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I fucking love cults. Not joining them, of course. I was raised in one, so I expend an enormous amount of personal energy avoiding anything cult-like in my daily life and spiritual practice. However, it is undoubtedly due to my personal history that I have a morbid fascination with them. I couldn't wait to get my hands on this book.

Blazing Eye Sees All: Love Has Won, False Prophets and the Fever Dream of the American New Age by Leah Sottile is an interesting read. It features the well-publicized cult "Love Has Won" (the subject of an HBO documentary I've seen at least seven times, because it's that wild) as the central thread around which a disparate historical narrative about various American spiritual oddities is woven.

Sottile does a great job pulling common denominators from various influential cults and new age communities, highlighting the conspiratorial, antisemitic, and nationalistic themes that these influential groups all seem to have as part of their ethos. It's particularly interesting in the context of the Q-anon (no fucking relation whatsoever - I was Q online long before those fuckers started up with their nonsense) phenomenon and its impact on the 2016 and 2024 elections, respectively.

Blazing Eye Sees All is a sobering read. If for no other reason than it forces us to accept how easy it is to mislead and manipulate people via constitutionally protected belief systems for nefarious, disturbing, and sometimes fatal-to-democracy ends. Go read it.

“White people wanted to be white just as much as we did. They worked just as hard at it. They failed just as often. They failed more often. But they could pass, so no one objected.”

I love reading about subcultures and sects. It fascinates me to learn when and how divisions between people are created and entrenched within larger societal contexts. So I was excited to read Negroland, which is one woman’s account of growing up among the wealthy, elite Black society that began to form almost immediately after the end of the Civil War.

Raised in Chicago in the 1950s & 60s, Margo Jefferson was the daughter of a pediatrician and a former-social-worker-turned-socialite mother. She grew up being groomed to perform whiteness while constantly being reminded that, no matter how respectable, educated, or wealthy her family was, they would always be ‘other’. At the same time, Jefferson recounts that it was difficult to relate to other Black folks who were not part of the “Negroland” elite – those who lacked either the capacity or the desire to perform whiteness – a position that Jefferson describes as a strange social limbo.

As much as I am fascinated by this topic, however, I found the writing disjointed and the narrative lacking depth. Part memoir, part historical retrospective, it attempts to cover a lot of ground and I think in so doing it cheats itself out of what could have been a powerful personal story.

If nothing else, Jefferson should be applauded for writing about a topic that we don’t hear about very often. The nuances and subcultures that exist amongst Black Americans are often glossed over (for good or ill) by media in pursuit of an easily-digestible racial narrative that doesn’t take into account the great diversity within Black communities.

Anyway, the book was pretty good. I didn’t hate it, but I wanted much more out of it. Jefferson’s prose is too buttoned-up and stiff, even when talking about highly emotional subjects like her own suicidal ideation and bald-faced racism she experienced. I do appreciate, however, her honesty and willingness to share these challenging parts of herself and her upbringing with the world.

I’ve read a lot of books about Islamic history. I’ve also read several versions of the Qur’an with commentary. These tomes tend to be dry and scholarly. This is fine, but I prefer cordial narratives and a sprinkle of humor when reading a book about history for my pleasure. Tamim Ansary’s Destiny Disrupted is ideal in this regard.

Despite its respectable 400+ pages, I blazed through this book. It was so damned interesting, and it goes down easy. The writing is smooth, conversational, and personal. I appreciate that Ansary is an Afghan and identifies as a secular Muslim. He’s offering this narrative from the unique perspective of someone who grew up immersed in Afghan-Muslim culture and now lives in the West, with all its silos and post-enlightenment trappings.

Not only does it paint a complete picture of the political, religious, and social evolution of the Islamic world for the past 1400 years, but it also places this saga next to the changes happening in Western societies, offering a fascinating, comprehensive – sometimes infuriating – 20/20 retrospective of what has occurred across the globe leading up to, and after the advent of, “modernity.”

