I just finished reading this book on noise in human judgement, and I think it’ll take a while to process. This book does an excellent job of introducing the concepts of noise (versus bias) and illustrates how and why it causes problems for organizations and individuals.

As in Kahneman’s previous book Thinking Fast and Slow the writing style is very accessible and avoids being too technical in order to get across the concepts to the widest possible audience. Without much academic jargon we can pick up the concepts quickly, and I really like the wealth of real world examples.

The value in this book for me was in the business examples, the refresher on statistical analysis (it has been a while!), and the section discussing “super forecasters” and the differences in the ways that they think that make for more accurate decisions. It was good to hear that the skills they have can be learned by others.

Other topics that I was intrigued by was the concept of the use of formulas and algorithms to eliminate noise in decisions, and the surprising relatively high amount of accuracy in them compared to making our own “intuitive” decisions. I also liked the idea of getting free of our “default way of thinking” and using “outside cases” to consider deeply the decision to be made.

Hopefully I can use some of these concepts in the future as part of work and judgements elsewhere – the authors did a very good job of explaining how even though the reduction of noise is not as glamorous as reducing bias, it is an equally important goal.

The next book I’ll be reading is A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole.

One of the must-read reference books for cooks and foodies is Harold McGee’s On Food and Cooking. He loves the science of food and how things change during cooking to become more delicious and this love shows in his writing style. Since I enjoyed that book so much I picked up his latest book, Nose Dive.

As you might expect from the title, it is all about the aromas that we smell, but rather than limiting it to just the world of food, he goes all the way back to the beginning of the universe and then takes us through the mineral, plant and animal kingdoms to find out just what is creating all those smells we notice every day.

This book clearly took a lot of effort to write and the author enjoys describing the chemical pathways to each volatile substance. As he says in the book, it is better to treat the material as a reference although you could read straight through. I read through the first half completely, and then started picking and choosing the topics (and foods) that I was interested in during the second half.

For the most part the author writes in a very accessible and almost whimsical way – talking about the romance of the forest and volatile esters in the same breath. It was great to see him write about the topic with such enthusiasm, and that tended to help the reader through some of the more technical descriptions.

I really enjoyed this book for the most part, but if I had to point to something I didn’t like, I would say it was the question of what we should do now with the information that he has imparted. Now that I know the chemical name for the aromas of green leaf volatiles (hexenyl acetate) what do I do with that information? How do I use this to improve my cooking or get better at detecting it in the environment around me. Other than saying, “I detect notes of hexenyl acetate…” while sniffing my sauvignon blanc I think there are few chances outside a laboratory to use this knowledge. However at least understanding the chemical pathways that result in these aromas may be helpful in the future.

I’d really recommend this book on the shelf in a winemaker’s office or laboratory – it would have been handy while blending and assessing wines back when I worked in the industry. But for the current me this was an interesting reference book but not exactly casual reading material.

Next I’m reading Noise by Daniel Kahneman to look at how terrible my subjective judgements really are.

Now this was an interesting book to read! Krakauer writes in his usual clear journalistic style about a brutal killing of a young woman and her baby in 1984 by a couple of fundamentalist Mormons. The book not only explains the events leading to the killing and the aftermath, but also follows the thread from the killers’ fundamental religious beliefs all the way back to the start of Mormonism by Joseph Smith in the 1820s.

The journalistic tone of Krakauer’s writing is especially appreciated as he describes the beliefs and history of the Mormon church and the various branches and divisions. I was struck by the history of violence and the degradation of women and racial minorities that were at the root of early Mormonism.

The book describes the story of how Joseph Smith started to get messages from God, digging up mysterious gold plates and using glow in the dark rocks to translate Egyptian hieroglyphics. Most of these stories and messages seemed more than a little self-serving for the young prophet. The stories seemed childish to me reading in 2021, and I felt like it would be hard for rational people (even 200 years ago) to accept this stuff as real – but the author points out that looking at just about any religion’s holy books you’d feel the same way. I wholeheartedly agree – that’s why I tend to avoid all religions.

