For most of my life, and I’ll warrant for most of yours, Pluto was the Great Unknown in the solar system. Take any volume on astronomy from the 1990s or early 2000s, and you would find no shortage of pictures or data on everything from Mercury to Neptune, including many moons. Pluto, though, was an enigma; the best one might find was a photo of a hazy orb, and similarly nebulous guesses at its surface and atmosphere. Unlike the gas giants who were visited by the Voyager Program in the 1970s Pluto was never visited by probes from Earth – until 2015, when a mission launched in 2006 and planned for decades resulted in the first flyby of the coldest of planets. Chasing New Horizons is a history of that project, which had to surmount both technical and political challenges, which incorporates the complete history of Pluto from its discovery in the 1930s onward. It’s a stirring story of hope, creative thinking, and sheer cussed determination that have resulted in a boon of wonder and information.
Pluto was the last planet of the traditional nine to be discovered, and it was done so by a young student named Clyde Tombaugh, at the Lowell Observatory in Flagstaff Arizona. Lowell himself had predicted the existence of an object in that area, but it was Tombaugh’s incredible patience and careful deliberation that exposed that tiny white spot so far away from us and everything else. It remained a complete unknown even into the late seventies, when its moon Charon was spotted and the Voyager program began its sweep of the great giants. Although many young astronomers began thinking about Pluto as the next obvious place to study, finding the resources to make that happen was a challenge. Chasing New Horizons documents multiple missions and approaches in the late eighties and nineties that were in various stages of planning and development when the prospective funding for them disappeared; the most disappointing of these would have been a mid-1990s collaboration with Russia, in which an American satellite would be launched from a Russian rocket, sharing credit and greatly reducing the costs of a Pluto flyby from the American end. Russia wanted some marginal financial compensation for the use of the rocket, but US laws at the time made that impossible. In the early 2000s, though, continued planning passes at a Pluto project resulted in a mission that would both excite the scientists and pass muster with NASA’s accountants, and New Horizons lifted off just in time to be informed that it would be visiting not the smallest planet, but the biggest of the Kuiper-Belt Objects. Uh, thanks? (The authors very much disapproved of the IAU’s decision and called it names.) The mission of New Horizons’ human team wasn’t over then, though: for the next decade they had to carefully monitor the probe on its way, responding to technical hiccoughs by improvising on the fly and finding ways to shepherd resources carefully until the probe could arrive and begin taking its surveys. Then, of course, it stopped responding to NASA….but for that story you’ll want to read Chasing for yourself!
Yes, this is a real book. It’s in an Alabama e-book consortium’s catalog. I’m tempted to check it out just so I can read it and post a mercilessly mocking review.
What a way to finish 2022, in reading this superb collection of Wendell Berry’s essays. Berry has published no small amount of essay collections himself, and some of the WEF pieces have previously appeared in those volumes. What distinguishes Paul Kingsnorth’s World Ending Fire is its comprehensiveness, in bringing together Berry essays from 1968 onward that cover the full spread of Berry’s thinking – on agarianism, politics, national security, and local culture. It is a fitting tribute to the poet-farmer of Kentucky, for these topics are not individual ones for him, viewed in isolate, but all one of a piece. There’s no better introduction to his extensive reflection on the fate and future of American life.
