Dear readers, I grew up in a family of news junkies. My parents, who spent decades living far from their respective home countries, often talked about the bizarre experience of reading news reports on events they had lived through that failed to capture the whole story. But I also knew which journalists they admired, and I am acutely sorry that the precise hour of my birth prevented my mom from sitting next to one of them at a dinner party. There’s an adage that one of the highest aims of journalism is to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable,” and as cynical as I may be, I do believe there is a moral imperative to pay attention to what’s going on in the world. This kind of journalism, whether a wire report or a lengthy investigation, can change or save lives; I’ve seen it. Today, I recommend two elegant, book-length works of narrative journalism that capture the complexity of the Middle East. —Joumana “Notes on a Foreign Country: An American Abroad in a Post-American World,” by Suzy HansenNonfiction, 2017
Hansen, who has written for The Times Magazine and other outlets, exemplifies the kind of journalism I most admire. As an American who has lived in Turkey for years, she is a canny interpreter of life under an autocratic leader. But the primary “foreign country” of her title is really the United States, and Hansen uses her book as an opportunity to examine a particular strain of American exceptionalism. “We cannot go abroad as Americans in the 21st century and not realize that the main thing that has been terrorizing us,” she writes, “is our own ignorance.” Hansen grew up near the Jersey Shore and moved to Istanbul after 9/11. She had no sentimental ties to the region, and the Iraq invasion and the “war on terror” had shaped her views of Islam. Before her departure her father sent her a late-night email: “Did you know that Turkey is 99 percent Muslim? Are you out of your mind?” Through her years in Turkey, along with travels in Iran, Greece, Egypt and Afghanistan, she comes to understand America’s profound influence over the Middle East. Her years abroad are hardly the “joyous romp of self-discovery and romance” you find in movies, she says; “mine were more of a shattering and a shame.” “Notes on a Foreign Country” was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize, and it can be read as an effort to remedy Hansen’s own previously blinkered view of the United States’ role on the global stage. Really, it’s a fearless and remarkable work of self-reflection that inspires readers down their own investigative paths. Read if you like: “The Innocents Abroad,” by Mark Twain; any novel by Joseph O’Neill. “House of Stone: A Memoir of Home, Family, and a Lost Middle East,” by Anthony ShadidNonfiction, 2012
Shadid was a Pulitzer-winning Middle East correspondent, and by the time he joined The New York Times in 2009 he had established himself as one of the most respected, and collegial, journalists in the region. Unlike Hansen, he had a personal connection: His ancestors had left Lebanon for Oklahoma, where he was raised, and the Middle East had “fascinated, preoccupied and saddened” him for decades. In August 2006, Israeli soldiers entered Shadid’s family village, Marjayoun, a predominantly Christian town in southern Lebanon, as part of a wider military campaign. War is always personal, as he knew from covering countless conflicts — but now, aided by “enough cigarettes to keep the Carolinas out of the meth business,” he was reporting on a deadly incursion with his own family top of mind. “Until the soldiers left, the Marjayounis, hidden in their houses, spoke only in whispers,” he wrote. “They knew the drill: Voices attracted bullets.” It’s a typical Shadid observation, pithy and devastating. He was a stylish writer, even when reporting on the grisliest circumstances imaginable, and had a sophisticated understanding of the internecine politics and history of the Middle East. I’ve still never seen a better dissection of familial disputes: “What family in what nation fails to complicate divisions of money, houses or land? It isn’t just greed that breeds contention; there are also the grievances, hostilities and rivalries of childhood,” he observed. “Imagine an endless, increasingly infuriated procession of swiftly modifying positions. Imagine the rampant muttering of threats with increasing ardor.” Eventually Shadid was inspired to restore his family’s home in Marjayoun, thus subjecting himself to the baffling process of getting anything done in Lebanon. It provides an elegant framework for this book; as he writes about the house reconstruction, he delves into his family history on both sides and pulls in episodes from his life as a reporter along with a startling degree of personal candor. Shadid died in 2012 on assignment in Syria, at age 43. “House of Stone” was published soon after. I don’t know what’s become of his home, but it’s no exaggeration to say that I still grieve the work he might have done. Read if you like: “The Return,” by Hisham Matar; genealogy. We hope you’ve enjoyed this newsletter, which is made possible through subscriber support. Subscribe to The New York Times. Friendly reminder: Check your local library for books! Many libraries allow you to reserve copies online. Like this email? Sign-up here or forward it to your friends. Have a suggestion or two on how we can improve it? Let us know at books@nytimes.com. Plunge further into books at The New York Times or our reading recommendations. Want to see more of our expert reporting in your Google search results?
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