Halloween is still a long way off, but as summer ends, some ϳԹ editors are getting in the spirit early with a new HBOhorror series, an unsettling novel about the dangers of technology, and a book all about death rituals. Others are sticking to lighter fare, like a heartwarming film about food and human connection.
What We Read
This month I couldn’t stop thinking about , the most recent book by acclaimed Argentine writer Samanta Schweblin. The novel centers around atechnologycalled kentukis,stuffed animals with a camera inside that can be remotely controlled by a stranger on the other side of the world. Users can choose to be either “keepers” (thosewho keep kentukis inside their homes) or “dwellers” (those who control the kentukis from afar).In the novel, Schweblin weaves together the stories of several keepers and dwellers around the globe, exploring factors that lead them to connect with a personin a way that feels both intimate and invasive. Some characters buy the gadgets out of simple curiosity or a desire for companionship, while others use the technology for more sinister ends. It’s an odd concept, but in Schweblin’s hands, it works, and the result is an eerie, fascinating meditation on privacy, surveillance, and performance.—Sophie Murguia, assistant editor
With fall (read: spooky season) approaching, my ever present morbid curiositydrew me to mortician and activistCaitlin Doughty’s explorationof death rituals, . Rather than treating unusual (to many American eyes) funerary rites as something to be gaped at and dissected, Doughty describes how peoplebond with and grieve over our dead with earnestness, reverence, and even humorand joy. Her unblinking and sympathetic look at the diverse ways humans come to their final resting places is an oddly comforting reminder of what a compassionate burialcan do for the living.—Maren Larsen, Buyer’s Guide deputy editor
I just read , a 1974 novel by John Nichols about a little town in the mountains of New Mexico, the singular people who live there, and a generations-long fight over water, land, and resources. It’s wildly funny and smart, and I never tire of reading books about the state I live in—especially since it would take multiple lifetimes to get to know a place like this. —Abbie Barronian, associate editor
Like many privileged white people, I emerged from the wake of George Floyd’s killing and subsequent racial-justice protests with a long list of reading materialto learn more about anti-Black racism in America. I started with, by Michelle Alexander, which outlines the methodicalyet supposedly “colorblind” racism that has ledto African Americans being incarcerated . The book helped me understand the scope of mass incarceration and the laws, decisions, and systems that perpetuate it. It was astonishing and brutal.But the most powerful book I’ve read so far is, by Ta-Nehisi Coates. This2015 National Book Award winneris a letter to the author’s son about the struggle, weight, and fear of growing up Black in this country. This firsthandportrait of life as a young Black man painted a picture for me that no op-ed or prison statistics could.—Will Taylor, gear director
What We Listened To
I’m a huge fan of Gillian Welch, the folk singer who became popular after her coverof “I’ll Fly Away”with Alison Krausswas included on the Grammy-winning Welchrecords and performs with her partner, David Rawlings, and their spare songs—heavily influenced by old-time and bluegrass musical traditions—manage to sound both timeless and fresh. I was very excited when they released not one but two albums this summer: comprises covers of folk songs (including those by Bob Dylan and John Prine), and is a cache of previously unreleased tracks recorded quickly in 2002 to fulfill a contract. earlier this year and almost destroyed their archives, inspiring them to release the musicas soon as they could. I, for one, am happy it’s now out in the world. —Luke Whelan, senior research editor
This month, reemerged after a long hiatus. I was a devoted listenerof the old Cut on Tuesdaysshow that ended last year, and the first few episodes of the redux—featuring a new host, Avery Trufelman—have kicked off with a strong start. One of my favorites so far was (surprise!), exploring who feels welcome in nature, the rise of the pandemic-inspired “nature is healing” meme, and how people in cities are getting outside in surprising ways right now. Like the rest of , the podcast highlights a wide range of topics, including culture, politics, and more (another recent episode tooka deep dive into sexting), so you won’t get bored after a few listens. —Molly Mirhashem, digital deputy editor
What We Watched
The famous Indian film star . One of hismore charming performances was as Saajan, an older accountant nearing retirement in . Saajan is mistakenly delivered a hot lunch intended for the ungrateful husband of an unhappy housewife, a man who doesn’t appreciate the care that’s gone into her cooking. Instead, happily, a correspondence blooms between Saajan and the housewife, who share with each othertheir longings for a different, better lifevia short handwritten messages deposited into the lunch tins that are transported between the woman’s kitchen and Saajan’s office each day. The footage of the incredibly complex network of dabbawalas, the men responsible for running some 200,000 meals around Mumbai throughoutthe workweek, was mind-boggling but wondrous to watch. And the idea that two people could come together over a meal in such an unexpected way made it all the better. —Tasha Zemke, copy editor
I’m loving HBO’s horror series. Set in 1950s segregated America, the show follows Army veteran and sci-fi fan Atticus Freeman (Jonathan Majors) as he searches for his missing father. Given this summer’s call for social change, the first episode feels especially timely, as Atticus road-trips from Chicago to Massachusetts with the threat of deadly racial violence lurking at every pit stop. Fantastical monsters await in the woods, too, but Lovecraft Country is a stark history lesson on the very-real-life horrors of traveling while Black in the Jim Crow era. —Aleta Burchyski, associate managing editor