u2019s politically useful.<\/p><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">You feel that saying \u201cI\u2019m not one of them\u201d is throwing them under the bus, because you\u2019re saying, by extension, that they deserve that brutality. And this is a very interesting dynamic in prison. They force all those people who probably would never have spoken to one another outside to be in the same cells, to build certain coalitions in order to survive. The ceiling is so far below our feet. The thing we\u2019re fighting for now in Egypt is just the opportunity to hate each other freely. We\u2019re not given the privilege to be political enemies\u2014we all have the barrel of the same gun pointed at us. So we\u2019re forced into coalitions we know are not going to last.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>You don\u2019t explicitly mention prison abolition in the book\u2014that phrase I mean\u2014but I also felt you didn\u2019t have to clarify your position on the matter. Was it a conscious choice to avoid the American conversations about prison reform or abolition?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: I learned so much from American abolitionist thinkers, especially Black abolitionists, and I first encountered abolition in prison, actually, when I read Ruth Wilson Gilmore and Angela Davis and started thinking about what it means to build a world in which prisons become obsolete.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Though there is a lot that is universal about carceral systems, I think there is also a lot that is US-specific, particularly in how the ideas of surplus population and capital, land, and bureaucracy operate in ways that just do not work the same way in the Egyptian context, for example. The state is actually putting in so much money to maintain a system of oppression in order to maintain its iron grip on power.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I think our challenge is to learn from more developed abolitionist movements and build our own theory of what an Egyptian abolitionist movement can look like. I am invested in abolishing prisons in the sense of asking: What would it take to build a world in which prisons just become a thing we do not need anymore?<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>As important as it was hearing about your comrades and loved ones in prison, it was equally important to hear about those you argued with, pitied, or even hated. You could have made it sound like you were all supporting each other, fighting towards a common enemy, but you chose to tell the truth about your anger and resentment. What was it like to put that on paper?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: I was just allergic to these concepts of resilience and resistance. You have no idea how many times that language is imposed on a book like this in terms of marketing and positioning. Everyone says: people don\u2019t want a depressing book, people want to find hope. And I\u2019m like: this is not a book about resilience. There is not one instance in this book where I speak about hope. It explicitly speaks about hopelessness. I didn\u2019t want to reduce the political prisoner figure to this heroic monolith we\u2019re often accustomed to because it\u2019s politically useful. Resilience and resistance are not bad things per se, and I do think they apply to many people in prison, but they\u2019re often used more for the sake of the speaker than the prisoner. It\u2019s to appease a certain guilt or helplessness. You need to believe they\u2019re resilient and steadfast. It\u2019s just self appeasing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Prison is a place of survival and yes, the book is very keen on studying the ability to retain one\u2019s tenderness in conditions that are intentional about callusing them. But it also insists on portraying the wide spectrum of emotions and the erosion that happens to one\u2019s soul. You have to kill yourself enough in prison in order to survive it. But the trick is to kill yourself just enough to have this little bit of tenderness left. If you get too tender, you\u2019ll get crushed, and if you lose it absolutely, then prison already won.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><p class=\"pullquote\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">This is not a book that will offer you hope in the way you\u2019re expecting it. I would like to offer something more cathartic and enduring than hope.<\/p><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Sometimes it looks very ugly. Sometimes there\u2019s a lot of hate\u2014and not just at the jailer, at one another. People do things that are not pleasant when they\u2019re trying to survive. Once you\u2019re exposed to that, you\u2019re confronted with: do you still feel the same way about these people? We don\u2019t need to love people to think they shouldn\u2019t be brutalized. It\u2019s okay to dislike or even hate people and still take a principled stance against their dehumanization.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>I think about that even when writing about Lebanon and Iran and Palestine\u2014how allies throw around \u201cresilient\u201d so quickly. What do you think people should consider before they use that word?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: They should consider: for whose sake are you saying that word? More often than not, you\u2019ll find you\u2019re saying it for your own self-appeasing purposes. It deters us from action or makes us feel better about our helplessness. Every time you\u2019re uttering that word and it\u2019s not for the sake of the prisoner, I don\u2019t think it\u2019s very helpful in terms of political organizing. I think it\u2019s a demobilizing word. We should just be very enraged and constantly agitated about what\u2019s happening to them. Anything that soothes that, or gives them more-than-human capacities\u2014that\u2019s just unhelpful to them.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>You write that your pain was meaningless, do you still feel that way? Ahdaf Soueif wrote to you in prison that it was not the main event of your life, only the circumstances in which you will continue to grow. Was she right?