Books like A Nation of Neighborhoods — picked by fans

This eye-opening book was a revelation to me as a young student of architecture. It provided the keys to how cities really work. Its observations are as relevant and fresh today as they were when it was published in 1961. For me and many in my generation, it helped us to see and appreciate the organic, human-centered dynamics of neighborhoods, introducing the powerful concept of “organized complexity,” which made sense of things we saw but failed to understand.

I met Jane in Toronto in 1968 where she became a lifelong friend and mentor until her death in 2006. It remains a foundational text for me in understanding urban life and my life’s work. 

In an age of global warming, Klinenberg’s study of how Chicago did (and did not) cope with a horrible heat wave that hit the city in 1995, killing 739 residents, is more relevant than ever.

He shows how death rates varied hugely across neighborhoods, not so much based on socioeconomic status but on the cohesiveness of the community. In places where neighbors looked in on each other the death rate was lower.

Strong neighborhoods do not just enhance our lives, they can save lives.

I’ve often thought that discrimination against poor people is the last socially acceptable prejudice. Kahlenberg proves me correct.

While racial segregation has declined, economic segregation has increased exponentially. Kahlenberg exposes the myths and false arguments that justify economic discrimination. He shows that excluding the poor is most common in liberal communities on the two coasts.

Research demonstrates that where we grow up has a powerful effect on our ability to succeed in school and the job market, demolishing the idea that we are a meritocracy and that rich people deserve to live behind invisible walls in privileged communities.  

The civil rights movement was a great triumph, but I’ve always suspected that we lost something along the way–or maybe this solution just created new problems.

Lance Freeman shows how the pre-civil rights ghetto, enforced by racist laws, was often a hothouse of Black culture, Black-controlled institutions, and Black power. The contemporary Black ghetto, largely abandoned by the middle class, is a place of concentrated poverty and despair.

We never want to go back to Jim Crow, but we need to address the concentrated poverty that is eviscerating many neighborhoods. Rejecting simplistic understandings of gentrification, Freeman shows that Black gentrification, under the right circumstances, could make Black spaces havens again. Freeman is not only smart, I think, but brave in challenging conventional wisdom. 

Full disclosure—I’m a former New Yorker who adores the Big Apple.

So how could I not include a book set on the vibrant, unpredictable island of Manhattan? Anna Quindlen has long been one of my go-to writers, and this is my favorite of her novels – sophisticated, subtle, and thought-provoking.

It revolves around a series of characters—some earnest, some quirky, but all flawed—who live in an apartment building rocked by a disturbing act of violence. I love this book because of all the questions it raises about family, loyalty, and community—and I love the way the building becomes a kind of island itself.

To me, Quindlen is a top-notch chronicler of contemporary motherhood, marriage, and family—and with this story, she is at her best.

If you ask me or anyone else in the punk scene in 80s/90s New York, St. Mark’s Place—which was the epicenter of cool in our day—is a sad parody of itself now, touristy and dull. Until I read this book, I assumed its heyday began and ended with us, with Trash and Vaudeville and Manic Panic, with drinking 40-ounce beers on stoops.

Well, it turns out every generation that’s ever had a heyday on this famous, radical, anarchic block—whether as a gangster or dancing at Andy Warhol’s notorious Electric Circus parties—thought theirs was the only era that mattered. Calhoun chronicles hundreds of years of this exact attitude, which is fascinating and gives me some perspective.

My Papi Has a Motorcycle is a unique look at not just a father-daughter relationship, but at how they connect with their whole community. My own dad had a motorcycle, and from waiting for him to get home from work, to slipping that big helmet on, to holding onto him tightly as we flew down the streets, I connected with this story and the bond between father and daughter. A special outing with Dad, or Papi, is always a treat, and this book brings that to life.

This book manages to be both personal and political, valuing people’s stories and experiences while explaining the way redlining and urban renewal impact individuals over generations.

Mindy Fullilove doesn’t just talk about what happened when the brutality and racism of urban renewal uprooted diverse communities; she tells how it felt and what we can do now. Fullilove has been described as “the town shrink,” and her insistence on and commitment to cities as spaces where people’s well-being should be cared for is inspiring. 

In this book, she tells real stories of neighbors in Pittsburgh, PA, Newark, NJ, and Roanoke, VA–not places on which many books focus. As I read, her narrative expanded my mind about the ways we are all connected through our humanity and these often painful histories of place and what that connection implies for all of our futures. 

I once lived in a close-knit neighborhood similar to the one in which this novel is set, and I was entranced by the interplay between the variety of characters in this tale of domestic suspense. The story isn’t so much about the woman who disappears one night as it is about the perplexed bunch of girlfriends who are left behind. I relished the voyeuristic peek into the hidden dramas of the various neighbors’ personal and family lives—it made me feel like I was riding a silent drone through the ’burbs, swooping unseen through kitchens, bedrooms, and backyards, uncovering people’s secrets!

The Husbands is not marketed as a “mom book,” but as a mother of young children, I saw so much of my own life on the pages.

The story follows Nora Spangler, an overworked attorney who is pregnant with her second child, as she digs into a wrongful-death lawsuit centered on a fatal house fire. The story teems with drama between the mystery of the fire and the motives for its potential coverup, but my favorite part of the book is how Baker gives voice to the things we as mothers “aren’t supposed” to say.