One key element in this book is the Mormon idea of “plural marriages” – or polygamy. Men are seen as the heads of families (and men alone) and women are collected as belongings (sort of like cattle). Some of the key figures in Mormon history were marrying multiple women, sleeping with their own children, and not exactly setting good moral examples. It is clear from the history outlined in this book that this practice of “plural marriage” was stopped only after great resistance, and there are hints of it still happening in splinter groups of the Mormon Church even today.

So this was an eye-opening book that was helpful to learn about part of American history and culture that I didn’t really know much about. Near the end of the book the author interviews a man who left the Mormon church. He had proven himself quite clever as a young man in the church so the church leadership sent him off to a university to be trained as a teacher. And as he started to learn and think for himself in this place of higher learning he realized that what he had been fed his whole life back at the church didn’t align with the reality of the outside world. This story really reinforced for me the importance of education and critical thinking for young people. Any sort of religion that discourages this would seem to me to be suspect.

The next book is Nose Dive by Harold McGee – a deep analysis of how smells (in food and elsewhere) are created and how we perceive them.

Recently the subject of autism came up in one of my classes and upon some short discussion it became clear to me that I had almost no idea what autism really was, other than a few pop culture references (think Dustin Hoffman in Rainman). I thought the best way to learn more about it would be to hear from someone who suffers from it, and this book provides that opportunity.

Using a special indicator with hiragana letters, the author can communicate more clearly his thoughts and feelings with other people, and in this book he answers questions that frequently come up about autism and why people who suffer from it behave differently in various situations.

I think this book would be perfect for parents that have a child diagnosed with autism as it provides them a reference point to judge what behavior is “normal” and gives lots of advice for caretakers about when to step in and help the person with autism, and when to step back and let them do what they are doing.

Mr. Higashida’s descriptions of what he sees, what he focuses on, how he perceives time and what days are like for him are fascinating. The challenges that people with autism face are epic – but through these challenges the author shows that he enjoys living his “not normal” life, he sees the beauty of things (especially in nature) and just wants other people to understand what’s going on inside the head of someone with autism. The book is well written and translated in a way that makes it easy to understand his gentle nature.

This was a short book – just about two hours to finish, but I learned a lot in those two hours and was glad to read it. I understand there is another book written by the author so I may get to that in the future.

The next book I’m reading is also non-fiction, Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer, about some of the more violent forms of American religion.

Recently I finished reading Slade House by David Mitchell, and while reading the book it reminded me of the author’s fondness for introducing and connecting characters and themes across all his books. Since Slade House was a relatively short read I jumped right into The Bone Clocks next, which was a much longer reading experience. Since they are closely related, I’ll write about them both here.

I’ve read a couple other David Mitchell books: Cloud Atlas, Utopia Avenue, and The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet. Even reading only two of those books will start to bring what seem to be coincidences into focus, and after finishing Utopia Avenue last year and meeting some of the same characters in different ways I became more curious about the interconnected world that the author has been building.

Slade House and The Bone Clocks focus on a more science fiction kind of story, with The Bone Clocks answering a lot of the questions that come up after reading the other books. The way all of these books are written means that if you pick up the connections and want to read more you are welcome to it, but it isn’t necessary to enjoy the book you have in your hands.

Slade House is almost like a ghost story you’d tell around a campfire. I liked the characters and the back story that comes with each one. Even when you are suspecting a trick – and the author all but tells you that one is coming – you are still surprised thanks to some creative revelations. I was almost disappointed it ended as soon as it did.

So while Slade House served as a sort of appetizer course, reading The Bone Clocks became a very satisfying main dish. The book has many of the themes I like in fiction: epic timelines, science fiction elements, clever writing, villains that you can’t help liking and international travel and culture woven thoroughly into the story. This book tells a detailed interconnected story and it was rewarding to reach the end and the very satisfying conclusion.