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: I have such an unsettled and agitated relationship to questions of meaning. I\u2019ve become less concerned with thinking about what ends I\u2019m aiming for. Thinking less about reaching those ends and more about the act of seeking itself. To me, this is the key thing I\u2019ve arrived at up until now. This is not a book that will offer you hope in the way you\u2019re expecting it. I would like to offer something more cathartic and enduring than hope.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><p class=\"pullquote\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I was standing in that cage, handcuffed to my father, and the prosecutor called for our execution.<\/p><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Everything we\u2019ve been witnessing, with the genocide in Gaza and Sudan and everywhere in the world, it\u2019s just difficult to think about hope in simplistic terms. Thinking about hope in that way, it\u2019s the same thing as resilience. It\u2019s starting to feel like a betrayal, or just a way we appease ourselves that has stopped being helpful. I\u2019m trying to stop thinking about meaning and hope and success in this linear, colonial way of mastery and conquering and attaining a thing.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>In the middle of the book, you wrote \u201cAt least this will be a poignant scene in the memoir.\u201d How early did the process of trying to collect and remember start?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: In the beginning it didn\u2019t start as a thing to collect or remember because I didn\u2019t want to believe I was staying in this place. The first time I ever wrote anything in prison was after the first trial hearing. I was standing in that cage, handcuffed to my father, and the prosecutor called for our execution. That was just a shocking moment: the disproportionality of what was being said about us. I was 17, and there was this weird dissonance when you hear all those things and start feeling detached from the person they\u2019re being said about. I wanted to let it out. I grabbed a pen and paper I\u2019d smuggled in and started writing\u2014about my body, about what it means to have a handcuff around my hand, how my reflection looked in it. Very raw things. I released it out of prison in the laundry bag. My sister published it on Facebook and it started getting traction. And to me that was the first magical experience of knowing what it feels like for your words to be read by people you don\u2019t know who feel touched by them and share it with you. In a place cut off from everything, where some cells you just sit looking at the same people for a year, writing was a lifeline. It got to a point where if it had landed me in solitary confinement, I couldn\u2019t have given it up.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It was an urge of self-preservation. I needed to survive. Writing was regaining a sense of control, not over circumstances, but at least over the naming of circumstances. I was studying engineering at the time, and I was thinking about writing in the same way I tried to decipher engineering problems: how does everything that happens to me fit together?<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Eventually I started thinking: maybe this whole experience could be a book. When things happened I would think about what I would write when I got back to my cell. I had a fifteen-year sentence. I had no idea if I was ever going to see the light again. But the fantasy of the book made me think of everything here as a part of a project. So when I was being beaten with batons, the protagonist of the book was being beaten by batons, not me. It was a very unhealthy coping mechanism, but in prison, if it works, you keep doing it. It has ramifications up until this point: I have a book coming out and I struggle to feel that it\u2019s real. It feels like it&#8217;s still happening to the character in the book, not me. Some of this damage is just irreversible.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>Some scientists say memories are unreliable, that you\u2019re actually only remembering the last time you remembered something. Were there moments while writing where you started to question your own memory?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: It did help that I was writing so much throughout [prison]. When you write things down, you actually memorize them better. I was writing my experience in real time. That said, I have a lot of notes I cannot access, they\u2019re all in a big duffel bag hidden in Cairo, too risky to move through an airport. This is a book not only based on my memory. So many of these people have been released from prison, I actually interviewed some of them. For the hunger strike sequence, I had extensive conversations and double-checked what I remembered with people who were there.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">And my father was one of the biggest resources. He has this amazing memory for events and dates. He remembers every hour and date, and he insists on never looking at a calendar or keeping a journal. He considers it an insult to his memory. He was putting in so much time helping me remember things and it was a very interesting dynamic, speaking about these things again with him. It was his more comfortable mode of showing love: not discussing the emotional aspects of prison, but fact-checking it with me.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>Getting to Baba, who is one of the pillars of the book, I kept thinking about how you wished you cared about him less, because then it wouldn\u2019t hurt so much to see him in pain. Has he read the book, and what has he said about it?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: He did, eventually. If you read the book, you know there\u2019s so much guilt because I caused the arrest of Baba. He was not a political person and had nothing to do with any of this. He was only at the protest to chaperone me, basically. Throughout prison, we struggled to communicate affection to one another. I think he just thought I hated him. I struggled to convey how I felt; it got worse, and we ended up in silence because we couldn&#8217;t speak without snapping at one another.