The Year in Books and Films

In lieu of the usual links roundup, I’ll close out the calendar year with a list of books and movies I consumed this past year. The links roundup will return next month.

As for all else, let’s have a Christmas sale! Get half off on new subscriptions from now until the new year.

Films

I don’t watch many films these days, and most of this list I watched in the weeks my family was out of town visiting relatives in Korea.

Apache Rifles. Decent old Western about a cavalryman who doesn’t much care for Indians but winds up trying to prevent greedy settlers from starting a war with them. My main fascination with Audie Murphy films is seeing other actors play tough opposite a guy whose real-life kill count is in the double to triple digits.

Dogs of War. Good. Christopher Walken is intense. I’ve got a fascination with the mercenaries in Africa during this period. My favorite part is actually him scoping out the target country before the action begins — I’ve only spent short time in Africa (Kenya, not whatever country this is a fictional version of), but for some reason it feels very Africa to me.

The Naked Prey. Another one set in Africa, during the colonial period. Some colonists tick off some tribesman and get executed in various inventive ways, with the last turned loose to be hunted like an animal. The whole thing is extremely intense. Very good — so good I’m surprised I’d never heard of it before. A great exercise in visual storytelling, as there’s almost no dialogue I can understand.

Hacksaw Ridge. Very good. Based on the true story of a pacifist Christian who volunteered to serve as a medic in World War II but refused to carry a rifle or kill. Disliked and distrusted for his pacifism, he winds up winning the Medal of Honor for insane feats of lifesaving. They Hollywood up the real story, of course, but from what little I’ve looked into it, the real story is pretty crazy too: They don’t hand out the Medal for walks in the park.

Godzilla Minus One. Took me a year or so to get around to it, but it’s good as everyone says. It’s weird to see a Godzilla movie so focused on the human side, and as a husband and father — watching it while my family was out of town, no less — some of the emotional beats about family got to me. Of course, the monster action is good as well. There’s a couple of nods to Jaws — including one visual reference that’s hard to even describe, since it’s just a shot of a boat at sea. But if you’ve seen Jaws enough it’s like déjà vu. I was also impressed that the film could take something as culturally bound as the shame of a failed kamikaze pilot and make it relatable to someone whose paternal grandfather served in the US Navy during the war.

Master and Commander. Took me a couple decades to get around to it, but it’s exactly as good as everyone says. I now join the multitude lamenting that this didn’t become a successful series. It shows the void in our culture for something that’s simultaneously masculine and mature, adventurous and grounded.

Children’s Books

A tremendous amount of my reading the past few years involves reading children’s books to my kids. I’ve put a few short reviews on Youtube, such as this one on the work of Priscilla Cummings (link corrected 12/26), the little-known gem Nightsong, and a rant about low quality Biblical books.

During the past year, my 5-year-old son has been reading lots from the Geronimo Stilton series and, more recently, the Magic Treehouse series, and when I read to him it’s often one of those. He’s been into Geronimo books since before he learned to read, and I generally like them as well. I guess they’re not trendy anymore, since I see hardly any in the local bookstores, but we got a big collection of them as hand-me-downs and they’re readily available online. At this point I could give you a rundown of Geronimo’s entire circle of family and friends. I don’t like The Magic Treehouse quite as much.

Regarding comics, my son has also been quite into The Marsupalami’s Tail, the Donald Duck collection Christmas at Bear Mountain, and the Scrooge McDuck collection Seven Cities of Gold. And anything to do with monsters (see below).

My 3-year-old daughter has been most fond of the Ladybird Books set of classic fairytales, like Little Red Riding Hood and The Princess and the Pea. Both my kids laugh when the eldest Billy Goat Gruff stands up to the troll: “Oh no you’re not! I’m going to gobble YOU up!” I like the Ladybird classic version of all these, originally published in the 1960s with very appealing art.

(I generally gravitate toward old-fashioned stuff. Ironically, it’s my boomer elders who think it’s crucial the kids be into whatever the latest thing is, even if it’s ugly or dumbed down or full of messaging they openly object to. Boomers are weird like that.)

My daughter is equally fond of the Curious George books — both the original ones by H.A. and Margaret Rey and the collections of modern imitations by various authors. Interesting how the older ones have much more meandering plots, while the newer ones are a bit tighter, if more formulaic. I think the quality of the newer stories gets spottier in the more recent (starting circa 2011) collections.

She also likes the Berenstain Bears, including Sister Bear’s misadventure at the slumber party and trouble making friends with Lizzy Bruin. (“Lizzy Bruin” has become shorthand in our house for someone being bossy.) And we went through one week where I had to read The Berenstain Bears Storytime Treasury for three nights and two naps in a row.

My personal preference is for the original series by Stan and Jan Berenstain. The ones by their son Mike Berenstain aren’t bad, but they lack the same touch. FYI, unlike the mixed Jewish and Episcopalian team of his parents, Presbyterian son Mike also makes bear books that are explicitly Christian, with the bears quoting Bible verses. Could be a plus or a minus, depending on your own beliefs.

In the truck we often listen to Aesop’s Fables for Children on Audiobook. So often that I’m a little sick of it, but the stories do make handy referents for moral lessons. E.g., if daughter is being picky about food I say, “remember the story of the heron.” And of course, “don’t cry wolf” is well-known.

Adult Nonfiction

Preindustrial Societies, by Patricia Crone. It’s a broad overview of commonalities among ancient and medieval civilizations, with attention to problems of production and transport and their implications for social structure and culture. I read this for a discussion with Arnold Kling, which you can view here (link corrected 12/24).