In his first nonfiction volume, The Unsettling of America, Berry connected the ongoing dissolution of agrarian America to other problems in American life, like the breakdown of American family culture, rising environmental concerns in a polluted and frequently denuded landscape, and the supply chain crises of the industrial economy. That overarching connection is the foundation for the essays collected in The World-Ending Fire, that title referring to what Berry calls ‘industrial fundamentalism’. Without referencing G.K. Chesterton, without perhaps even being aware of GKC’s distributist writings, Berry nonetheless echoes him in his criticism of big capital, in the concentration of economic production and the revenues thereof into fewer and fewer hands, in the reduction of human beings into mere biological machines for, warm-blooded cogs to pull levers and then go home to buy products. The world-ending-fire has consequences for man, society, and the land: the difficult but varied and rewarding work of old has been reduced to the meaningless work of moving a cursor around a screen in the modern age to pad the revenue pages of someone else ; industrial titans are far removed from the lands they own and dominate, and unaware or uncaring of the damage they do to it so long as revenue covers it; and civilization itself becomes more fragile, dependent on monocultures vulnerable to disease, on complex logistical supply chains. The family home is reduced to a place where things are consumed, or hoarded, not created; the family itself disappears in reality, if not in name, as husband and wife are no longer partners in the work, but atomized individuals who have merely made a convenient partnership, and the moment it becomes inconvenient it will be discarded like an empty soda can, a broken watch, or an unwanted embryo. Individuals themselves are reduced to subjects, powerless and impotent in the hands of corporations and the state. Alienation is the chief creation of industrial fundamentalism: man is alienated from the land, from his labor, from those around him. We have fallen from fellow creatures working in communion with one another to consumers standing in line at Wal-Mart staring at tik-tok at the same time, ‘together’ in place but as far from one another as the stars in their courses.
The World-Ending Fire is a book deep in thought, in passion, in meaning. Readers need not agree with Berry on every point, but they will not be able to dismiss him because his criticisms address so much, and at so personal a level. Like Ed Abbey, who counted him as a friend despite their frequent arguments, he is unboxable – a critic of the political left and right, seeing both as largely married to the same beast – though there are those on the Old Right, those who draw from Russell Kirk instead of Buckley and the neocon & corporate-conmen who followed him – who would recognize in Berry’s defense of the local and particular, in his prudence and deep respect for the continuity of creation – the debt we owe the past and future, being stewards of the present – an unqualified ally, separated only by his emphasis on creation rather than creator. He certainly stands more easily among them with the modern left, even environmentalists – for they only envision a world saved by the use of more energy, by more doodads, by more organization and dictation — if difficulties must be endured, Other People can endure them. Certainly not the silk-tie set who fly their jets across the world to lecture the peasants on how un-green they are, who gin up wars and collect their dividends from Raytheon and Hailiburton. “Sustainability is a context” is not a phrase uttered by Berry, but it is certainly one believed by him; in these essays we find rebukes of those who believe we can consume our way into greener and happier times, who bemoan the unsustainability of industrial civilization yet do nothing with their lives to reduce their own complicity – -who do not simplify their lives, who turn on the AC at the first blush of heat, who do not even bother to start a seed in a pot but are happy to pat themselves on the back for buying Certified Organic at Trader Joe’s. Berry does not exempt himself from his rebukes; he is particularly chagrined about his own dependence on automobiles.
As I read Berry, I argue with him myself; I am tugged between opposing values and the facts they arm themselves with. I am someone who started taking some of Berry’s prescriptions long before I ever read him, and yet I am compelled to wonder if there is a way out, a road home, that does not begin with disaster. Even if the long-awaited savior, The Demographic Transition, allowed human numbers to taper down to a level where small-scale agriculture of the kind practiced and advocated by Berry can comfortably feed all, the question remains: would we want it? The problem is that I don’t think so. We are opioid-hooked chimps, but our opiods are a little more than literal. We are addicted to comfort, to easy entertainment, to pretending that the only costs imposed are those appended to the product with a sticky label. Never mind that we are papering over those human costs with petty pleasures — that we turn our creative energy from the real to the virtual, investing time in creating digital worlds instead of restoring and cultivating our own — that we chase pleasures in dance halls and pill bottles and glowing TV screens instead of ordering our lives to create a deep and lasting contentment. Never mind that processed food sabotages our bodies and that we attempt to escape the consequences of our diets and disordered lives with more products, dependent forever on pharmaceutical companies sustained by our continuing ailments. It is only when we stumble upon the Real that we realize how starved we have been — Little Debbies and snapchat streaks compare badly against garden-grown blackberry pies and intimate conversation with a loved one.
I don’t think Berry has all the right answers, but he certainly asks many of the questions that need to be asked. He recognizes much of what has gone wrong, and he offers a taste of the Real — a vision of what we have lost, as a way to working toward its restoration — not only a healthy relationship with this Eden we were told to dress and keep, but toward a truly humane life.
