March 2025 Reading Round-Up
The 4 year anniversary of the best and worst of my reading month
Welcome to the March 2025 Reading Round-Up. Each month I write about the books I’ve read and rank them from worst to best.
First, apologies for the delay in getting this out. Between travel and schoolwork, the end of March and beginning of April were fairly busy.
Second, and more importantly, it’s the four year anniversary of The Book House Blog! I started Book House four years ago as a pandemic project and it has since grown beyond all expectations. I think (and hope) that the over 400 reviews that I have written to date has made me a better and more critical reader, thinker, and writer. Thank you to everyone who reads, subscribes, shares, and continues to be incredibly supportive of this project.
In the anniversary spirit, please consider sharing The Book House Blog with anyone you know who you think might enjoy monthly reading round-ups, quarterly theater reviews, seasonal publishing previews, and themed reading guides.
6. A History of Denmark - Knud J. V. Jespersen
Non-Fiction/History, 226 pages, updated in 2018
Every time I travel, especially to a different country, I look for a bookstore that sells a book in English that succinctly discusses the country’s history. That task proved harder than expected in Copenhagen, not because bookstores didn’t sell English language books, but because most of the books about Denmark tended to be about how to live a happy Scandinavian life. With a day to go in the trip, I finally found my compact history and read the book in one sitting on the plane home. Unlike my history of Greece from last year that began in the year 300, Knud J. V. Jespersen’s A History of Denmark told the story of Denmark from 1500 (the dissolution of the Kalmar Union) to 2017, when the book was last updated. Jespersen does not write chronologically. Instead, he divides the book by theme: one chapter explores the history of the Danish economy, another the role of religion, another military history, and so on.
I found the book to be comprehensive and well-researched for what it was, but also lacking in some key areas. For example, although Denmark’s involvement in the slave trade propped up its empire for at least a century, the mention of slavery only warranted one or two paragraphs. During World War II, Denmark was occupied by Germany but allowed to maintain its government until 1943. Rather than spend time on how the Danish economy supported the German war effort in exchange for relatively little Nazi interference in comparison with its European neighbors, the author chose to spend his time on resistance efforts and explicitly says that a discussion of complicity should be saved for another book.
Jespersen, a Danish historian, academic, and historiographer of the royal family, believes that the success of Denmark and its social welfare state depends on the shared values and history of the Danish people. As a result, he’s not only skeptical of the ability of immigrants to assimilate, but fears they threaten the Danish way of life. This xenophobia appears as occasional one-liners, but speaks to Jespersen’s (and likely other conservative Danish people’s) insular and outdated way of considering Denmark, its history, and its future.
Rating: 7/10
5. The Unclaimed - Pamela Prickett and Stefan Timmermans
Non-Fiction/Sociology, 280 pages, published in 2024
Up to 150,000 Americans go unclaimed after they die every year. Without family members to identify the body and organize a funeral, local governments are left to arrange for the body’s disposal, often through cremation and then a quiet burial in potter’s graves. In The Unclaimed, sociologists Pamela Prickett and Stefan Timmermans seek to answer the question of why so many people are unclaimed by exploring the stories of four individuals in the Los Angeles area, each of whom had very different life experiences, family dynamics, and community involvement, but still ended up unclaimed at their deaths.
A person might be unclaimed at death due to estrangement from family members; general loneliness; or poverty, including the inability to pay the expenses of a funeral. But this doesn’t mean that every unclaimed person dies unknown and unnoticed. One of the people explored by the authors, Midge, died in an apartment on the property of a friend who attended the same church. Despite the fact that the members of the church wanted to claim the body and give her a proper burial, they were barred from doing so because none of them were related to her by blood or marriage. In another person’s story, family members were hesitant to pay the county for cremation and collection of the ashes, but were more than eager to divide up the money in her bank account amongst themselves.
The Unclaimed is an exploration of humanity that is both depressing and strangely hopeful. For every person that is unclaimed and forgotten, there are also inspiring stories of crematory workers, government employees, and groups dedicated to veterans trying to make sure that people get the commemoration they deserve. This is an immensely readable work of narrative non-fiction, filled with detail and research on an under-examined subject that is worth time and consideration.
Rating: 8.5/10
4. The End of the World is a Cul de Sac - Louise Kennedy
Fiction/Short Stories, 286 pages, published in 2021
The End of the World is a Cul de Sac is a collection of short stories by the Northern Irish author, Louise Kennedy. Each story is centered around a different woman, each of whom is grappling with issues of violence, poverty, or intimacy. In one story a sister is haunted by the man her brother killed during the Troubles. In another, a woman takes her deceased boyfriend’s mother on a roadtrip around Ireland. In one of my favorites, due to the intimacy of the writing, a woman struggles with her husband’s anger after she gets an abortion. Each of the stories rely on Kennedy’s sharp eye for detail and contain fully-formed, lifelike characters experiencing life within the dual context of Northern Ireland’s history and present.
Rating: 8.5/10
3. Perfection - Vincenzo Latronico
Fiction, 113 pages, published in 2022 in Italian, translated to English in 2025
Anna and Tom are an expat couple living in Berlin and working remotely as “digital creatives.” They are drawn by the grungy and creative energy of the city in the early 2010s, which stands in stark contrast to the unnamed southern-European country that they moved from. When the book begins, Latronico introduces the reader to the ideal version of their life, represented in pictures they use to advertise their apartment as a sublet when they are traveling. The images show a beautifully curated space, complete with plants and up-to-date cookware. As the book progresses, however, and Anna and Tom age into their mid to late-thirties, they begin to grow tired and restless in their life. Berlin changes and modernizes, their values - oft discussed on social media - are tested when refugees arrive en masse, and fellow expats leave the city and return home. Anna and Tom dream of living in a different era; one in which their lives might have had automatic meaning stemming from the urgent social and political issues of the time. They are, however, incapable of creating that meaning for themselves, choosing instead to leave Berlin and see if another city will provide the same energy that Berlin gave them in their 20s.
Perfection was recently shortlisted for this year’s International Booker Prize and has generated a lot of buzz in the book world. Latronico’s writing style is unique and intentionally sparse. Tom and Anna move through the world as a unit, and, for the most part, are written about as a single entity with one perspective. Towards the end of the book I grew tired of the fused nature of Anna and Tom, and by the end, found the writing a bit clinical for my taste.
However, after reading Alice Gregory’s laudatory review in The New Yorker, I have a deeper appreciation for what Latronico was doing. Gregory asserts that critiques like mine are central to the skill of Latronico’s writing. She argues that Latronico intentionally rid the text of “proper nouns and mimetic precision,” to provide a larger commentary on how “you, contemporary reader, are the victim of poor training.” She goes on to write that the reader has “been duped into turning any text into a catalogue of fleeting images.” Absent florid writing, the reader must create their own images and choose how to perceive the world, which is the opposite of what Tom and Anna - obsessed with material things, visuals, and aesthetics - are able to achieve for themselves.
Rating: 9/10
2. When the Clock Broke - John Ganz
Non-Fiction, 377 pages, published in 2024
When the Clock Broke is a work of non-fiction about an era that barely feels like history: the early 1990s. Writing in granular detail about a range of political and cultural subjects in the brief period between 1990-1993, John Ganz lays the foundation for the state of American politics today. Ganz writes deftly about the political movements of right-wing populist candidates like Ross Perot, Patrick Buchanan, and David Duke; the corruption and racism in the Los Angeles police force leading up to and after the Rodney King riots; the standoff at Ruby Ridge; the rise of Rush Limbaugh and talk radio; and the popular appeal of John Gotti, amongst other subjects. The book is wide-ranging, but Ganz speaks with authority on each topic. Every chapter is connected by the common thread of the uncertainty of the post-Cold War era, which pushed the fringe into the mainstream.
When the Clock Broke was included on the New York Times’ Ten Best Books of 2024 list. While I agree that it is an impressive and well-reported work of non-fiction on an interesting topic, I’m not sure I would have placed it on my Top 10 list, simply because I didn’t feel it was substantially different from other well-reported books of its kind. That being said, this book is certainly still worth reading. When the Clock Broke argues that the turmoil of the early 1990s accelerated the rise of partisanship and extremism in this country, providing a bit of context to a moment that constantly feels unprecedented.
Rating: 9/10
1. Dream Count - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Fiction, 399 pages, published in 2025
Dream Count tells the stories of four connected women in the years immediately preceding, during, and after the pandemic. The first and central character is Chiamaka, a Nigerian travel writer who lives outside of DC in Maryland. Chia, who experiences the start of the pandemic in utter solitude, is defined by her past lovers and the series of idealistic choices that has led her to be alone in her early forties. Zikora, the second woman, grew up with Chia in Nigeria and moved to DC for law school. While professionally successful, she finds herself betrayed and abandoned at a critical moment of her personal life. Omelogor, the third woman, is Chia’s cousin and best friend. She is brash, opinionated, and a successful banker in a male-dominated industry in Abuja, the capital of Nigeria. A few years before the pandemic she has a crisis of conscience at work and decides to move to the United States to get her PhD, but quickly becomes disillusioned by the moralistic judgment and political correctness of her classmates. Kadiatou, the final woman, is Chia’s housekeeper in Maryland. Kadiatou was born in Guinea in poverty, never went to school, and experienced a series of hardships before claiming asylum in the United States with her young daughter. Kadiatou is thrust into the spotlight after she is raped by a prominent politician while working as a maid in a hotel. While Kadiatou receives support from the other three women, she ultimately faces the trauma alone as she navigates an unfamiliar legal and cultural landscape.
There is no doubt in my mind that Adichie is an incredibly talented writer. As always, Adichie seamlessly includes poignant social commentary by grounding her characters’ experiences in the worlds they grew up in and the ones they currently occupy. I tore through this book and was invested in the each character’s journey.
Ultimately, however, I don’t think that Adichie stuck the landing. While I think Kadiatou’s narrative was one of the strongest portions of the book, paradoxically, I think Adichie could only have been completely successful if she did not include it. In that instance, the book would have been a wonderfully well-written book about the issues facing three affluent Nigerian women in the modern era, each of whom has faced their share of heartbreaks and broken expectations. Although Kadiatou experiences her own heartbreak and broken expectations, the magnitude is radically different. Including Kadiatou’s story gave the book a disjointed feel at the end. I kept waiting for Adichie to weave Kadiatou’s story in with the others beyond just the fact that they all knew her, but she never did. Thus, at the end, I was disappointed and conflicted. I had such an enjoyable reading experience, want to recommend the book to others, but think an essential structural thread is missing.
Rating: 9/10
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