11 Books Like Careless People

Set after the disastrous Athenian campaign in Sicily, the novel follows two Syracusan layabouts who roam the stone quarries offering wine and food to Athenian prisoners able to recite Euripides by heart. Their half-drunken idea of staging “Medea” right in the quarries turns into a bittersweet tragicomedy about friendship, humiliation, and the stubborn need for art when everything else has been destroyed. With contemporary, rough language and very human characters, the book finds comedy in horror and then reveals the pain behind the laughter, asking what culture can still do in a world shattered by war.

Morrison’s biography portrays Lorne Michaels, the creator and long‑time producer of “Saturday Night Live”, as an exacting showrunner whose life is inseparable from the weekly chaos of live television. Drawing on extensive access to Michaels and his collaborators, the book blends biography and cultural history to show how he built SNL into a central institution of American satire, navigating egos, network politics, and shifting social norms over five decades. It explores themes of creative leadership, institutional power, and the tension between nurturing talent and protecting the brand, suggesting that Michaels’ true legacy lies in his ability to keep reinventing the show while remaining obsessed with the next broadcast.

Most Americans think authoritarian ideologies are imported; Churchwell’s book shows they have deep native roots. What I found striking here was how phrases like “America First” and “The American Dream” have never had fixed meanings—they’ve always been battlegrounds, shaped by race, capitalism, nationalism, and myth. Churchwell builds her argument almost entirely from forgotten voices: local editors, preachers, fairground speakers—ordinary people whose words show us how national values are constructed from the ground up.

It’s a sobering read, not just because it reclaims the past, but because it exposes how easily language can be repurposed by demagogues in moments of political drift. This book reminded me that vigilance isn’t just about institutions—it’s about history, memory, and the rhetoric we take for granted.

This book gave me a deeper appreciation of how moral intuitions shape political divisions—not as accidents of ideology but as features of human psychology. Haidt’s metaphor of the elephant and the rider helped me see why rational argument so often fails to persuade across political lines: because reason follows intuition, not the other way around.

His mapping of multiple “moral taste buds”—including authority, loyalty, and sanctity—also challenged the narrow moral frameworks that dominate secular discourse. While I don’t agree with everything—particularly his optimistic lean toward moral equilibrium or his underemphasis on structural power—I admire his effort to move us beyond outrage toward curiosity. It’s a valuable guide for understanding why we talk past one another—and how we might start listening instead.

This book resonated deeply with me, and I enjoyed every word. Isabel beautifully bridges East and West by comparing two cultures. Thank you for sharing your incredible work with the world.

This book has become a touchstone in conversations about democratic erosion. What I found most compelling was how it uses global and historical patterns to explain how democracies can slide into authoritarianism—slowly, and often legally. It helped me connect institutional changes in the U.S. to larger global trends in democratic backsliding.

Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt argue that today’s democracies rarely collapse through sudden coups. Instead, they are gradually weakened from within by elected leaders who stretch or disregard institutional norms to expand their own power. These changes frequently occur under the appearance of legality, making democratic decay harder to detect.

Drawing on historical and global examples, the authors show how democracies slide into authoritarianism when two foundational norms begin to erode: mutual toleration (the recognition that political rivals are legitimate) and institutional forbearance (the practice of exercising restraint even when one holds legal authority). When those norms break down,… show more.

Nichols doesn’t just critique anti-intellectualism—he lays bare the cultural shift that made it acceptable to dismiss expertise altogether. What resonated with me is his central claim: that the erosion of trust in specialists is not merely ignorance, but a form of civic arrogance, reinforced by misinformation and a collapsing public discourse.

I don’t agree with all of his diagnoses—particularly when it comes to the role of the academy—but I share his concern that the rejection of expertise isn’t just bad for science or public health. It’s corrosive to democracy itself. This book made me reflect on how we, as citizens, must rebuild the norms of epistemic humility and shared knowledge that democratic life depends on.

For starters an absolutely brilliant book title: beautifully capturing the complexities of American culture, at once compelled by soaring social aspirations while tending to act out of pure individualism often with disdain for social impact. The narrative abounds in identifying seemingly contradictory national impulses – imported vs. Indigenous traditions, socialism vs. libertarianism, utopian vs. prosaic undertakings, the welcoming of and resisting of others – with the author arguing that through the interaction of such opposite impulses over time the particular genius of American society evolved. Kammen delights in reminding Americans of our “unstable pluralism,” and supports William James’ conclusion that “Americanism” continues to be a “volatile mixture of hopeful good and curable bad.”  Overall impressive scholarship and a delightful read.   

Enormous insight from one of the great scholars of America’s Revolutionary Era, especially as to the complex ruminations and motivations of the nation’s founders as they set out to invent a new society. At the core of their inspiration, ironically resulting from their very provincialism, being separated from European society by an ocean, was their ability to combine a deep sense of pragmatic realism with “a pervasive air of utopian idealism.” From this was formed a nation consistently looking to a better future. A sensibility perhaps best expressed by Thomas Jefferson: “I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past.” 

This is a very powerful book that takes the city of St. Louis as a case study to illustrate the amount of violence, discrimination, and inequities that have happened across a 300-year period, particularly with respect to race. 

Johnson develops the idea of racial capitalism throughout the book, and notes that “the red thread that runs through this entire book is the historical relationship between imperialism and anti-Blackness.” At the same time, the city has also been home to both communist and Black radical organizing into the 20th century. 

A highly interesting and important case study of American inequality and exploitation.