Alright, with Christmas mercifully behind us and New Year’s staring us down, I suppose it’s time to begin our year-end reviews. Today we are talking about my favorite books in 2023. Maybe I should have released this in time for the holiday shopping season, but I always found it odd to release end of year reviews in early November, aside from the obvious clicks that being the first generates. Well, you’ll have no such pandering here.1
But first, the rules. My favorite books of 2023 are not necessarily books written in 2023. They’re simply books I read in 2023. I read across the gamut this year, something I’ll talk about in a forthcoming post about my book club and our general nonsense there. But what that means is that you’ll find a range of books here. Not just history, but self help, sports, and a whole other number of things. Aside from the last two, these are in no particular order, mostly because I hate the automatic numbering that this format generates. And finally, while I am posting links to books for your ordering ease, I am not in any way compensated for suggesting any of these books to you. And with that, let’s begin.
Lauren Lassabe Shepherd, Resistance from the Right: Conservatives and the Campus Wars in Modern America. Anytime the National Review calls your work “disappointing,” you know you’re doing something right. If you’re reading this, you’re likely no doubt aware of the attacks on higher education in the United States, led by Christopher Rufo, a 5’4” pit viper with a goatee. Joining Rufo are legions of conservatives including seemingly every elected person in Oklahoma (state motto: “Somehow, Be Dumber”). Key to their plans are arguments that high education serves as some kind of liberal indoctrination. Shepherd debunks all of that, showing how conservative leaders—funded by wealthy donors and trained by conservative thinkgs—emerged from universities in the 1960s and 1970s with clear aims to push their own political agendas.2 The war is raging over education in the United States. Lauren Lassabe Shepherd is on the front lines.
Arnold Schwarzenegger, Be Useful: Seven Tools for Life. I’ve read a number of memoirs the last couple of years and have enjoyed most of them (Barack Obama and Dave Grohl being high on the list). When I can, I like to actually listen to them on Audible or some other format, since they feel more like a conversation with the author than anything else (my book club is just starting Werner Herzog’s autobiography and HOO BOY it’s intense). I’ve long admired Arnold’s work—not surprising in the context that you know me—so I was hoping for some revelations. We got them. I think it’s easy to be cynical about celebrities and their agendas but what I found was a man in the final act of his life trying to make the world a better place in the ways he knows how. It is obvious that he still regrets his affair (something he refrains from going into) but has come to terms with his own mistakes as a human, something I still struggle with, especially around the holidays. I think most fascinating was his discussion of his political career and his reasons for service. It’s also obvious he wanted to run for President (darn that pesky Constitution). I think he would’ve been a good one.
Heather Cox Richardson, Democracy Awakening: Notes on the State of America. Look, there’s really at this point nothing that I can say about Heather and her work that you don’t already know. In fact, I almost didn’t list her book because I thought it was too obvious. But that wouldn’t be fair to Heather, nor to the people who are considering her work but haven’t had the chance to read it. Let me be clear: THERE IS NO HISTORIAN DOING MORE IMPORTANT WORK THAN HEATHER RIGHT NOW. End of story. The book is based on her observations happening around us right now, detailed nightly in her own Substack newsletter, Letters from an American. But more than that, it’s based off of her decades of scholarship and genuine concern about the wellbeing of the country and our fellow Americans. I got to help a little bit with this book. I know how much of herself she gave to it and gives to us to do what she does. If you somehow haven’t gotten your hands on this book, now is your chance.
Scott Laderman, Empire in Waves: A Political History of Surfing. We all have them. If you’re a historian, you’ve grabbed way too many books at a conference, put them on your shelf with the best of intentions, and watched them gather dust. Oh you planned to read them. In fact, their mere existence on the shelf created in you a certain amount of guilt that you hadn’t read them yet, each passing day a condemnation of sorts. For me, that was Scott’s book, first published by the University of California Press in 2014. If you know me closely, you know that one of my little loves is actually surf history, so it’s odd that it sat so long. But this year—finally—I opened this book and could not put it down.3 What I found were ruminations not only on the pursuit’s origins, but its diaspora, commodification and capitalization, but even how surfers confronted genocide and apartheid in the twentieth century. It’s tempting to compare this to actually riding a wave simply because of how enjoyable of a read this is, but that wouldn’t do justice to the deep intellectual engagement going on here. Expect to hear more about this book soon; Scott just came on to talk about it and the film Point Break (1991) for the pod, coming in January.
