You know how obsessed we at RtB are with books that are dredged up dripping out of the past, still coming in as hot as the day they were printed. Whether it is the 1968 Kerner Commission Report as prelude to the long hot Pandemic Summer of 2020 or Thomas Piketty using long-ignored tax records of slave societies in indicting present-day inequality regimes, the podcast is built around a simple premise. When old books topple off their shelves, open up, and start speaking–pay attention, pal!
So, you won’t be shocked to know that we actively seek out other ways to amplify those whispers from the stacks. For about four years now, John has been editing a column called B-Side Books at the journal Public Books. If you’re old enough to recall buying those little 45 rpm records (say, “Salad Days” by Minor Threat, in memory yet green) then you know the column is named after the obscure “flip side” that accompanies the song marketed to be a hit.
Over the years, around 50 writers took up the challenge, naming a forgotten book and making the case for, well un-forgetting: Ursula Le Guin was one and you will never guess what Scottish writer she plugged….. Thjis month sees teh publication of an elephant-covered book that collects 40 of these columns. We hope you will consider buying it for yourself or a fanatically book-loving friend–the person who only thinks they’ve read everything…
You can find it at your local bookstore, or Columbia University Press, or Bookshop, (or even Amazon). It has a starred review from Publishers Weekly, a couple of other raves, and some nice blurbs:
The podcast has accordingly devoted June to a series on 4 conversations with authors of those pithy and profound articles on lost great books .Recall This B-Side starts June 3 with Merve Emre (author of that great recent book about the Myers-Brigg test, now an HBO movie) praising an Italian novel about the joy, and the occasional necessity, of shooting your husband.
Later June weeks include conversations with RtB’s own Elizabeth Ferry, and the brilliant American novelist Caleb Crain. Tune in, won’t you?