100 books like Field Theories

Shugri is the last nomad in her family. There are no more.

She fled the wars, the famines, the torture that had become Somalia and, through a treacherous journey became a refugee in hostile places, landing finally in California. Along with her constant confusion with escalators and washing machines, she overcame her fears of torture, and her suspicions, to become a nurse, a wife and a mother, a valuable citizen of her community.

I have met Shugri, and she is now one of the kindest, gentlest people I know. She has a lot to teach all of us about strength of character, and loving.

Hope is sometimes a rare commodity in a land torn by war, famine, and drought for decades.

Blessed help is often even rarer. Dr. Hawa Abdi is that rare person who pours hope into such a desolate environment and saves lives. Dr. Hawa Abdi created a hospital out of nothing, treating all who came to her doorstep, no questions asked. It sits in northern Somalia, with trained nurses and medical supplies brought in from donations.

Dr. Hawa Abdi is a Nobel Peace Prize Nominee for her unrelenting work to help Somalia, her home, bringing hope to many hundreds of her people. Indeed an inspirational story of compassion, and making dreams come true.

Ayaan is a brilliant woman who escapes the brutality of African culture to become a leader in international politics.

When I write of the African custom of female circumcision, I suspect that many doubt me. I am not African. But when Ayaan writes of her own experience, there is no doubting. Her life is real. Her challenges are real. Every hurdle thrown in her path is real.

It is absolutely astonishing that a once insignificant African woman, a woman treated by the worst of Somali customs, that such a woman could rise to the heights that she has. Her brilliance simply cannot be questioned. A huge bonus is that her writing style is truly lyrical.

I attended college in Ripon, Wisconsin, a stunningly beautiful area that dumped inconceivable snow, ice, and cold all winter long.

As someone from California, I was not prepared for it, and I nearly froze that first winter. Green Bay is but a stone's throw away from Ripon, and it is just as bitterly cold. But that is the environment that greeted several immigrant Somali families.

The teenage girls contended not only with limited knowledge of English, but with sandals made for the desert, and cotton clothing designed to protect them from the sun. It was a bitterly cold winter, but they made it.

Not only did they survive that first winter, but they excelled in English, turning their experiences into captivating tales and eloquent poetry. They write of personal experiences too, like wearing a hijab, one young lady writing that some people thought she wore it because she had no… show more.

I read so much poetry in prison—words about survival, and loss, and absence. But one thing I did not read was poetry about people who’d been in prison like me, and wish I had. This poetry collection wasn’t out then, but I think I would have loved it if it were. 

Ultimately, this is a work about trauma, both personal and cultural; it is a deeply human testimony to trauma’s power to erase, shape, and reshape the narratives of our lives.

The self, this book implies, is one such narrative, and the forces of contemporary society act in powerful and often surreptitious ways to shape that story.

Rankine is a complete original in her methods of tackling these mysteries, and a reader leaves this book with a sense of having woken, if only a bit more, to the forces that are living our lives for us.

Even if you don’t want to be a poet, there’s something about playing with poetic form that I think is useful to any writer because it enables you to explore the use of rhythm, metaphor, simile and other ways of honing your consciousness into literary and written form. It demands specificity of description and uniqueness of voice, and Kate Clanchy’s book - she is herself a published poet, writer but also a teacher - gets to the nub of it through examples and exercise, to emerge a more fluent and confident writer, and in whichever form you choose.

An extraordinary gem of a booklet that considers the many ways that four lines of a single poem, composed by an 8th century Chinese Buddhist, have been translated into modern idiom. It is amazing how a mere twenty ideograms, depicting a mountain and forest scene devoid of people, can illuminate the variety and subtlety of consciousness. I recommend the 2016 edition with additional translations.

This is one of the best books I have read about a long walk – in this case, the poet laureate Simon Armitage’s account of the 19 days he spent walking the Pennine Way, beginning at its northern extremity and ending up near his home in West Yorkshire. This is not a precious, solipsistic memoir of the sort favoured by many of our celebrated New Nature Writers, but a wonderfully droll account of what was often a hard slog, where at the end of each day Armitage, who set off without any money, sings for his supper, reading poetry in village halls, pubs, barns, and other venues, and takes pot luck with whatever accommodation he is offered for the night. Walking Home provides a vivid portrait of one of our great landscapes, and the quirks of character and acts of kindness he encounters on the way.

Marilyn Nelson’s poetry is staggeringly good, particularly the way she writes formal poems—sonnets!—in a humble voice, like her sonnet “From an Alabama Farmer.” Nelson’s poem “To the Confederate Dead,” with its epigraph by Allen Tate is a better poem than Robert Lowell’s “For the Union Dead,” with which it is in conversation. Nelson’s ‘wreath’ of sonnets, “A Wreath for Emmett Till,” is simply sublime.