Rick McIntyre, The Reign of Wolf 21: The Saga of Yellowstone’s Legendary Druid Pack. I first learned of McIntyre’s book through the work of my academic hero Dan Flores’ Wild New World.4 I read the first book in the series, The Rise of Wolf 8, last Christmas and it was probably my second favorite book last year. I returned this year to read about 8’s adopted son and arguably greatest wolf in Yellowstone history, Wolf 21. This is more of the same, and by that I mean dramatic, compelling storytelling about something that matters. There are a lot of books about wolves. But no researcher has spent more time with the wolves, no one knows them better, and no one writes about them better than McIntyre. Of all the books on this list, you need to prepare yourself for the emotional rollercoaster that is The Reign of Wolf 21. No, I am not kidding. And I am just not ready to read the next in the series. This is that good.
Monte Burke, Lords of the Fly: Madness, Obsession, and the Hunt for the World Record Tarpon. I have a complicated history with fly fishing. My family is extremely working class, and the fish our our lives is not tarpon or trout caught on a fly, but flathead catfish caught on a trotline. Fly fishing is the pursuit of another class of person, something that still creeps into my mind each time I wade into a river or stream. I don’t belong here, I tell myself. My friend James Brooks, a phenomenal scholar who I think took pity on me, will hear nothing of that and has encouraged my exploration into the sport. I first encountered this book at a fly fishing shop in Salt Lake City called Western Rivers Flyfisher and I ordered it on my return to Colorado. I listened to it on Audible, then went and bought a hard copy of the book. This book is so much more than you think it is and if there’s a book on this list that might stretch your conceptualization of what good writing can do, it’s this one. Come for the lurid stories of egos, anglers, drugs, money, and sex, stay for the commentaries on former Governor Rick Scott’s corrupt administration and hope for environmental restoration in Florida. This book made me homesick.
And now for my favorite book of 2023….
Ready?
¿Lista?
Sarah McNamara, Ybor City: Crucible of the Latina South. Going into 2023, I did not know Sarah McNamara. I had never even heard of her. But I saw her book on the University of North Carolina Press’ catalog and knew that I had to read it. My late father-in-law John was born in Ybor. I’d visited there a couple times. Wanted to know more. Enter Sarah and the book she wrote. Her family going generations back hails from Ybor and before that, Cuba. As I told her when we finally met, what she wrote was one of the most beautifully written pieces of history I’ve ever encountered. It is in my mind, a love letter to Ybor City. And if you don’t know Ybor City, this is the American history story you need to know.5 Sarah chronicles the establishment of this distinctly Cuban-American ciudad outside Tampa in the 1870s by a bunch of prerevolutionary radical leftist women and men. She tells of the rise of the cigar industry in the city and through family histories tells about how women and men pushed back against fascism, established their own boundaries and identities separate from any place you’ve ever heard of. This book highlights the essentiality of women to Cuban American families and history and tells of the rise and fall of this amazing place. Buy this book. Read it. And then go to Ybor and walk it. I can’t do justice in this little blurb to just what I think of it. This isn’t a book to be read; it is a story to be experienced. It is my favorite book I read in 2023 and it’s not close.
So there you have it—my favorites of 2023. Have you read any of these? What did you think? What were your favorite books of the year and what are you looking forward to in 2024? Hit me below.
Ok a slight amount of pandering.
Lauren has been on the pod a couple of times. We really get into her work on her first appearance, when she and I talk about Old School.
I will not apologize for my em dash usage tonight.
No I have not met Flores yet, mostly because I am afraid I will squeal like a little kid on Christmas.
Sarah came on the podcast to talk about her book and the film Live by Night. Like her book, it’s one of my favorite pods we’ve done. And you don’t need to have seen the movie to enjoy the pod. Link here: