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Book Club: Obama's favorite books of 2019 and the most anticipated titles for 2020

Former U.S. President Barack Obama at the Gathering of Rising Leaders in the Asia Pacific, organized by the Obama Foundation in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Dec. 13, 2019. (AP Photo/Vincent Thian)

I sometimes think former President Barack Obama posts his reading list just to remind us that we didn’t always live under a Tweetstorm of anti-intellectual bile. “This has become a fun little tradition for me,” Obama wrote on Instagram earlier this week. “While each of us has plenty that keeps us busy — work and family life, social and volunteer commitments — outlets like literature and art can enhance our day-to-day experiences.” His list contains four of The Post’s top 10 books for 2019, including Bernardine Evaristo’s “Girl, Woman, Other” and Ben Lerner’s “The Topeka School.” Here’s the full list:

“The Age of Surveillance Capitalism: The Fight for a Human Future at the New Frontier of Power,” by Shoshana Zuboff (op-ed).
“The Anarchy: The East India Company, Corporate Violence, and the Pillage of an Empire,” by William Dalrymple.
“Furious Hours: Murder, Fraud, and the Last Trial of Harper Lee,” by Casey Cep (review).
“Girl, Woman, Other,” by Bernardine Evaristo (review).
“The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee: Native America from 1890 to the Present,” by David Treuer (review).
“How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy,” by Jenny Odell (review).
“Lost Children Archive,” by Valeria Luiselli (review).
“Lot: Stories,” by Bryan Washington.
“Normal People,” by Sally Rooney (review).
“The Orphan Master’s Son,” by Adam Johnson (review).
“The Yellow House,” by Sarah M. Broom (interview).
“Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland,” by Patrick Radden Keefe (review).
“Solitary,” by Albert Woodfox (review).
“The Topeka School,” by Ben Lerner (review).
“Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion,” by Jia Tolentino (review).
“Trust Exercise,” by Susan Choi (review).
“We Live in Water: Stories,” by Jess Walter (review).

The late editor Sonny Mehta (Getty Images/File photo)

Most book lovers will never know how deeply their reading lives were shaped by Sonny Mehta. The celebrated editor at Alfred A. Knopf, who died Dec. 30 at 77, was one of the most influential figures in contemporary publishing. (Read The Post’s obituary.) Mehta was a literary connoisseur unencumbered by snobbery. He understood better than anyone that to thrive, a sophisticated publishing house must also publish books that millions of people want to read. The extraordinary breadth of his appreciation allowed him to promote Toni Morrison and EL James, Orhan Pamuk and Michael Crichton. And when he discovered a new author he believed in, his enthusiasm knew no bounds. In 2013, Knopf reportedly bid almost $2 million for “City on Fire,” a debut novel by a 34-year-old writer named Garth Risk Hallberg. Two years later, just before "City on Fire" was published, I received an invitation to have breakfast with Mehta. As I’d heard, there was something Old World about him. He was reserved but solicitous. I tried to camouflage my awe, but I’m sure I was giddy, straining for clever repartee. Although the restaurant in downtown Washington felt unworthy of him, his manner suggested that we could endure it together. If the purpose of our meeting was to push Hallberg’s giant novel on me, he mentioned it only once, glancingly. He was playing three-dimensional chess while I was chasing blueberries around my waffle.

Museum goers check out the 9/11 exhibit at the Newseum on its last day, Dec. 31, 2019, in Washington, D.C. (Photo by Jahi Chikwendiu/The Washington Post)

Like American journalism, the Newseum was always at risk. This week, after 11 years and 10 million visitors, Washington’s museum dedicated to freedom of expression closed down. Its lavish building, just blocks from the U.S. Capitol, was sold off to Johns Hopkins University, which has already announced plans to scrape the text of the First Amendment off the facade. (Symbol alert!) Over the holidays, my family and I went one last time to say goodbye. Yes, the Newseum was expensive — especially in a town of spectacular free museums — and its focus always felt shaky, but we loved its rousing celebration of journalism. Meanwhile, Washington is set to get a brand new museum that’s even more abstractly focused on language: Planet Word will open this spring in an expensively refurbished schoolhouse catty corner to The Washington Post. It’s the brainchild of philanthropist Ann Friedman, the wife of New York Times columnist Tom Friedman. Weirdly, for a museum dedicated to words, Planet Word is not having much luck describing why it should exist. Last fall, Ann Friedman told The Post that her museum “will bring language to life.” Okay. The museum's website claims, “We’ll show every visitor the fun of words and language everywhere they look – from the menu in the café to the walls in the bathrooms,” which brings to mind a classic limerick but not much else. My concern is piqued by this description: “Innovative, playful, and immersive exhibits and experiences will beckon visitors to explore the power of words . . . through multi-sensory and physical activities.” This sounds like a glitzy palace in which hordes of children tear around madly pressing buttons, but I really should withhold my words until I get inside.

