My Friends, by Hisham Matar: On the Loneliness of Exile

Hisham Matar's 2024 National Book Award-finalist novel My Friends is about making your way in the world when you can't go home again. It's about the loneliness of exile, the importance of friendship, and the horrors of authoritarianism.

Imagine your life being on pause for more than 25 years. You exist in limbo, away from your country, apart from your family, even having to lie to them, knowing your infrequent correspondence and even more infrequent conversations are monitored. Such is the fate of our narrator, Khaled, a Libyan national who arrives in Edinburgh in 1984 on a university scholarship. Young and idealistic, but also naive, Khaled becomes swept up in political currents much stronger than his ability to deal with him.

He rues the day he didn't listen more closely to his university friend, who told him when he arrived in Edinburgh: "I have resigned myself to the fact that I live in a world of unreasonable men and the only reasonable thing to do in this situation is, best we can, avoid their schemes."

So for reasons I won't spoil, Khaled becomes stuck in the UK. He can't return home because if he does, he likely won't be allowed to leave Libya again. Being trapped in an authoritarian state, though, might be the best case scenario. In a worst case scenario, he'd be murdered by the regime, as so many before him had.

So he stays in London, building a life with his friend, Mustafa, and later, a writer named Hosam Zawa, who'd been one of the inspirations for him to go to university and study literature in the first place.

When the revolution breaks out in the spring of 2011, each of these men must again weigh his priorities. Each man must take an accounting of his courage. 

The pace of this novel is deliberate and contemplative, and the tone is sober and earnest. The story is told in 108 short chapters, which gives the effect of pulling you along a little more quickly than you might read otherwise. But to me this still felt a little like homework. Yes, it's a VERY GOOD NOVEL. The reviews are universally exceptional and it's won tons of literary awards. But it felt more like something I *should* be reading, like a long New Yorker expose, than something I'd read strictly for pleasure. That said, I'm still really glad I read it. It's a stunning piece of literary fiction, and provides fascinating context and a new perspective on events on which I'd only known a little about.  

Shelf Lives, Vol. 1: Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Today I'm excited to introduce a new feature at the New Dork Review of Books: Shelf Lives.

Here's the story behind Shelf Lives: My bookshelf is a trip into my past. Every book there has a story about how I came to it, when/where I bought/read it, and what was going on in my life at the time I bought/read it. Many, probably most, of these stories are pretty mundane. Some are not, and these are the stories I want to tell. Why does a book make me feel a certain kind of way when I catch a glimpse of it sitting on my shelf? What specific memories does it evoke? What connections does my brain immediately begin making to music, food, time/place, and other books? 

Over the years, I've had to purge hundreds of books from my shelves to avoid being buried, so the ones that remain are truly special. Getting older makes you nostalgic, and so I decided I wanted to spend a post or two each month writing about some of the stories behind my most beloved books. It's entirely possible these stories are only interesting to me. But I do hope you enjoy them too. I also hope these stories give you occasion to think about the stories behind your own most-loved books.

---

Volume 1: Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

It's Labor Day weekend, 2013, and my then-fiancée-now-wife's mother is in town to help her shop for wedding dresses. So I decide to make myself scarce and head out on an epic road trip. My plan is to drive around the Midwest to new-to-me bookstores, including Prairie Lights in Iowa City, Rainy Day Books in Kansas City, and Subterranean Books and Left Bank Books in St. Louis, among others. 

I wrote a blow-by-blow account of this pretty epic adventure here. (Amazingly, the links to the photos on Flickr still work! Also, I still have the trusty blue Honda Civic. 😅) Writing about that trip was nearly as much as the trip itself. Rereading that post now makes me laugh. 

So of course I came back from that trip with a huge stack of new books. But of all the books I bought on that trip, by far the most enduring, most important, and my favorite is Adichie's Americanah. I've written a lot about how much I love this book (here is my original raving review), and I've been thinking about it a lot lately as I'm about to read her new novel, Dream Count (out March 4) -- her first novel since Americanah. 

