La Vita Nuova (Poems of Youth) by Dante Alighieri and translated by Barbara Reynolds

This collection of poetry and commentary serves two purposes: it documents Dante's love for Beatrice, from their first meeting to beyond her death, and it allows Dante to offer his theory of poetic composition. Dante justifies writing poetry in the vernacular, rhyming lines of verse, and using figurative language by its subject: if the poet aspires to convey a deeper meaning, these techniques are legitimate. He forces readers to look beyond the mechanics of the sonnet form--often his notes about the division of the poem appear in different places than the traditional octet/sestet split; thus, he demonstrates the tension inherent in sonnets between prescribed form and inspired content. The poetry after Beatrice's death is particularly moving: news of her death forces him to break off a canzone, and then he offers less guidance on how to read the sonnets (one of which even starts in two different ways). He demonstrates a transition in his love: while at the start of the work, he loves Beatrice as a woman on earth, by the end of the sequence he realizes that she can become a heavenly guide to divine love (in fact, she becomes the Beatrice of the Divine Comedy). A lovely and thought-provoking collection of poetry.

Grit Lit: A Rough South Reader edited by Brian Carpenter and Tom Franklin

This anthology collects short stories, excerpts of novels, and excerpts of autobiographical writing from what the editors describe as the rough south or grit lit genre. Indeed, the anthology shines in its generic formulation: the introduction and headnotes to each story help clarify what rough south means. In this case, it's contemporary (so Faulkner and O'Connor aren't here), it tends to be white and poor and created by outrageous autobiographical stories instead of academic training (although some of the later writers have participated in various MFA programs and other forms of higher education--and this experience raises ambivalent feelings in them), and it often features a kind of toughness or grit. I enjoyed the stories; some were better than others, but it was a fairly engaging collection all in all. Harry Crews's and Dorothy Allison's writings stand out as gems.

Animals in Translation: Using the Mysteries of Autism to Decode Animal Behavior by Temple Grandin and Catherine Johnson

This book posits that we can better understand animal behavior by paying more attention to the differences in the way they understand, perceive, and interact with the world. Grandin also suggests that she better understands animals than most people because her autism allows her to perceive the specific details of the world the way animals do, instead of generalizing details the way most non-autistic human brains do. The book covers a wide variety of fields (autobiography, autism, animal behavior, animal training, and animal cognition, just to name a few) and Grandin handles them deftly and clearly--referring both to research studies in clear ways and specific, illustrative anecdotes. I think the book's most compelling point comes at the end: we should seek to understand animals better in order to give them as good lives (when they're in contact with humans) as possible, because it's likely that domesticating animals (wolves specifically) is a large part of what made us evolve as humans (different from other primates). The book also has some great advice for how humans can most safely approach their relationships with domesticated dogs--eliminating aggression problems so you won't need a trainer.

Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell

I really enjoyed this book, which is perhaps best described as creative non-fiction in the style of Tony Horwitz or Bill Bryson. It's about the assassinations of Abraham Lincoln, James Garfield, and William McKinley--but it's also about the author's obsession with these assassinations and her travels to places relevant to them. Vowell has a vibrant personality with strong opinions she doesn't try to hide--which makes reading interesting, if, for example, you're not on the far left or of the opinion that Baltimore is a dangerous city you really wouldn't want to visit (except for the fact that John Wilkes Booth is buried there). The book also was a little uneven (the sections get progressively shorter, so there's more about Lincoln than Garfield, and more about Garfield than McKinley, and then a really short coda about Robert Todd Lincoln, who was on the scene at all three assassinations), but what I really felt was missing was an explanation: why stop with these three? While other assassinations were mentioned (John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X) it was only in passing--and if the book's about presidential assassinations, why rule out Kennedy? Obviously Kennedy's a big can of worms (and conspiracy theories)--but take a moment to say that! Overall, though, I found this book incredibly entertaining and informative: it's full neat facts and coincidences and it explores a potentially-overlooked corner of the American psyche.

One Writer's Beginnings by Eudora Welty

In this autobiography Eudora Welty writes, obliquely about her growth as a writer. She gives a lot of background--both about her childhood and her family, and writes about what it was like to grow up in the South with parents who were not Southerners. This book was an enjoyable read; it felt personal but not crafted or calculated to evoke a particular literary response.

