Holiday Spoiler Alert
If you’re on my Christmas list, you’re getting a book.
(Safe to say my family does not read this blog.) One of my all-time favorite novels, Little Women, begins with this sentence: “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents.” I love Jo March, but she had that wrong, as she soon discovered.
I grew up in an Irish Catholic family, where Christmas was very much celebrated, but it was never about presents. My father had us all living under the illusion that we were eternally broke, so Christmas was about other things. It was about the tree— always of the Charlie Brown variety and which deteriorated under nocturnal assaults from the cats. My mother displayed her nativity set, a rare treasure and also a target of the cats. (Sometimes she placed jelly jars therein to measure the level of feline malevolence and forgot about them, so the Holy Family had Smucker’s stand-ins all season.) Christmas was about midnight mass on December 24, and a frantic dinner on December 25. And Christmas was always about books. Books and candy were a mainstay, even during the “poorest” years. I always loved those books, even as I wished for the piles of clothes and gadgets my friends got.
I no longer attend mass and I’ve never had a nativity set.
Sometimes I have a tree, also of the Charlie Brown variety, and often under feline threat. Like many people, I’ve felt increasingly conflicted about the material onslaught of the holidays. There’s so much pressure to buy stuff and wrap it in shiny paper, and pay to ship it someplace else. My father’s view of things makes more sense to me the older I get. He wasn’t saying we couldn't afford a bunch of stuff; he was saying we didn't need it.
This line of thinking has grown more mainstream, of course. Marie Condo highlights the spiritual impact of clutter, and J. B KacKinnon lays out the direr environmental impacts. To Dad, who is no longer with us, holiday materialism was simply “horseshit.” I miss him and I’m grateful for his uncomplicated opinion.
I do love carrying on my family’s Christmas Book tradition.
Books are reusable, shareable, and biodegradable. Buying books supports writers, publishers, and bookstores. And every reader knows the burst of joy that comes from sharing a good book with someone we love. You’ve just got to read this, we say. Here are some favorites I’m giving this year. (And if you’ve been very good, there might be candy too.)
Nonfiction favs
The Fox and I: I adored this story of wildlife biologist Catherine Raven and her accidental friendship with a little fox.
The Nature Fix: Florence William’s exploration of how our brains respond to nature offers a look at how the natural world can ease the difficult task of being human.
Vesper Flights: In a series of essays, Helen MacDonald meditates on the birds that live among us and the everyday wonders that often go unnoticed.
A House of My Own: I’m a big fan of Sandra Cisneros’ fiction and loved this collection of essays published during her long career as a writer and as BIPOC feminist.
I Am I Am I Am: Seventeen Brushes With Death: I devoured Maggie O’Farrell’s fiction this summer and was just as taken with this unique collection of essays about her many strange near-death experiences.
Fiction Raves
Normal People: Sally Rooney has been hailed as the first great millennial novelist, but Normal People feels timeless to me. It’s about loneliness, longing, and sometimes failed attempts at human connection.
This Must Be the Place: One of Maggie O’Farrell’s wonderful novels, this saga is about flawed and difficult people trying to find their way back to each other.
The Book of Form and Emptiness: Ruth Ozeki’s novel follows a teenage boy and his mother as they struggle with the unexpected death of his father. A mystery in the library lies at the heart of this story.
Oh, William! I’ve not yet read this latest work of Elizabeth Strout’s, but it made the gift list because I’ve loved everything she’s written to date.
For kids of all ages
The Secret World of Weather: I’ve been loving this book by author Tristan Gooley, who also wrote How to Read Water and The Lost Art of Reading Nature’s Signs. Perfect for those curious about the natural world.
Little Women: Anyone who thinks this book about the four sisters living in the Civil War era is “just for girls” should ask themselves why books like The Yearling, Where the Red Fern Grows, and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn are called “classics” instead of “just for boys.”
The Velveteen Rabbit: This delightful story reminds us what it means to be real: to be loved.
Winnie the Pooh: “The only reason for making honey is so as I can eat it.” Our little bear soon learns that this is not true, but he learns lots of other things too.
The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and the Horse: A lovely crew and whimsical drawings tell a quiet inspiring truth—that it’s ok to be just who you are.
A word about where to buy your books.
Shopping at your local independent bookstore keeps dollars in your community and supports small business owners (who are your neighbors!). If they don’t have what you want on the shelf, they can usually get it in a matter of days at no extra charge. Another great option is Bookshop.org. Proceeds from their sales go to support independent bookstores.
If you’re looking for a signed copy of The Music of Bees or How to Be a Sister, you can order from my home town store, Waucoma Booksore.
And whatever holiday you’re celebrating, happy reading!
