2024 in books
“It was books that made me feel that perhaps I wasn’t completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them.” (Will Herondale, The Clockwork Prince).
For years, I’ve always steered clear from the Non Fiction aisle. To me, books are portals to a new reality — a means to escape this one. Non Fictions on the other hand, confronts reality — from the perspective of very real people. For that reason, I rarely find myself wandering around the Non Fiction pile, which seems dark and grey in comparison to the glitz and glamour Fiction books provides. That, and I also strongly believe that I didn’t need yet another Buddhist Monk or Humblebragging Billionaires to tell me how to live my life.
2024 however, is the year I would call “The Awakening of Non Fiction”. In many points this year, find myself being stuck in a spiral of negativity that is hard to overcome. Arms flailing, the air thinning, I reached out for anything that might help me pull myself up — Non Fiction books being one of them. I was desperate for wisdom, and I thought — just like how I could emerge in a different world after reading a mindblowing fantasy book, I could also magically emerge as a better person reading the hard-earned wisdom of a Monk who sold his Ferrari. That turned out to be wildly untrue of course — I’m just as foolish as I ever was — but reading the author’s words, seeing their world and experiencing their reality, at least brings me the bravery to confront my own head on.
Here are some of the books that helped me go through the toughest challenges this year:
The Happiness Project — Gretchen Rubin
I found the book during a random stroll alone in a Vietnamese bookstore, feeling a little blue in the rainy weather. The title of the book intrigued me — and I thought: this author must be Type A to a fault, setting happiness as a mission with compulsive to-do-lists (she does sound a little bit like me). While casually flipping through the book, a sentence caught my eye: “‘Is this really it?’ And I found myself answering: ‘Yep, this is it’” It wasn’t glamorous or whatsoever, but it captured perfectly how I often felt this year: in a constant state of discontent, even though I have everything I could have wanted. A relatively stable career, good health, all the books on my TBR list. Yet I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something is missing. How could someone, who never forgets how fortunate they are, still feel discontent regardless?
The answer to that question, no matter how cliche it is, is the fact that happiness comes from within. And aside from that, happiness builds. One of my favorite quotes from the book:
“One of the best ways to make yourself happy is to make other people happy. One of the best ways to make other people happy is to be happy yourself.”
It was this book that reminded me that contrary to popular belief, true happiness is not contingent to a circumstance, but rather a state of being. It is a choice, not an inevitable cosmic force thrust upon us without warning. It is of course easier said than done. I tried — and failed — multiple times throughout this year putting it into practice. But it’s the little choices we make each day that matters — to be happy regardless.
That is why happiness is more of a journey than an end goal. The author also tried and failed many times, often slipping some reflections and being vulnerable in her admission that sometimes she didn’t feel like the project made any difference. This was, in my opinion, the most beautiful part of the book. It reminds us that it is natural to slip up — and that’s okay — as long as we choose to get back up each time.
When Things Don’t Go Your Way — Haemin Sunim
How incredibly ironic that this book wound up on my list — after the condescending remark I just made earlier about Buddhist Monks. In my defense though, I wasn’t drawn to this book because of his Zen wisdom packed in short stanzas that people often reposted in their social medias. It was his essays, particularly the first one where he opens up about the struggles he had dealing with the misguided criticisms from the public about his not-so-modest lifestyle that contrasts those of a typical Monk:
“Life has given me many lemons before. But this time, I was given too many lemons to make into lemonade. I was shocked, overwhelmed, and deeply hurt. My worse nightmare was coming true. I felt betrayed by my monastic brother and deserted by the people who had previously liked my work. Ironically, I, the founder of the School of Broken Hearts, found myself in urgent need of healing.”
It was so simple and so honest in its admission. It broke any misconceptions I might have on spiritual teachers (coming from any religion) that they are all pompous know-it-alls with a manual book on how to live life. It didn’t feel commanding or dictating — instead it feels like a warm hug through its vulnerability. Perhaps this is why I liked this book best compared to the other two he wrote.
Or perhaps, the simpler reason might be: sometimes it just feels great to know that even the best of us — like a super Zen and seemingly perfect Buddhist Monk — slips up too. It reminds us that we’re human.
Crying in H Mart — Michelle Zauner
Usually a fast-reader, it surprised me how long it took to finish this book. I was accustomed to finish a book in one sitting, or for heavier Non Fictions that requires more time and space to process — a week tops. This book however, took me more than a month to finish. Not because it was poorly written or boring (far, far from it), but because I was too chickenshit to pick it up again after crying so badly reading the first chapter. I simply cannot afford to be an emotional wreck.
It reminded me too much of When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi, an autobiography about his cancer battle, published posthumously. The book left a profound impact — and I found his courage deeply inspiring as he continues to live each day even though death is imminent. However, Crying in H Mart somehow shook me more, as it is written from the viewpoint of a spectator. How she must watch the person she loved the most slowly fade away, how she dealt with anger and disappointment, and most of all — regret. How she would have traded anything to be more present and cherish the time they had. The book traumatized me so much that I sent both my parents for a medical check up after they had a coughing fit, even when they insisted it was just a regular cold.
If Non Fictions are confrontations of reality — then this book is a full blown battle — a very uncomfortable one at that. It really brings a perspective on mortality, and it serves as another important reminder of the things that truly matter in life.
The three books are written by people coming from very different backgrounds — an Ivy League Law Graduate, a Korean Monk, and a Vocalist of an Indie Pop Band. Yet, they share some similarities: honesty in their vulnerability, and the bravery to keep moving forward. These three books reoriented the course of my ever-changing mood, and they helped me overcome the storm. May this book review slash unstructured word vomit be a reminder of the valuable lessons that comes with it. Cheers!
