Books like A Hundred Little Hitlers — picked by fans

I always love it when a work of history connects with and helps me understand the present, and Linda Gordon’s book certainly does that.

Not only does she provide a riveting account of the revival of the Klan in the 1920s, she clearly demonstrates the tremendous impact the organization had on America during this period and long beyond, through its skillful use of demagoguery, its canny media strategy and its underlying politics of resentment.

We tend to think that the success of the civil rights movement in the United States during the 1950s and 1960s was somehow inevitable. But as Clive Webb shows in this marvelous history, this was not really the case. Resistance to civil rights, especially in the South, was deep-seated, widespread, and vicious.

Unearthing the almost forgotten history of racist extremists such as Bryant Bowles, John Kaspar, J.B. Stoner, Rear Admiral John Crommelin, and Major General Edwin Walker, Webb reminds us of the sobering reality that there is often very little separating extremist voices from those of many “ordinary” Americans.

I first read this book as a student in the 1990s, and it has always stayed with me, becoming more and more relevant as time has gone by.

Covering films like Rambo: First Blood Part II, Red Dawn, and Top Gun, magazines such as Soldier of Fortune, weekend paintballers, the NRA, and the foreign policy (mis)adventures of the Reagan and Bush administrations, alongside the activities of various white supremacists, Gibson’s book is a wholly enlightening account of the ongoing appeal of guns, violence, paramilitarism, and what we would now call “toxic masculinity” in American life.

Faced with the deluge of modern events, I rely on intrepid authors like Mogelson to help me make sense of the world.

The book is his report back from spending a year traveling across the U.S. from the spring of 2020 to the winner of 2021, from Covid-lockdown protests in Michigan to the insurrection of January 6 in Washington, D.C. I found it both insightful and heartbreaking. 

I am haunted by the story that Richard Allen heard skinheads were a thing, went to a pub, bought a couple of local skinheads a few pints while he pumped them for stories and then went away and wrote Skinhead in a weekend.

A weekend?! It totally shows. Skinhead is as rough, nasty, and real as pulp fiction gets. Titular skinhead Joe Hawkins is a horrendously violent teenage thug, but beyond the aggro is a beautiful pen portrait of working-class London in the 70s. All chipped formica and smashed in faces.

It’s the sort of raw crime writing I find terrifying and compelling all at the same time. It’s so short, visceral, and urgent I inhaled it in one sitting.

When I first read this book, I could not put it down. Taylor is a beautiful storyteller, and it’s no surprise that her book was a finalist for the LA Times book award.

Taylor teaches readers that during slavery sometimes revenge was justice or the closest thing to it. Story after story, we are introduced to women who suffered terribly at the hands of their enslaver. But in each case, women fought back, plotted, and sought revenge against their perpetrators.

What I appreciated about the book is that it pushes back against the idea that Black women were passive or even nonviolent. This book gives us a portrait into the personal relationships that ended in bloodshed because of the violence of slavery.

How can a story about white supremacists, lottery tickets, and turtles make you laugh? In Carl Hiaasen’s Lucky You, murder and mayhem are the least of its treasures. Hiaasen’s style is witty, wildly humorous and with a keen eye for the obvious. He has a way of inhabiting his stories with colorful, bombastic characters who linger long after you turn that last page. He sets most of his stories in southern Florida, which only adds to Hiaasen’s unique setting and style.

In colonial North America, plantation owners were equal opportunity exploiters who mistreated European and African laborers alike, and workers frequently resisted by running away, stealing or destroying property, and engaging in occasional rebellions. Theodore Allen explains how colonial elites invented America’s racial divide through a series of laws that ended up enslaving most African Americans for life and reserving the rights of freedom and citizenship for European Americans. Since then, race and class have been intertwined, laying the basis for white supremacist practices and beliefs that shaped the development of the United States and continue to allocate wealth and power unequally today.

A brilliant, and to my mind greatly persuasive, critique of the entire world as it has been since roughly the 16th century. With a great grasp of the traditional branches of contractarian philosophy (think, emblematically, Locke on one hand and Rawls on the other), Mills describes a different social contract among white people that fixes all others as sub-persons. He argues that, while certainly not all white people are signatories to that implicit contract, white people all are beneficiaries of it to some extent. The book's sophistication is enhanced, never diminished, by the confident accessibility and humanity of the writing.

I contacted Gilbert Moore in 2014 to share how valuable his book Rage was to my perspective as an author writing about the ground-breaking defense in the 1968 “trial of the century”, People v. Newton. Moore covered that headliner for LIFE magazine as its first black reporter. He agreed to be interviewed for our documentary project American Justice on Trial. Tragically, he died before the interview occurred. Watching that extraordinary trial caused Moore to engage in soul-searching, quit his plum job, and write his critically acclaimed book about the epiphany he experienced. Rage is considered a classic in African-American literature – an unparalleled window into the impact of that unprecedented Movement trial on pioneering black professionals in a white supremacist environment – through the eyes and pen of a firsthand observer.