u/TurtleBucketList

I recently read ‘Feathers’ by the same author, and enjoyed this one more. Which isn’t to dismiss ‘Feathers’, I just think I learnt more biology / evolution / history in this one, which is more what I was looking for.

Although on the history front, while entirely appropriate, I didn’t need yet another rendition of cotton’s role in the Industrial Revolution and the transatlantic slave trade - since 2 of my top reads this past year have been ‘The Golden Thread: How Fabric Changed History’ and ‘The Fabric of Civilisation: How Textiles Made the World’. I found the discussion of poisons, fruit, capsaicin, versus sporing plants, etc.

Overall, an easily readable pop science book on a topic I (mostly) didn’t know a lot about.

This was quite an interesting book - albeit one that takes as its starting point the early days and progress in researching ‘pre-history’ archaeology in Australia, and not the aboriginal history itself. That is, it’s primarily a story about academic archaeology and archaeologists and works towards the conclusions about aboriginal history. It doesn’t *start* with aboriginal practices or beliefs or diversity and then work back towards the archaeological evidence. Which is, of course, just a different way of telling the story, but it was nonetheless a surprise that the first few chapters feel like a story centred around / about ‘White fellas’, when that wasn’t my expectation.

Which doesn’t mean it’s insensitive towards the aboriginal population - it’s not (to the extent I’m qualified to judge as such). It treats with empathy several issues where (white) archaeologists have misunderstood their relationship with the people / practices / customs, and it doesn’t back away from the harm done as a result. It discusses head-on some of the racial biases in both archaeology and in the Australian public (both old, and more modern). A few comments towards the end really resonated with me:

* the idea that Aboriginal Dreamtime stories can be thought of in a manner similar to those of the Iliad - I’d never thought of that comparison;

* the idea that ancient Egypt built the pyramids … but now they’re culturally extinct, while aboriginal Australians built no such grand monuments, but that their continuous existence as a culture (albeit with variations in technological practices over time) is a wonder in and of itself - as part of the author deconstructing a ‘hierarchy’ of development (I’m paraphrasing here).

Anyway, if ancient history is your jam, or if you’re Australian, or just want to learn more about a topic I’m sure most are unfamiliar with, I’d recommend it.

I’ve long been fascinated by the rapid demographic changes, especially the falling fertility rate, in China. And I find it mind blowing the idea that the China of my mother’s childhood (Mao’s Great Leap Forward), my childhood (Deng Xiaoping’s Reform and Opening up - as was the case for these women), and my children’s (Xi Jingping’s era) are so unfathomably different, all within living memory. I find China’s rapid social changes - both forced (One Child Policy), and unforced (the ‘lying flat’ movement) - fascinating. And the decisions that ordinary people make in such rapidly changing economic and political reality. Especially women. And the rural population.

What I adored about this book was how deeply relatable it felt to me, personally. There are some books I value for providing such a different perspective on life from my own - where the author’s way of thinking about themselves or their place in the world, and the resulting choices they make, are foreign to me. Not invalid. But very different. (E.g. The Cooking Gene’s Michael Twitty’s very personal linkages to genealogy are very different to my own). Something about these women though - it felt like, there but for a few years, and location, go I. I found echoes of myself in these women, while still gaining a better appreciation for life in China.

I liked this quite a lot! A fairly light read (as far as popular science goes), and a long way out of any of my fields of knowledge. The latter chapters stretch the ‘Evolution of a Natural Miracle’ sub-title a little far (feather sourcing from Asia for goose down clothing, or dying feather show costumes), but it’s all interesting and smoothly written. I’ve added the author’s book on seeds to my reading list.

A mild critique of the audiobook - the reader does accents of the various interviewees. Which is fine enough in principle, but the Chinese accent is pretty terrible to my ear (it sounds closer to Japanese?).

To quote another reviewer on reddit, the book is a ‘holistic, birds-eye view of Western/European interaction with Central Asia’, as opposed to being a more detailed historical look into the actual Silk Road. It’s excellent at detailing Western-Eastern interactions, albeit one that presupposes a Eurocentric bias. That is, it takes as its premise that the reader has learnt a history curricula of Greeks -> Romans -> Enlightenment -> World Wars, and then seeks to move the focus of attention to the east, towards Persia. It’s ambitious, and runs through a very very long time period.

But once we got to the modern era it felt quite rehashed (versus my existing knowledge). There’s also remarkably little about China in this book as well (versus my expectations). That is, I wanted a book *about* the actual Silk Road, and while I still had plenty to learn from this book (the spread of early Christianity, the technocratic capabilities of the Mongol empire, how the Dutch became a naval power, etc), it didn’t scratch the itch I wanted it to. I might try Valerie Hansen’s ‘The Silk Road: A New History’.

Coming off the back of Clint Smith’s book about enslaved people ‘How the Word is Passed’, I concede I had expectations going into this book. Expectations that were confounded somewhat by the more personal genealogical take on the subject matter. That is, I’d *expected* a more linear narrative book centred on the cooking (ingredients, methods, etc) experience of enslaved people. What I got was a more meandering genealogical and very personal story from the author that jumps around quite a bit. That is, a failure of my expectations.

I also find the author’s very personal connection to history and genealogy as interesting, as it isn’t at all like my own. I’m curious how much of it reflects an African American experience, a legacy of slavery, of diaspora, or of other historic wrongs (I wonder how a group of Brazilians would think about this question). Is it cultural? (I know there are other cultures that also seem to have a great affinity for their ancestors). Which is not to say the author’s worldview or sense of connection to different ages or places of his ancestors is wrong. It’s just different to me. And that makes it *interesting*.