Rich with details left out of most Western history textbooks and current political commentary, Destiny Disrupted provides us with a series of ‘ah ha!’ moments. Even those of us familiar with Muslim societies and their histories may have significant gaps in our understanding, and this book fills in the blank spaces, explaining not only the interactions between Islam and the West but also among Muslims and their respective sects and cultures.

I’ve spent decades educating people about Islam and Muslims, engaged in interfaith dialogue and political activism. The level of ignorance, particularly in America, about the world’s second-largest religion is breathtaking. It’s also an open door for groups with less-than-savory political agendas to manipulate through fear and anger. This is a book I wish I’d had right after 9/11 when I was visiting churches regularly, responding to questions like, “Why does Islam oppress women?” and “Why do Muslims hate dogs?”

Much of what we see playing out on the world stage today is a direct result of the impacts of colonialism, the 20th-century nation-state project, and the Western world’s uninformed rejection of Islamic culture as being ‘anti-western’ and a threat to the values Westerners hold dear. In some ways, there are some profound conflicts of interest between the two – I would never suggest otherwise. That said, it would benefit us all to determine for ourselves whether we honestly disagree with the spirit of this great religion or whether we’re simply comfortable in our highly propagandized version of it.

This book grabbed me by the lapels, shoved me up against the wall, and held me there for 36 hours until I finished it. Then, it let me go and I fell in a heap on the floor and spend the next day wondering what the fuck just happened. After I finished, I read a bunch of other readers’ reviews online, and I can confidently state that you will either love it or hate it. I LOVED it.

The Odyssey by Lara Williams is not for everyone. However, if you’re a person who enjoys surrealism, moral ambiguity, and feeling disoriented by your fiction, this is the book for you. It reads like an emotionally fraught allegory, a fever dream, splitting the main character’s time between “Land” and “Sea.”

Ingrid is a traumatized Millennial woman suffering from alcoholism and derealization. When she’s at ‘sea’ she works in the high-control environment of an absurdly lavish cruise ship captained by a strange man named Keith who fancies himself some kind of lifestyle guru. She is ambitious, purposeful, and focused, eager to prove herself, convinced of her potential greatness.

Ingrid finds herself accepted into an elite program mentored directly by Keith, which aims to help her improve and fast-track her career for management. During the course of her training, she is asked to participate in strange, cult-like behaviors.

When she visits ‘land,’ however, she spends all of her time falling-down drunk, putting herself in danger, acting out in ways that directly contradict her commitments when at ‘sea.’

As the novel progresses, we learn about Ingrid’s past – the controlling, abusive parenting she endured as a child. Her marriage to an enabler and her incessant attempts at self-destruction. We learn she has left her husband for her job aboard the cruise ship, and eventually, she goes back to the home they shared together, where we see their incredibly dysfunctional dynamic.

I hesitate to add more detail about the plot to this review. I feel it’s important to experience this story page by page in order to appreciate it. Each psychologically deranged detail builds off a previous one, creating a narrative that is incoherent to the mind but speaks clearly to the heart of anyone who has experienced abuse, trauma, addiction, and mental illness.

This is, without a doubt, one of the best books I’ve read this year. If you’re comfortable with being uncomfortable, go get it.

I could not put it down. I’ll be thinking about The Odyssey for a long time.

A couple of months ago, I read Yellowface by R.H. Kuang. While I enjoyed it for all the juicy drama (and gave it four stars), part of my critique was that the characters felt two-dimensional, making the book seem less about people and more about the issues on which the author wanted to opine. So I picked up Warona Jay’s debut, The Grand Scheme of Things, which has a similar theme – a white creative using the work of a person of color to achieve success – expecting similar fare.

Instead, I got an engrossing story with complex characters that explores how racism, sexism, and creative gatekeeping impact the humans who live within these systems. The premise of the book is that a young, black, queer, immigrant woman living in London named Relebogile Naledi Mpho Moruakgomo a/k/a “Eddie” has written a brilliant play and can’t find representation. She meets a wealthy white man named Hugo Lawrence Smith at a coffee shop, and they strike up a friendship based on a shared love of theater. Eddie decides to ask Smith if he’ll submit her work to the theater company that has just rejected her, to test her theory that they are discriminating against her.

