The History of [Thing] in [Number] Things: 2023 Microhistories

Didn’t think there was another way to use Einstein to sell a pop science book? Assumed that every quark and muon of his story, quotes, and general cultural currency had been spent? Not so fast. The thing that got me here wasn’t the Einstein, but the 99 particules. Can I name even twelve? Apparently, I have 87 to look forward to discovering.

Sometimes two wrongs can make a right. At this point, I am not terribly interested in what Ralph is stumping for these days (2000 wasn’t that long ago to me). And books that have CEO in the title are generally airport pablum of unendurable tedium. But Nader listing 12 CEOs he thinks did it right is a strange and possibly winning combination, like bacon on maple donuts.

“Around the World” suggests an even lighter exploration than “a history of,” and once you are up past 20 or so entries, it’s difficult to be an examination so much as a compendium. And that’s fine! Variations on a micro-genre are welcome.

There is no substitute for having an interest/affection for an author. I have been listening to Wilco for as long as I have been losing my hair, so Jeff Tweedy’s little memoirette through 50 songs that are meaningful to him is an easy sell and was an even easier listen.

A book about 10 really old trees. Elegaic, searching, thoughtful—and still a book about 10 old trees. Couldn’t be more excited.

Sometimes I feel like this structure doesn’t quite count. The entries are more discrete than I tend to like, and it is up to the author’s performance of the reading of each object, here works of art, to emulsify them. It can work but generally feels more like erudite vignettes than a guided tour.

How often do men think about the road of the Roman Empire is the question we should all be asking. This one isn’t out yet, but you can be your toga I will be flipping through it to see if each chapter is about a specific Roman road. God, I hope so.

Just give it to your Dad already. The only thing that would make it more Dadnip would be if it were a history of Roman baseball in 50 moments.

See now that just reads like a challenge to me. You’ve set a high bar there Stephen Moss. Not only do you have to convince me that birds can change the world, but that these 10 specific kinds of birds already did! Who am I kidding? I am already practicing how to bore my kids with the story of how the grackle was responsible for the formation of the modern trucking industry (that is a lorem ipsum anecdote, so don’t repeat it.)

Is this the book you would most like to give Dwight Schrute? No fuss just Eight Bears.

This one is not just juggling chainsaws but is also setting them on fire. LeDoux has to convince us that these “realms” exist and that they are fundamental to understanding how human experience works. I am willing to try. But Eigh Bears comes first.

Sometimes I wonder how did it come to be that specific number in the title. Did this author, for example, start with a long list of 19 people, but someone thought that was too many? Why eschew the workhorse 10 or calendar/quantity of food items familiar 12? Were those last two or four lives critical and the whole enterprise would have fallen apart without them? These are the questions only real connoisseurs ask and that well-adjusted people let go.

As is probably clear, this format generally is the purview of lighter fare, lending more toward leisurely edification than revelatory historical research. And for this title, which appeared on many best-of lists so far this year, the size and specificity of the number aren’t an attempt to gloss or condense something, but rather to give it specificity and weight. More like this, please, and thank you.

Sometimes weight is precisely what you don’t want. I mean, I like Dawson’s Creek well enough and would happily spend 25 pages learning about its production, fandom, and lingering cultural relevance. But no more than that. Serving size: one chapter.