99 books like The Pencil

Ainissa Ramirez is a scientist and a storyteller, and from page one of this book, I found myself transfixed by her ability to make complex things comprehensible. From the springs that make clocks work and the carbon filaments that help us see to the electrons in glass that now power computers and smartphones, Ramirez taught me how much matter matters in understanding technological developments of the present moment.

My favorite part of the book is her writing style, as she begins each chapter with an inviting anecdote, like how Abraham Lincoln’s body was carried in a funeral rail car made possible by the steel in train tracks. 

We live in a world of documents caught between new and old, between paper and bits–from library cards and movie tickets to PDFs–and media historian Lisa Gitelman explains why the “document” itself is so critical a category in modern society. Medical facilities, schools, governments, and prisons all require documentation, so this book is particularly useful in thinking about how societies organize around knowledge infrastructures and artifacts.

I marvel at how the book (and all of Gitelman’s work) is able to move so facilely between different historical moments and objects, weaving them together into a tapestry that is more than the sum of its parts. While we might think of “media” as radio, TV, newspapers, or the internet, Gitelman helped me understand that media is so much more.

Do filing cabinets matter anymore? I asked myself this question as I popped open Robertson’s book, quickly to find that these storage cabinets have a tremendous amount to teach us about “information” in the present moment.

Robertson demonstrates how the filing cabinet, through its vertical storage, became a “skyscraper” for the office, and this spatial arrangement not only influenced what information was but how it should be organized.

I love the fantastic archival images in the book, which made a humble and even “boring” technology incredibly relatable and vivid. At the same time, I appreciated Robertson’s ruminations on gender and the file clerk; it’s not just what gets filed, he convinced me, but also who does the filing.

MP3s are a curious thing; they’re of the digital moment, and yet they’re already old-fashioned, given that we’re much more likely to stream than to save.

Jonathan Sterne’s book is one that I come back to over and over again because he impressed upon me the importance of thinking about format when trying to understand media. He explains the MP3’s “promiscuous social life” since the 1990s as it has moved between corporations and individuals, as a commodity sold and also one pirated and shared peer-to-peer.

As a curious student of musical culture, I’m intrigued by the seismic shifts that have occurred in the last decade, and Sterne reminded me that how music moves depends significantly on the form it takes in the first place.

Osgood details the ancient version of a phenomenon we may recognize: a cold-blooded grift by a charismatic, lawless, leader transmuted into terrorism while posing as patriotism.

Detailing the violent conspiracy of L. Sergius Catilina (63 BCE), Osgood’s elegant translation of Sallust’s The War Against Catiline (c. 43 BCE) emphasizes the danger that political violence and intimidation pose to communal welfare and stability. The Romans never found the recipe for combining individual freedom with equality and political harmony. (Rome’s 450-year-old Republic ultimately devolved into civil war and autocracy.)

Sallust’s tale and Rome’s experience caution us against preserving inequities even as we seek to preserve the rule of law.

A team of experts got together to create this wonderful book. It is well illustrated, clearly written throughout, and firmly based on textual and other evidence. That is, the authors typically start with a general statement such as “There were increased opportunities for women to be educated in the Hellenistic world,” and then go on for a few pages to show how this came about by translating and commenting on the relevant texts, and showing the relevant vase paintings. Ancient Greek history tends to be very male-oriented – almost all ancient Greek writing was done by men, for instance – so this book is a much-needed antidote.

The ancient world has always held a fascination for me. It must be in my genes because one of my fondest memories is my father telling me stories about the Greek gods. As a kid, I also found a book in our house that had been handed down through generations within my family entitled The Myths and Legends of Ancient Greece and Rome by E.M. Berens. This book was published in 1892 but Berens is still in print, no doubt in its umpteenth edition.

My book has a leather cover, the spine frayed so that the webbing that binds the folios is exposed. The pages are mottled, yellowing. It is a treasure. Inside, the lives of the fickle, adulterous, benevolent, or malevolent deities are revealed; their bickering and flaws similar to mortals but their ability to bless, curse, and manipulate man’s fate, divine.

As a cancer survivor and bone marrow transplant recipient, I found this book enormously helpful personally as well as professionally.

Drawing on his experience as a theater director producing ancient Greek tragedies for survivors of war, addiction, natural disasters, and other calamities, Doerries brings these ancient plays to life for contemporary audiences. His moving, personal, generous account – part memoir, part philosophical exploration – eloquently exposes the value of Greek tragedy for coping with trauma and tragedy today.

The fact that this trilogy was turned into a stage show is a measure of its fantastic popularity! On the face of it, a set of novels about the machinations of late Republican politics might not hold broad appeal, but it is the genius of Robert Harris to bring the crime and corruption-riddled streets of 1st century BC Rome bursting to life.

Apparently, he spent several years immersing himself in contemporary literature before putting pen to paper, and it really shows. I admired how his research paints vivid background colour without ever stepping upon the toes of the brilliantly drawn characters. I loved his Cicero (and Caesar and Pompey and Antony) and, despite some tough competition, cannot think of any historical figures so authentically portrayed in any other Roman historical fiction.

And yet, for me, it's Cicero's humble secretary, Tiro, who steals the show. I think it was a masterstroke… show more.

Winterer provides the classic discussion of the place of Rome (and then Greece) in early American education and intellectual life. The book is about how American classicists sought to shape a relationship to the classical past that persists to this day, creating a canon of ancient texts as a reaction against and refuge from modernity. The real payoff of this book for me lies in showing how the past is never just the past but a continuing aspect of our own identity-formation.