2024 in Reading and 2025 Goals

Many steps forward

Photo by Olena Bohovyk on Unsplash

My blog focuses on five main areas, which also happen to be the four main focuses of my life (excluding work): reading, running, langauge learning, individuation, and more sustainable living. I plan to do a New Year’s post for each of these different areas with my reflections on the past year and plans for the New Year. This is the post on reading.

While I’ve been struggling in many areas of my life, 2024 was an excellent year for reading and for reflecting on reading. In 2023 I deliberately set out to read far fewer books, setting a goal of 10 (I read 23) to encourage deeper reflection and connection with those books. What ended up happening instead was procrastination of that reflection, and more consumption of short form and ultra-short form content. In 2024 I returned to the old approach, but eased off a bit on the requirements for reflection I imposed on myself. I would do an in-depth review of a book about once a month and publish that here on Substack, while still writing a shorter 2-3 paragraph review for every book I read on Goodreads. I ended up reading a lot more (89 books, ~32,000 pages), and scrolling a lot less. I’ll summarize these stats below, as well as highlight some particularly good and some particularly dissapointing books.

2024 in Reading:

Basic Stats:

Books read: 89

Books in English: 49

Pages in English: 20,000

Books in Spanish: 38

Pages in Spanish: 12,000

Books in Italian: 2

Pages in Italian: 760

Most popular genre: Fantasy

12 Reviews: La gran addición, Maldita Roma, The Shattered Sea Trilogy, Largo petaló de mar, Del sentimiento tragicó de la vida, Incel, Submission, Cloud Atlas, La España de las piscinas, Stolen Focus, Astrology: Science or Superstition?, Infinite Jest

Ten books before I die: 3/10

Josh’s Book Awards

Best Fiction Book: The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula K. LeGuin

I was very impressed with the Wizard of Earthsea, and I'm very impressed with the sequel, even though the only character that returns from the first book is Sparrowhawk.

In this book we follow Tenar, a lonely priestess of dark gods (implied to be something like the shadow of our collective unconsciousness), who lives in a decaying temple complex at the edge of the world. Tenar's life seems destined to follow a path towards petty vindictiveness and hatred. However, after an encounter with the tomb-raiding Sparrowhawk, Tenar begins to find her heart moved by compassion and curiosity, forever changing her relationship to both the gods she is supposed to serve, and her small and lonely world.

There's not much that goes on in this book, it's only 180 pages. But within these few pages, Le Guin manages to craft a masterful feminine counterpart to the masculine Jungian confrontation with the shadow in the first book. And her descriptions of the beauty of the world, through Tenar seeing it for the first time, nearly moved me to tears.

Best Non-fiction Book: The Vital Question by Nick Lane

I'm a biologist by trade and training, but have never studied or really thought carefully about abiogenesis (the biology of the beginning of life on earth) carefully before, nor about the reason Eukaryotes are the way they are.

Lane starts off by making the observation that there's some curious aspects of our cell biology that don't necessarily have to be the way that they are, but in fact are. The first of these is the proton pump: why do all cells, down to the most primitive bacteria, derive their energy from proton gradients across their cell membrane. This suggested to Lane that where life initial evolved had naturally occurring gradients for primitive proto-cells to harness. This, combined with some other favorable geochemistry leads him to settle on the "white smokers", low temperature alkaline vents, as the origin place of life. These vents also contain sponge like rock formations, mimicking compartmentalized cells, and also are and were a good source of carbon and nitrogen.

The other half of the book is dedicated to the study of Eukaryotes or "complex life". Humans, plants, and fungi all contain cells with very different cell biology from bacteria. Our DNA is membrane bound in a structure called the nucleus, and our cells contain thousands of bacteria-like structures called mitochondria that generate energy (mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell). Because of biochemistry and genomics, we actually have proof now that mitochondria are descended directly from bacteria (they contain bacterial membrane lipids, and their genes have homology with bacterial genes). Lane's argument in this part of the book is that many of the features we see in modern Eukaryotes were developed to help the genomes of the two organisms live together. The nucleus was developed in response to a transposon invasion from mitochondria (hence why our genome is filled with so much "junk" DNA), and sex also helps to reduce mitochondrial/nuclear incompatibility (because mitochondrial DNA evolves much more rapidly).

