A collection of the year's best essays, selected by Pulitzer Prize-winning critic Wesley Morris and series editor Kim Dana Kupperman.
Wesley Morris, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and acclaimed New York Times critic, selects twenty essays out of thousands that represent the best examples of the form published the previous year.
“Imparting some piece of yourself -- any part -- is arduous and warrants some kind of commendation,” writes guest editor Wesley Morris in his introduction. Both personal and personable, the essayists in this volume use their own vulnerability to guide readers on excursions that unfold on uncomfortable edges. From contemplating the nuances of memory to exploring the complexities of family, romance, gender identity, illness, and death, Morris’s selection of essays presents a roundup of the thinkers who masterfully grapple with the issues of our time.
What a solid collection of twenty-two essays (not all were outstanding but a fair number were good.). These types of things are often a mixed bag but this group was pretty solid throughout.
My two favorites were “Jenisha From Kentucky” by Jenisha Watts where she recounts her difficult childhood in Louisville and “The Ones We Sent Away” from Jennifer Senior who tells of her mother’s sister, Adele, who was removed from their home before age two to live the rest of her life in state care.
Oh, and from the fun “It’s Hard Out Here for a Memorist,” “‘Here…read THIS.” I looked at the title. It was PIMP: THE STORY OF MY LIFE, by Iceberg Slim. I returned it to him a few days later. ‘What did you think?’’ he asked. ‘I think,’ I said, ‘I should not have read that.’”
As with most collections not all will feel like the best, even though this series purports to be as such. I found only a small few that I did not care for as much as the others. Overall, I am happy to have read the entirety, even the ones I didn’t care for.
In general, I would say this year collection of essays are autobiographical in nature. Not all, but mostly, or close to, such as mostly about a family member. There are exceptions, of course. A few, maybe three, essays played with the format, which I did not particularly enjoy, such as the essay: Because: An Etiology (by Richard Prins). Every sentence started with the word because, which was repetitive. Yet, the story itself was moving. The essay did work due to the format, yet not my favorite.
The Ones We Sent Away (by Jennifer Senior), Woodstove (by Brock Clarke), and The Anatomy of Panic (by Michael W. Clune) are among my favorite essays. Not for the subject manner per se, but the way they were written. They drew me in. It felt like the author was in the room talking to me, sometimes anyway. And yet, there are others I could also say were my favorite.
There are many annual “best of” series, but this is the first I read via audiobook. That may have been one reason why I finished this entirely. There were several narrators used, which helped keep the essays differentiated.
I have partially read several other “Best American” annual collections, but only completed in full several of the “Best Technology Writing.” These are from a different publisher, and short lived, although a very similar format. (do wish they would be published again.)
From what I’ve seen, these series books are quite long, with the page numbers being deceptive for the length. The print typically being small with little room between sentences so the text is jammed packed, with one page being more like two or three of a typical book. Yet there is something of these series that appeals to me. If I had infinite time I would read more of the backlog of these annual collections, particularly the Essays, Science & Nature Writing, oh and Travel writing.
Book rating: 4.25 (rounded up because I like the series)
"The Best American Essays 2024" is a thought-provoking and engaging collection of essays that showcases the diverse talents and perspectives of some of the most compelling writers in the United States. Guest editor Wesley Morris, a Pulitzer Prize-winning critic, has curated an exceptional selection of essays that range from deeply personal narratives to insightful cultural commentary.
The anthology features a wide range of voices, covering topics such as race, identity, politics, and the environment. Each essay is a testament to the power of the written word to evoke empathy, challenge assumptions, and inspire reflection. The contributors offer unique insights and fresh perspectives, inviting readers to engage with the complex issues that shape our world today.
Morris's selections not only entertain and enlighten but also serve as a reminder of the importance of critical thinking and empathy in our increasingly polarized society. The collection encourages readers to expand their understanding of the world and the human experience, and it offers a hopeful vision for the future of American literature.
Overall, "The Best American Essays 2024" is an outstanding collection that celebrates the art of the essay and the diverse voices that contribute to the rich tapestry of American life. This anthology is a must-read for anyone interested in thoughtful, compelling writing and the issues that shape our world.
** Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing a digital copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. **
I appreciate the diverse range of voices, each sharing their lived experiences with candor and creativity. Introducing Sallie Tisdale’s essay on memoirists as inherently unreliable narrators early in the series set the tone for the entire collection. Tisdale’s perspective encouraged me to approach each piece with a deeper awareness, knowing that the truths presented were as much about interpretation, as they were about fact, and the flexibility of what “fact” might mean to each and every one of us.
My personal stand outs: * Mere Belief by Sallie Tisdale (see above) * The Lives of Bryan by Jennifer Sinor on grief, suicide, and the many lives one lives before they can no longer keep going * Proxemics by Jonathan Gleason on the realities of incarceration, and intergenerational trauma * The Anatomy of Panic by Michael W. Clune offered an unparalleled depiction of anxiety—both original and entirely accurate * The Ones We Sent Away by Jennifer Senior provided a look at the history of eugenics and the treatment of people with disabilities across North America * Love is a Washing Line by Remy Ngamije (my favourite, favourite) on marriage and boxing. “Your marriage has a line, too. It stretches from “I do” until death do us part. Except it is not tight. It is more like a washing line, weighed down by laundry, buoyed down by time. It can carry a lot. Until it cannot.” * A Rewilding by Christienne L. Hinz on our ecosystem, and its inherent implications of race; the traumatized people living in a traumatized ecosystem.
I would have given this a 3.5 if possible. Thought there were a lot of strong essays! But also thought there were some that weren’t, and for a book like this that wears on you a bit.
A lot of writing about things without making me feel a thing—except for a few standout exceptions:
1. Jennifer Senior: "The Ones We Sent Away" 2. Christine Hinz: "A Rewilding" 3. Nicole Graev Lipson: "As They Like it: Learning to Follow My Child's Lead" 4. Michael W. Clune: "The Anatomy of Panic" 5. Jerald Walker: "It's Hard Out Here for a Memoirist" 6. Austin Woerner: "As Big as You Make It Out to Be"
Notable Mentions (7/8): Jenisha Watts' "Jenisha from Kentucky" was a strong start to the collection, and I hated it at first, but Richard Prins "Because: An Etiology" stayed with me and stayed with me and stayed with me.
I liked a decent amount of these, more than I was expecting. of course there were a few I absolutely despised too, but you have to get through the bad ones to get to the good ones. This might be one of my new favorite genres, personal essays are just so interesting and different and there's so much liberty you can take with their format. Maybe I'll get 2025's
Solid collection. My favorites were: An Upset Place by James Whorton Jr As Big as You Make It Out to Be by Austin Woerner Woodstove by Brock Clarke Jenisha from Kentucky by Jenisha Watts
I have a growing appreciation for reads that force me to slowly work my way through and savor them. This collection truly opened my eyes to the different shapes essays can take and the flexibility it gives writers.
I enjoyed the majority of the pieces, highlights that I continue to think about days or weeks later include: Jenisha from Kentucky Mere Belief The Ones We Sent Away As They Like It: Learning to Follow My Child’s Lead Memory’s Cellar As Big as You Make It Out to Be A Rewilding
This book should probably be on the top 10 list of books that have changed me in some way. I've never read an anthology of essays and this has cracked open my world; I can see a new direction in which to write. I'm taking a creative nonfiction workshop class, and on the syllabus this book was listed as required reading. The professor never assigned us to read it. Since I rented it for like $4, I figured I should give it a try. I'm so happy I did. Oh joyous day!
It's hard to review this book, as with any collection of different authors, due to the varying quality of different essays. Some essays are spectacular (Jenisha from Kentucky, It's Hard out Here For A Memorist, The Anatomy of Panic), and others are not (Reframing Vermeer, A Rewilding). Treat this as more of a time capsule of last year's major essays instead of a true collection of great essays and I feel that you may enjoy the collection more as a result.
Favorites were “Jenisha from Kentucky,” “Proxemics,” “Woodstove,” “The Ones We Sent Away,” If Not Now, Later,” “Trapdoor,” “Anita Baker Introduced Us and Patrice Rushen Did the Rest,” and “A Rewilding.” Only a few I felt meh about.