The author is extremely talented in writing from various character viewpoints. If I didn’t like one character it wouldn’t be long before another comes up. Mitchell’s diversity and depth of knowledge is truly impressive. The writing process and research for books like this must be incredibly time-consuming.

Because it is such a long book there is plenty of space for social commentary, and some of it seemed a little unnecessary for the story, but certainly the breadth of material more than made up for some slower parts. In the end the story to me was about what mortality means – and how even this basic term is open to some interpretation given the right circumstances.

As I said before, this was a very satisfying read, and I’m a little concerned that the next book I read will suffer from being cast in the shadow of The Bone Clocks. Perhaps I’ve found a way around that by choosing a book translated by David Mitchell and his wife K.A. Yoshida – it is The Reason I Jump by Naoki Higashida.

One of the problems of reading translations of foreign books is that there is a risk of not completely getting the message that the author gave to the people that share the author’s native language.

Even more so when you have a little background with the language and culture in question. I sometimes found myself second guessing the translations and wondering if it was truly expressing what the author wanted to say. I can only imagine how difficult a task it would be to translate a book like this that deals with such deep psychological and cultural issues.

In the end this book was an interesting read for me, and an exercise into just how introspective some people can be.

The introspective person in this case is the lawyer Kido-san, who constantly considers topics as deep as “what is identity, and how much control do we have over it?” and also things as simple as whether or not the bartender should use the cocktail shaker with gusto. Kido goes deep on just about every topic, and the book hits many current topics in contemporary Japanese culture almost like the author was crossing these off a list he was given.

I’m not sure whether it is the translation or the original author, but I felt that the dialogue sounded forced and unnatural. The dialogue involving children sounded especially strange. The author’s writing style was like reading an information download – just lots of facts lined up for you to process. Many books that I read tend to show situations to the reader and let you make the deductions and inferences, but this book just provides the information without any sort of finesse.

There are some good points to the book – the mystery at the heart of the book is engaging, and the resolution satisfactory. The character of Kido is likable and slightly mysterious enough to wonder about his background. And the real issue in the book – the meaning of identity and how it may or may not be manipulated is intriguing as well.

So despite some rough areas overall I enjoyed the book. There are a few other books by this author, so I may try to read one in Japanese and see how much of what I disliked was due to the translation and how much was simply the writing style.

Coming up next, Slade House by David Mitchell.

I came to this book for the science behind the cooking – and there is plenty – but what I really liked about this book is the bold and unusual combinations of traditional Indian spices with fresh ingredients from all over the world. The author keeps his background story to a minimum and instead concentrates on breaking down his equation for flavor – and how it influences the dishes he describes.

I’ve tried just a couple of recipes from this book so far (masala shrimp, and also chickpea salad with date and tamarind dressing) but there are a lot more I hope to cook in the future. I’ve got a pantry full of spices and this cookbook really lets you try out some of the spice jars at the back of your shelf.

If there is any weak point for this book it would be the integration of the science and recipes. The beginning of each section explains in general about the concept (brightness, bitterness, etc.) but then just a few short lines connect these concepts with the recipes. I’d like to hear more detail – line by line with explanations of what is happening chemically in each step. It might be a little too technical for people who are reading casually, so I can understand why it was written that way. Still, what is written is enough to understand in the context of the recipes given but not enough to extrapolate into your own creations.

This was a good book to push me to use more spices in different situations, so I’m hoping to cook more of these dishes over the next few months.

Next I’m reading a book recommended by a student – an English translation of A Man by Keiichiro Hirano.

Having greatly enjoyed the movie starring Russell Crowe I thought I’d give the book a try, and so I checked this one out of the library. It is the first book in a series of around 20(!).

This book has an incredible amount of sailing jargon and you really get hit over the head with it a few chapters in, when the ship’s doctor gets a tour from one of the veteran sailors. Staysails, forestays, futtock-shrouds, rigged hanks, topgallant, fo’c’sle – these are just a sampling of the tricky words that come up throughout the book. The author did his research, and it shows.

