Books like Imagination — picked by fans

I, like Garbes, was a pandemic mom who lived through the brief moment in 2020 and 2001 when it seemed our culture was finally about to recognize that the world runs on unacknowledged work by women. Garbes writes from her experience as a mother of young kids and a descendant of mass migration of nurses out of the Philippines, to open a window into what a world that valued care work would look like.

I love how Garbes sees that giving care its due would require a radical, almost spiritual change, but also how the solutions she sees go beyond the symbolic. She seamlessly blends the agenda of “mothering for social change” with the agenda of supporting the National Domestic Workers’ Alliance’s fight for fair working conditions for paid domestic workers. This book is a really special blend of mom lit and feminist politics.

I love how this dazzling book reveals a deep truth that is known to so many women of color but obscured by the white feminist myth of individualism. There is no way we can be not related to each other, so the real question that matters for politics is not whether we will be related to each other; it is how we want to be.

Part excavation of settler colonialism—including its effects on Indigenous women—and part meditation on how to build solidarity without denying our complicity in oppressive structures, the book is visionary and even manages to be hopeful. It also draws attention to an issue that no 21st-century feminism can afford to ignore: our relationships with the land. I learned so much about what it means to show up for each other and about why we have to.

Speaking of women’s labor, Verges, a French feminist theorist from the island of Reunion, opens this manifesto with a question that I think really gets to the heart of global feminist politics: “Who cleans the world?” This simple question, she argues, explains the fundamental connection between feminism and the other key struggles of our time—the fact that capitalism creates “invisible work and disposable lives.”

Starting from the lives of women in the global South, who are literally found cleaning up the waste of the global North, she reveals that feminism cannot be a fight for the women of the global majority unless it fights racial and economic inequality on a planetary scale. Verges also offers a compelling analysis of #metoo: opposition to gender-based violence cannot begin and end with a focus on individual perpetrators, nor can we allow it to become part of an agenda that criminalizes Black and brown… show more.

I watched in awe in 2015 as thousands of women took to the streets of Buenos Aires to protest the murder of a young woman and the culture of impunity surrounding gender-based violence. This chronicle of the movement, written by one of the founders of the Ni Una Menos collective, offers a passionate reminder that social change can still happen in the streets.

Ni Una Menos began as a movement against femicide, snowballed into a women’s strike, and became one of the driving forces behind the movements that have felled abortion bans all over Latin America in the last five years. In reading, I learned all kinds of lessons about feminist politics—about things like how to connect the concerns of trans and cis women and how to frame abortion restrictions as a form of gender-based violence rather than mere infringements on choice. 

We can spend our time hiding behind the sofa as a volatile and uncertain world emerges around us. I chose Scharmer’s book and vision to ensure my sofa is for sitting, not hiding. For me, Scharmer is a revolutionary for a better world, inviting us to develop and lean into awareness, consciousness, presence, system thinking, and the recognition that all is connected to resolve the crises facing our world.

I like the scale of the shared vision and the practical guidance to shift from short-termism to leading in a way that secures a more positive future for the planet. Among the gems of this book for me are the hope-giving real-world examples of Scharmer’s Theory U in action—no more hiding.

I could really choose any book by Slavoj Žižek as the starting for a psychoanalytic critique of capitalism, but this one is very accessible for someone who has never read him. It also gets into the current dilemmas that are rocking capitalist society. In this book, Žižek shows how psychoanalysis (combined with Hegel’s philosophy) can provide a corrective to the traditional Marxist critique of capitalism. We see here how the attempt to construct an ethical capitalism inevitably fails and obscures a new barbarism. 

This book takes you on a long tour through a pivotal decade in the emergence of the second wave of feminism in the United States of America via oral history, detailing actions, bios, and anecdotes of key figures. For the first time, I heard the ‘behind the scenes’ dynamics, interpersonal links, and public and private differences between many familiar figures such as Gloria Steinem, Betty Friedan, Shirley Chisolm, and many, many other not-so-well-known but leading feminists.

This is a gripping account of determination, leading thinking, differences of opinion, and risky activism in the USA in a tricky decade for women, which had a profound effect on how second-wave feminism developed not only in America, but globally. I was gripped.

Cambodia, Joel Brinkley writes, is the most dangerous country in the world. The first one falls in love with it, then it breaks one’s heart. Cambodia’s Curse is a book of two tales. Brinkley’s retelling of the war years is a little revisionist but the chapters on the post-war reconstruction, the dirty politics, the lack of opportunities for ordinary people, and the venality of the government that remains in place to this day rightly and masterfully lay the blame for countless missed opportunities to create a more equitable society both into the hands of the international community’s attempts to create ‘democracy’ and Hun Sen’s regime.

This one is for girls who want to know more about tomboys in the here and now. Davis essentially asks “how did we get to this time of transgender and nonbinary identity?” She interrogates the term “tomboy” as a way of understanding how our understanding of gender norms has changed and remained unchanged—at the same time.

Describes in depth a brave new world of uncertain constant acceleration and continued change in institutions and social relations.

I like the way Bauman depicts a condensing resonance, a new way of “being in the world.” Specifically, this is an increasing fluidity and fragmentation of social solidarities, where nothing is secure and where everything can be made redundant.

A world that Ulrich Beck, even before the new century, referred to as “the Second Modernity.”