55 Books Like The Park and the Town

This classic is not a history book as such, but as a single source, it provides great insight into nineteenth-century park-making and context. It uses the Parisian situation as a pretext to recommend improvements to park provision in other cities, and I love it because the author is so direct and critical, not only with respect to the situation in the French capital but also elsewhere. He is an enlightened observer of fashion and governance.

Terse criticism is provided where required, and which I Iike, and sensible, practical recommendations that are intended to improve the situation in England and often still resonate today. I also like the horticultural detail provided and the sensuous lithographs of plans and views, and I adore the cover of the original edition, which I treasure. 

As an open space, garden, or park ‘open to and maintained by or for the public,’ the notion of the public park is primarily a Western concept that is interpreted and translated variously in different cultures.

I like this book because it links policy in the USA to the design of public parks and provides four typologies in its development from the mid-nineteenth century onwards. While I have not made much use of these typologies since they apply particularly to that American context, it has inspired me to look deeper into how what we do is directed by policies and how our designs reflect politics.

This book reminds me of a spell in Boston, in my first job, and I acquired it then as I was eager to take the opportunity to explore its famous park system. This title was recommended to me as the main source of reference. I was immediately attracted to it because it was well-illustrated and with a direct, clear, and accessible text that explained the progress of the project.

To me, it provided a concise context and background for the park system that became prototypical as ‘the emerald necklace,’ not only in the USA but also internationally. I like the way it also addressed the theoretical development, the design process, down to the very detail of the project, in what remains one of the few such critical monographs of a single landscape concept.

I like the way this book not only traces national and international influences on the development of public parks in Britain but also how they affected design and management. It is all set out in a clear narrative, and at the time of its initial publication, it was a pioneering study.

The contents of this volume have now been incorporated in an even more comprehensive volume ameliorated and edited by Paul Rabbits, which completes the story to the present day. I like it as a standard go-to and as a source of reference for the study of public parks in the UK, which served as such an important source of inspiration elsewhere. 

I loved reading this book before it became tainted by fact checkers. That being said, it remains a fascinating, raw, and gripping read. His use of language as falls deeper and deeper into becoming hooked is similar to being a storm chaser. He can’t help himself chasing the highs, knowing full well the low may be the last one. “I want a drink. I want fifty drinks. I want a bottle of the purest, strongest, most destructive, most poisonous alcohol on Earth. I want fifty bottles of it. I want crack, dirty and yellow and filled with formaldehyde. I want a pile of powder meth, five hundred hits of acid, a garbage bag filled with mushrooms, a tube of glue bigger than a truck, a pool of gas large enough to drown in. I want something anything whatever however as much as I can.”

If there ever were… show more.

Jim Northrup, Fond du lac Ojibwe author, was my writing mentor from the time I met him in 1991 until he passed away in 2015. He would always ask, “What are you writing today?” That was his way of encouraging me to keep writing. His crime novel, Dirty Copper is the story of Luke Warmwater, who returns to the Reservation after serving in Vietnam. Luke becomes a deputy sheriff on the Rez and sees firsthand the war raging below the appearance of peace.

I would listen to Jim talk about his writing and the progress he was making on his story as he wrote it. Listening to him encouraged me to keep going with my writing. Jim’s way of storytelling through the written word is something I have tried to emulate.

In the Summer of 1932, the orphan Odie O’Banion commits a terrible crime and is forced to flee the terrible institution where he is, in a very real sense, a prisoner. He and three of his young companions steel away in the night and begin to search for a new, better way of life.

This book has everything: an epic tale well told, a heroic journey, a paddle down a wild river, poignant adventure, and the growth of the soul. Think The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and The Odyssey.

I loved it from the very first page and could not put this book down.

I still smile when I think of all the Little House on the Prairie books, though this was my favorite. The dramas may be small, but they feel real, and the wealth of small, skillfully woven details brings the characters and their world to life so that we can still relate to them, no matter how different our present-day world may be. 

Not only did I, as the reader, get a great mystery to solve, but the main character is a baker who owns her own shop, The Cookie Jar, so there are a ton of delightful recipes included! I enjoyed the family dynamics in Fluke’s books between Hannah, her two sisters, and her mother.

The romantic dynamic between Hannah and the two love interests was intriguing. It’s also set in Minnesota, where I’m originally from, so I could perfectly picture the setting and feel the cold in winter. 

One of the biggest worries as the Civil War wrapped up was that Confederate troops might disappear into the Appalachian Mountains, where they could conduct guerrilla raids with relative impunity. As a result, the war could have been extended for years, maybe even decades, as the insurgents crept out of their strongholds to conduct hit and run raids. Fortunately, that didn’t happen. Confederate leaders like Robert E. Lee and Pete Longstreet reminded Southerners they lost the war. It was time to get on with their lives.

Most southern veterans accepted the situation. However, a few, like Jesse and Frank James and the Younger brothers, couldn’t accept defeat. So they holed up in the backwoods of Missouri and fought a new kind of war using tactics they’d learned under William Quantrill and Bloody Bill Anderson.

Sound familiar? It’s the same situation that has allowed terrorist groups like ISIS and al-Qaeda to… show more.