The Benefits of Refusing
This is an edition of the Books Briefing, our editors' weekly guide to the best in books. Sign up for it here.
In the U.K., when people stop smoking, they say they 'gave it up,' Melissa Febos notes in her new book, The Dry Season. In the U.S., by contrast, it's more common to hear that they 'quit.' She observes that giving something up has a different connotation; to do so is 'to hand it over to some other, better keeper. To free one's hands for other holdings.' The phrasing matters: Giving up feels gentler, and also perhaps more generative.
First, here are four new stories from The Atlantic 's books section:
The Dry Season is a memoir about the year Febos spent voluntarily celibate, and this week, she wrote for The Atlantic about six books that celebrate refusal and abstinence. The titles she chose opened her eyes to 'all the other kinds of reneging I've experienced, and how many of them led to unforeseen delights,' she writes. In her own book, Febos uses a striking metaphor to explain why she took a break from sex, dating, and even flirtation. Whenever she had a partner, she writes, 'it made sense to keep the channel of one's heart narrowed the width of a single person, to peer through the keyhole at a single room rather than turn to face the world.' Febos realized that she wanted, instead, to widen her aperture, and found that removing something from her life opened her up to all the other things that had escaped her notice. In essence, her book argues, saying no to one thing allows you to say yes to something else.
At a talk with the essayist and fellow memoirist Leslie Jamison earlier this week in New York, Febos said that her book is really about finding God, but she told the world that it was about sex because, she joked, it made for better marketing. Her description of discovering the sublime in daily things—such as the 'tang of fresh raspberries and the crispness of clean bedsheets,' as she writes in her recommendation list—moved me. It reminded me that spirituality can be less restrictive and more dynamic than I usually imagine it to be; that it can be found in smaller phenomena and stiller moments. My colleague Faith Hill, in her review of The Dry Season, came to much the same conclusion about the benefits of marshaling one's attention: 'Better to keep drawing it back, again and again, to the world around you: to the pinch in your shoe, to the buds in the trees, to the people—all the many, many people—who are right there beside you.' Febos's book made me wonder what narrow portals I'm looking through in my life, and what I might see if I turn away from them.
By Melissa Febos
Purposeful refusal, far from depriving us, can make way for unexpected bounty.
What to Read
Untold Night and Day, by Bae Suah
The page-turning plot twists and thrills of a detective novel are often a very effective bulwark against boredom. The Korean writer Bae's novel offers those genre pleasures and more: It is, as Bae's longtime translator Deborah Smith explains in her note, a detective novel by way of a 'poetic fever dream.' Set over the course of one very hot summer night in Seoul, the book follows a woman named Ayami as she attempts to find a missing friend. As she searches, she bumps into Wolfi, a detective novelist visiting from Germany, and enlists him in her quest. Events take on a surreal quality, heightened by both an intense heat wave and the possibility that Ayami and Wolfi may have stumbled into another dimension. Summer's release from our usual timetables can quickly lead to seasonal doldrums. Untold Night and Day, set during the stretched hours of a sweaty, unceasing evening, shimmers at its edges, like midnight in July. — Rhian Sasseen
Out Next Week
📚 UnWorld, by Jayson Greene
📚 The Möbius Book, by Catherine Lacey
📚 The Sisters, by Jonas Hassen Khemiri
Your Weekend Read
What Trump Missed at the Kennedy Center
By Megan Garber
Little wonder that 'Do You Hear the People Sing?' [from Les Misérables ] has become a protest song the world over, its words invoked as pleas for freedom. Crowds in Hong Kong, fighting for democracy, have sung it. So have crowds in the United States, fighting for the rights of unions. The story's tensions are the core tensions of politics too: the rights of the individual, colliding with the needs of the collective; the possibilities, and tragedies, that can come when human dignity is systematized. Les Mis, as a story, is pointedly specific—one country, one rebellion, one meaning of freedom. But Les Mis, as a broader phenomenon, is elastic. It is not one story but many, the product of endless interpretation and reiteration. With the novel, Hugo turned acts of history into a work of fiction. The musical turned the fiction into a show. And American politics, now, have turned the show into a piece of fan fic.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Los Angeles Times
11 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