Black Boy by Richard Wright

This autobiography chronicles Richard Wright's development as a writer--it starts in early childhood, when his only way of shaping and constructing his environment is through action and he vents his frustration and boredom by playing with fire (and setting the family home ablaze). Despite his frustration with his family life and with race relations in the South, and a very haphazard education (he only completes the ninth grade, and most years he only attends part of his classes), he discovers that writing and books offer him a way out of the tension he feels living as an African American man in the U.S. South. In the second half of the book, he moves to Chicago and becomes involved with the Communist Party. The book chronicles both the hope (for racial unity) and disillusion he feels as a result of his involvement with the Party. The story Wright tells is at times moving, and at other times horrific (for example, he lynches a kitten)--and this horror is necessary to his story. Wright's careful attention to the power of language--both at its most lyrical (he uses anaphora to show his childhood self confronting and moving beyond barriers to perception) and most violent (the power of words to threaten and cause violence) make this book essential for any writer, beyond its sociological importance.

A Life by Elia Kazan

This autobiography recounts Kazan's life, in detail until the end of his film career, and then in sketches (mostly focusing on the death of his second wife and friends) until the late nineteen eighties. The tone of the book suggests that Kazan isn't holding anything back (not always true, as he himself admits), although he tends to speak forthrightly about most subjects (it seems the people he wants to impress, or at least not to scandalize, are his children, despite their relatively small parts in the book itself). There's a bit of back and forth--the story doesn't always go strictly chronologically, especially where Kazan's Congressional testimony in 1952 is concerned. It does give Kazan's take on that testimony in fairly straightforward rehearsal of his side of those events. Overall, the book is enjoyable--definitely an entertaining read. It explains a lot about Kazan's behavior, his choices, and his methods of directing, even if its subject is not always sympathetic (the womanizing without apology, in particular, struck me as egregious).

Bossypants by Tina Fey

This book offers a rollicking good time. Not only is Fey hilarious (and that's no surprise for anyone who's seen her on SNL or 30 Rock), but she also provides a lot worth thinking about in terms of sexism, the relationship between politics and entertainment, stand up comedy, and leadership. You can easily understand why Fey has had such success as a writer after reading this book: she moves gracefully from one incident to another, not always keeping a strict chronology, but always entertaining and writing well. Just another reason to keep watching 30 Rock. 

The Autobiography of Malcolm X as told to Alex Haley

In this book Malcolm X and Alex Haley work together to tell the story of Malcolm X's life. He doesn't hold any punches either--we see a tragic childhood give way to a life of hustling and crime before Malcolm X discovers the Nation of Islam. We also see his break with the Nation of Islam. There's a helpful epilogue that not only gets into Haley's relationship to Malcolm X, but that also covers the assassination. A moving book.

A Home Elsewhere: Reading African American Classics in the Age of Obama by Robert Stepto

This book looks back at the African American canon and contrasts scenes in writers such as W. E. B. Du Bois, Zora Neale Hurston, and Frederick Douglass to scenes in Obama's Dreams of My Father. It's perhaps not surprising that these scenes are often educational--for example, set in a school--because of Stepto's earlier thesis, that African American literature is driven by freedom and literacy narratives. While the book offers persuasive readings, and the comparisons to Obama are interesting, it doesn't have the heft, examples, or theoretical grounding to be a major work.

My Bondage and My Freedom by Frederick Douglass

Frederick Douglass's second autobiography is much longer than Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass despite the fact that only ten years elapsed between the two books. This book, while it treats Douglass's life through 1855, still focuses mainly on his life as a slave. There's much more description of his life in slavery, though, and in some senses it's less personal--there are several chapters devoted to various aspects of how the slave system works, on the plantation level.

Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave by Frederick Douglass

In this book, the first of three autobiographies that Douglass would write, Douglass writes about his experiences as a slave. He spends a lot of time dealing with how he learned to read and write and his decisions to stand up for himself (against Mr. Covey) and to escape to freedom. He doesn't detail the escape itself so that other enslaved persons could still use that route. The book is brief, but moving.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

In this book Maya Angelou recounts her childhood. We get to see the Great Migration at work--Maya's parents moved to California, and sent Maya and her brother to live with their grandmother in Arkansas after their divorce, though the children make trips north during their childhoods. I particularly liked the portrait of Maya's grandmother, whom she called Momma, and the portrayal of family life.