The most recommended books about Baltimore

I had the good fortune to meet Kenny Rogers at the Gaithersburg Book Festival and I was immediately struck by his kindness and gentle spirit.

Raped Black Male: A Memoir is a moving book that offers vivid details of his childhood rape, but the book is about more. Rogers also provides compelling fictional anecdotes and reflections on his internal struggles—from homelessness to what it means to be a black man in America.

Rogers is a powerful human being and his story is another reminder that a person can overcome the painful effects of sexual violence to live a healthy and productive life. 

We all know about the Declaration of Independence and recognize at least a few of the dozens of signatures of the men who signed it. But who knew about the single female name that appears on the document?

Here’s the story of Mary Katharine Goddard, a businesswoman and newspaper publisher, who dared to break the norms of society. When the call went out for a printer to publish the treasonous Declaration, she rose to the task and went so far as to put her name on it! This story offers a fascinating peek into the life of a revolutionary woman.

This book has a few quirky characters that are flat-out hilarious and kept surprising me as I turned the pages.

Bottom line it’s a book about a man who thinks he was made for a clearance sale—where everything nobody wanted to buy ends up. But he’s also the most valuable person, in a way he doesn’t see, in every room he walks into, every person he follows, haunts, and helps.

I liked the book because it was funny as well as a worthwhile reminder that truth and grace are meant to be partnered.  Sometimes grace opens the door for truth and sometimes grace opens the door for truth. This book made me laugh a lot, and pray more for a few quirky people I know and don’t appreciate like I should.

While this book mirrors the template of Darcy Frey’s book and my own, following a high school basketball team through an entire season, the setting—an upper-class, genteel community of white suburbanites in Amherst, Massachusetts—is a world away from that of those stories, and, most importantly, the athletes are female. The Pulitzer Prize-winning author, through her elegant writing, brings a piercing understanding of the obstacles these girls face in the wake of Title IX as they prove their toughness, perseverance, and abilities in a sport traditionally dominated by men. 

I read Ann Tyler for her unrivaled ability to create heartfelt stories illuminated by humor about family in all its broken splendor.

The trepidatious Macon Leary is our accidental tourist, writer of an advice column full of tips for making travel feel like staying home. He’s lost his son; his wife has left him. He’s back living with his two brothers and sister when Edward, his choleric Welsh Corgi, starts biting people. This bit of bad luck pulls him into the orbit of the irritating, opinionated, big-hearted dog trainer, Muriel, and on a journey back to a life worth living for both Macon and his dog.

Read The Accidental Tourist if your family (or certain members thereof) make you crazy. You will feel seen. (It’s also a terrific movie.)

Every English major in the 20th century (maybe even in the 21st!) came to grips with T.S. Eliot. 

People remember J. Alfred Prufrock and his love song. And The Waste Land has just passed its 100th birthday and readers are still scratching their heads over it.

T. S. Eliot was the man—along with several others—who made modern poetry “hard” and complicated, and he was quite a complicated figure himself.

Lyndall Gordon gives us Eliot in all his complexities and shows how he became our age’s Dr. Johnson.

I used to fancy myself as having a green thumb, until I planted my first outdoor garden.

These days I’m back inside with Hilton Carter’s Living Wild. Based in Baltimore, Carter is a director, editor, and fine artist with an encyclopedic knowledge about plants and how to style them. He’s also the dad to 250 plants including a fiddle-leaf named Frank.

In this, his fourth book, Living Wild, he talks about everything that is needed to design a “living home” and walks the reader through rooms he’s styled and his process. Check out his Instagram for a Living Wild playlist. 

Goldstein’s and Weiner’s history of Jews of Baltimore is an unconventional account of this border city. Jews in Baltimore were definitely located in the middle between white Christians on the one hand and Blacks on the other. The book does not flinch from uncovering just what this middle ground meant, how the antisemitism that pervaded Baltimore propelled some Jews toward conservatism (including the support of slavery) and others toward progressivism (including abolition). At the same time, the book explores the rich diversity of Jewish religious life in the city that parallels Jewish participation in building important elements of Baltimore’s economy. I loved learning about a city that was new to me.

Mancini wrote "Moon River," "Days of Wine and Roses," the Pink Panther theme and, for TV, music for Peter Gunn, Newhart, and The Thorn Birds.

He was the first film composer to become a household name in the 1960s and '70s. His cool jazz for Peter Gunn was so popular and influential that every cop and detective for the next 20 years was accompanied by "crime jazz," as it became known.

This is less about Mancini's personal life than about his career (the composer covered that already in his autobiography, Did They Mention the Music?), but I was captivated, particularly with Caps' ability to convey the essence of Mancini's music in descriptive words and phrases.

And it's a thorough chronicle of the work.

In Dragon Keeper, Robin Hobb expands on her Liveship Traders universe. The (deformed) dragons that take the spotlight are less friendly and their uneasy bonds with their caretakers give a whole different experience for the readers. It is a less heroic tale to read and more of a struggle, but one that is beautifully drawn out by Hobb’s amazing skill as a writer. It’s a book as much about self-discovery, as it is about building trust. In my eyes, the slow-burn storyline remained interesting because of the strong cast of characters and my curiosity about how the dragons would evolve, both emotionally and physically. You shouldn’t expect much action, but it provides a marvelous read nonetheless.

A former journalist, Antero Pietila delves into the history of Baltimore’s battles over housing and race since the 1880s. He shows how racism and antisemitism shaped who could live where in Baltimore, eventually consigning working-class Black people to disintegrating neighborhoods in the inner city. Where this book is especially good is on the history of blockbusting in the 1950s and 1960s.

Pietila introduces us to the real estate agents who preyed on Black people desperate to move out of slums and shows us how they panicked white people into selling their houses cheaply to get out before Black people moved in. Pietila draws connections between this history and the more recent example of speculators who lured Baltimore residents into subprime mortgages. Baltimore successfully sued Wells Fargo for discriminatory lending in 2012.

You don’t have to be a lifelong fan of John Waters’ proudly transgressive work in film to appreciate this book. You have to be open to sliding into a wild and funny tale of how the author hitchhiked from Baltimore to San Francisco when he was in his 60s.

You’ll never look at hitchhikers standing by Interstates or resting in rest stops the same way.

Waters’ stories are remarkably imaginative, but when you get to the last third of the book and read his actual descriptions of the hitchhiking adventure, you’ll gain a new appreciation for the way he cares deeply about people who are often shunned in our society. 

Samson’s one and only novel, The Auctioneer is a wonderfully unnerving tale of how a community can find itself completely hollowed out in a matter of a single devil’s bargain. Predating Stephen King’s Needful Things, this book is a literary garotte that slowly closes around the reader’s throat. The paranoia is palpable in these pages, believe me. 

I am from Baltimore, where famous spooky writer Edgar Allan Poe lived and died right outside a bar I used to go to in my twenties (a few centuries before I ever went there!). Our football team is even named after his famous poem, "The Raven," and its mascots are named Edgar, Allan, and Poe. So of course I love this adorable book about a tiny raven who just won’t go to bed! Stucki’s illustrations make a kind of scary animal—a raven—very appealing to little kids. And everyone can relate to a kid not wanting to go to bed! There is a whole series of books by this duo covering different Poe stories, if you want a very literary Halloween.

The premise is simple but ingenious. Winik catalogs the lives and deaths of people she’s known throughout her life, some well, others hardly at all. Each entry is no longer than a page or two, and her writing is stark and unruffled, creating moments of dark humor. She never glorifies the departed, yet her emotion buzzes below the surface. And you immediately wonder how your own page or two might go.

In 1631, the small fishing village of Baltimore in West Cork, Ireland, was attacked by Algerian pirates. About 100 villagers were carried away to a life of slavery. Known as “the Sack of Baltimore,” it was considered the most devastating Islamic invasion in Ireland or England. Yet, greed, politics and intrigue played major roles in the event that had little to do with pirates. Written by a journalist, this book reveals the struggles and dangers faced in by ordinary people in Early Modern times.

In The Wire and Homicide: Life on the Streets, David Simon, also an author of nonfiction books about Baltimore, depicted Baltimore cops as Sisyphean figures trying to fight an endless wave of crime and failing. Baynard Woods and Brandon Soderberg tell a much less positive story about the police. They examine an elite unit called the Gun Trace Task Force which became, under its leader Wayne Jenkins, a criminal syndicate. Using their badges as weapons, these police officers robbed drug dealers of tens of thousands of dollars, planted weapons and evidence, and terrorized Black Baltimore residents.

As media pundits were wringing their hands about whether Baltimore’s people had gone out of control when they rioted after Freddie Gray’s death, we learn that these cops were literally robbing prescription drugs to sell them on the street. Even if you’re suspicious about the role of police in inner-city communities, this book… show more.

The story takes place within a 12-hour time frame, in which our protagonist—fresh out of prison—must navigate cosmic horrors and old habits on his way to the halfway house.

The whole time, we as the reader are given in-depth historical and cultural insight into the city of Baltimore. The classic “first day out” narrative is given an anime-flavored spin with the inclusion of mech battles, mysterious gimp-suited beings, and eldritch gods. 

While on a beach vacation, the forty-year-old mother/protagonist of this book, Delia Grinstead, walks away from her distant husband and three surly children – seemingly on a whim – to try out a new life.

Anne Tyler’s characters are unfailingly quirky, and Delia can be both frustrating and charming, but the book engagingly details the mid-life crisis of a woman eager to learn who she is.

Mary Jane is a kind of a quiet novel. It lulls you into a false security with its lyrical prose and fantastic 1970s historical details about a teenage girl coming of age in Baltimore. She gets a job as a babysitter for a respectable neighborhood doctor – but the doctor is a psychiatrist hired to help a famous musician get sober. This book is funny and tender and sharp all at once. And it reminded me of my childhood.