Disclaimer: I did not read this book in its entirety. My review and rating is based on the essays I read for my nonfiction class.
Just some quick thoughts on the essays I read. Overall, solid collection with lots to learn and steal for myself. Most of all, it made me feel less like a bargain-bin creative nonfiction writer.
"Jenisha from Kentucky": Such a poignant and gut-wrenching essay. Jenisha Wyatts writes with a great compassion and even-handedness when talking about her family, particularly her mother, and her relationship and reflections on them.
"A Rewilding": One of my personal favorites in this collection. I love how Christienne Hinz connects anti-Black racism to the environment and how she connects the factual with the personal. She makes incredibly compelling points about the hidden harms of the sterility of white neighborhoods and has a powerful message of self-acceptance at the end.
"It's Hard Out Here for a Memoirist": This one gets points for being unorthodox. Also love the self-awareness of the medium of the memoir and the self-parody.
"The Ones We Sent Away": Yet another heart-breaker, this one talking about ableism and the institutionalization of disabled and neurodivergent people. Also horrifying to think of how recent and a fresh wound this all is. Jennifer Senior does her research thoroughly and discusses Adele's story and others like her respectfully.
"An Upset Place": This one was alright. There's some interesting discussion of the intersection between family lineage and race. I did feel that it was hard to follow at times and tried to take on too much, making the connections feel blurry.
"As Big as You Make It Out to Be": I found the professor-student relationship between Su Wei and Austin Woerner to be well-told, with some interesting reflection. I'll admit that I was mildly weirded out by Su Wei telling Woerner that he had to fall in love (in a romantic sense), and I don't love the implication in the essay that romantic love inherently makes one's life more complete. Questionable shipping antics aside, Woerner also gives us as readers a good feel for his professor's novel, expertly using it as an avenue to discuss Chinese history and Su Wei's experience in China, and what the experience of translating it from Chinese to English was like.
"The Anatomy of Panic": Easily the most relatable essay for me personally. A little too relatable. This is another one of my favorite essays both because of the topic and the descriptive and evocative language. Michael Clune effortlessly blends the personal, the scientific, and a dash of history and literature in a powerful meditation of the meaning and roots of panic.
"If/Then": Interesting braided essay about catastrophic thinking and disasters. The shift between Courtney Miller Santo and her family visiting a dude ranch in the present day (or close to it) and the past with various disasters like the eruption of Mt. St Helens feels natural and shows the ubiquity of disaster in different times and places.
"Because: An Etiology": No. No. No. I get what Richard Prins was going for with the repetition of because at the start of each sentence, but you know, sometimes you shouldn't sacrifice coherency for artistry, and this is one of those times. This essay gave me flashbacks to my poetry writing class with the abuse of anaphora (also there's way better writing techniques out there that are not basic bitch repetition going on for ten pages), and for that egregious sin, this collection loses one star. Also, paragraph breaks exist for a reason.
"Love is a Washing Line": Okay, I'm mixed on this one. I like the techniques: I like the diary format, I like the second person, and I like the imagery. I'm just not so sure about the messaging. On one hand, I do appreciate that Rémy Ngamije shows the confusing and even ugly realities of marriage. However, there's this attitude of "Oh, it's all worth it in the end to be romantically paired up with someone you don't get along with because real marriage and love requires commitment and hard work in order to work" and there's also this vibe of marriage as the only true way to be an adult, in its confusion and wisdom. I really don't appreciate the pigeonholing of singles and divorcees as immature and irrational/overly emotional, especially from a second person point of view since it assumes the reader shares the specific view described. Honestly, I could write a whole essay on the views of romance and marriage here, but I digress. Overall, it's well-written on a technical level but questionable on a content/messaging level.
I’m a regular with this series having read just about every volume straight through for most of the last 15 years. I enjoy it for its own sake, and I assign it as the text in my creative nonfiction writing class.
On top of that, I am friends with the new series editor, Kim Dana Kupperman, and I’m thrilled that the series is in such good hands now that Robert Atwan – someone else I know a bit (and like very much) – has passed it on.