But where this book really shines is the swashbuckling and naval battles, the relationships between officers, and the exploration of the intersection of leadership, duty, income and friendship. I especially liked the ship doctor’s writings during the adventures – his secret shorthand journal contains his observations and dreams of exploration and science. Great stuff.

The main character, Jack Aubrey is likable, flawed, funny, and prone to running his mouth to his own detriment when suitable lubricated during port calls – not what I expected at all. This isn’t a stuff book but one full of adventures giving the real taste of life at sea during wartime.

I’m not sure if I’ll continue the series – most it is available from the library – but if I have a gap in my reading list these books may fill it with a little adventure. After all, now that I know what a mizen is I should find some way to use that knowledge.

Next up is “The Flavor Equation” by Nik Sharma.

To continue my education on cuisine from “western” China I checked out this book from the library. Xi’an Famous Foods is a restaurant chain in New York City, owned and operated by a family of Chinese immigrants who came to the USA to make a go of it. The book is written by the son of the founder, and together he and his father operate the chain. Not only a collection of recipes from the restaurants and Xi’an but also it contains some memoirs of immigrant life in the United States and how the author ended up working with his father to develop the brand.

As usual I’m here for the food so the writing on the author’s experience growing up and his challenges fitting in were of little interest to me unless they informed directly on his philosophy on food. He wrote about his night clubbing days, fights with belligerent men outside his restaurant, and generally stuff that didn’t seem to fit what (I thought) this book was about.

One of the big moments in this restaurant chain’s history was a surprise visit by Anthony Bourdain, who apparently loved the place ensuring many new customers and success. It felt like the author was trying hard to channel Bourdain’s writing/speaking style with plenty of blunt language and a sort of tough guy attitude. It stood out as odd to me.

Fortunately there are lots of recipes in here and so I think it will help me to try new things when I cook Chinese food. I tried making the biang biang noodle recipe and the noodles came out better than I expected. The sauce was a bit vinegary for me but I’ll make sure it isn’t next time. There are lots of ideas for cumin skewers here too – can’t wait to try some of these in the summer.

I think fans of the restaurant will really like this book – they seem to be the target audience – but for me it’ll be a reference for trying new dishes and a starting idea for sauces and marinades. I hope to go to Xi’an someday to try some of these dishes myself. It is a lot closer than New York.

Next book on my list is “Master and Commander” by Patrick O’Brian.

By coincidence this is the second book in a row that I have read that had some connection to slavery and Africa. The author writes about a slave trying to escape from Georgia. The twist here is that the Underground Railroad is literal – and the book serves as a window into both historical events and also sort of a warped mirror into current racial issues in the United States.

My favorite moment of this book was when the main character, Cora, walks down a hidden staircase to catch her first view of a hidden station of the fictional Underground Railroad. It gave me the same odd heart flutter I get every time I am in a subway and a sudden slight breeze and far away squeal tells you that a train will soon emerge from the dark tunnel at the end of the platform. I really enjoyed every part of this book related to the literal railroad itself – it was an ingenious way to tie the book together.

There are plenty of books and movies on the horrors of slavery and this one also includes the horror, the despicable acts, the deep racism that was seen in even the most common daily situations. By using the journey along the Railroad as a way to survey different places and situations across the American south I think it did a good job of encapsulating a very wide and horrible situation and passing on this to a new generation without being shrill or maudlin.

The characters and locations were well written without being over-descriptive and there were times when a character or two reminded me of a contemporary person, and I wondered how often the author did that on purpose. With a re-read I might be able to find others that I had missed the first time.

On the other hand, the writing was not linear, which is fine with me, but it took a while to get used to the sudden jerky movements back and forth along the timeline. Sometimes I thought I had missed some pages but then later an explanation would come. I’m not sure why the author was trying to cause the sense of disorientation, but it did put me off. I’d have also liked to hear more about the fictional Underground Railroad itself. The writer has created this wonderful fiction and seamlessly hidden it in our real history, but I wanted to explore it more. Being as it is the title of the book, I had expected it to play a bigger part.