Americanah is such a terrific examination of American foibles (especially related to race) and so it remains a perfect match in my mind for that road trip, in which I also discovered my share of Americana and American foibles -- the dude who draped his jeans and underwear over the bed of his truck (presumably to dry after he'd washed them in his room? I hope?) in the parking lot of a motel, for instance. 

Even though I didn't actually read the novel until two months after this road trip, Americanah and that adventure are inextricably linked in my mind. This was also the first time I'd read Adichie, and I've since read every word she's written -- easily one of my top 5 favorite writers.

Because I loved the book so much, and think about it often, the book also gives me an excuse to think back fondly on that trip. Maybe it's time to do that again. I never re-read books, but maybe it's time to give Americanah another look, too. 

Are You Ready to Rock?! Here Are 6 Amazing Music Novels

There is no subgenre of novel I love more than books about music. And I just finished what will likely wind up as one my all-time favorites. Deep Cuts, by Holly Brickley, is a novel about collaboration and inspiration, about jealousy and love, and, simply put, making great art. It's stunning to me that this is a debut novel, but it's the best thing I've read so far this year.

Brickley's novel got me thinking about some of my all-time favorite books in this subgenre. Here are six:

The Song Is You, by Arthur Phillips -- This is a bit of a deep cut itself, but I deeply love this book about a sad, mid-40s divorced man and a beautiful Irish singer who sort of fall in love with each other through their mutual love of music, though without ever meeting in person. Brickley's novel reminded me a lot of this book in terms of how the characters sort of flit in and out of each other's lives and speak to each other through various non-in-person channels. This novel came out in 2009 and was one of the inspirations for actually starting to write about books in some sort of formal way -- and lo and behold The New Dork Review of Books was born. One note about this book, if you decide to pick it up: Almost everyone else who has read it has HATED it. I'm definitely in the minority of people who really liked it.

Lo Fi, by Liz Riggs -- Another debut, this one set in Nashville, about an aspiring songwriter navigating love and life as she tries to find her voice as a musician. Riggs writes with a phenomenal sense of place here, and even if you've never been to a sweaty Nashville club, this novel is a great facsimile. 

Charm City Rocks, by Matthew Norman -- It's not a coincidence that so many novels about music are also love stories, and this one is too. An affable middle-aged dude who harbors a crush for a drummer in an all-female band takes a chance (well, sort of) and contacts her. Will they or won't they? A charming romcom with music at its heart, I loved this book!

Mary Jane, by Jessica Anya Blau -- This coming-of-age story gives big-time Almost Famous vibes. It's about a teenaged girl who spends a summer at the beach as a nanny and meets a famous rockstar who is trying to get clean. Mary Jane begins to realize her so-far sheltered life is not how the world really is. 

Gone to the Wolves, by John Wray -- People are always a little surprised when they find out I love heavy metal. But I do, and I loved this book about a group of teenagers in the 1980s who become obsessed with black metal. The novel is based on a real-life events about the tragic black metal band Havoc. If you know even a little bit of their bonkers story, you'll love this book. There's some great 80s metal references throughout, as well. The characters all sit around and listen to "...and Justice For All" when it for comes out. And at one point in the novel, they're at a glam-rock party in Los Angeles, and one of the characters muses about how if someone just took a look around and laughed, the whole scene would collapse under the weight of its own ridiculousness. It's funny because it's true. 

Daisy Jones & the Six, by Taylor Jenkins Reid -- Though the hipster characters in Holly Brickey's novel would probably not enjoy this obvious choice, Reid's novel (along with High Fidelity) are the two main comps for Deep Cuts. 

A Couple of Bright Bookish Things in Otherwise Dark Times

In January 2017 when the Orange Thing began his first term of catastrophic assault on human decency, good governance, and basic common sense, I had the most productive reading month of my life -- 12 books in those 31 days. That certainly wasn't a coincidence. Nor is it this time, when I've been almost maniacally productive in January in terms of reading, writing here, and writing generally. Keeping yourself busy with things you love is absolutely crucial in times of gathering darkness. And, friends? Things are bleak. Anyway...sorry not sorry for the speech. Hugs to everyone. 