I’d recommend reading over audiobook for this one.

I really enjoyed this book. I’d been somewhat aware of olive oil adulteration prior to this book (thanks to the Gastropod podcast + Bee Wilson’s ‘Swindled’ being on my list). But this is so much more comprehensive than food adulteration, it’s a thorough historical, cultural, and scientific overview of olive oil. Engagingly written, and informative, I’d recommend it to those with a keen interest in food.

Irreverently funny - notably for an Australian audience, who can appreciate the wry humour, inside jokes, and deep sarcasm (*especially* the section on pre-colonial indigenous inhabitation! … like, seriously, for an American audience who may not be aware of the history and discourse in Australia, hence not recognise the sarcasm and read it ‘straight’, they’re going to be horrified).

That said, by the 2/3rd mark it’s a lot more about individual people, which I personally find to be the dullest part of history. No matter how many references to grog and prostitutes (and amusing accents in the audiobook), I just can’t bring myself to *care* about the personal dealings / opinions / drama of the early governors of New South Wales.

Essentially the author notes that Australian history is generally thought to be dull - and so he’s trying to ‘sex it up’ and write humorously. Which is going to appeal to some audiences (fantastic!). But to me, it’s still dull (even as I enjoy the humour). I think I just enjoy more thematic or idiosyncratic histories. (E.g. I loved the book about the formation of Australian democracy).

How Africa Works is a follow up to ‘How Asia Works’ (which I haven’t read, but Asian economics is already a specialty of mine), and was recommended to me by a few coworkers.

It’s a solid book, albeit I think would be a challenging read for anyone who doesn’t have a foundation in macroeconomics or development. It’s not as ideological as some economics (and development) books, it talks fairly honestly about the (lack of) democracy in some of Africa’s ‘successes’, and addresses the differences between development and equality. I definitely learnt a lot about the region, and the role of demographics and agriculture from a more Africa-centric perspective.

Overall, it’s a good read, but you should reasonably expect this to read like an economics book (because it is, which I enjoy, but others probably won’t).

Originally a recommendation I saw here from /u/she_who_reads_ and well worth the effort.

Part 1 of the book covers the history of language development - but I found it quite repetitive vs another recent read ‘Why Q Needs U: A History of Our Letters and how We Use Them’. But Part 2 is where I felt the book really shined - focusing on the biological / neurological developments involved in learning to read (and also the nuances of dyslexia). As a parent of young children I found this exceptionally interesting. I also found fascinating the different types of dyslexia in different languages (English, German, Chinese), and the authors comparison between Socrates’ opinions about writing, having reflections in current concerns about the different neurological demands that come from modern more tech-influenced learning.

It’s definitely niche (science and history of *things* is an area I enjoy). But well written and informative.

In continuing my posts of ‘Books I’ve recently enjoyed and/or learnt from that aren’t self-help’ … this book is beautifully written and emotionally devastating. The author is eloquent without being pretentious, the perspective is relentlessly well-researched, and if you’re ever inclined to audiobooks, the full emotional pull of this book should be heard.

I would love to see a related book that combines this history-informed perspective, with Invisible Women’s data-informed intervention perspective. That is, the author talks a lot about having an honest, complete view (and early teaching) of history that grapples with the (often) confronting perspectives of enslaved people and African-Americans. Essentially, I’d then love to learn how different countries grapple with teaching difficult histories, and I’d love to read any books that cover (to the extent even possible) empirical outcomes of different teaching curriculum.

Which isn’t said as a critique of *this* work, but as a reflection of something I’d like to learn more about, after having read it. I read this book precisely because I’m not (originally) American. I have read (in various different texts / books) about the trans-Atlantic slave trade (mostly in the context of food history, as well as topics like Indigo dying, the history of cotton and fabrics etc), but this book puts enslaved people at its heart, and as a new-American, this is something I wanted to learn more about (when I first moved to the US I read ‘The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks’ as well). Indeed, I don’t generally read books that will push me towards depression, and I generally demur on American history books as it’s not my main field of interest. But this book was incredible. And I hope to use the themes I learned in this book, to better inform my own children’s educations (since they will go through US public schooling).

My favourite genre is almost certainly food history (or some combination of food / culture / history / science). And this is an excellent contribution to that (I’ve a couple more recent good additions that I’ll post here soon).

I’ve been tangentially aware of New Zealanders’ love of feijoa’s but also knew fuck all about the fruit or its history. This book has changed that! And the audiobook was delightful (a Kiwi accent of course, but in the universe of author-read books, it was really well read). I now have to hunt down some feijoa jam.

I’d recommend this book to Kiwi’s, and food history lovers.

I *really* enjoyed this book.

As Australians, our founding mythology is usually centred around Gallipoli (and Federation to a much much lesser extent). This book argues that the formation of our democratic institutions is equally relevant to the country we enjoy today - compulsory voting, preferential voting, an independent electoral commission (and the secret ballot!). And also explains the philosophical and practical differences underlying them (e.g. the labour movement, a highly itinerant rural workforce, an entirely different conception of ‘rights’ vs the one that prevailed at the point of US independence).

It has really informed the way I look at both my countries (as a dual Aussie/US citizen), and I think it would be both excellent reading for an Aussie audience, but also for an American audience who may be open to hearing about other political theory / approach to democracy. (I recognise that compulsory voting is an anathema to most in the US, for example, but it also enjoys broad social support in Australia - this book starts to go into why).