I'd be really interested in seeing/hearing a counterargument to Lane's, as he has me to pretty convinced. I'll also be eternally grateful to him for reminding me why I love biology so much, during a period of my PhD where the day-to-day has caused this love to fade a little. Biology is awesome.

Most Subversive Book: The Universal State of America by Simon Sheridan

This was a category filled with bangers, from ARX-Han’s Incel to the various works of Michel Houellebecq that I read this year. However, I think Sheridan’s book has these beat because of the scope and depth of its critique: both Incel and Houellebecq focus on specific problems afflicting the West as whole, and while they do land on a coherent theme (materialism=bullshit), their scope is limited to our civilization. Sheridan’s work on the other hand flips the conventional understanding of civilization as we understand it on its head entirely.

The book starts by explicating a Jungian/Campbellian perspective on the microcosm of an individual life as viewed through the lens of a heroes journey. In the classic structure of the heroes journey, there is some call to adventure (Gandalf knocking on Bilbo's door in The Hobbit), some journey in which transformation and self-actualization take place (the adventures that Bilbo participates in on his way to the lonely mountain that lead him become more courageous), and a return to home (back to the Shire in Bilbo's case).

Sheridan posits that our lives have this same structure, and so too do the "lives" of civilizations. In this way he impressively unifies Jungian psychoanalysis with the comparative history done by Spengler and Toynbee. He then uses the unification to help diagnose "psychological" problems that may be unique to our Western Faustian civilization. Just as people tend to suffer from specific neurosis if they are foiled a specific point along their heroes journey, so too do civilizations.

This was a perspective I had never seen before, and has really inspired me to dig further into the comparative history, as well as attempt to understand Jungian archetypes on an individual level. One of the problems with this analysis, which Sheridan acknowledges, is that we really don't have a lot of historical data about many civilizations. Most of the analysis of this book is centered on an analysis of the classical and modern faustian civilizations. I think I would have appreciated examples from others. Ibn Khaldun did a similar historical (but without the archetypal stuff) analysis of Muslim and other states, and Spengler mentions at least one other civilization in Decline of the West. The lack of this analysis makes it hard to know what is specific to the classical/faustian case and what is actually archetypal.

The other thing I would have liked more of was an explanation as to the difference between the child/orphan, orphan/adult transition. Especially given the take-away message at the end of the book, really having a clear distinction between these two transition points is important for understanding the diagnosis of the psychological state of our current civilization.

Best Book with Philosophy Book Club: Master and His Emissary by Iain McGilchrist

McGilchrist's central thesis is that we are divided individuals: each hemisphere of our brain has a different way of seeing the world, and these two "ways of being" are often fundamentally incompatible with each other. The left hemisphere takes an incredibly detailed, but mechanistic and often abstracted view of reality. The right hemisphere by contrast is better at taking a big picture view of things: it is through this hemisphere that we understand art and music, appreciate individual differences and make sense of our own existence at a fundamental level. In McGilchrist's view the proper relationship between these two hemispheres is that of Master and Emissary (his central metaphor). The right hemisphere notices some facet of experience, the left hemisphere interrogates that aspect of experience in a more mechanistic and rational manner, and then this is in turn reintegrated back into the holistic experience of the right hemisphere.

However, in our society, this asymmetry has been broken. The left hemisphere is fundamentally unable to understand the perspective of the right, and as McGilchrist has chronicled in this book, has gradually been taking ground from the right hemisphere. This has lead to a society with an inability to treat others as human beings, rather as mechanistic flesh robots, and the loss of meaning in religion, and the arts. The master has been led away in chains, to return to McGilchrist's central metaphor, borrowed from Nietzsche.