(HarperCollins Leadership; Macmillan Audio; Penguin Audio; Penguin Audio)

Listen up. These were the most popular audiobooks in public libraries during 2019:

“Redemption,” by David Baldacci, narrated by Kyf Brewer and Orlagh Cassidy.
“Girl, Stop Apologizing,” by Rachel Hollis, narrated by the author (profile).
“The Silent Patient,” by Alex Michaelides, narrated by Jack Hawkins.
“The 18th Abduction,” by James Patterson and Maxine Paetro, narrated by January LaVoy.
“Daisy Jones & The Six,” by Taylor Jenkins Reid, narrated by Jennifer Beals and others.
“City of Girls,” by Elizabeth Gilbert, narrated by Blair Brown (review).
“The Big Kahuna,” by Janet Evanovich and Peter Evanovich, narrated by Scott Brick.
“The Lost Girls of Paris,” by Pam Jenoff, narrated by Elizabeth Knowelden and others (interview).
“Talking to Strangers,” by Malcolm Gladwell, narrated by the author (review).
“An Anonymous Girl,” by Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekkanen, narrated by Barrie Kreinik and Julia Whelan.

This list is based on circulation data from about 18,000 North American libraries that use the OverDrive digital platform (almost all do). Incidentally, on Dec. 24, OverDrive announced that it was being bought by the global investment firm KKR. This may sound like very inside baseball. After all, millions of people check out ebooks and audiobooks from their local libraries without knowing anything about OverDrive, and KKR lurks even further in the shadows of our lives. But similar media buys by other investment firms have savaged American newspapers. Could this OverDrive deal portend the same decline for digital content in libraries? Consider that KKR already owns RBmedia, “the largest audiobook producer in the world.” A judicious story in American Libraries magazine notes that “KKR’s Christmas Eve announcement sounded many alarm bells in the library community.” But the writer goes on to suggest that a more powerful OverDrive — perhaps combined with RBmedia — could actually help libraries by negotiating better deals with publishers. Maybe. Keep your eyes open.

(Courtesy of Greenpeace)

Greenpeace has enlisted Lauren Groff to help raise public awareness about climate change. Groff, the celebrated author of five books — including one of President Obama’s favorites, “Fates and Furies” — is curating the Climate Visionaries Artists' Project. Each day in January, Greenpeace will post a new essay related to the challenges of climate change. Groff kicked off the series on Jan. 1 with a fiery condemnation of the artistic community’s passivity. “It is rare,” she writes, “to find a book or a song or a film or a statue deeply engaged with the work of describing, tracing the evil taproots of, thinking about the most urgent catastrophe in human history, the thing that will affect every other urgency, from pandemics to starvation to tribalism to air and water rights. Instead, we are getting art that would have seemed essential thirty years ago.” Future entries will be written by Min Jin Lee, Karen Russell, Nathaniel Rich, Ada Limón and others.

Courtney Milan's Twitter critique of Kathryn Lynn Davis's “Somewhere Lies the Moon” on Aug 25, 2019, ignited a controversy that has roiled the Romance Writers of America.