Korean American artist reflects on her parents' immigrant experience in Tustin gallery exhibit
When Korean American artist Wendy Park was growing up in Southern California in the 1980s and '90s, the Compton Fashion Center swap meet was her playground. 'I grew up with immigrant parents from Korea and we worked in the swap meets all over L.A. We did Norwalk, Palmdale, Paramount and Compton was a place that I remember vividly,' said Park. 'I remember it being such a beautiful, colorful place.' Park's early life at the swap meet and her parents' immigrant experience are at the center of her third solo exhibition at Various Small Fires OC gallery in Tustin. Titled 'Of Our Own,' Park's paintings explore artifacts and rituals of daily life as an immigrant and the objects that can connect a current home to one left behind. In the exhibition, the large doubled paneled work, ''90s Compton Swap Meet' captures an uncharacteristically quiet moment at the swap meet, void of both customers and vendors. A carousel of sunglasses for sale with hand mirrors tied to the display sits along side a jungle of plants, some hanging and others potted in plastic pink swans. A broom, trash bag and metal hand truck lean against the brick wall, evidence of the work being done, next to a stall that sells baby strollers and battery-operated toy puppies that bark and flip. 'My mom was telling me how this really was a place of community,' said Park. 'It used to be a Sears building and a Korean man bought it and made all these little stalls and inside there were more kiosks and stalls. It was a place where Korean immigrants who don't have access to starting a business could come and work.' Swap meets themselves tend to be place of community for immigrant populations. They are places where they hear their own language spoken and purchase products and ingredients specific to their needs. 'This is painted from a woman's perspective of that era,' Park said of the work. 'It was a place of opportunity for Korean immigrants.' The subject matter is an incredibly timely one, given the countless raids made by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement across the nation in recent weeks with immigrant marketplaces and hubs like Santa Fe Springs Swap Meet, MacArthur Park and downtown Santa Ana targeted locally. 'Immigrants are the most hardworking people. They leave their families, they leave everything they know to come and start a new life. It is tragic that they finally get here, overcome their struggles and maybe live a good life and then get taken away,' Park said about the current climate. 'It is heartbreaking to see. It is an unfair situation and done poorly.' Park received a BFA from Otis College of Art & Design and spent 13 years in Disney animation. The bright colors that inform her work draw on that experience while also reflecting her point of view as a child, how colorful and alive the world seemed to her then. She references both American pop and Korean folk art in her work and makes newspaper kiosks, coin laundry carts and pots of Tiger Balm worthy of investigation. In 'Charms Cash' wads of dollar bills are tightly rubber-banded and stored in a can used to hold hard candy. 'It's really difficult for immigrants to trust the banking systems,' said Park. 'They are afraid of how much information they have to give or what might happen. My parents would hide money in the house or store it at the swap meet in candy containers like this.' Park's father sold plants at the swap meet and she got in the habit of hiding things in the plastic swan pots popular in the era, which are present in 'Go Swan' alongside an open can of beer and lit cigarette over a Korean board game. Some pieces are also historic documentation of sites that might otherwise be lost to fleeting memory. 'Western and 5th' depicts Korean market signage that no longer exists, but Park recalled visiting the center as child with her grandmother and aunts. The memory was unearthed with the help of an old photo of the 1992 L.A. riots. The concept for the '90's Compton Swap Meet' piece is an idea Park said she has carried in her mind for a while and its completion was made possible partly by oral history shared by her mother. When the two of them couldn't agree on the coloring of the building facade of the Compton swap meet, Park used a hip hop music video for reference. 'My mom members it as a brick-colored storefront but I was telling her I remember it like a rainbow,' said Park. 'I was watching a Tupac music video and it showed it with these colors in it.' Her memories helped Park piece together a more accurate representation of the place she and her family spent long days. Hours at the swap meet were so demanding in fact, that the family often couldn't get to church on Sundays. 'There was actually a room inside the Compton swap meet where they would all have fellowship and pray and have Bible study on Sunday,' said Park. The religious community found at the Compton Fashion Center is depicted in the wooden crucifix featured in the work. While Park remembers the swap meet fondly, she admits her mother has expressed a desire for her talented daughter to choose a more pleasing subject to paint. 