So overall I liked the book and it was a timely reminder of a chapter of American history that I don’t really think about much these days while living in another country. I hope that young Americans (of whatever race) have a chance to read this book and consider more about exactly what kind of foundation their nation was built on.

Next is Xi’an Famous Foods by Jason Wang. Spicy noodles and dishes from Western China!

After reading a little about Graham Greene and his life in Paul Theroux’s book Pillars of Hercules I put his name on my list of books to read and by chance found this early book of his available at the library.

Written about a trip to Africa he made as a young man in 1935, it describes his experiences traveling on foot from Freetown, Sierra Leone to Grand Bassa in Liberia. The journey took four weeks, and he was able to satisfy his curiosity about “the untouched Africa”.

As a fan of travel writing this book hit a nice balance for me between hearing about what Greene saw and what he thought about it. I was especially interested to read about the world as it was back then from the point of view of an Englishman. Kuniko and I got a taste of British colonialism when we visited Malaysia a few years ago. While reading this book it seemed like back in the 1930’s most Non-Africans (and even some Africans!) believed colonization was a right and a necessity.

It was also very interesting to consider that for someone to find something completely new and unexplored in 1935 one had to take a long journey by steamer and then spend weeks pushing through the jungles on the western coast of Africa. However just 35 years later Greene would be able to watch men walk on the moon.

As usual for books this old you find some rather shocking ways of looking at things, which always helps me to understand just how far we’ve come. Greene can’t help but mention every cute female African that he meets – the sizes and shape of their breasts are well documented in these pages for our edification. I guess these kinds of things made a big impression on the 31 year old Englishman.

It is not all boobs and jungle – learning about the customs of the tribes that he meets, the amount of money, whisky and quinine that is needed to prevent sickness and boredom, and the threat of rats, mosquitoes and cockroaches – all of it combined to make me admire his courage to undertake a journey like this.

Of course he couldn’t do it without help, and for this he relied on local African laborers – his “boys” were his personal assistants and cooks, and his carriers who lugged heavy burdens up and down mountains and through dangerous jungles so that he could sleep in (relative) comfort upon arriving at the day’s destination. Greene is at least aware of his exploitation of these workers – he knows that he is paying less than a fair rate, but in the end he is a man of limited means and pays what he can afford reasoning that at least the men believe it is fair.

I liked this book, and although I didn’t particularly care for the author himself it was a great chance to get a peek at the distant past and see how people lived a hundred years ago just as the pace of change in the world was really starting to speed up.

Next I’m reading Colton Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad.

I picked up this book with no background knowledge about the author or topic, but it was recommended as a good book on improving critical thinking skills. Later I found quite a few TED talks online by the writer, and learned about the impressive life that the author lived as a doctor in Sweden and overseas as well as a global health expert.

The book starts with a short quiz and these results are enough to really change the way you see the world around you. Once the author explains all the background behind each question the book really comes together.

There are ten points to be aware of – ten blind spots that could affect your thinking and lead you astray while considering an issue. The author illustrates (literally) and explains each point, writing in a style that is very enjoyable to read. Because he is writing in a non-native language the expressions and the way he describes situations are very unique. He seems like a very intense person with a quirky sense of humor, and later when seeing him do TED talks online I could understand where it comes from.

Along with the ten points he also tells stories of his experiences and these make for very good reading. Sometimes he diverges a bit when a topic is more interesting to him but I was able to forgive the short digressions – the book isn’t too long at all.

The book does deliver on its promise and the challenge for me now is to keep these blind spots in mind in the future. I’m good at keeping 2-3 things in my head at once but 10 will be tough. It would be worth going back and skimming this book again after a while to really help the points sink in.

