One of the most beautiful books I’ve read. Robert Stone, another one of my favorite writers, said that “[t]here’s only one subject for fiction or poetry or even a joke: how it is. In all the arts, the payoff is always the same: recognition. If it works, you say that’s real, that’s truth, that’s life, that’s the way things are. ‘There it is.’
By this metric, Salter’s Light Years is one of the most striking works of art I’ve encountered. Read it. This book captures how life, time, landscapes, inner lives, people, perceptions, and relationships move and change. Salter may be my new favorite writer.

Here are a few passages, among many, that stood out:

“The present is powerful. Memories fade.”

“In the turning of seasons, they would be green again, these great trees. . . They would again, in addition to their beauty, to the roof they made beneath… show more.

I had never heard of Zygmunt Bauman when I picked up this book, but then I couldn’t put it down. By the time I had finished reading it, I was filled with the deepest appreciation and respect for both the man, and his biographer. Bauman’s life spanned almost a hundred years and his story is also the story of Europe, from 1925-2017.

Izabela Wagner has done monumental work to produce a biography worthy of its subject. Her loving respect for Bauman is tangible and adds greatly to the pleasure of reading the story of this extraordinary man’s life: Polish Jew, refugee, soldier, sociologist; an intellectual who spent his life reflecting on what he saw, and speaking and writing about it with pristine clarity.

Years before Game of Thrones became a household name, Martin was best known for this hauntingly beautiful and deeply disturbing novella. Two telepaths, Robb and Lya, are sent to an alien planet to investigate a disturbing religious movement. The planet is home to a race called the Shkeen, and to a gelatinous parasite called the Greeshka. In middle age the Shkeen allow the Greeshka to infect them, and ten years later they visit a cave where they allow a massive specimen to consume them. Some humans living on the planet have even joined the native religion, and have allowed themselves to be infected and devoured. The administrators are desperate to know why.

Robb and Lya have an unusually close relationship, but she suffers from a sense of isolation that telepathy cannot banish. While they watch some Shkeen being devoured by the Greeshka, she can sense how isolated the Shkeen feel… show more.

Erving Goffman was a Canadian sociologist and the founder of the “dramaturgical” tradition within sociology, where metaphors of the stage and theatre are brought to the analysis of everyday life. This particular book is a collection of his early essays concerning “encounters,” or what happens when people, wittingly or unwittingly, come face-to-face and share information, handle interpersonal incidents, and manage identities. With surgeon-like precision, Goffman engages in “micro-sociology” analyses, nuanced descriptions of the ritual expression games in which interactants engage when they come into each other’s presence. The book is a delight to read partly due to Goffman’s uncanny ability to verbally capture the most subtle of expressions and to sum up relevant dynamics within interpersonal interaction; many of his sentences bear the fine-grade clarity of high-definition TV.

When I read this book, I knew who I was: a behavior scientist.

Knowing this, of course, didn’t bring me fame or fortune, nor did it solve any personal problems. Reading this book, though, was powerful and lasting.

It helped determine the idea I would pursue a life trying to help improve the human condition using behavior science, something I have done now for over 30 years. It made me realize behavior science is inherently empathic, pragmatic, and optimistic.

I didn’t read it understanding all of the references or all the ideas that I would come to study later, but I understood the listening I would do would provide an understanding of a person’s environment and how, maybe, just maybe, small changes in it could make the person’s world better, one behavior at a time.

This is an incredibly intricate book, braiding many strands together to tell the story of people who “might be going to have lived a long, long time from now in Northern California.” One thread tying it all together is Stone Telling, a young girl caught between her mother’s rich tribal life and the militaristic city life of the man who is her father. She tells him, “I am a woman, and make my own choices,” but learns that is not the case in the land of the Condors. Her story illuminates two of the many ways to be human. (I’m re-reading this now.)

This is a profound and disturbing work written after reading his wife’s account of how she, her mother and sister, all of Jewish origin, survived the Nazi/war years in Warsaw (Winter in the Morning by Janina Bauman (1986)). Bauman exposes the popular fallacy that the Holocaust was a singular event, an unfortunate tear in the fabric of civilization, demonstrating with devastating clarity that it was, in fact, a (logical) product of modernism: “Without modern civilization and its most central essential achievements, there would be no Holocaust”.

Can a society as mired in misery and oppression as ours be helped by a few well-intentioned “progressors” from another world? You land in secret, wielding godlike powers (remember Clarke’s Third Law: any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic) and possessing a perfect understanding of sociology and historical dynamics, only to find how hard it is to be a god. What would you do?

As a young girl, most afternoons you could find me up a tree, book in hand. My favorite stories all had a common theme: animals. I felt a stronger connection to the animal world than to my own species. When I first read Julie of the Wolves at the age of 8, I was far too young to understand all the social implications of being a barely pubescent orphaned girl forced into a child marriage, but I resonated with the overwhelming desire to escape the confusion and pressures of human relationships. How I longed to be Julie, living among the wolves! 

I read this short story when I was about 13 or 14 years old, I wish I had understood it then the way I do now.

Sometimes, with the people we love we find fault, and that is what this story is about, how the faults we perceive to be within our loved ones can sometimes diminish their stature in our eyes, and that their falling short of our expectations can sometimes even cause us to be angry with them. It’s another sad aspect of the human condition, and I enjoyed the manner in which the story confronted it.