Books like The Reign of Truth and Faith — picked by fans

This seventeenth-century offering is where the famous Molyneux Man first appears in the form of a question: If a man born blind and capable of distinguishing a cube from a sphere by touch, was suddenly made to see, would he be able to distinguish the two objects by sight alone? The answer was a resounding “no!” Just as we must learn to read, we must learn to see, gradually building up connections between our sense of touch and our sense of sight. This was a revelation to me when I encountered it as a person going blind and learning to not-see. If humans are not exactly born blank slates, we are certainly unfinished ones, whose environments and education supply us with knowledge and brain power to perceive the world.

This book is about “The Danish universe of meaning,” or, the view of the world as it is has been captured by Danish words and meanings. The work includes deep semantic analysis of cultural constructs such as hygge, roughly, ‘pleasant togetherness’ and tryghed, roughly, ‘sense of security, peace of mind,’ as well as cognitive verbs, emotion adjectives, personhood constructs, and rhetorical keywords. But Levisen’s aim is not only to study Danish—at heart, the book is about cultural semantics at large. The aim is to use Danish as a case study and to provide a new model for comparative research into the diversity and unity of meaning in European languages. To my mind, this book wonderfully succeeds in achieving this aim.

This is a pioneering book which raises some fundamental questions about nouns and the concepts that they embody—not abstract nouns, but concrete nouns like ‘brother’, ‘angel’, ‘bee’, ‘foot,’ and ‘pond’? How can we study and compare such concepts across languages in a truly meaningful way that does not privilege the categories of one language over those in other languages? This collective volume seeks to provide answers to these questions and show how in-depth meaning analysis, anchored in a cross-linguistic and cross-domain perspective, can lead to unexpected insights into the common and particular ways in which speakers of different languages conceptualise, categorise and order the world around them. Many languages are included in the volume, including Arabic, Chinese, French, Hebrew, and the Papuan language Koromu.

Minimal languages are based on words which are clear, accessible and easy-to-translate. This book presents a diverse and fascinating range of studies, illustrating this new approach to meaning and communication. The authors show, how they are putting minimal languages into service; for example, to help language learners understand the invisible culture behind French or Korean ways of speaking; to improve “easy language” materials for people with linguistic and cognitive troubles; to inform better health communication about cancer or COVID-19. One of my favourite chapters shows how a pediatric tool for assessing mother-infant emotional connection was adapted into simply-worded versions in English, Finnish, Chinese, and four other languages.

This clever and funny book explains that there are specific techniques that make good writing sound good, or a pithy phrase stick in the mind, and tells you the long and difficult Greek (or slightly easier Latin) names for all these rules you kind of knew without actually knowing.

I can hardly retain any of the Greek labels, but I do remember the fun little examples, like why Oscar Wilde’s epigrams are so striking (antithesis) and how Shakespeare totally lifted part of Julius Caesar from a historian, but polished it up (alliteration). And whenever you hear a memorable three-part phrase, it was probably longer but everyone forgot the other bits (tricolon). 

This is not one for fans of utilitarian writing, but as Forsyth says, “To write for mere utility is as foolish as to dress for mere utility.”

I was fascinated by Foster’s detective work in literary history–searching for the actual authors of poems, political novels, and proclamations, the authors of which had always been considered “anonymous.” Using a variety of ingenious methods, Foster tracks down the persons behind mysterious documents ranging from the Unabomber’s threats to “The Night Before Christmas.”

I loved Foster’s wry and sometimes caustic sense of humor, especially when he is skewering the “experts” whom he proves to be wrong. This book is, quite simply, great fun for the intellectually curious.

My family is trying to slowly work our way through visiting all 63 US National Parks. So far, my 2.5-year-old has been to 6!

Because we love the National Parks so much, my husband and I love reading this book to our son. It covers 26 different National Parks, as well as many of their features and native animals, in a fun A to Z format. 

I love Bill Bryson’s dry and wry sense of humor, his sharp eye for the preposterous, and his fascination with detail. In his better-known books, it’s travel, but this fits my fascination with language and naming because it tells the story of English.

Well, stories of English, anyway—it’s not a scholarly history (which I’d also enjoy) but more a collection of anecdotes to illustrate some of the quirks of the language. It’s fun and easy reading, and some things piqued my curiosity enough that I dug in further with more authoritative books. 

We all want to use language well. But language pundits sometimes promote grammar rules (e.g. no ‘split infinitives’) that contrast with what we hear in speech all the time.

The source of the discrepancy is traditional grammar books, which originated in the 18th Century, and were based on Latin models. But English has always had a different grammatical structure than Latin, and so some traditional ‘rules’ have never made sense. Instead of relying on such traditional prescriptive grammars, it is much better to refer to modern descriptive grammars, which describes how English is actually used nowadays.

These are based on thousands of examples of real written texts and spoken discourse, and so they can confidently report how English is really used in today’s world. The Cambridge Grammar of English is one of the best examples. 

A builder has a tool belt. In that belt, he has a hammer, a drill, a level, a tape measure, and so on. He needs those tools to build whatever he is going to build. 

A writer has a tool belt tool. In that belt, the writer has words. The writer uses those words to build, too–not houses but stories. And unless you are planning on building a shabby shack, you need to fill that tool belt of yours with as many words as you can find. 

I’ve been writing for 23 years, but I still try to add at least five new words to my tool belt every day. Builders go to Bunnings to find their tools. I go to Rogets.