The play is acquired, and in the beginning, Eddie is thrilled. She’ll finally get to see her play realized and have the confirmation of how good she is. Hugo is a fairly decent, if not nauseatingly privileged man. He tries to do right by Eddie, but his limitations in this regard are plenty. Things start to unravel once Hugo foolishly starts an affair with the play’s director – another woman of color – and Eddie’s lies begin to catch up to her.

Unlike the cartoonishly horrible people in Yellowface, the characters in The Grand Scheme of Things are far more nuanced. Each has virtues and flaws, and each has to battle with themselves over doing the right thing vs. pursuing their agenda. Nothing about this is tidy. It’s written in parts, alternating between Eddie’s and Hugo’s points of view. Jay did a great job of “becoming” each narrator, immersing the reader in each character’s thoughts, feelings, and conflicts. The other style choice I love is that Jay has written the dual narrative as Eddie and Hugo speaking to one another. This adds an incredible layer of intimacy I wasn’t expecting and enjoyed very much.

I loved this book. Eddie was a compelling main character, and I related to her desire to have her work recognized and receive affirmation of its value. I liked Hugo, too, even though he was an idiot. Mainly because it was fun to watch a white man who – ostensibly wanted to do the right thing – get tripped up on all the ways his privilege keeps him from having to deal with the realities Eddie lives with and by.

Overall, this is one of my favorite books I’ve read so far in 2025. Get on it!

Sister Snake is a fresh, fast-paced novel that is, ironically, rooted in one of China’s Four Great Folktales called The Legend of the White Snake. This reimagining of a centuries-old myth by author Amanda Lee Koe shows that, regardless of when it was conceived, a good story is a good story. By bringing this beloved, antiquated legend to a modern setting and applying a queer + feminist lens, we get the benefit of a timeless tale, rich and meaningful, along with a modern allegory about confronting conformity, breaking with tradition, and taking risks to break with the status quo. Underneath it all is an emotionally challenging statement on the value of relationships and the importance of sisterhood.

The story opens with two snake spirits – one white, and one green – embodied as human beings living in Singapore and New York, respectively. We discover that these two women met as snake spirits in ancient China and pledged sisterhood after the white snake was attacked and the green snake came to her rescue. They eventually decide to live out their immortality as humans, Su and Emerald.

In their human form, they are drastically different people. Su is a perfect, polished wife of a Singaporean politician. She is unfathomably wealthy and has taken on a traditional wifely role to a man who is actively suppressing trans rights in the education system. He cares for Su, but is limited by his own sense of what’s acceptable, including traditional gender roles. Emerald, on the other hand, is a free-spirit working in New York as a sugar baby, constantly broke, outspoken, and unapologetically queer.

When Su reads a news article about a green snake attacking a man in New York, she hops on the first flight to find Emerald and take her back to Singapore. Lee Koe captures the dynamic of their relationship beautifully – the tension of their profound differences at war with their centuries-old loyalty to one another.

Much of the action takes place in Singapore, a place known for its social conservatism and strict laws. Emerald chafes against the stifling culture, preferring to hang out with her brother-in-law’s security detail rather than move about in Su’s high society world. Eventually, the conflict between the sisters’ different interests and goals becomes too much. Their tenuous humanness begins to unravel, and both women devolve into violence, reclaiming their animal selves when they are threatened.

I loved this Sister Snake. It moved quickly and kept my attention. The yin/yang motif of the sisters’ opposing personalities and motivations creates a great low-level tension throughout the novel. The glamour of Singapore and New York’s grittiness are both captured beautifully. Perhaps not unsurprisingly, the green snake – the one who challenges tradition, practices self-love, and enjoys being alive in either form – feels like the hero of this ancient story’s retelling.