What to read next, based on the texts you’re sending about the Olympics.
I knew the Olympics had begun when my phone started buzzing. Big events like the Games currently underway in Paris are like embers drifting on the wind, igniting thousands of group chats across the globe.
Much as Ancient Roman oracles believed that the flight of birds could unveil the future, so today does behavior in a group thread reveal a person’s true character. So gaze into my crystal blog, dear reader, and I’ll show you what book you should pick up next, based on what you’re texting about the world of international sport.
* * *
For you, the Games peak early. The big show that is the opening ceremony, with dancing, music, and performance, is exactly the star-studded spectacle you love. You’re a fan: you miss having a locker where you can hang up pictures. You have a prepared list of reasons why certain celebrities would 100% be friends with you. You’ve DMed a pop star.
What to read next? Esther Yi’s Y/N, about a woman whose obsession with a pop singer sends her on a surreal journey, will speak to the devoted fan-fiction reader in you.
* * *
The Olympics are great if you’re the type of person who is always looking for a reason to plan an elaborate event. You love to create a menu of pun-named foods for your Oscar party, enforce a strict dress code for a family reunion, throw the only Arbor Day party in history. You’re a creator and a designer, and people either love your intensely planned soirees, or they dread the enforced rigidity of your planning.
You remind me of the creative main characters in The Book of Goose by Yiyun Li: intensely inventive and with a knack for conjuring new worlds, but perhaps a bit unaware of how those plans are shaping the world around you.
* * *
You’re an observer, a noticer, a gatherer of information. It’s not necessarily malicious, but you’re always scooping up crumbs and squirreling them away: that tall man in the coffee shop orders flat whites, the neighbors take out their trash in the early afternoon, socks and sandals seem to be fashionable now.
So of course you’re going to keep tabs on who’s watching what, who’s tuning into the ping pong quarterfinals, and who has gymnastics open next to their Zoom window. Naturally, a spy novel is your cup of tea: try the modern espionage hits Transcription by Kate Atkinson or Slough House by Mick Herron.
…But you probably already knew I was going to recommend that, didn’t you?
* * *
You love the personal backstory and the pathos at the Games — who cares what these athletes do, what matters is who they are and why they compete. Those little narrated biographical videos that introduce an athlete, complete with soft-focus shots of small towns and interviews with high school teachers, are more fascinating to you than who gets which medal.
For your next book, pick up something vast and multigenerational that weaves together deep lore, like Claire Messud’s new This Strange Eventful History or Ed Park’s incredible novel, Same Bed Different Dreams.
* * *
The Olympics are simple to you: America is good, and large numbers are good, so the more medals America gets is big good. Simple. Your wardrobe features many articles of clothing with American flags on them and you’ve shed tears while watching a fireworks display.
I suppose it’s nice to feel pride in where you’re from — though it’s a tall order as an American — but staking too much in which country is winning the most medals is, in this blogger’s opinion, freak behavior. Enjoy the competition, but the geopolitics of the Games are so much more interesting and complicated than the overall number of wins.
It’s time to go deeper on the U.S.: start with Negroland by Margo Jefferson, a brilliant exploration of race and class in America, or How To Hide An Empire by Daniel Immerwahr, which will redefine your understanding of where America is on the globe.
* * *
Winning a medal is cool, but a little obvious. Devote yourself single-mindedly to one sport for your entire life, scrape your way into the upper echelon of competitors, and overcome the pressure to win the defining prize of your career? I guess it’s okay, but we’ve seen it all before.
But what if you could get a medal in a new way? You know that the real way to “get your hands on the hardware,” as some TV commentators love to say, is to get it after the fact, by earning the trust of a medal-winning sporto, and making off with the trophy. It’s a much better story, and you don’t have to break a sweat on international TV.
If this kind of caper appeals to you, I recommend the funniest novel I’ve read in a long time, My Search For Warren Harding by Robert Plunket. This weird, sort-of-heist novel offers a dizzily satirical view of ‘80s LA, and is full of jokes — Danzy Senna’s introduction makes the convincing claim that Seinfeld likely drew some direct inspiration from the novel. Trigger warnings abound, but shouldn’t put you off: the protagonist is very mean and casual with cruel and demeaning language, but the joke is almost always on him, though he can rarely see it.
* * *
You’re extremely cocky and have little self-awareness — you’re the kind of person who doesn’t even consider saying no to a dare. You’ve eaten bugs, jumped off of roofs into pools, and are the “come on, let’s have one more!” friend at the bar. The Olympics are the perfect time for you to make outrageous claims based on your inflated sense of yourself.
Read the globe-trotting satire about another man who thought he could do it all, The Adventures and Misadventures of the Extraordinary and Admirable Joan Orpí, Conquistador and Founder of New Catalonia by Max Besora. Based on a real 17th-century Spaniard, Besora’s novel is a darkly funny and playful book about a time when men who said “I bet I could do that” became explorers and colonizers.
* * *
You admire the hard work and sweat that goes into becoming a top-tier athlete. You’re inspired to change yourself and your life, and you know that you need planning, commitment, and a lot of spreadsheets to pull it off. You have a five-year plan, keep a list of all the books you’ve read in your life, and if you’re not a bullet journaler, you’ve at least seriously considered it.
Read Lauren Groff’s excellent novel Matrix, a beautifully written and deeply felt story about a 12th-century prioress, who masterfully remakes her life and her abbey, finding herself and creating a lush world for the nuns under her care. You’ll be inspired by the main character’s meticulous planning for the quotidian, and by the way Groff lyrically and movingly describes encounters with the divine.
