100 books like The Socialist Car

This is another book that drew me in with the title. I appreciated how McLellan fought the stereotype, advanced by some of her academic peers, of sexual repressiveness in East Germany. Though public discussions of sexuality were tightly controlled by the state, McLellan deftly shows that East Germany experienced a sexual revolution of its own.

Maybe not a revolution as loud and proud as in the West, challenging gender norms and sexual identities, but divorce rates soared as did birth rates outside marriage, nudism became a state-sanctioned activity, and erotica became increasingly available to the public and found in private collections.

McLellan’s narrative is fascinating, illuminating, and at times humorous, drawing on interviews, magazine publications, heterosexual and queer photography collections, films, and state-sponsored information guides and handbooks.  

Sometimes, I’m drawn to a book for its title, and this title sold me immediately. I was intrigued by the idea that local institutions and people could come together despite, or in spite of, waning faith in East German communism and the flagging legitimacy of the centralized regime. 

I loved the idea that Leipzig’s population and local officials worked to save and renew their city during the last days of the communist regime by building a bowling alley, nearly synonymous with the American working class in the late twentieth century, as a shared public space.

Weaving together the influence of film, television, sport, and punk rock, Horten’s book describes how Western media or, specifically, how the East German population’s desire for Western media and consumer culture and the regime’s efforts to satisfy those desires contributed to the peaceful revolution in 1989.

Despite assumptions that the socialist dictatorship in East Germany was omnipresent, this book, like many others about everyday life under communism, undermines that notion. Horten shows the regime locked in a downward spiral. Faced with economic crises and increasingly unable to afford domestic television and film production, the regime turned to Western imports.

This fed the people’s desire for Western media while increasing that appetite and exposing the regime’s weaknesses in the process.

Given the title I selected for this list, including this book was a bit of a cheat since it addresses Poland through most of the twentieth century. But, in many ways, I wish I had written this book or one like it. 

Stańczyk brilliantly narrates the history of modern Poland through the lens of comic books. Across the political transformations of the Polish state since its re-formation after the First World War, Stańczyk discusses the state’s approach to imported Western comics and translation, the development of a domestic comic book industry, and the post-communist boom in Japanese manga to dissect Poland’s self-image in relation to the Western world, especially the United States, the East, democracy, and communism.

Eric and his herd of wild cars are a newly discovered species of furry cars which roam the prairie and drinking from outcroppings of oil. Its unique, whimsical, and oddball humor inspired me to start thinking of my own ideas for picture books although it took me another ten years or so to make it happen. 

Randall Rothenberg, an advertising industry reporter for The New York Times, applied the Tracy Kidder Method of journalistic immersion in a process or profession to a single advertising campaign from start to finish. He chose wisely, focusing on the then up-and-coming Weiden + Kennedy—an ad agency riding the success of Nike’s “Bo Knows” commercials. His choice of product? Subaru of America, which, at the time, was the cellar-dweller of Japanese imports. Rothenberg effortlessly captures the high-stakes tension of the ad industry while not neglecting aspects of the industry that are more smoke and mirrors than research-grounded truths.

Rothenberg is exceptional at providing windows into advertising history as his story unfolds. Throughout the span of the campaign, he unsparingly documents inspiration, idiocy (W+K assigns a creative director who hates cars), and an intimate look at how advertising works.

Ever wondered if you'd survive in the Mad Max universe? Here's the assurance you can, well maybe if you've loaded die. Choose your own adventure has been a staple literary source of my youth and Ian Livingstone and Steve Jackson are both united champions of the genre. Freeway Fighter is one of their few which lends more to science than fantasy, and is thoroughly invigorating. For mind-bending characterization, here you've got the original immersion you need in self-discovery.

When this book was released, I was immersed in a huge failing project at Wells Fargo, struggling to make sense of it all. This book helped me put the failure in perspective and showed a better way that I embraced for the rest of my career. 

The key insight is that large-scale innovation is not like manufacturing – it is less about planning and control, more about people, rapid learning, and adaptation. Here we learn concepts such as the Chief Engineer, lightweight milestone—and responsibility-based project management, and focusing on engineering skills and vendor partnerships. Shelve the elaborate process frameworks consultants are selling you, focus on the basics Toyota emphasized throughout their glory years. 

Examining automobiles people buy offers, if not a window into their soul, then a peek into their personal values. Ingrassia, a Wall Street Journal automotive reporter, guides us down a freeway of history and consumerism that “begat the middle class, the suburbs, shopping malls, McDonald's, Taco Bell, drive-through banking and other things.” He traces our romance with tires, horsepower, and wood-trimmed interiors through 15 models ranging from the Model T to the Prius. As stories of the Corvette, Jeep, GTO, VW Beetle and VWMicrobus, the unfairly maligned Chevy Corvair, and others roll by, Ingrassia integrates how each successive model forever changed customer desires and the often-cramped minds of auto executives. His cruise-control writing style rewards us with a smooth journey among the cars of our dreams.

If I Built a Car is one of my all-time favorites.

Honestly, I read it to myself just for the fun of it. But every child I read it to loves it as well.

Chris Van Dusen (my all-time favorite illustrator) hits all the marks of a great picture book: wonderfully imaginative, absolutely beautiful retro 50’s style artwork, and his rhyming text has such perfect rhythmic timing.

It’s a joy to read, and each page is so full of hidden wonders. After you read this one, you will definitely want to check out his other “If I Built” books and see what a house and a school could be like with a little, or a lot, of creativity.