This book touched on a feeling I've been having for a long time about our society. Since my freshman year at MIT, where I stopped being satisfied with good grades, fast times, and material consumption, I've been skeptical of the materialism inherent in almost all answers given to us in our search for meaning. I remember a particular moment when I entered into the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem and saw the light shining down onto Christ's tomb from a skylight. I was immediately filled with a sense of wonder, and a conviction that there was something about the place that was divine. Yet not a minute later, my mind was filled with sneering skepticism about the engineering of the building being designed to give me that experience. The backlash to that backlash was a moment that I think changed my life: I no longer wanted to be the kind of person that would dismiss profound spiritual experiences because I could explain them mechanistically. Yes, there is a place for logic and rationalism in our search for truth, but only in service to our intuition and faith in something larger than ourselves. Maybe there's a reason why almost all societies have posited something along the lines of eternal recurrence and reincarnation. Maybe there's a reason why we feel so depressed in the modern West without our traditions and spiritual practices. Maybe science isn't the only way to truth.

I'm not sure exactly what to change about my life as a result of this book. Specific actions, in any case, seem to be the domain of the left hemisphere, not the right. Rather, I need to shift my worldview. Less focus on metrics and deliverables, or more on living differently. Less "rational" self-help, and more reading of thinkers like Kierkegaard, Fromm, Unamuno, and of fiction. More connecting with individuals, online, in real life, or through literature, and less with abstract principles.

I'm also very grateful to have read this with Tessa, Amanda, Dylan, and Logan. Philosophy book club keeps bearing fruit.

Best Book Originally Written in Spanish: Historia como sistema y ortos ensayos de filosofia by José Ortega y Gasset

This short book, and its titular essay were by far the most interesting things I’ve read in Spanish this year (although a lot of the fiction perhaps tugged at my heartstrings more). In History as a System, Ortega y Gasset, who is famous for his other essay collection: The Rebellion of the Masses, posits that any systemic attempt to construct a universal philosophical system is doomed to fail. He takes us through two totalizing historical systems that have failed thus far: faith in a Christian God, and the Rationalism of enlightenment. I could add other examples of Rome’s faith in its civic institutions, or faith in the God of the market as well. For Ortega y Gasset, these totalizing ideologies are doomed to fail at somepoint, because human society is always changing. Rather, we should build a philosophy around the idea of change itself, hence history as a system. This meshes well with Simon Sheridan’s book, and my increasing conviction that a focus on stories and narrative arcs of individual and the societies they live in is the way to understand the world, not “rational” comprehensive doctrines.

Of course the big flaw of anything Ortega y Gasset writes is a lack of depth. I’m left with many questions about how this sytem of philosophy works, and very little deeper exploration. This will be something to dig into in 2025.

Best Reread: A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin

I’ve written a larger post defending George R. R. Martin’s work from some pretty unjust attacks from other substackers. While I understand the frustration with the man’s inability to finish his series, what we have is one of the best pieces of fantasy ever written, with many different layers of theme and characterization. My re-read focused on the second half of the series, which slows down the main plot substantially, but widens the scope of worldbuilding, and deepens our understanding of the lives of primary and secondary characters.

Best “Normie” Book: What You’re Looking for is in the Library by Michiko Aoyama

Although it might be a stretch to call a book translated from Japanese a “normie” book, for few Americans read literature in translation, much less in other languages, the plot of What You’re Looking for is in the Library is straight out of whitepill land. The story follows five different people in a subdistrict of Tokyo who are all experiencing life crisis. Each of theme checks out a book from the library that helps them to reframe their crisis as an opportunity for growth and fix the issue that they have been struggling with. Feel good, simplistic, and perhaps a little naive, but not preachy at all, and was an extremely easy and heartfelt read.

Most Dissapointing Book: The Bright Sword by Lev Grossman

Man I really really wanted to like this book. I absolutely loved the Magician's trilogy, and the Magicians itself is probably on my top ten all-time list. The existentialism and angst that worked so well in the modern setting of the Magicians really doesn't fit in the King Arthur setting of The Bright Sword. I think part of this is because the two stories are not archetypally aligned: the Magicians is a story about overcoming decadence and hedonism in a society that's transitioning from adulthood to old age, King Arthur is a story about a traditional hero fighting back against the darkness is a society that's just starting to know itself (child to orphan transition). The beats that worked so well in the Magicians about ennui and meaninglessness just don't fit here: there's PLENTY to do, and the narration's suggestion otherwise is grating.

