nerd teacher [books] rated How to Argue With a Racist: 3 stars

How to Argue With a Racist by Adam Rutherford
Racist pseudoscience has become so commonplace that it can be hard to spot. But its toxic effects on society are …
Exhausted anarchist and school abolitionist who can be found at nerdteacher.com where I muse about school and education-related things, and all my links are here. My non-book posts are mostly at @whatanerd@treehouse.systems, occasionally I hide on @whatanerd@eldritch.cafe, or you can email me at n@nerdteacher.com. [they/them]
I was a secondary literature and humanities teacher who has swapped to being a tutor, so it's best to expect a ridiculously huge range of books.
And yes, I do spend a lot of time making sure book entries are as complete as I can make them. Please send help.
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Racist pseudoscience has become so commonplace that it can be hard to spot. But its toxic effects on society are …
Genuinely baffled by this presentation of recycling. It doesn't even particularly explain why recycling is good (if it actually is), but it does position it as a school-wide contest so that they can get a tree to plant?
Again, while this isn't insulting, it is... excessively common and not quite right. And it's definitely a way that people reinforce very simplistic and common actions as inherently correct and without actually engaging with the topic at hand, even at a level that is good for a young child.
I feel like we could make better books about organising for children than those that focus on charity, and this includes climate- and environment-related actions. So much of what we do to tell children how they can help is to "donate money" or "find sponsors to donate money (while we do difficult things, like swimming)," and it's not... actual action to solve the problem at hand. This is my first issue with this (and many other) books on this subject.
But I also find it frustrating in it not putting responsibility on who (particularly in terms of region) has created a lot of the problems that exist across the globe. Yes, "people are cutting down all [the panda's] bamboo," but why? What is the reason for this? Yes, there has been a decrease in parrots in Mexico "because their trees are being chopped down" but why? Yes, some people steal …
I feel like we could make better books about organising for children than those that focus on charity, and this includes climate- and environment-related actions. So much of what we do to tell children how they can help is to "donate money" or "find sponsors to donate money (while we do difficult things, like swimming)," and it's not... actual action to solve the problem at hand. This is my first issue with this (and many other) books on this subject.
But I also find it frustrating in it not putting responsibility on who (particularly in terms of region) has created a lot of the problems that exist across the globe. Yes, "people are cutting down all [the panda's] bamboo," but why? What is the reason for this? Yes, there has been a decrease in parrots in Mexico "because their trees are being chopped down" but why? Yes, some people steal the horns of rhinoceros, but why?
I think a better structure would be, rather than just writing a book to throw out all the issues animals face, to write about the animal you're wanting to discuss. Or write about actually organising instead of just simply raising funds to donate to some organisation that (most likely) already has a lot of money but aren't using it as wisely as they should be.
This book is such a slow-going one to read because it's just... too much? There are too many parts where I feel like everything goes over my head because I zone out from all the details (or all the Latin!), which makes me feel like maybe I've missed something.
In a lot of ways, it reminds of of Les Mis because of all the irrelevant detail. You could probably rip out a couple hundred pages and have roughly the same story. But I think it annoys me more because there's a 'mystery' for the reader to solve, and it feels like it's buried beneath far too many details (with many of those necessary details being easily forgotten due to the sheer volume).
Like, I feel like I need to take notes in order to remember which monk or priest is which.
I knew there would be a lot of pro-school messaging in this book, but it is... excessive? It's also plainly wrong and really does provide a space for children to grow into adults who think that school is necessary for someone to learn to read, write, or do maths. It makes a lot of the same arguments for why children should go to school that people continue making even today, without even considering how these things can be done elsewhere or that they should.
So it's probably good for pro-school people, but it's definitely not good for anyone who sees schools as a tool to assimilate people into the "correct" existence.
Church architecture could be interesting, but I don't want someone to pull a Victor Hugo so I know everything about what a church looks like without actually knowing BECAUSE I DON'T UNDERSTAND THE PHRASING.
A foundation of "seven plus seven." Is that seven by seven?
Hitchens definitely had his problems, but critiquing Mother Teresa for all the absolute shit she did was not one of them. Because of his proximity to the other horsemen and as a result of some of his other views, I was expecting for there to be some major issues here.
But it's a good starting point for anyone who wants directions in critiquing the harms and impacts of Mother Teresa or, in general, the church system that supported her bullshit.
My main issues include: The translator decided to use the sentence "She was a Japanese," which I'm surprised wasn't updated in newer versions but... okay. The naming conventions are inconsistent (sometimes last name-first name, other times first name-last name). There's an obvious failure of the translator to know what a child of an American would call their own mother when speaking English (even though this is a well-known difference, and it would've been true in the mid-century setting and when it was translated in the 80s), which is just a little obnoxious. But these are largely just small picks.
