I’m a big nerd who reads too much. Don’t take any of this too seriously.
This strange little gem of a novel flies by in a flash, slowly pulling the reader along with just enough intrigue and mystery to build suspense from chapter to chapter.
Gay-Neck is, hands down, the best title to win the Newbery Medal as of 2020. What is a gay-neck? Why is it hyphenated? What makes it gay? Is it only the neck that’s gay, or are some other body parts at least bi-curious?
Will James’s life certainly doesn’t have the markings of a traditionally celebrated children’s author—he spent a year in Nevada State Penitentiary for stealing cattle, moved around between stunt work and the Army, and developed a serious drinking problem that sent him to the grave at age 50.
Of the five books recognized by the Newbery Award selection committee in 1925 and 1926, four of them were short story collections. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Once lockdown hit in March, I decided to read 100 books in 2020. And as of the ball drop on December 31st, I’d finished 104. (Though it was a lovely experience, here’s hoping I have less free time on my hands in 2021!) My selection ran the gamut, from rereading old favorites that did (To Kill a Mockingbird) and didn’t (East of Eden) hold up, to tearing through the complete works of Kurt Vonnegut and the Harry Potter series. Here’s a list of the cream of the crop, 10 books I read this year that stood out as being particularly touching, impressive, and meaningful.
Assuming that these really are all folktales from different cultures, that makes Silver Lands something like the written equivalent of a mixtape. Too bad the DJ blows.
Poor Charles Boardman Hawes. In 1922, his sophomore novel, The Great Quest, came runner-up to The Story of Mankind for the inaugural Newbery Medal. By the time he won the prize in 1924, he’d been dead for nearly a year, cut down by a sudden bout of pneumonia.
This alternatingly charming and problematic book is probably way more racist than you remember.
And so begins my journey through every one of the first 100 John Newbery Medal recipients. What did adults think kids should be reading in 1921?
More than most years, 2020 left me plenty of time to catch up on old music I either hadn’t heard before or hadn’t quite clicked with me yet. Here are 10 songs, albums, and artists that stood out to me in the past twelve months.
American Head, The Flaming Lips’ 16th(!) studio album, is a timely reminder that America’s weirdest psych rockers are more than bubble-bound festival mainstays. Forming in Oklahoma in the mid-80s and zagging from generic garage rock to 90s alt heroes to indie rock godfathers, the Wayne Coyne-led band has outlasted its peers and covered more stylistic ground successfully than any other band I can think of in the last 30 years. At their late-90s/early-00s peak, the Lips full-hearted symphonies paved the way for Obama-era optimism. In the band’s darker moments, though, the Fearless Freaks show that we’ve got plenty to be afraid of, finding ways to channel anxiety and violence in ways that resound more in 2020 than upon their initial release.
When people talk about the best MCs of all-time, why isn’t Missy’s name near the top of the list? She’s a triple-threat, rapping, singing and producing across some of the best records of the 90s and 00s. The sound she pioneered with production partner Timbaland—a hiccuping, spacey counterpart to the sample-heavy East and the G-funk West—laid out a blueprint for modern R&B that’s still being followed today.
Until her death last year, Toni Morrison was the greatest living American author. After her death last year, let’s just call her the greatest American author. For my money, no other writer has excavated history to capture the American experience in a way that feels as true or as potent as Morrison.
Being born the daughter of the greatest filmmaker of the 70s has gotta come with as much baggage as it does privilege, especially when said daughter wants to follow in her father’s footsteps. Sofia Coppola’s first introduction to much of the world was in The Godfather Part III, a best-forgotten snoozefest that tanked the series’ perfect record and let us all get to know Sofia as a piss-poor actress before she knocked the world on its ass with The Virgin Suicides in 1999.