I have struggled with hard habits in my life. I have found these hard habits are only broken by harder habits. Nature abhors a vacuum, meaning I cannot just quit doing something in my life without replacing it with something else. When I am tearing down one habit in my life, I need to simultaneously be threading a new cord of habit. As the new cable becomes strengthened, it guides me, helps keep me making the right decision even in times when I do not want the right path. Intention becomes choice, choice becomes action, action becomes habit, habit becomes character.
Unbroken: Meditations on Suffering in the Right Direction, Jason French
Ten Kindle Titles I Forgot I Owned
In the spirit of New Years’ resolutions and my particular goal to finish off Mount TBR but good, here are ten Kindle titles that I own but will probably ignore this year while prioritizing the physical pile.
ISIS: Inside the Army of Terror, Michael Weiss & Hassan Hassan
The Romance of Religion: Fighting for Goodness, Truth, and Beauty, Fr. Dwight Longenecker
The Story of the Jews, Vol I: Finding the Words. Simon Schama
Alienated America: Why Some Places Thrive While Others Collapse, Timothy Carney
Stuff: Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things, Randy Frost
The Rise of Big Data Policing, Andrew Guthrie Ferguson
Breaking Bread with the Dead: A Reader’s Guide to a More Tranquil Mind, Alan Jacobs
A Brief History of Earth: Four Billion Years in Eight Chapters, Andrew Knoll
Frozen Hell: The Russo-Finnish Winter War, William Trotter
Years ago when I was a ‘spiritual seeker’ and consuming all manner of spiritual-religious content online, from dharma talks to Catholic apologetics and Asatru podcasts, I found some sermons and choir recordings online from a Unitarian Universalist organization. They had a performance of “God’s Promise” which I found beautiful despite not being anything approaching a believer back then. I saved it, and in time that website disappeared. I’ve been wanting to post it to youtube so people can enjoy it, so…that’s done. The photos in these are taken from my instagram, queencityson, and are mostly from spots in central Alabama. I tried to include just shots that overwhelmed me at the time. The song has been on my mind today as I reflected on the hardships, losses, triumphs, and moments of joy from the last year.
“I never did promise you crowns without trials
Food with no hard sweat, your tears without smiles
Hot sunny days without cold wintry snows
No vict’ry without fightin’, no laughs without woes
All that I promise is strength for this day
Rest for my, worker, my light on your way
I give you truth when you need it, my help from above
Well, here we are at the close of another year – and what a year it was! 2022 will be one of the more unforgettable years in my life, opening as it did with me on dialysis and the sudden death of a good friend – only to bring blessings like a kidney transplant, unexpected friendships, and a newfound sense of purpose despite ongoing challenges. “A hell of a year,” a friend of mine described it. Can’t argue there! Connected to all of this were the books, so let’s yak about that. I hope you’re not stuffed full of Christmas goodies, still, because I brought data pie as usual.
First up, some general stats. Nonfiction crushed fiction this year, with a 70/30 split. Ebooks increased their lead over for-realsies books, at 57/43. Only 34% of my books were purchased this year; 26% were library books; 20% were Kindle Unlimited titles; and the rest were previously owned, gifts, or (my favorite) “read in the store like a big ol’ cheapskate”. Next year’s mission is to drive books-purchased down further. Unfortunately, the biggest trend this year was not reviewing books: just over a fifth of the books I read in 2022 don’t have posted reviews, though a number of them have substantial drafts that just need to be finished.
In the world of Kindle, my top five most-highlighted books were:
The World-Ending Fire 87
Live Not by Lies: A Manual for Christian Dissidents, 62
The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life 60
Together: The Healing Power of Human Connection, 46
The Politically Incorrect Guide to American History, 46
In January, I had structured goals and specific targets for the Science Survey, the Classics Club, Readin’ Dixie, and the immortal Pile of Doom. The science survey went well, each category being filled by September. I’d wanted to end up with 20 books altogether, but only managed nineteen. The rest of my challenges were a mixed bag, with only three classics read, marginal progress at best on Mount Doom, and a year-end spurt of southern literature instead of a year-long series. The fight will continue next year!
History lead the pack, as usual .My easy favorite was Bringing Columbia Home: the Untold Story of a Lost Space Shuttle and her Crew, about the recovery process following Columbia’s catastrophic reentry loss in 2003. Being someone who struggles with a lot of political jadedness, the reflex cooperation of civilians and all levels of government to find the bodies of the fallen, and piece together what had happened to America’s first space shuttle*, moved me. The Secret Life of Groceries was also excellent: I’ve read a number of similar books and it stood out among them, covering logistics and marketing as well as food production and processing. Dogfight: How Apple and Google Went to War was another memorable title, though I still disagree with the author’s premise that the two tech giants’ competition will one day end in a general monopoly.
Science had a fine year, though I was hoping to crack twenty. The best in this category was An Immense World,by Ed Yong, on how studying animal sensation can greatly expand our appreciation of this world and its wonders. I’m reminded of that line from “The Circle of Life” — there’s far too to take in here, more to find than can ever be found — because of Yong’s lesson, that animal species all have unique sense-sets and are open to and guided by experiences of the world that other species are absolutely blind to. It was an awe-some book in the literalist sense of that, because it stirred wonder in me like no science read in quite a few years. I can’t not mention the cover and title of Ms. Adventure, my geology read. Great choice on both by her marketing peeps.
Science Fiction had a slow start, but came out firing with J.M. Berger’s Optimal and getting only better as the year wore on. Dave Eggers’ The Every was a worthy successor to his chilling satire The Circle, and every book I read by Blake Crouch was an instant favorite. Recursion, Dark Matter, and Upgradeare all top tens for the year.
Historical Fiction was good in quality, if not quantity: the star would be Ben Kane’s Richard the Lionheart trilogy. Excellent stuff! I also started a World War 2 trilogy by James Holland that I anticipate continuing in 2023.
Society and Culture had an unusually strong year, in part because I’m increasingly concerned about the disintegration of both, and certain trends have pushed me away from let-’er-be-libertarianism to a more up-men-and-to-your-posts mentality — particularly, the aggressive ‘medical correction’ of children related to transmania, and relatedly the rates of mental disease, substance abuse, and suicide in the United States. Some of the books I read along these lines wereDopesick,Irreversible Damage, Live not by Lies, Porn Generation, The End of Gender, and the Flipside of Feminism.
In Religion and Philosophy, I was delighted to make a return to Alain de Botton, whose On Love proved more relevant than I’d expected when first picking it up. Dangerous Passions, Deadly Sins was an excellent Lenten read, but the year’s favorite was How to Think Like a Roman Emperor. I also studied C.S. Lewis a bit, reading his Letters to an American Lady, and a couple of guides to his The Abolition of Man.
Politics and Civic Awareness had a good year. I enjoyed reading about the growth of people-friendly cities in the Netherlands, England, and New York City, and also read a bit in connection to my social concerns. Andy Ngo’s Unmasked, and Shellenberger’s San Fransicko were notable. The first was on the rise of antifa, and the latter on how housing and substance abuse policies in a few major metro areas not only fail, but exacerbate the problems they’re intended to address.
Other notables: in Southern Literature, I was delighted to return to Wendell Berry’s nonfiction with an excellent anthology of his work, The World-Ending Fire, and finished reading Rick Bragg’s southern stories books. OF course, I can’t close without mentioning Postcards from Ed, one of my very very favorites for the year. More Abbey inbound!
So, what’s up for next year? My standing themes/challenges will continue, of course: the Science Survey, the Classics Club, and Mount Doom. I’m also going to be doing two Big Reads this year, with the books getting the Gulag Archipelago treatment — reviews posted as I finish major milestones of the texts. The Shahnameh will be reviewed in three parts, and The Jewish Annotated New Testament will be reviewed in bits as they suggest themselves. I had planned a massive series called “A Century of Reading” in which I moved, decade by decade, through the 20th century — with nonfiction and fiction for both. I need more time to develop the books for it, though, and more importantly I need to finish Mount Doom before I buy any more bloody books!
New Year’s resolutions?
No new books until serious progress on Mount TBR is made. Yes, even $0.99 Star Trek books count. I didn’t buy any in November and December, and life went on.
Finish reviews for books that I really want to have reviews posted for.
