Books like Waiting for the Barbarians — picked by fans

Written forty years ago at the dawn of the personal computer age and well before the internet and the rise of social media, Postman’s book is a gripping read, a 20th-century warning for 21st-century readers about the dark consequences of the replacement of print media by visual forms of entertainment masquerading as information, a transformation that has had a devastating impact upon the ability of a citizenry to make informed decisions. 

In his relatively brief account, Postman described the way in which visual media overshadowed print in the 20th century. In that process, the “information” transmitted on a flickering screen became shaped by the need for brevity and, above all, the values of entertainment designed to “sell” products that cater to the emotional needs of the paying audience. While the printed words could be read and re-read for a more complex understanding of deeper meanings, electronic images were fleeting and,… show more.

At a time when it is easy to assume that things can only get worse, my late friend John Lewis’s memoir is a reminder that earlier generations—particularly Black Americans—have continued to struggle for a more just and humane society. 

When I first met John Lewis at a civil rights conference at Highlander Folk School in 1961, he seemed overshadowed by more charismatic figures present like Julian Bond, Diane Nash, and James Bevel. But, in a memoir that is modest and remarkably candid, we can see the extraordinary strength and staying power of his deep philosophical commitment to non-violence and to what he would call “good trouble,” even if that good trouble resulted in several beatings at the hands of mobs and white authorities. 

Much has been written about the civil rights movement, but in his book, John gave us an intimate view of the struggles. Beneath the mythology surrounding the… show more.

This book really brought home to me the transnational side of rising global authoritarianism.

We know a lot about democratic decline within countries and the changing global order. This book differs as it powerfully documents the transnational links between dictators across the world, working together like never before. 

This is even if they are not particularly close or share ideology. Dictators are simply collaborating to enrich themselves by propagating authoritarianism globally and undermining democracy.

It’s also very engagingly written with some powerful vignettes.

The roots of our national divisions run through our 250-year history and Nick Bryant, a talented British journalist and Ph.D.  historian in American history has brought together the strands of that story in a readable narrative: demagoguery, the “constant curse” of slavery and its aftermath, the embrace of violence and a gun culture unmatched among democracies, the divisive nature of religion, cultural conflicts over change attitudes toward sexuality, the ongoing tension over immigration and America’s sense of “exceptionalism”...It is a painful story and not a book for  Americans likely to resent an “outsider’s” critical view of America.

Bryant, who spent years in the United States as a BBC correspondent is frank to admit that he has “said goodbye to the American I had fallen in love with as a teenager,” but “my love affair with the United States has not ended.”

I couldn’t make a list like this without including Graham Greene. His introspective art of writing has shaped my own approach to fiction. This book is a brilliant portrait of Scobie, a security officer in West Africa during World War II.

A deeply religious Catholic with simple tastes, Scobie struggles with guilt toward all in his melancholy orbit: his wife Louise, whose hopes to climb the social ladder have been dashed by Scobie’s simplicity and integrity; his mistress Helen; his faithful servant Ali.

The book ends beautifully, with Scobie making the only choice consistent with his quirky beliefs and sensitivities. I could easily have added his The Power and the Glory, but I didn’t want to make this a Graham Greene list.

The novel is a portrait of the harsh realities of post-colonial life and a reflection on the complexities of African culture and history. I find that I can relate to the book's exploration of identity and the struggle between tradition and modernity.

Okri's protagonist, Azaro, navigates the physical and spiritual realms in a way that lines up with the Nigerian superstitions which shaped my life from a young age. His journey is believable and familiar in a unique blend of the fantastical with the real.

The lyrical prose and vivid imagery take me home, back to a world where the supernatural is a natural part of life and a cornerstone of the spirituality inherent in Nigerian culture.

This extraordinary book forces anyone who attempts at studying African politics during the post-colonial period (‘on the postcolony’ in Achile Mbembe’s term) as well as in the late Cold War to (re)consider the role of Africans in the shaping of post-colonial Africa. The author uses various examples to nuance the dilemma of the African state-building process. The notion of ‘the politics of the belly’ derived from a Cameroonian saying, not a Bayart’s creation, as many in the West would think of it.

This book fills a gap that I didn’t know was missing until I read it.

Not much has been written documenting the history of Black Africans in 20th/21st Century London, but Jimi Famurewa covers the migration, the cultural contributions, the food, the music, the community…ah, it really covers a lot.

Non-fiction is never really my go-to but is immensely readable and the research is thorough and sharp. It filled in some the gaps in the word-of-mouth anecdotes you hear from the older generation, as well as introduced me to corners of our history that I wasn’t as familiar with.

This is a breathtaking book. The image of the “Dark Continent” seems so ingrained in our understanding of how Africa was perceived in the nineteenth century that it’s hard to overturn it. Jones does just that, showing how Pan-Africanists, naturalists, and filmmakers reimagined Africa as a site of regeneration for a variety of different ideas. But it’s about more than that – it’s a serious challenge to confront what you think you know about Africa today too.

Few other books romanticize Africa the way this book does. A great deal has changed since it was published in 1937, but Danish author Karen Blixen’s whimsical account of her eighteen years in Africa remains enchanting.

I am particularly partial to the theme of determined, independent women living largely alone in remote places, enjoying the wonders of the natural world, and being adventurous and resourceful. I grew up on a farm in Africa and relate to the associated joys and challenges.