Books like The Reluctant Fundamentalist — picked by fans

This novel follows four adolescents in the 48 hours preceding September 11, 2001.

The characters are two girls and two boys living in different parts of the United States in very different families. By fully depicting the lives of each character before the world abruptly changed, Baskin shows us how a watershed event changes one’s perspective forever.

My favorite moment comes at the end when a character remembers “that day, a year ago, when nothing else was important to her except fitting in.” Without violence or direct loss to the main characters, Baskin brings home the point that September 11th affected Americans from all across the country.

In the face of tragedy, Baskin shows us how we are all interconnected.

A book rarely brings me to tears. I didn’t know what to expect when I first picked up this one. The main thing I love about this book is that it takes you right into the head of the main character, who happens to be a very precocious nine-year-old boy. Outwardly, the main character is on an adventure to solve a mystery, but inwardly, he’s on a journey to come to terms with his father’s death.

The protagonist–who, on the surface, is nothing like me–made me feel and address things I had not come to terms with in my life. I felt myself struggling along with the character, and then I ultimately began to heal with him, too. It’s a powerful, tragic, yet absolutely hilarious story that allowed me to forget myself for a while before realizing that I was learning about myself the entire time I read it.

This is the sole non-fiction recommendation on the list. However, with its message of hope and optimism, it seems like a fairy tale in these days of partisanship and hatred.

The book details how the small city of Gander in Canada rallied around to provide safe haven to the passengers of 38 airplanes which had been bound for the US on 9/11. The stranded travelers are greeted by a welcoming community, build lifelong friendships, and find solace and peace in a time of grave uncertainty.

The description of the small acts of kindness which positively impacted the lives of strangers and fostered a feeling of worldly brotherhood is heartwarming and uplifting. It also showcases how the world came together for America in its hour of need.

An American Muslim is chosen blindly by a jury to design a memorial to the 9/11 victims, opening it up to vociferous debates and dissensions, much like the Ground Zero Mosque controversy.

The author uses her vast experience as a New York Times journalist to eloquently describe the warps and wefts of the fabric of New York society, and starts tugging at several threads as it all unravels. The players’ tug-of-war is well portrayed in rich texture, while the politicians’ intent on not letting a good crisis go to waste adds satirical color to the expansive tapestry.

As a creator, one feels that art has no religion and has no boundaries. The axiom is severely tested in the face of rabid nationalism, parochial intolerance, and a media free-for-all.

Delmont’s sweeping story about the complex wartime outlooks and experiences of Black Americans necessarily includes the travails and triumphs of combat fighters; the battlefield contributions of Black GIs have been too often dismissed or ignored. 

But here they appear alongside a fascinating, broader cast of war workers battling racism while doing their bit to defeat the Axis across the world’s continents. From the engineers carving roads out of impenetrable Asian jungle or Alaskan tundra to the women of the all-Black 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion who sorted mail in an unheated English warehouse while under bombardment, Delmont’s subjects offer a reminder of the awesome scope of this war.

I am recommending this book because it is a great story of friendship. It also captures the atmosphere in the South after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed.

Joe and John Henry are best friends and do everything together. When the two boys, one black and one white, want to swim in the town pool, they discover that even though a law was passed to allow everyone to swim together in the same pool, there are people in the town who don’t want to follow the law. They want blacks and whites to stay separate.

I love the way Joe stands up for John Henry. At the end, we see a more positive future as Joe and John Henry walk into the General Store together. This book is a great conversation starter. 

I learned about the power of railroad unions and women’s labor auxiliaries from my parents and grandparents.

When I discovered Melinda Chateauvert’s gem of a book, I was thrilled. Chateauvert gives us the proud history of Black women’s railway auxiliaries and tells the dramatic story of how African-American women and men risked their lives and livelihoods to create the most powerful and influential Black-led union in the twentieth century.

The Sleeping Car Porters led the civil rights movement and the fight for a racially-integrated, egalitarian labor movement. There’s no better introduction to how notions of race and sex shaped twentieth-century working-class movements in America. 

This is only a biography in the loosest sense, one of Afro-Cubans from the year slavery was abolished until an ugly racial massacre that claimed thousands of innocent victims. In 1892, José Martí famously declared that “There is no racial hatred because there are no races.” The following year he wrongly predicted that “In Cuba, there will never be a racial war.” Cuba’s independence myth was founded on the idea that there would be no white or black Cubans, only Cubans. Yet in 1912, two Afro-Cuban politicians, Pedro Ivonet and Evaristo Estenoz, both veterans of Cuba’s independence struggle, some of their followers, and thousands of Afro-Cubans in the wrong place at the wrong time, were massacred in a frenzy of racial hatred.

I love this book because it tears apart any idea of objectivity in the law’s treatment of race and citizenship in US history. It argues that law plays a crucial role in creating racial categories. Far from fixed and predetermined, notions of race were constructed by courts throughout US history to determine whether persons were white enough to be included in the polity.

While this book does not specifically address Mexican immigration it is, nevertheless, immensely important to the study of US immigration history because of how it treats the law as a contested space. The law is not an aloof arbitrator in disputes over race and citizenship, but rather a central player in determining the contours of the nationality of a people. The book appears in many bibliographies, and is a foundational text of Critical Race Theory.

This book persuaded me that the “woke” movement (which McWhorter calls “Third Wave antiracism”) is not a political movement but a religion in the fullest sense of the term.

It has articles of faith and a common language, and it goes after heretics with the vengeance of the Spanish Inquisition. Since it’s a religion we can’t defeat it with arguments or reason. It’s also dangerous; as McWhorter writes: “Make no mistake: these people are coming after your kids.”

But he isn’t fatalistic or pessimistic. He gives specific, sensible suggestions for defeating the new religion and for better ways of moving forward on racial equality. Two things make this book unique: McWhorter’s writing is a joy to read, and because he’s Black and politically liberal, he can’t be easily dismissed.