Focus more on ‘good news’ ….or as Perry Como would advise, accentunate the positive. Relatedly, be more active about reading books I’ll disagree with, or books that humanize people (politicians) whose names cause me to spit venom.
[*] Sorry, Enterprise, you don’t count. You were an atmospheric tester only.
The Science Survey, in effect since 2017, is a structured approach to pop-science reading to maintain a broad general science & nature knowledge and avoid my tendency to run away from the more math-y subjects. I completed this year’s survey relatively early, in September, and am expecting a strong year in 2023. Preview of next year’s list to follow this afternoon..
Below are my prospects for 2023. Although I purchased some of these titles already (those with an * ), it’s rare that my prospects list and my actual list are matches for one another.
Cosmology and Astrophysics The Edge of Physics:A Journey to Earth’s Extremes to Unlock the Secrets of the Universe, Anil Ananthaswamy *
Local Astronomy Chasing New Horizons: Inside the Epic First Mission to Pluto, Alan Sterns *
Geology, Oceanography, and Natural History Waters of the World, Sarah Dry
Chemistry and Physics Calculating the Cosmos: How Mathematics Unveils the Universe, Ian Stewart *
Biology Human Errors: A Panorama of Our Glitches, Nathan Lents * The Beauty of the Beastly, Natalie Angiers * Nine Pints: A Journey through the Mysteries of Blood, Rose George* Skeleton Keys: The Secret Life of Bone, Brian Switek*
Flora and Fauna Tales from the Ant World, E.O. Wilson
Archaeology & Anthropology The Story Paradox: How Our Love of Stories Builds Societies and Tears Them Down, Jonathan Gottschall Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What It Means for Modern Relationships, Christopher Ryan The Moral Animal, Robert Wright
Cognition, Neurology, and Psychology Conspiracy: Why the Rational Believe the Irrational, Michael Shermer This is Your Brain on Music, Daniel Levitin
Weather and Climate Air: The Restless Shaper of the World, William Bryant Logan
Ecology Where do Camels Belong? Ken Thompson
Thinking Scientifically Starry Messenger: Cosmic Perspectives on Civilization, Neil deGrasse Tyson
Wildcard (Science Biography, History of Science, Natural History, Science and Health, or Science and Society)
I didn’t discover a lot of artists in 2022, but I was utterly obsessed with one and deeply into the other. I stumbled onto Morgan Wade via Youtube and have been listening to (and talking about nonstop to the annoyance of friends & family) her for the last few months. I don’t think I can capture all of her appeal to me in one video. She’s one of the few artists for whom I want to listen to different versions of the same song by, because of the little differences in delivery. Like Tom MacDonald, she’s also someone who addresses serious issues in her songs — like substance and mental health. Going through my own dark valley in the late 2010s and surfacing from that in 2020 has made me acutely aware of how ignored these issues are in our society, so I appreciate artists who are frank about them.
Johnny called me late last night And I told Mister Walker, just go home Why do the demons in my mind Never wanna leave me alone? It’s the pistol and it’s the bottle It’s the drugs and it’s the throttle They all tell me, they’ll make me feel alive I know good and well That ain’t gonna help I’m just prayin’ I make it through the night
The other artist I enjoyed enormously this year is Lonnie Johnson, an early 20th century blues musician. While trying to find the performers for “Jet Black Blues”, I discovered that it was done by a black musician, Lonnie Johnson, playing with the white Eddie Lang (aka Blind Willie Dunn). Theirs is an interesting partnership given the times!
Beyond that, I spent a lot of 2022 listening to bands that had already spoken to me — chiefly, Sierra Ferell and her beautiful approach to old-time and country music, and Tom MacDonald’s unpredicted appeal. I don’t like rap, as a rule, but when I hear him speak I attend to what he says.
Don’t look back in sorrow Just hope you see tomorrow Those years Everyone knows Ya gotta let `em go They kinda roll by like tears Just a measure of time
You don’t think you’re a fighter But I know you are And you are a liar If you say you aren’t You don’t think that you’re worth it But I think you are
And for a final thought, I leave you Morgan Wade in cut-offs keeping time in bare feet. Holy wow. (Language warning. Also, Morgan Wade warning.)