There’s much unhappiness in the land of happily ever after. The Romance Writers of America, a trade association with more than 9,000 members, has exploded into internecine warfare. Here’s the gist: This summer, best-selling author Courtney Milan tweeted out a scathing condemnation of a novel called “Somewhere Lies the Moon,” by fellow romance writer Kathryn Lynn Davis. Highlighting the story’s cliches and stereotypes, Milan called the book a “racist mess.” With remarkable clumsiness, the RWA responded to Milan’s concerns about racism in Davis's work by censuring Milan. The Ethics Committee ruled that by posting negative comments about another writer’s work, Milan had violated “the organization’s expressed purpose of creating a ‘safe and respectful environment’ for its community of writers.” Members began resigning in protest and complaining about procedural irregularities and institutional racism. Just before Christmas, the RWA leadership rescinded its censure of Milan, noted that it was seeking legal advice and reiterated its “support for diversity, inclusivity and equity.” But the flames had already spread. The RWA president and at least eight board members have resigned. Painful as it is, this discussion is a good thing for the romance genre, a $1 billion industry that represents about a quarter of the fiction market. Nora Roberts, the queen of romance, hasn’t been a member of RWA for years, but she posted a statement that’s a model of humility, candor and optimism. She recalls that back in 2005 the RWA thought it was “fine to have a character fall in love with a freaking vampire, but not someone of the same sex.” She notes that she and others objected, and the organization eventually saw the light. “I hope that light continues to shine,” she writes, “and by doing so may change RWA for the good, may remind those in leadership positions what the purpose was all those years ago. To support and advocate for romance writers. Not specific kinds of romance writers.”

Kepler's Books in Menlo Park, Calif. (Ron Charles/The Washington Post)

I asked some great indie bookstores around the country what book they’re really excited about for 2020:

Tattered Cover in Denver: “I can't wait for 'Uncanny Valley,' by New Yorker contributor Anna Wiener,” says Bethany Strout, director of buying. “This memoir follows Wiener as she moves from the paper-based, decidedly non-data driven world of book publishing to the start-up boom in Silicon Valley. With humor and a critical eye, Wiener covers the tech industry’s blasé acceptance of data mining, casual sexual harassment and outsize impact on the surrounding cities — but she also hilariously contrasts it with the world of book publishing, where the assistants can’t afford to buy the hardcover books they work on and every decision seems like it’s based on a guess. This tragicomic memoir is perfect for anyone who uses technology without fully understanding it (so, most people?)."
Kepler’s in Menlo Park, Calif.: “‘Apeirogon,’ by Colum McCann, is an epic story about Palestine and Israeli war, but in the heart of this novel is a story about two grieving fathers from the opposite sides of the conflict, united in their grief after unimaginable loss of their young daughters, both killed in two separate acts of radical violence,” says buyer and inventory manager Aggie Zivaljevic. “The title of the book comes from a geometric shape with a countably infinite number of sides, similar to the fragmented structure of this book, with its one thousand and one short chapters. Much like ‘One Thousand and One Nights,’ this unparalleled novel weaves a mesmerizing tale of survival and hope. McCann is our modern Shahrazad, pleading for the senseless killing to stop.”
Books & Books in Miami: “'American Dirt,' by Jeanine Cummins is a book we at Books & Books and I personally are looking forward to,” says the store’s founder, Mitchell Kaplan. “It’s been a very long time that a book has come along and galvanized early readers, from booksellers across the country, the best readers I know, to an array of writers as diverse as Stephen King, John Grisham, Don Winslow and Julia Alvarez. And, what makes this most sweet is that all the praise is spot on. I read an early galley and feel this story of a woman fleeing Mexico with her son brings the immigrant experience into sharp, relatable focus while never easing up. It will be the rare reader who will put 'American Dirt' down for even a few minutes before its end.”
The Strand in New York: “I think Anna Wiener’s insider memoir, ‘Uncanny Valley,’ will become a critical text as we assess the effects of Silicon Valley's tech and start-up culture on all aspects of our society,” says owner Nancy Bass Wyden.
Square Books in Oxford, Miss.: “Lee Durkee’s debut novel, ‘Rides of the Midway,’ was published in 2001,” says manager Lyn Roberts. “This funny and affecting bildungsroman set in Mississippi perfectly captured the '70s. Almost 20 years later, Durkee delivers his sophomore novel, ‘The Last Taxi Driver,’ about a driver, Lou, in a small town, pre-Uber. In a fever dream of fares, Lou shares his philosophy, knowledge and rules for driving. By turns hilarious, angry and sweet, once again Durkee perfectly captures the mood of our time.”
One More Page in Arlington, Va.: “We all know the story of the Titanic, but few know about her sister ship, the Britannic,” says book buyer Lelia Nebeker. “Alma Katsu’s ‘The Deep’ explores both ship's journeys through the eyes of a young stewardess (and later nurse) who is haunted by her past — and possibly haunted by something else in a more literal sense. Strange things have been happening on the ship, and as the point of view shifts between passengers from all walks of life, the reader is left to wonder who among them is responsible for the eerie occurrences. No one brings history to life — and adds a dash of otherworldly terror — like Alma Katsu. The depth of her research is matched only by the richness of the world and the characters that she builds. And while you might think you know how this story will end, it keeps you guessing until the final chapter.