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><p class=\"pullquote\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The prisoner\u2019s biggest fear is to be forgotten. Prisoners just always have this phobia of the world moving on from them.<\/p><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">An early reader told me: \u201cYou know what I think this book is? It\u2019s a love letter to Baba.\u201d When he read it, I could tell he was feeling so many things. When I asked him how he felt, he just nodded and said \u201cI understand some things much better now.\u201d That\u2019s it. But I knew, he poured so much time and labor fact-checking it, underlining things, giving me corrections, saying \u201cYou said 132 pardoned prisoners on that list, it was actually 200.\u201d That was how I knew he felt love. Because he was practicing his language of love, which I\u2019ve now learned to translate. He offers his labor very abundantly and unconditionally. This book felt like such a loving closure to a horrific experience we were forced to share together.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>Your cellmate from the very first night, Ayman Moussa, is at the heart of the book too. That first night you both seemed to have so much hope it would all be cleared up and you\u2019d get out, but he\u2019s still there. You recently wrote that you catch yourself waiting for anniversaries, writing eulogies. When did you notice that?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: Everything I spoke about before\u2014killing yourself just enough, retaining enough softness to hold and be held, finding wonder, finding the courage to love\u2014to me, all of that is embodied in mine and Ayman\u2019s friendship in prison. I wrote this in the book, but he kept me laughing, which kept me human. I owe so much of the softness I was able to nurse outside of prison to that relationship. And this is why leaving him behind feels like such a betrayal. It was an unspoken pact between us: everyone leaves but us. For a while that was literally true because everyone was being pardoned and released, and it was just the two of us stuck there. Prison tricks you with a sense of permanency where it feels like things will be that way forever because time is so unmoving and stagnant.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Again, Baba and Ayman are the spines of this book. And for Ayman, it\u2019s important for people who read the book to grasp the immediacy and urgency of the story, because it\u2019s not just a story. Ayman is still behind bars for the 13th year. He\u2019s lost his entire twenties. At this moment, while we\u2019re sitting here talking, he\u2019s still rotting behind the same bars. I hate that we speak about him as though he\u2019s dead, like he\u2019s some kind of story we\u2019re trying to find the wisdom in, waxing poetic, which is what we always do when we remember someone who is right there. He\u2019s literally right across that wall from us and we\u2019re not doing anything material to get him out. He\u2019s not resilient\u2014he just wants to get the fuck out of prison. He doesn\u2019t care about any of that. He wants to be free. So I just want people to finish this book and feel as viscerally enraged as I am that he is not free and he should be.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Now whenever I send him a letter, I try not to offer him hope. I\u2019m just trying to offer him slivers of the life that has been stolen from him. I tell him about concerts and singers and jokes, what I\u2019m reading. He tells me what he\u2019s reading, and the new cellmates he met last month. We just try not to make prison the main event. Any attempt at providing hope feels like bullshit at this point. I don\u2019t have hope, he doesn\u2019t have hope. I\u2019m just more concerned with: how are we trying to hold and be held?<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>I was struck towards the end when you mentioned that you were 22 when you met a fellow political prisoner. You mention it in passing but as a reader I was shocked that we had already been with you for five years, that you had already lost your late teens and early twenties behind bars. And I started to wonder: did you ever think about those on the outside who must have forgotten the political prisoners? Did you feel any resentment?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: I mean there\u2019s a whole throughline in the book that speaks about forgetting all the time, but it is such a huge thing throughout prison. The prisoner\u2019s biggest fear is to be forgotten. Prisoners just always have this phobia of the world moving on from them. And even when people are speaking about political prisoners, it&#8217;s almost always the fresher ones, so people from 2013 are not talked about as much as people who got arrested last month or last week\u2014Egypt is never in shortage.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">People reconcile themselves with the fact that this is a sad thing, but it\u2019s just a thing now. Like, you\u2019re in prison, we\u2019re not, and that\u2019s the way things are. We were always thinking: how in the world is everything moving forward? How is time not stopping for this? How am I in a cage with a locked door? And I\u2019ve been here for five, six, seven years. Someone like Ayman, 13 years. How is everything not pausing?<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It feels very different if you\u2019re a political prisoner while there\u2019s a revolution than it is now, when your incarceration serves nothing. There\u2019s nothing but the years you\u2019re losing in your life and no one cares about that. There\u2019s no monuments erected in your name. No one is even remembering you. It gets to a point where your family is tortured by the fact that this is part of their routine now. It\u2019s hard to go about life normally and encounter all those people in the world who are not waiting for the next prison visit next week like you. The idea of you being in prison is now just a thing that people don\u2019t question, they don\u2019t think about your release in the same way anymore.