100 Books Like The adventures of Rynnie Roo and Tater Too!

This book is set in Mexico City, when a little girl takes her dog for a walk through her vibrant neighborhood, suddenly there is an earthquake! Everything goes completely silent, and then she sees the people race around and help friends and neighbors who are in trouble. She looks down to discover the baker’s little dog, alone and afraid. She scoops him up and decides to help him home.

Such an enchanting book. The illustrations are spectacular and detailed and so incredibly appealing, and the story mixes in some Spanish words, but it’s done in a way that makes it easy to follow. The flow of this book is absolutely flawless and perfectly captures life in Mexico City.

Two cheerful deer take us on a tour of their city of Mazatlán, Mexico. I love the tone of this book—wide-eyed enthusiasm for this fascinating city.

The book is bilingual in English and Spanish and is full of humor and the incredible sights and sounds of Mexico. It makes you want to hop on a plane and explore. The story is in verse and is great for reading in my class, particularly kindergarten. The art adds a lot, and the Spanish translation is very well done.

Grandma comes home from her visit to Mexico with a suitcase full of surprises. Inside was a wonderful little drum and a clay bird whistle. After playing music, Sabrina learns more about Mexico, from Mayan Princesses to cities of gold and chocolate, of course. Cacao seeds were used as money in the times of the Mayans! They also like to have melted chocolate poured over bowls of snow, just like a chocolate snow cone. After an afternoon of making traditional Mexican hot chocolate, Sabrina starts to understand that chocolate is an important part of her ancestor’s history.

I loved all the history and the illustrations in this bilingual book, and of course, I love chocolate!

Two cousins, Charlie and Carlito, write to each other about their lives. Charlie is in the United States and talks about riding the subway to school in the big city and playing basketball with friends. Carlito is in the country in Mexico and walks to school each day past the “burro” (donkey) and the “nopales” (cactus), and plays football with his friends. Some things seem different but in many ways their lives are alike.

The art is a simple style but really charming and colorful and has won an honor award for the illustrations. There are Spanish words peppered through the book and what I really like is that it shows the strong connection between the two countries. In many ways, the United States and Mexico are also cousins.

In this masterpiece of historical narrative, Paul Sullivan investigates the 1875 sacking of a sugar plantation (called Xuxub) and the murder of its American manager by Maya rebels. Located on the geographical frontier between “Ladino” and Maya society, Xuxub became a microcosm of all of the conflicts that haunted Mexico as it entered its “Guilded Age”: inter-elite rivalries, international competition in the wake of the U.S.-Mexico War, and the overwhelming fear that the nation’s Indigenous population would rise up against encroaching liberal capitalism. It all comes together in a murder mystery, written more like true crime than an academic text, right down to the final poetic twist. This is an immensely enjoyable read, so much so that I have read it no fewer than fifteen times. 

Maybe not the littlest story, but this is a classic. What begins as a pretty straightforward story of Spanish conquest and conversion takes an (even more) sinister turn in 1562, when Franciscan priests find bones and idols in a clandestine ceremonial center. What follows is a full-blown, informal Inquisition, in which Franciscan priests tortured thousands of innocent Maya, disabled thousands more, and burned 17 Maya codices, creating a “hall of mirrors” in which conquistadores were forced to beg priests to take mercy on the Indigenous peoples. Inga Clendinnen probes the psyche of the Inquisition’s mastermind, Bishop Diego de Landa – a man sent to Yucatán to protect the Maya – and draws some shocking and disturbing conclusions, not only about the man, but about impunity and corruption in the colonial project. I am convinced she is the only historian who could have written this book.

I grew up, like many other Yucatecans, convinced by my family and friends that Yucatecan cuisine is one of the best in the world, and it took many years and an anthropology degree for me to see this as a form of ethnocentrism.

Ayora-Diaz examines and deconstructs this belief, deep-seated in Yucatecans' minds, through his sophisticated study of Yucatecan regionalism through the lens of food and gastronomy.

The author proposes that what is now understood and acknowledged as “Yucatecan food” has been created out of three converging threads: home kitchens, recipe books, and restaurants. Through food, Yucatecans have carved a regionalism almost in opposition to a “Mexican” identity.

Weaving theory, ethnography, and food anecdotes, this book will leave you hungry, wanting to try all the food in Yucatan.

Reed’s wonderful writing style and great turns of phrase make this an enjoyable read, while his attention to detail and excellent research make it requisite to understanding the long Caste War of the Maya after 1847. It is a critical antidote to works that pay too little attention to indigenous agents, to religious motivations, and to a long-simmering insurrection with vibrant cultural voices. Other works have taken this on since, but it remains a classic.

I remember reading this when it first came out and being unable to put it down. The Mayan decipherment is still ongoing, and Michael Coe wrote with the knowledge and expertise of someone on the front line of researchers. The decipherments of Hieroglyphic Egyptian and Linear B are usually told as ‘hero-narratives’, in which one individual’s genius was able to make the breakthrough. This book reminds us that all decipherments are made incrementally, and gives due space to the many different contributions made to a decipherment.

The colonial period of Mexico was a mystery to me, so I turned to the ultimate source, this book by Paz. Surprisingly, I found that I did not agree with all of Paz’s conclusions about Sor Juana and the time she lived. He wrote from a male perspective, a middle-aged scholarly male perspective. Sor Juana was a young woman, a distinguished scholar in her own right. Had she written such a history, it would be quite different.

Sadly, there is no such book written from a woman’s perspective, so I invite you to join me in discovering what nuggets of wisdom you can in this book, truly the ultimate deep dive into Sor Juana’s life and times. Yes, I relied a great deal on Paz’s research. You will find it fascinating too.