The best books about the hidden histories of American subcultures

This is a biography of familial resilience, both personal and national. I love this book because it remedies one of modern history's most deafening archival silences by giving enslaved Black women a voice.

Deftly, Tiya Miles paints a portrait of revolutionary generational love using a plain cotton bag. Ashley’s mother, Rose, gave her this sack right before Ashley was sold away from her in 1850s South Carolina. An African-American legacy of strength and creativity is literally embroidered on this sack by subsequent generations, serving as an archive of Black women’s experiences.

After reading this book, visit the artifact itself at the National Museum of African American History and Culture in D.C. to drive home all the feelings.

This book taught me that there are always sources for determined historians to find on any topic. Like most good stories about subcultures, It reveals the influence of the marginalized on the mainstream, even when it’s been hidden from history.

Chauncey explodes the false perception that gay men before the 1960s did not share a common culture but were closeted and isolated from each other. I love his humanizing use of unpublished personal sources like diaries. He also reveals how the pathologizing of homosexuality by medical professionals accidentally supported the creation of vibrant gay communities.

Rarely have I learned so much from such an engaging book. This is my favorite history book of all time.

Thanks to this book, I know that a great biography can also serve as a penetrating lens into an era. Yes, this is a book about Janis Joplin, but I do not value it because I care particularly much about the tragic specifics of her life, as much as I respect her music.

I love this book because it serves as a deep dive into the links between the often tritely-considered 1960s triumvirate: sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. Echols does not lightly throw around the word “counterculture”—that’s a big pet peeve of mine—but takes the reader on a tour of the making of a clear and specific cultural divide that’s still very much with us today.

No mistake, though; it is also an empathetic tale of a sensitive and era-defining musician.

This book shows how fashion can be a powerful political tool and how subcultures can effectively fight back against oppression. From the civil rights movement to anti-apartheid activism in the 1980s, Black women all over the world used elements of “soul style” to physically defend themselves and advocate for equality. Along the way, they forged a universal identity that helped create solidarity and refute ideologies of racial inferiority.

I personally value how Ford’s insight into the expressive power of fashion has cleared a sartorial path for cultural historians working in all areas. I also deeply admire her clear and captivating storytelling chops, which make this book feel perpetually relevant.

I consumed this book like a favorite meal after a fast. Patti Smith writes about the creative and destructive demimonde of the 1960s and 1970s in New York City from an insider’s perspective and with a unique poetic flair. This autographical account of the art and music (and drug) scene surrounding the iconic Chelsea Hotel is both keenly insightful and achingly personal.

Peppered with unavoidable historical depth about gender and sexuality, Just Kids reveals the glory and misery of creative pursuit in a changing urban context. Smith brings the same lyrical passion to the book that she’s bestowed upon her impressive body of musical, visual, and poetic work. Let the words fall over you like a favorite record turned up to ten.