Here are two fun things I worked on in January, both of which were actually published this week.

I got to interview Nickolas Butler for the Chicago Review of Books --  I've loved Butler's work since I read his debut Shotgun Lovesongs in 2014. We've met in person a few times since (he did a reading at RoscoeBooks a couple years ago), and he's an absolutely delightful person. 

His new novel, A Forty-Year Kiss, is out today! It's a sweet, heartwarming story about second chances in life and love. PLEASE BUY IT -- the hardcover is a truly beautiful physical object, complete with variegated sprayed edges and colored inset pages. It feels like a collector's edition! 

We actually did the interview on Zoom (as opposed to over email) and it was so much fun getting to talk with him. I think I even annoyed him at one point, asking him if his new novel could've taken place anywhere but in the Midwest. 😂 I think he's tired of being asked that about his books. But he's such a kind human, he wouldn't overtly show annoyance. If you've liked his other novels, you'll love this one too. And if he's a new-to-you writer, I urge you to take a chance on him and give him a read. 

---

I'm on a new episode of the Chicago Writers Podcast -- I once again got to join host Dan Finnen and now-cohost and editor-in-chief of the Chicago Review of Books, Michael Welch, as well as CHIRB managing director Rachel Leon to talk about books. The angles this time were a short review of our favorite books of 2024, and then a longer discussion of our most anticipated 2025 books. (Spoiler: A Forty-Year Kiss was one of my picks. Everything is connected.) I also talked a little bit about Emily Henry, which I guess you'll have to listen to believe. 

Death of the Author, by Nnedi Okorafor: Stories are Like Gods

The hardcover edition of Nnedi Okorafor's new exhilaratingly original novel, Death of the Author, includes a tagline at the top that says "The future of storytelling is here." I'd already been planning to read this book after reading a great review in the Chicago Review of Books, but the first time I saw that tagline, I thought, "hmm, okay, so some publishing marketing person has gotten a little out of their skis here. But fine." Turns out that line is a really funny and terrifically clever inside joke which you only get when you to the very end of this book. 

And read this book, you should! It's as inventive and fun as storytelling gets. It's really three stories in one. We have the main story about Zelu, at rock bottom of her writing career and fired from her adjunct professor job, who then pens a majestically successful sci-fi novel titled Rusted Robots. The second story is the text of Rusted Robots itself. And the third includes interviews with friends and family of Zelu giving important context to Zelu's life and career.

Regarding that last part, one of the themes of this novel is how we should rise above expectations or even limitations imposed upon us by family and friends who may think they have our best interest at heart, but maybe don't. Zelu's ever increasingly "crazy" ideas (though they don't seem to crazy to her), like volunteering for an MIT engineer's experiment to fit her crippled legs with exoskeletons so she can walk again, grate on her family who think she's just doing things, like writing bestselling novels, for attention. But this is her life! These are her decisions, and no one else's! 

All the while, we get segments of Rusted Robots, a story about a post-human apocalyptic class of robots called Humes who are in a war of survival with a cadre of sentient AIs called Ghosts. Except an unexpected thing happens: A Hume named Ankara falls in love or at least like or maybe just a symbiotic relationship with an AI name Ijele. Expectations subverted again!

Of course, telling a story with another story (soooo meta) isn't itself original. But how all three pieces of this novel converse with each really is so smart. Yes, it's a novel (that subverts expectations) about subverting expectations, but it's also about the origins of stories and the power of storytelling, which I'm always here for. A few quotes from the novel: 

"Stories contain our existence; they are like gods. And the fact that we create them from living, experiencing, listening, thinking, feeling, giving — they remind me what’s great about being alive."

And, cogent perhaps to today's moment: "What better time to listen to a story than when the world is about to end?" 

I'd been looking for an onramp to read Okorafor for a while. She's a hugely popular writer with rabid fans. This is it! I highly recommend this as something to jolt you out of a reading slump or just if you need something new and different.