100 Books Like The Bell of the World

While there has been some controversy about the science in Simard’s book, there’s no doubt that it’s a great read that juxtaposes Simard’s personal life with her scientific life.

I was drawn to her personal story, which takes place in both government and academic spheres. I cried with her when her brother passed away, and I was proud with her when her daughter said she might want to study forestry at university.

The mix of science and memoir works well in this book, showing how the two are inextricably entwined. I was impressed by how hard Simard worked to keep her family together, particularly when she was a professor at UBC in Vancouver, and they were living in Nelson.  

There is a purity and grace about this book that is deeply moving; it tells me about the love of a good man, as he explores his own life in the face of death. All he has to leave his small son is not money but the possibility of dedicating oneself to a good life.

It is set in middle America, in 1956, when I, as it happens, was ten years old. Everything that matters to me is captured here in this exquisite book. It is written beautifully, not ever weighed down by mind-numbing cliches. If only everyone would read this book, I thought as I sobbed my way through it, there would be no wars, and there would be time and inspiration for healing the planet. I take it with me wherever I go.

I discovered Wohlleben’s book when I was writing about my own emergent relationship with trees. I was learning to think with quantum field theory and new materialism, and very conscious of the way some of my writing was sounding like I was teetering on the edge of madness.

Wohlleben offered me insights into my own relations with trees, and he enabled me to articulate not only my love of trees but the Earth’s dependence on them as they grow together in old-growth forests. At the same time, Wohlleben makes horribly clear the motivation of politicians globally to destroy old-growth forests out of their own ignorance and greed, intensified by the loggers who lie to them and hide the truth from them. 

I come back to Karen Barad again and again for the theoretical clarity she offers. Her book is like the Holy Bible is to some Christians. I can dip into it again and again and discover new insights. Barad, too, has experienced resistance to her take on quantum physics. But I believe her writing to be essential to the development of a new ethics, that is vital if the Earth is to survive.

Her ethics is based on an understanding that we are not simply, or solely, the ego-driven and greedy individuals of neoliberalism. We are beings in relation with each other and in relation with the more-than-human world. Not just in relation with, but emergent with the world, in our intra-actions with it. 

Yes, history is important. This is a recurring theme in my courses, because if we don’t know how we got here, then our efforts to address the urgent problems we face will be hampered by our inability to understand the root causes of those problems. 

Public intellectual Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz once again does us a great service with her latest book in revealing the deep roots of racist oppression against citizens and noncitizens. She explodes the foundational myth of the United States as nation of immigrants, showing how this country is instead defined by settler colonialism—the efforts to destroy Indigenous civilizations to build a new, permanent society with the exploited labor of enslaved Black people, and migrant workers of all kinds. Her book crucially helps us understand how Native people and immigrants are not opposed to each other, but are instead subjugated by the same forces and thus share struggles for… show more.

Anita Heiss is an Australian academic and author of a number of insightful books on what it’s like being Indigenous in Australia. Her novel Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray begins in 1852 with a catastrophic flood that is a metaphor for the disastrous effects of European colonisation. Told mainly through the eyes of a young Wiradjuri woman, the novel is a powerful exploration of the clash of cultures that followed European settlement and appropriation of the land. It is a vivid and moving depiction of the unbalanced power relations between the races as well as between men and women.

Thomas’ book taught me that, when we adopt a colonial analysis, we have to rethink every category of analysis: “masculinity” and “femininity,” “heterosexual” and homosexual,” and so on. I also came to accept that there is a deeply sadistic eroticism in all racial and colonial oppression.  

I learned that Western colonialism simultaneously positions African-descended people outside the category “human” while also projecting Western categories of gender and sexuality onto these colonized peoples in order to unjustifiably blame them for the worst behavior imaginable.  

Thomas convinced me that modern theories of gender and sexuality not only fail to provide sufficient critiques of oppression but that they re-inscribe oppressive conceptions of identity by smuggling colonial ideology in the back door, inspiring me to rethink everything I thought I knew about identity.

This travel diary by the Nobel Prize winning French writer was published in 1927 and expertly translated by his lifelong friend Dorothy Bussy. Gide dedicated his book and its sequel, Return from Chad, to Joseph Conrad, whose Congolese itinerary Gide retraced in part. In 1926 and 1927, the Frenchman spent ten months in Equatorial Africa with his lover Marc Alégret, making no secret of his sexual preference for young men and boys. In these travelogues, Gide fiercely criticized French colonialism and especially France’s “concessionary companies,” the large monopolistic firms that cruelly exploited Congolese laborers forced under inhuman conditions to harvest raw rubber. France’s Congo colony reproduced the excesses of its Belgian counterpart, despite the efforts of Gide and other prominent French figures to reform it.

Whenever I see suddenly this remarkable book on my bookshelves, I wonder how the author, writing in later years of his life, was able of combining his practical experience in Africa with his theoretical engagement of Africa. The author narrates sympathetically how African political elites who embraced Western alien institutions and state ideals failed to reconsider the reconfiguration of the nation-state on their continent.

I was a lonely child and when I discovered my uncle’s childhood adventure books at my grandmother’s house I found a world of excitement, adventure, and bravery that thrilled me to the marrow. Although all the active characters in these books were male, I managed to insert my imaginary self into the tales of shipwrecks, daredevil flights, and chases through Amazon jungles as the protagonists bravely and indefatigably fought for survival. Martin Rattler was the first of these books I read and it’s still a breathtaking read, with plenty of moments when your heart is in your mouth and you are almost too scared to read on. I recommend it as a true heart-stopper. 

You may be shocked by some of the racist and sexist attitudes in Martin Rattler. It was written in the colonialist and intolerant England of the times, and I find it heartening that no one… show more.