I think this archetypal misalignment kind of dooms the book, but The Bright Sword also has other serious problems. The plot is a mess: there are no clear arcs, the characters just do stuff. Which was perhaps a deliberate attempt by Grossman to capture the disorganization (personally and politically) following the death of a great king. This unfortunately fell flat for me: the conclusion of every mini-arc felt random, unearned, and irrelevant as we moved on to the next adventure out of nowhere. Interspersed between these arcs we get some flashback chapters which I quite liked, but also messed with the pacing of the story.

Finally, and this might be controversial, but I really did not appreciate the insertion of "current political issue" into the themes of the book. The trans member of the round table was actually fine, although I wish the focus had been more on the conflicting gender roles rather than gender identity (our society's obsession with labels rather than actions/roles is a continual frustration for me). What was not fine was the rebranding of the Saxon invaders as "refugees", and the implication that the britons should have just let them in and embraced the resulting melting pot (with obvious implications for Current Year). This bourgeois attitude towards immigration misses all the suffering brought about by two groups of very different people competing for the same land, and implies that current worries about immigration are totally unfounded because it has happened so many times before. Yes it has, but it wasn't very fun for the native Britons (who basically no longer exist, and have not since the Norman conquest of Wales).

Worst Book: Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros

I’m not actually sure why I wasted my time with this YA smut trash, but you definitely should not follow in my footsteps. This book was in close contention with Laura Gallego’s Memorias de Idhun, but somehow managed to have even more of a Mary Sue protoganist, even lazier worldbuilding, and even more retarded love triangles. At least the characters sometimes have to face consequences for their actions in Idhun.

Full book list.

Goal’s for 2025

1. Read 52 books and review 12 of them in-depth

Why mess with success? 52 books a year has been my goal for the past 8 years (except for 2023), and has been eminently achievable for most of those (except 2017). One book a week is an easily surpassable goal that will give me the flexibility to tackle larger or more challenging books without failing to complete the overall journey. I also feel like I struck a good balance with reading a reviewing this year and would like to keep this up in 2025.

2. Keep philosophy book club going

Composed of a ragtag group of college friends and their friends, this club has helped me tackle and much more deeply understand works of philosophy ranging from John Rawls to Saint Augustine. We’re currently reading Strauss, and I hope to tackle some Simone Weil as well in early 2025.

3. Read at least 50% of my boooks in a foreign language

I’m learning Spanish, and I’m planning on ramping up my Italian as well. Reading is a crucial form of practice in these languages for me, but also a form of culture shock, which I think is invaluable for my intellectual growth.

4. Read more normie books

I’ve been wowed by the subversive books that I’ve read this year, but unfortunately all subversion all the time makes it hard to relate to the normies. I can’t really answer, “what books have you read recently?” without outing myself. I think this will also help in introducing these types of books to my friends, if I have a jumping off point from more standard literature. To that end I plan to read the first five books of Brandon Sanderson’s Stormlight Archive in the New Year.

5. Tackle at least 3 more of my ten books

I’m planning on reading Il deserto dei tartari, Spring Snow, and Cien años de soledad at the very least.

6. Read some Stalin/Lenin

I have some symphathies with Marxism and the organization of the Soviet Union, but I find myself at a loss when talking about policies and political theory as was practiced in the only successful Marxist superpower. Whatever you can stay about Stalin and Lenin, they defeated multiple capitalist invasions (including the Nazi’s) and increased the standard of living of the average Russian tremendously. I think there’s something worth studying and understanding there.

7. Read everything that Ortega y Gasset published

I think there’s some value in reading into a topioc and specific thinker deeply. In 2025 for me this will be the Spanish philosophy José Ortega y Gasset. It helps that the Hopkins library has all these books.

What are your reading goals for 2025?

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Josh