An early episode of the Totally Hip Video Book Review from 2012. (Ron Charles/The Washington Post)

Years ago when I told my Great Aunt Cecelia that I was going to be a book critic, she said, “Surely, nobody’s going to pay you to do that.” She was wrong in this particular case, but she had her pulse on the market at large. The country’s newspaper book review pages evaporated in the 21st century. (How many book critics does it take to change a lightbulb? Forget the lightbulb — we need a listicle of favorite cat toys!) Those of us who remain occupy one of the most tenuous positions in an extraordinarily tenuous industry. That seems to be what attracted the attention of Phillipa K. Chong, a sociology professor at McMaster University in Ontario, Canada. She’s just published a book called “Inside the Critics’ Circle: Book Reviewing in Uncertain Times” (Princeton Univ. Press). Granted, the audience for such a study is small, made smaller by sentences like, “Grounding my study of uncertainty in the lived experiences of agents of evaluation results in a phenomenologically accurate portrait of evaluating work, as well as a richer appreciation of how uncertainty and its related contingencies structure action.” But if you can suffer the graduate-school flashbacks and you’re interested in how reviewers think about their job, Chong offers rare insight. (Disclosure: I was one of the many people she interviewed.) Her basic conclusion is that critics work without the benefit of any professional solidarity or guiding principles, which leaves them feeling isolated and ambivalent about their judgments. “Many critics, then, do not describe feeling empowered while occupying the relatively powerful role of cultural consecrator,” she writes. “The high degree of uncertainty that characterizes reviewing culminates in feelings of vulnerability throughout various points in the review process.” This may explain why, after more than 20 years of “consecrating,” I’m still filled with nauseous dread every night before one of my reviews is published.

Protesters damage property inside the U.S. embassy compound in Baghdad, Iraq, Dec 31, 2019. (AP Photo/Khalid Mohammed)

The violence in Baghdad this week is a terrifying reminder of Iraq’s precarious condition. Journalist and poet Dunya Mikhail was forced to flee her native Iraq in 1996 and now teaches at Oakland University in Michigan. When I interviewed her in 2016 as part of the Life of a Poet series co-sponsored by the Library of Congress, I discovered a writer caught between memories of her homeland’s beauty and destruction.
I Was In A Hurry
Yesterday I lost a country.
I was in a hurry,
and didn't notice when it fell from me
like a broken branch from a forgetful tree.
Please, if anyone passes by
and stumbles across it,
perhaps in a suitcase
open to the sky,
or engraved on a rock
like a gaping wound,
or wrapped
in the blankets of emigrants,
or canceled
like a losing lottery ticket,
or helplessly forgotten
in Purgatory,
or rushing forward without a goal
like the questions of children,
or rising with the smoke of war,
or rolling in a helmet on the sand,
or stolen in Ali Baba's jar,
or disguised in the uniform of a policeman
who stirred up the prisoners
and fled,
or squatting in the mind of a woman
who tries to smile,
or scattered
like the dreams
of new immigrants in America.
If anyone stumbles across it,
return it to me please.
Please return it, sir.
Please return it, madam.
It is my country...
I was in a hurry
when I lost it yesterday.
From “The War Works Hard,” published by New Directions. Copyright © 2005 by Dunya Mikhail. Translation copyright © 2005 by Elizabeth Winslow. Used by permission of the author.
Happy New Year! If you have any questions or comments about this weekly newsletter or The Post’s book coverage, contact me at ron.charles@washpost.com. And if you know someone who would enjoy this newsletter, please forward it to them. To subscribe, click here.