So, it bums me out to say this is my least favorite edition in years. I can’t quite fault Wesley Morris; in the end, it’s a matter of taste and preference. As he tells us in his introduction, it took a while for him to think of himself as an essayist rather than a critic. He’s generally taken here with either the truly experimental or the long-form essay.
Both of those understandable biases work against my own. I prefer – as a reader and a teacher – essays that orient themselves clearly (and then, if they can, go to the weird and wild) and essays that are tight. That is, I want short and pointed, but Morris seems drawn more toward ones that linger on interiority – with essays that I feel are talking to themselves rather to us readers – and he’s fine with some that go on surprisingly long.
To put some stats on it, many of my favorite editions clock in around 260 pages. Some are in the 340 range. But this one is 380.
I want to be clear that’s not on Kim. This process works by empowering the guest editor. And part of the fun of reading this annually is to get a sense of the different aesthetics of those different editors. I prefer the ‘true’ essayists, the ones like Lauren Slater who come from the world of the personal essay rather than the world of the critical or topical essay.
So, that’s prologue. As always, though, there are some terrific pieces here, and it’s clear that Kim has sustained Bob’s work of making this volume a kind of Grammy Awards of the modern essay, a way to get a sense of where the genre is moving each year.
One of my clear favorites is Sallie Tisdale’s “Mere Belief.” She talks there about the nature of memory and how it beguiles us into making narratives that might re-color what we know actually happened. It’s a thoughtful exploration of a process many of us know, and it’s a good lesson for students just beginning to think about this work.
Jennifer Sinor’s “The Lives of Bryan” stands out as well for the way it balances the many times she almost lost – and then finally did – her brother. It’s one of those necessary essays that confronts death, not undermining its power and finality, but making a song of it – letting us see what remains afterwards.
Nicole Graev Lipson’s “As They Like It: Learning to Follow My Child’s Lead” adds to the growing body of literature about understanding the larger trans experience. I love this for the way it talks of watching her child grow and learning to let them reveal themselves.
James Wharton’s “An Upset Place” does a nice job of exploring his family history in Arkansas – a history that uncomfortably turns out to include slaveholding. He doesn’t have an answer to the guilty verdict of that history, but, then, who does? Instead, he lays out what he has learned in a clear and thoughtful fashion.
And then two near the end vie for favorites alongside the Tisdale.
Remy Ngamjie’s “Love is a Washing Line” is a fearless piece about how he learns to deal with the quotidian of his marriage – not the failure, just the reality of romance giving way to the humdrum of eating salads! – through the boxing lessons that he and his wife undertake.
And Christienne Hinz’s “A Rewilding” opens with the great line, “I think I might be a weed” and proceeds to describe the way she allowed her suburban yard to blossom into prairie. That process serves as a metaphor for her experience as a Black woman in an all-white area, but it’s also a reality in its own right – literally bringing color to a monochromatic place.
So, take it in such a light when I say I think I prefer most of the other recent editions to this one. That’s close to half of these that I appreciate, and there’s a lot to be said for some of the others that I don’t include for being too long (as I see it) in this context. It’s good stuff, and this remains an essential work.
The forward to this edition discusses the nature of argument in an essay, and has a line that encapsulates my preference in essays: "Often, there are no answers to the essayist's questions." Since a great percentage of my writing is an attempt to think things through, I identify with that. And my idea of the essay is rooted in Addison and Steele, and Montaigne: the raising of questions, and essaying to explore for answers.
Wesley Morris's introduction (which misspells taut as taught) focuses on the self-exposure that essays can involve, and I was a bit worried that we would have a pure confessional collection here, and while it does lean that way a bit, I can recommend the volume. With one exception.
Two essays got more than one exclamation point from me, being the first and the last. Typically, the Best American series puts essays or stories in alphabetical order by author's last name, but this volume is organized differently. Most anthologists prefer to put the top stories at the beginning and end, and I'm pretty sure that's what happened here.
The first is Jenisha Watts's "Jenisha from Kentucky." It starts with her being escorted to a Harlem brownstone and introduced to Maya Angelou, and surrounded by famous or well-connected literati, and then reveals that the narrator doesn't "belong" in this world, having been raised in a crack house. It's a brutal memoir, and reveals painful secrets, and ends on an earned, courageous note.