This book was published in 2017 and the author died shortly before publication. I was especially surprised to read the section where he outlined his 5 biggest fears for the world in the future, and the number one threat on his list was a global pandemic. It is amazing to consider that he died just a few years before this fear was actually realized.

Next I’ll be reading A Journey Without Maps by Graham Greene.

This travel book chronicles a trip by bicycle in several parts through Central Asia loosely following Marco Polo’s path towards China. I’m always up for books about long term journeys, and as this journey took nearly a year I was excited to read it.

This was the first time for me to read about a trip by bicycle over such a long distance. Usually I read travel books with people moving by train, foot, cars and buses, even airplanes. Surprisingly traveling by bicycle introduces some factors that had a big impact on my enjoyment of this book.

The first thing I noticed was that traveling by bicycle through foreign lands meant less interaction with local people. Zooming by on a bike limited conversation – whereas the language barrier may not allow for deep and meaningful conversation, at least through some gestures and patience ideas can be exchanged. Not so when you flash by on a fast moving bicycle. I hadn’t thought about it before, but there wasn’t much interaction with local people during the long journey, and so the book was filled with a lot more introspection.

I understand that by riding a bike through the vast empty regions of Central Asia you’ll have a lot of time in your own head to think things through, and although it may be a good way to sort out personal thoughts and feelings, for me it wasn’t so compelling to read.

Much more interesting were the descriptions of the different areas of the countries she passed through, the interactions with her biking partner Mel, and the occasional run-ins with local authorities and rambunctious kids. The author’s writing style was very descriptive, although sometimes a little over-poetic for me.

One thing I like about travel writing is hearing about the local dishes that people cook and eat, and unfortunately most of the meals described in this book are ones that can be carried long distances on a bike. Oatmeal and instant noodles feature prominently here.

So in summary, I loved the journey, the ending of the trip was very satisfying to me, and hearing about the long term challenges of a trip through an area I’ve visited only briefly was definitely worth a read. A little more curiosity from the author might have made a deeper experience for herself and the reader, but I think most of her growth happened internally along the trip, and I certainly respect that. I think that when I write about travel in the future, I should strive for some kind of balance between what I think about my surroundings and also descriptions of external events.

The next book I’m reading is Factfulness, by Hans Rosling.

Near the end of last month my library reservation for Rhythm of War by Brandon Sanderson finally came through. At 1,270 pages it was a biggie, and took a while to finish. It is the fourth book in the series, and it seemed to me to be the longest.

All the characters are here – and there is suitable development to keep things interesting and to satisfy the fans. Everybody moves closer to the big showdown that will happen in the fifth and final book.

I’ve read the first three books, and while the first few started out fairly lean and fast-moving, it seems like the more recent books spend a great deal of time explaining how everything works in this world that Sanderson has created.

For me, I prefer the action, twists and turns, and companionship and discovery that is usually a big part of these novels. For some reason this one focuses a little too much on “the rules” for this world. There are chapters and chapters full of science experiments to discover these rules, and it just felt like the information was put in there to cover logical bases rather than to develop the story.

Another point that stuck out for me was that our heroes (especially Kaladin and Shallan) are on the hero’s journey once again. Each book ends with them reaching some sort of accomplishment and solving their personal problems, however the next book starts with them again having some other personal problem or challenge, and off we go again to climb the mountain. The payoff of reaching the summit is always nice, but we know there’s just going to be a taller mountain to climb next time.

It is not all bad news – I especially enjoyed the mystery of the “deadeyes”, and checking in with Lift and Rysn – two side characters that are my favorites of the series.

I recognize that it must be a colossal amount of work to put these novels together, and to make sure everything is logical and makes sense. For casual readers like me, I think this book just got caught up in catering to the hardcore fans, and lost the brisk pace and fun we usually get in Sanderson’s storytelling style. Hopefully all the pieces are in place for the final book and we’ll reach a satisfying finish.

Next, I’m starting on Lands of Lost Borders by Kate Harris.