'She is like, 'you can paint anything in the world, why are you painting the swap meet?'' said Park. But while her mother sees the family's tenure at the swap meet as a time she would just as soon forget, Park said the memories give her a sense of pride and reminds her how hard her parents worked to create a better life. 'For me, it is so admirable,' said Park. Mostly, Park hopes her art will encourage people to keep an open mind about others who might be living with fear for themselves or their loved ones as ICE raids continue. Park said now is the time immigrant families like need their community more than ever. 'The biggest thing is empathy; have an open heart and protect those who need it right now,' said Park. 'A lot of people are afraid to go out and get groceries, or do simple things.' Wendy Park's solo exhibition 'Of Our Own' is on view through July 19 at VSF OC, 119 N. Prospect Ave., Tustin. The gallery is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday, from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Atlantic
2 days ago
- Atlantic
How a Book Can Change a Graduate's Life
This is an edition of the Books Briefing, our editors' weekly guide to the best in books. Sign up for it here. For many people in their early 20s, graduating from college is both a significant milestone—perhaps the most important of their young life—and a rupture that leaves them utterly unmoored. (It has been this way for a long time; just ask Dustin Hoffman on that pool float.) A week ago, as the class of 2025 began heading into the world, my colleague Xochitl Gonzalez wrote about times we find ourselves without direction, and the books that can help guide us out of the wilderness. She names seven that helped her through upheavals in her own life, and specifically calls out transitional moments such as weddings (or breakups), job changes, and, of course, graduations. First, here are five new stories from The Atlantic 's books section: A provocative argument about what creates serial killers Yes I will read Ulysses yes ' A Father's Prayer,' a poem by Gioncarlo Valentine Fathers don't just protect—they prepare ' Weepers,' a short story by Peter Mendelsund My own college commencement ceremony took place some years ago this week. On paper, it was the perfect celebration: I donned my cap and gown, posed for my mother's Facebook pictures, and took an exciting phone call about a full-time job. But in reality, I wasn't even graduating that day: I'd been mailed my diploma the previous December and had spent the intervening six months underemployed and sick, subsisting on meals I was still learning how to cook and bottles of Two-Buck Chuck. Perhaps because my final college years coincided with the height of the #MeToo movement, I'd been reading a lot of work by female essayists and memoirists. I was looking for someone to distill and clarify what I was experiencing as a young woman, to help me move firmly into the category of 'adult' while taking stock of all the baggage I was still carrying from my teens. I bought Maggie Nelson's The Argonauts from a feminist bookstore in Atlanta. I got Mary Karr's Lit from a books-by-the-pound store in my college town, and devoured it. I read Eula Biss, Roxane Gay, Rebecca Solnit, Margo Jefferson, and Joan Didion. But the book that most defined those months and years was Leslie Jamison's The Empathy Exams. Jamison's essay collection alternates between measured analysis and naked emotion. Across chapters, the author takes on different roles: a medical actor, a journalist investigating a dubious diagnosis, a tourist in Nicaragua, a theorist of female suffering. In self-aware prose, she deftly avoids the labels that too often entrap women who write about their life and their feelings—self-obsessed, hysterical, histrionic. But Jamison also understands how good it feels to be melodramatic, and how warranted it can be. There's a big, bloody heart inside her sentences, and its insistent beat won my allegiance immediately and forever. At the time, I felt fragile, like my shell might crack at any moment, and between Jamison's covers I found a writer who understood that sensation. The margins of my copy, I see now, are crammed with annotations marking moments of reflection and identification. They're also full of craft notes, breaking down how Jamison deploys a phrase or a pronoun, charting allusions and noting connections between her ideas and the ones I'd encountered while earning my degree. Her book was a guiding star, not just emotionally but also professionally: It reminded me why I wanted to write and edit, and why I cared about great prose in the first place. It encouraged me to make room for my many overwhelming feelings—and then to keep moving toward the life I have today. By Xochitl Gonzalez These titles are great tools for anyone trying to navigate new opportunities, new places, or new phases of life. What to Read Drinking: A Love Story, by Caroline Knapp Knapp's memoir of sobriety is just one entry in a robust genre, standing among books such as Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, by Thomas De Quincey; The Night of the Gun, by David Carr; The Recovering, by Leslie Jamison; Lit, by Mary Karr; and The Basketball Diaries, by Jim Carroll. But Drinking: A Love Story was pivotal for me; I borrowed it from a sober person when I first started trying to stop. Knapp's depiction of addiction as a doomed love affair struck home. 