The last is "A Rewilding" by Christienne L. Hinz. It's about her struggles to grow and keep a garden of wild plants. It turns on this explanatory paragraph, describing the natural history of suburban housing developments:
Then insult of insults, landscaping companies lay sod directly on top of clay scraped bare of its original fertility. Now the homeowner has to pay good money to continually water grass planted on clay that can no longer sequester water. Now the homeowner has to pay good money, annually, to fertilize the lawn with nitrogen (which runs off in the rainwater that can't be sequestered by the hardpan clay). Now the homeowner has to pay good money to poison the very plants evolved to repair disturbed ecosystems: dandelions, plantain, violets, clover, lamb's quarters, purslane, and sorrel.
The struggle pays off like this:
...Their mother whispered to me that her kids only knew about fireflies from seeing them depicted in storybooks. "Hell," she said ruefully, "I've never seen so many fireflies in one place at the same time." It made my heart hurt, really hurt, to think we have raised a generation of children so profoundly disconnected from a natural world in need of mending. I captured some fireflies in a mason jar so the kids could see what they looked like up close. Their awed gazes and murmurs of appreciation were payment in full for the time, money, physical and psychic labor I'd spent seducing a backyard ecosystem's revival. I say be a weed....
The low point of this collection for me was "Trapdoor" by Kathleen Alcott. My summary note in the table of contents reads, "Hate the voice. Big hate." and my end note is, "Compulsive and pointless modification. Narcissistic voice." This one is written in showy prose, and I was nitpicking it the whole way. A questionable use of "lapidary" here, excessive modifiers almost everywhere, and appealing to her acupuncturist as an authority on life.
The first sentence runs like this: "Toward the end of my life in New York, a decade and change I would dispense with as casually as I'd begun it, came a season of psychic misery that felt as vertiginous, as alarming and noiseless, as a winding drive along a cliff--the windows sealed shut against a danger still visible." This is biographer-speak, or critic-speak, not self. And it turned me against the essay from the start.
Obviously your mileage may vary.
Two standout offerings, a tad too many confessional pieces, one clinker. Four stars.
I'm so depressed by the fact that we've had essays by transphobia-sympathetic radical feminists musing about their halfhearted support for trans rights multiple years in a row. The essay "As They Like It" concedes only the classic early 90s radfem idea that nonbinary identity and non-conformity are good, but any medical or self assured trans identity is suspect and socially implanted. Lipson talks about her disgust and distrust for her child's presentation and potential male identity, only feeling relief when her child says they do not know their identity. The entire essay refers to the child as she, which by the end we know is not against the child's wishes, but as the entire essay progresses it's clear that "she" carries huge weight. That "she" is a conditional love and support, that she is a barrier from the disgust that might spring were her child to admit to wanting to transition, to wanting top surgery. Forgive me if I find the proes about the beauty of nonconformity hollow as a trans man who has seen that same callous disgust from my feminist mother at the identity I could not control. The introduction posits the questions asked in this essay as something we're "not meant to ask", but any trans masculine reader will wonder when we're meant to stop asking them. We have heard this repeated over and over, and the essay doesn't even offer a counterpoint. It approaches modern science with skepticism, as if no answer can possibly be surmised by asking transgender men for their experience. One would hope that the Best American Essays could locate a few transgender people's essays that spoke better to the topic than this one. Alexander Chee was able to platform at least one trans essayist in 2022, and I have zero belief that we have gone silent since then. I fear this new editor, who equates deplatforming to right wing extremism and general authoritarianism, will continue to platform centrist bigots who make weak gestures towards equality, rather than let trans people speak on their own terms. It hurts my heart to feel like I should just give up reading these as a trans man on the off chance I'm giving my money partially to people who view me with barely disguised contempt and discomfort. (By the way, if the authors group of cis women had had a single trans person among them, they might have learned none of us object to cis women using the word "woman" or equating cis womanhood to trans womanhood. In fact, we want you to consider both innate, rather than referring to yourself as natural born women and trans women as some other of modernity.) Outside of that essay, the entire collection has an uncomfortable running theme of helplessness and disconnection. The Lives of Bryan tells of medical neglect and discomfort towards a disabled brother that treats his near death experiences as facts of life. If Not Now, Later introduces us to a son who dies by suicide, but teaches us nothing of his interiority. Other essays that could be strong in another collection are dragged down by this air, by a feeling of disinterest in digging to the route of a problem in our culture. Some are worth it, but you're better off hunting down The Ones We Sent Away or Trapdoor in their original print then supporting this collection.