The Nanjung Ilgi: War Diary of Admiral Yi Sun Sin, by Yi Sun Sin. A first-hand account by one of history’s greatest admirals and Korea’s greatest war hero of his fight against a Japanese invasion during the Imjin War. I gave a brief review this post.

BTW, I loathe how Korean is Romanized. If you aren’t familiar, the admiral’s name should be pronounced “E. Soon Shin.” Some genius decided each Hangul letter should correspond to one and only one Roman letter, ignoring that both Korean and English having phonemes created by combinations of letters, that English vowels have multiple sounds, and so on.

A Narrative of the Life of David Crockett, of the State of Tennessee, by David Crockett. Like the Nanjung Ilgi, this is a first-person account that lets you mindmeld with someone from a very different time and place. Also notable that Crocket was barely literate and spent most of his life dirt poor, so the book is also something of a window into the sort of people who tend not to leave us first-person accounts. I may write more on this one later. Long in public domain, you can find the free text via Project Gutenberg, and a free audiobook via Librivox.

Appalachian Valley by Geoge Hicks. An ethnography of the Little Laurel community in the mountains of North Carolina during the 1960s. It drives home how recently and rapidly modernity came to some parts of America. I’ll probably do a post on this one as well.

Basic Economics, by Thomas Sowell. It’s an engaging non-technical overview of many economic subjects. A major strength is he gives empirical examples of, for instance, the effects of price controls. A friend recently remarked that many otherwise educated people have basically a medieval view of how economies work, and it would be good if more of them had at least cursory knowledge of such things.

How to Survive History: How to Outrun a Tyrannosaurus, Escape Pompeii, Get Off the Titantic, and Survive the Rest of History’s Deadliest Catastrophes, by Cody Cassidy. A bit of historical fluff that I listened to on audiobook while doing home improvement tasks over the summer. It was interesting enough, but not much of it stuck in my head. In fact, I forgot about it until making this list.

Get Married: Why Americans Must Defy the Elites, Forge Strong Families, and Save Civilization, by Brad Wilcox. I interview the author here.

How to Think Better About Social Justice: Why Good Sociology Matters by Bradley Campbell. Interview with the author forthcoming.

Adult (?) Fiction

I tend to consume more fiction when I’m stressed, and the more stressed I am, the schlockier it gets. It’s been a somewhat stressful year. Don’t expect anything literary, as my tastes tend toward sci-fi and such.

Manifest Destiny, by Barry Longyear. It’s a collection of novellas including the one they adapted into the 80s film Enemy Mine (starring Lou Gossett Jr. in one of cinema’s most underrated performances). All share the theme of an expanding human race’s conflicts with other species in the galaxy. The first novella, Jaren, is one of those cases where a story has a forgone conclusion that still manages to be a sudden gutpunch. Recommend.

Theft of Fire, by Devon Eriksen [spelling revised for the third time, sorry.] A sci-fi romance and adventure involving a Belter and an anime girl. I reviewed it in this post.

The Cross-Time Crusade series by Robert Kroese. I’d already read the first book, Codex Babylon, the year before, and this year finished the trilogy with Heretic’s Game and Militia Dei. Quite good, and made me re-think demons and the nature of malevolent AI. I generally like Kroese’s book series but think the series’ endings feel a little rushed. Militia Dei is an exception, though, and I think the ending lands just right.

I went on a Chuck Dixon spree, starting with the comic Alphacore #1 with artist Joe Bennett. I reviewed the book in this post.

Among Dixon’s comics, I also read the post-apocalyptic adventure Winterworld and its sequel, Wintersea, both with artist Jorge Zaffino. Very good, and quite likely ripped off by the much inferior 90s movie Waterworld.

Then there was Hunter, Ninja, Bear, with artist Mel Rubi. In post-Tokugawa Japan, an outlawed ninja clan tries to make a new start in some isolated mountains, only to run afoul of a weird subspecies of aggressive pack-hunting bears. To avenge themselves, the survivors recruit American hunters and trappers from the Rocky Mountains. Weird and memorable, good but very grim. It inspired me to start reading more on the culture of the 19^th century mountain men.

Among Dixon’s prose novels, I binged the vigilante justice thriller Levon’s Trade and several of its many sequels. I review the first few books in this post.

I also read Cannibal Gold, the first book in his Bad Times series. Fast-paced and suspenseful but I found the implacable cannon fodder enemies unrealistic and eventually dull. They might as well have been bugs or zombies. I’m a sociologist, dammit, I want some more worldbuilding and realism in my strange hominid society!

Other comics this year include:

Yaira #1 by Jen and Silvia Soska and artist Debora Carita. A solid superhero book with strong characters. “The curse of immortality” has been done before (see Highlander), but they still effectively squeeze pathos out of it.

Goodyng: The Polymath, by Mike Baron and artist Will Conrad. I would describe this as more compelling than it ought to be, given that our protagonist’s arc is a straight line up with minor speedbumps. Something about the pacing though, and the parallel lives of our hero and villain, made it interesting.

Ghost of the Badlands, by Razorfist and artist George Alexopolous. It’s an elemental Western and while I liked the tone, I thought the plot needed something more. The art on the colored deluxe edition is freaking gorgeous.

Monster Island and Return to Monster Island by Graham Nolan (currently only available through his most recent IndieGoGo campaign). I reviewed them in this post. They’re not exactly children’s books — I got them for me! — but my son loves monsters and requests these books frequently. I read them to him so that I can skip over the few mild cusswords and parse the light sexual innuendo. I told him when he’s a little older he can have my copies.

Feel free to leave recommendations for 2025 in the comments.

Thanks for reading!