Fans pick 33 books like The Not-Quite States of America

Some of our state lines were cultural borders. The Colony of Massachusetts was founded by and for Puritans; Maryland was created for Catholics; Pennsylvania for Quakers. That process continued after the Revolution, regardless of state (or later-to-become state) lines. Colin Woodard’s book explores the founding of such cultural regions and reveals how those not-on-the-map lines influence our differing views to this day.

When folks think of the late 1800s West, they think of many things–cowboys, railroads, ranches, gunslingers, and more–but they rarely think about big cities. Bill Cronon’s stunning book forever changes that.

He demonstrates that pretty much no corner of the West could escape the shadow of Chicago–the looming metropolis that ordered so much of Western life. Cows, cowboys, and ranchers all bowed to the Chicago meatpackers. Just about every Western railroad stopped in the city. And farmers across the West planted their fields based on the prices at the Chicago Board of Trade.

Cronon masterfully shows that country and city weren’t polar opposites but two sides of the same coin.

This book is not so much one to read, being more of an atlas. And atlases are expensive. Except this one. It’s free! Published by the U.S. Government in 1899 but still available online, it’s an extraordinary collection of Native American borders that got changed...and changed...and changed. It is history in the raw, from back in that time. More importantly, it is history we all need to know, if we are to know who we are as a nation today.

I found this book to be a fascinating journey into realms of the world below the surface I had never thought about or even known existed. Cave diving is my worst nightmare, so one particular section stands out about the wild, terrifying, and utterly unrelatable passion of cave divers and the perils one faces when stuck very, very underground.

The mixture of purely natural environments and human-created ones, such as underground tunnels and cities, all held my attention as pieces of information I had read very little about in the past, all collected into one unifying theme. Having such a broad but specific topic all in one read was a fun, dynamic journey. 

Lino Olopai is a Carolinian elder in the community and also a friend. In fact, I ran into him this morning (the very day I write this summary) at about 6:30 am while I was jogging on the beach. The beachfront land beneath Lino's simple home has been in his family for generations, and because of that, he has refused to sell despite offers from corporate concerns and developers. Lino is also of a lineage with privileged knowledge of celestial navigation. He could set sail on nothing but a raft and—using the stars, waves, and movement of sea creatures as signposts—navigate hundreds of miles over the vast Pacific ocean to other islands! The Rope of Tradition is an account and knowledge that must be shared and preserved.

Don A. Farrell's name always comes up (as it has now) in any credible discussion of publications about Saipan's, Tinian's, and Rota's history—particularly as it relates to World War II. His meticulously researched books have set a standard unmatched for thoroughness and accuracy. Don flies around the world to personally conduct interviews, visit sites, and scour archives and collections to produce visually stunning and informationally satisfying work replete with previously-unseen photographs, declassified documents, and accounts that even the history books often get wrong! Here on Saipan, you'll find Saipan: A Brief History at the American Memorial Park Visitor Center, our local library and bookstore, but also at gift shops, car rental companies, and even the checkout counter of local supermarkets! You won't be disappointed!

Marie S.C. Castro knows. Here on Saipan, we tell a different story about aviator Amelia Earhart's and Fred Noonan's fate. The famed pilot and navigator did not "disappear." They crashed on Mili atoll in the Marshall Islands; were detained by the Japanese military;  brought to Saipan where Fred was beheaded and Amelia died of dysentery. Without a Penny in my Pocket includes rare photos and shares Marie's account of growing up and attending school during the Japanese occupation, moving stateside, and ultimately returning home. It helps us understand the lifestyle of the local people at the time of Amelia's presence. (Castro, founder of Saipan's Amelia Earhart Memorial Association, has a book with Earhart researcher, Mike Campbell, to further the mission of keeping the legacy alive. Start the adventure with Marie's story!)

It is the dream of many indigenous residents of Saipan, Tinian, and Rota to visit—at least once during a lifetime—the remote "northern islands" of the 400-mile archipelago that comprises the Mariana Islands. High school student Dennis Chan fulfilled that dream as his prize for winning an essay contest. The contest—and the winner's participation in a week-long, first-of-its-kind ocean expedition—was timed to coincide with the Bush administration's designation of a 95,000sqare mile swath of the Western Pacific Ocean as an official Marine National Monument. Dennis, with the help of activist and blogger Angelo Villagomez, chronicled and published Our Northern Islands, an account (with photos) of the team's once-in-a-lifetime adventure!

Jana Lipman examines the Vietnamese refugee camps in Guam, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Hong Kong in the decades after the fall of Saigon. She asks us to consider how camps function as liminal social and legal spaces where refugees forfeit rights with the hope of eventually securing membership (and rights) in a resettlement society. It is in the camps that refugees try to prove their ‘worthiness’ for admission to society, and where they navigate a cumbersome—and often hostile—bureaucracy that ignores their humanity, often with dire consequences. 

The book examines the implementation of refugee policy at the local level by local actors, as well as the role of Vietnamese activism—in the camps and in the diaspora—in asserting refugee rights.

Esmeralda Santiago portrays the 19th-century journey of Ana Cubillas from imperial Spain to colonial outpost Puerto Rico. Cubillas has a complicated relationship with her family, slavery, and Puerto Rico, and the reader never knows quite what to think of her. Like Cubillas, Puerto Rico itself is complicated. I lived in San Juan for two years and grew to love the island, but I never felt like I quite understood it – any outsider who says they do is probably lying.