Impressive collection edited by Pulitzer-winner Wesley Morris. I have read over half of them and was particularly impressed and touched by the work of Jenisha Watts relating her journey as a young writer from Kentucky; Jennifer Senior "The Ones We Sent Away" about her institutionalized aunt; Richard Prins' heartbreaking tale of mental illness in the mother of his child; and Christienne L. Hinz lovely piece on being a weed and natural gardening. I also was drawn to Brock Clarke's piece "Woodstove" about deaths in his family, dogs and people. There are also essays "grappling with the issues of our time" from Teju Cole, Sallie Tisdale, Yiyun LiRémy Ngamije, and Jerald Walker.
This was not a very interesting edition of this series. There were two or three essays that were so dull and overwritten that I could not even finish them. Most were kind of boring, banal, and went with verbosity over humor, description, interesting information, or emotion. There was one essay about a tree that fell in the back of an author's house which the author then turned into a reflection on climate change and (checks notes) the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Here are a few that I thought were better than the edition as a whole: I liked "The Ones We Sent Away" by Jennifer Senior. This was about the author's aunt who was institutionalized at a young age with severe autism. It was written with a real, sincere voice and lots of heart. I really loved it. "An Upset Place" by James Whorton, Jr. was really well done. This was about the author's work to trace his family lineage back to the Civil War era, when a great grandfather of his owned slaves. What makes this essay so interesting is that it is partly about how hard it is to know how people in that era and place actually lived because Black slaves are simply omitted from the historical record even though (as it seems for Whorton's great grandfather) they played huge roles in peoples' lives. Christienne Hinz's "A Rewilding" was interesting for its tone and Hinz's apparent talent as a gardener. It sounds like she needs to chill out, though. Anyhow, I don't think I understand what made many of these seem appealing but I guess you figure out what you like by noticing what doesn't inspire you.
There is a clear breakdown of these essays into tiers of quality.
There are a handful of real gems. They strike at your heart, they are expertly written, and bear well the weight of “best essays of 2024.”
Then there are the essays which are pretty good. These are meaningful essays that are worthwhile reads but the craft of writing isn’t quite as high and the rhetoric isn’t quite as impactful. I wouldn’t say they’re the best, but they are worthwhile reads.
Then there are the poor essays. These mostly attempt to mimic the good essays but don’t have the heart. Their style and structure is cheap, cookie cutter, the kind of style you’re “supposed” to write in and gets you an immediate A in writing class. But it’s ultimately really boring and ineffective. These essays really shouldn’t be in this book.
Lastly, there is the absolutely dog crap. There are some essays in here that made me want to tear my eyeballs out of my head. At least one essay I couldn’t even get through the first page. They are overwritten in a style that’s meant to sound literary and profound but amounts to the most vapid, saccharine prose you can imagine. These essays represent the worst of literary writing. They mask empty romanticism with strings of adverbs and over-written descriptions. As Jude would say, “They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted—twice dead. They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever.” I bemoan their existence in this collection.
If you’re a grownup who appreciates deeply inhabiting the perspective and experience of another, this is probably the best BAE curation in recent memory. (I’ve been reading regularly for nearly two decades.) Fellow Gen X’er Wesley Morris nailed the final picks and their arrangement. Only one dud in the collection and it comes near the end. (I may give it another try but only while libambulating.)
Fantastic literary mix tape that contains some borderline experimental work you’d normally only see in the Pushcart plus one of the most moving pieces I’ve ever read in the Atlantic.
You may hate this collection if 1. You prefer to read swaddling coddling propaganda that reinforces the narrow confines of your existing worldview 2. You have never read an actual literary magazine (no, not the New Yorker…) 3. You’re not yet an adult and don’t have the brain maturity to appreciate the topics being explored
Even the essayists with otherwise cloying stylistic quirks I found intriguing on a meta level (eg Alcott, whose essay is so lousy with fifty-cent words it alone may be causing inflation — but there is an interesting psychological reason one might armor up with such vocabulary that parallels what the essay explores).