'For a long time,' she writes, 'when it's working, the drink feels like a path to a kind of self-enlightenment, something that turns us into the person we wish to be, or the person we think we really are.' Every book about abstinence is also, inevitably, a book about indulgence—and what lies at its bottom, eventually demanding that we go without. As Knapp puts it, 'In some ways the dynamic is this simple: alcohol makes everything better until it makes everything worse.' Her book details the glory and devastation that precede the liberation of quitting, including the way that our excesses can subtly (or violently) affect our intimate relationships. Knapp's lushly written story illustrates the insidious way that romanticizing a dependency of any kind distorts its true impact on our lives. — Melissa Febos Out Next Week 📚 Room on the Sea: Three Novellas, by André Aciman 📚 The Girls Who Grew Big, by Leila Mottley 📚 , by Rebecca Grant Your Weekend Read The Entire Internet Is Reverting to Beta By Matteo Wong Reorienting the internet and society around imperfect and relatively untested products is not the inevitable result of scientific and technological progress—it is an active choice Silicon Valley is making, every day. That future web is one in which most people and organizations depend on AI for most tasks. This would mean an internet in which every search, set of directions, dinner recommendation, event synopsis, voicemail summary, and email is a tiny bit suspect; in which digital services that essentially worked in the 2010s are just a little bit unreliable. And while minor inconveniences for individual users may be fine, even amusing, an AI bot taking incorrect notes during a doctor visit, or generating an incorrect treatment plan, is not.
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Yahoo
Squid Game Season 3: director promises a 'crazy, insane, nuts' finale
Director Hwang Dong-hyuk has said he wasn't sure he made the right choices while writing the finale of Squid Game. That's right: after billions of views, record-breaking audiences for Netflix and fuelling the Korean wave around the world, the show is finally coming to a close. 'I had to make a big decision at the end of the season, because it's a finale for the whole series,' he said during a virtual press conference for the show. 'That decision was so difficult to make. I was still thinking about whether it's good or not. But the audience and the viewers will see.' The cast and crew were speaking ahead of the launch of Squid Game Season 3, which launches on Netflix on June 27. A continuation of the second season – which saw main character Gi-hun (Lee Jung-Jae) rejoin the games in order to defeat them from the inside – it promises more iconic pink suits, more games and a looming showdown between Gi-Hun and the sinister Front Man. It may be the final instalment, but it's hard to imagine what an ending will look like for a show that delights in pulling the rug out from under its audience's feet. Fortunately, the cast have been dropping hints. During the press conference, they were asked to provide three words to illustrate the Squid Game finale. Hwang Dong-hyuk chose 'crazy, insane, nuts,' while Lee Jung-Jae chose 'Finale, forgiveness, harmony.' 'Director Hwang keeps saying it's a finale,' added Lee Byung-hun, who plays Front Man. 'But I when I first read it, I felt it could be a finale. At the same time it could be a new start.' The cast also talked about the emotional impact of saying goodbye – while at the same time, putting to bed rumours of another season after this one. 'From 2019 to 2025, it's been a long time,' Hwang said. 'It brought me a lot of memories, good memories. I never expected this level of success with Squid Game. I mean, how could I? 'Your show becomes a world phenomenon. It's crazy. But it's time to say goodbye, I thought. So, that's why I called it the finale. It's time to move on to my next project.' And it seems as though the cast agree. 'I believe that director Hwang came up with the most adequate, the most unpredictable, the most meaningful, and the most intriguing and entertaining ending possible,' Lee added. 'So, personally, I am very happy with the finale and you all are going to be able to see where it all ends soon, but I can guarantee you it's not going to be what you think.' Squid Game Season 3 airs on Netflix from June 27