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">We thought about it all the time, and part of my writing from prison was trying to unsettle that. I\u2019m forcing people to remember me somehow or to keep the conversation going. I don\u2019t want to be erased completely.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>SK: <\/b>Does your heart still soften at the thought of Cairo today, or does it make you angry?<\/p>\n<p><b>AEG<\/b><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">: It\u2019s more a sense of melancholy. I write about this in the book: Cairo, Al-Qahira, the vanquisher. We grow up being told Cairo vanquishes our enemies, and you assume the enemies are the bad people coming to invade. Then you grow up and learn that it\u2019s actually you, because you\u2019re the one being vanquished again and again. I\u2019m sad that I probably won\u2019t get to see it again. I\u2019m trying to accept that this is going to be the case. I do feel like the ideal relationship with Cairo for me would be a long-distance relationship\u2014go hang out for a month every year and then leave.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I left the US for the same reason I can\u2019t go back to Cairo. I vowed that once I left prison, I could not be in a place where I was unable to say and write the things I wanted. In Cairo, so much has been erased\u2014the revolutionary memories we had there, which we now have to pretend didn\u2019t happen and which we cannot speak to each other about. It\u2019s a very Orwellian reality. And I just can\u2019t afford to live that way anymore.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">There\u2019s a quote I keep returning to by Arwa Saleh, writing in 1995 about a very different moment in Egyptian history, but it feels like it was written about the January 25th revolution:<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"padding-left: 40px;\"><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Perhaps the naivete of this dream now brings a smile\u2014maybe more to those of our generation than to anyone else\u2014but I find it far harsher, the hand dealt to the generations who never got to know such abundance. It is for this reason that I wrote of our stillborn dream, for it was not entirely a mirage, as so many of us are now tempted to call it in order to diminish our past. A kind of revenge, I suppose, against the arrogance we once harbored. It was history as well, leaving behind real fragments, and it is strange that we should squander them merely because we were defeated with such humiliating ease.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">That quote is exactly how I feel about the revolution. We are always inclined to belittle what we did and how naive we were and how stupid, because we were defeated with such humiliating ease that we find it difficult to recall. So we squander everything. But I would rather have experienced this, and felt all the terrible and crushing things, than have no experience of such abundance at all.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">_________________________________<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9798217153602\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"276385\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/abdelrahman-elgendy-on-writing-from-inside-a-prison-cell\/huna\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna.jpg\" data-orig-size=\"1400,2145\" 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=\"Huna\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna-668x1024.jpg\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-276385 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna-196x300.jpg\" alt=\"Huna\" width=\"196\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna-196x300.jpg 196w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna-668x1024.jpg 668w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna-768x1177.jpg 768w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna-39x60.jpg 39w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna-1003x1536.jpg 1003w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna-1337x2048.jpg 1337w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna-33x50.jpg 33w, https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Huna.jpg 1400w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 196px) 100vw, 196px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/bookshop.org\/a\/40\/9798217153602\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Huna: A Memoir of Revolution, Prison, and Becoming<\/a> <em>by Abdelrahman ElGendy is available from Hogarth<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>On his third night in detention in Cairo, crammed with sixty other prisoners into a four-by-five meter cell, Abdelrahman ElGendy heard the song for the first time. Belly full after being starved for three days, one of his cellmates began<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":31895,"featured_media":276384,"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":[43071,43069,6,43072,43070,43103,43095],"tags":[99158,7745,1680,9157,112102,58195,11709,112111],"class_list":["post-276383","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-craft-and-advice","category-craftandcriticism","category-features","category-in-conversation","category-literary-criticism","category-memoir","category-politics","tag-abdelrahman-elgendy","tag-egypt","tag-exile","tag-fathers-and-sons","tag-huna","tag-political-prisoner","tag-prison-memoir","tag-samaa-khullar"],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5rKFr-19TN","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Abdelrahman-ElGendy.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276383","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\/31895"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=276383"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/276383\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/276384"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=276383"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=276383"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lithub.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=276383"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}]