The diversity of essay subjects in this book are inspirational and entertaining. My favorite essay is "As Big as You Make It Out to Be". This essay is about college student experience of translating a book written by his Chinese language professor. I admire the author's desire to learn about the Chinese language and culture. This essay resonates with me because I aspire to learn more about the Chinese language and also do some professional writing myself. My other favorite essay is "Anita Baker Introduced Us and Patrice Rushen did the rest". This is an entertaining essay. I love the music of both of these soul singers, and I enjoy reading about their music resonates with other people. The essays "Jenisha from Kentucky" and "1978" are superb essays that inspire me never to give up my education and artistic passions respectively. "As They Like It Learning to Follow My Child's Lead" is an essay about the play "As You Like It" can help in raising children. The character of Rosalind in "As You Like It" is a strong female character for young girls to emulate, and this makes the play entertaining to read. I have never read the play "As You It" before. I want to read the play because this essay makes the play sound interesting. The essays in this book are so insightful.
What is it like to live with the kind of anxiety that boils into panic attacks, or to have pursued a dancing career in New York in the 1970s, or to reckon with a family tree that includes slaveholders? Three writers in “The Best American Essays 2024” tell us. Eloquently.
This reader was equally fascinated by what the writer Teju Cole sees in Vermeer’s paintings, by how Jennifer Sinor struggled to bear witness to the traumatic and largely inscrutable life of her brother, by the route that Jenisha Watts took from neglected child of an addict to senior editor at The Atlantic, and the one that Austin Woerner took from an affluent Boston suburb to China, by way of Yale.
Being in someone else’s shoes for the 30 minutes or so it took to walk through a deftly distilled story or to gaze at a subject pinned to the wall under a bright light was–as with most travel and gallery visits–deeply enlightening.
I had initially planned to skip over the non-fiction collections in this year's Best American series but a fitness challenge with a reading component lead me back to them, for which I am glad. That said, while this year's has a few standouts (in particular the ones that stood out to me: The Lives of Brian about a brother who had "died" several times, The Anatomy of Panic in which the author takes us through his history with panic attacks, The Ones We Sent Away about America's messy history with non-verbal intellectual disabilities and how the author's own family history intersects, and Because: An Etiology which has a unique and gripping writing structure) but on the whole was nothing mind blowing. I am still glad to keep up with modern American essays to continue to track and ingest what intelligent people are writing about our current culture tho, and look forward to next year's collections.
Disclosure, and take this as you will: I picked up this anthology because an essay of mine was selected as Notable. Having said that, I was fairly disappointed with the choices here. I kept picking this book up and putting it down. However, it seems like, based on other reviews, I am not alone in this regard. These anthologies always come down to the editors' tastes and interests, and I am finding that mine haven't aligned lately.
The essays originally published in The Atlantic were, by far, the highlights for me. There were some lyrical experiments as well that stood out, like "Love Is a Washing Line" by Remy Ngamije.
I have to say, I'm just so tired with all the writing about New York and writing about writing. I experienced this same annoyance with the Best American Poetry 2024 anthology.
I used my trusty checkmark rating system (1 checkmark for good essays, 2 for great, 3 for fantastic) again on this BAE, giving 11 of this anthology's essays checkmarks as follows:
1 Checkmark Jenisha Watts's "Jenisha from Kentucky" Teju Cole's "Reframing Vermeer" Jennifer Sinor's "The Lives of Bryan" Jerald Walker's "It's Hard Out Here for a Memoirist" Jonathan Gleason's "Proxemics" Brock Clarke's "Woodstove" Nicole Graev Lipson's "As They Like It: Learning to Following My Child's Lead" James Whorton Jr's "An Upset Place" Richard Prins's "Because: An Etiology" Rémy Ngamie's "Love Is a Washing Line"
2 Checkmarks Sallie Tisdale's "Mere Belief"
As always I'll note the ratio of women/nonbinary essayists to men essayists: 11/22 (as best as I can tell from bio pronouns).