What I really think this book suffers from is improper marketing. Its inclusion as a 'mystery' book is correct, but I think its constant description as a 'classic mystery' and being marketed next to things that do fit 'classic mystery' does nothing to really help it. This is because a 'classic …
My main issues include: The translator decided to use the sentence "She was a Japanese," which I'm surprised wasn't updated in newer versions but... okay. The naming conventions are inconsistent (sometimes last name-first name, other times first name-last name). There's an obvious failure of the translator to know what a child of an American would call their own mother when speaking English (even though this is a well-known difference, and it would've been true in the mid-century setting and when it was translated in the 80s), which is just a little obnoxious. But these are largely just small picks.
What I really think this book suffers from is improper marketing. Its inclusion as a 'mystery' book is correct, but I think its constant description as a 'classic mystery' and being marketed next to things that do fit 'classic mystery' does nothing to really help it. This is because a 'classic mystery' to most people who engage in mysteries is to see it in the realm of there being a detective who you follow with an obvious crime to solve as you do, and this book isn't... that.
And that's fine. But the marketing team at Pushkin Vertigo really need to understand what the book is in order to help it properly find its audience... Especially when they're marketing it to people who enjoyed reading their other translated mystery novels, which are... very different from this.
I also think this book is misunderstood by people who read it (which can stem from the improper marketing), and I'm saying this because of how many people I've seen complain of its tell-over-show quality. The way the story is told is... through telling because the events of the crime have already happened long ago in the past for the characters. You're not following the 'mystery' of the kidnapped child of seven years ago, and that kidnapped child is not really the most important part of the story. He is an important part, but he and his kidnapping are not the core of the story. They are solvable elements, but they're not the point.
The focus is on the loneliness of 'spinster' women. There's a reason it takes place in an apartment block entirely dedicated to the lives of young women (and later older women). It's about the ways in which society completely neglects and overlooks their lives, especially once they're no longer "useful" to society. It's about what loneliness, especially under a variety of circumstances, can drive people to do (even in a very negative form). It's about how we can misunderstand the people around us because, rather than engage with them directly, we're encouraged to gossip and skirt around issues. It's about the assumptions we make of other people using what little evidence we have. Hell, it's even about the grief of loss and how that can negatively impact people.
I originally complained that this book was more like creepy vignettes than a mystery novel, but that 'creepy vignette' structure had a point. It was to show the reader all of these people, everything they do in their loneliness and grief and vanity and... whatever. We're being shown who these people are and what they're driven to do and why they're driven to do it.
The mystery itself is secondary, and that's... fine.
I was hoping this book would change from the weird vignettes, but it hasn't.
I don't know how it's a mystery book at all when nothing is... a mystery? Other than this one random foreigner who hasn't existed as a person and doesn't seem to have a real place in any of the stories.
I also find it obnoxious for the translator not keeping things consistent? They couldn't decide on first name-last name or last name-first name for Japanese people. Also, the translator literally did "she was a Japanese."
The Kindaichi Kosuke series of books is currently one of my favourite, especially as it does a lot within the genre that typically goes undone. Something that I noticed this time around and was able to ruminate on was that a lot of the books still hold a degree of humanity for the murderer, even when they clearly don't support their behaviour. This is something that I appreciate because it really does highlight that people can and do horrible things but that they're still people (which I think actually makes them more terrifying instead of less terrifying).
I point this out because it's something that is done in the solution to the case, and it's something that I frequently find myself wanting to see more of because I think it's best that we not separate ourselves too much from these horrible people (as in, we can definitely separate ourselves ideologically, …
The Kindaichi Kosuke series of books is currently one of my favourite, especially as it does a lot within the genre that typically goes undone. Something that I noticed this time around and was able to ruminate on was that a lot of the books still hold a degree of humanity for the murderer, even when they clearly don't support their behaviour. This is something that I appreciate because it really does highlight that people can and do horrible things but that they're still people (which I think actually makes them more terrifying instead of less terrifying).
I point this out because it's something that is done in the solution to the case, and it's something that I frequently find myself wanting to see more of because I think it's best that we not separate ourselves too much from these horrible people (as in, we can definitely separate ourselves ideologically, but we shouldn't be doing it on a species-wide level... something I've also noticed with real-world politics and problems).
Anyway, it's engaging as always. The translator does a wonderful job, and all of these books feel like they've been written from one person (even though they've all largely been translated by a handful of different people).
This book is probably a really good one to hand to anyone who likes clever prose and is interested in learning about actual animals (and not, as exists in the most commonly referenced texts on evolution, fucking hypothetical seaweed). There are tons of examples that discuss the concepts within the book, which really help to give a mental image to what's happening. This is something that I appreciate, even in pop science texts.
I also think it's good for any of the people others know who are interested in the topic but are sitting on the fence about gender and sexuality (like someone who still thinks men/women and their related roles are the only ones in the world but is at least open to learning some new facts about their world that could, one hopes, shift their gears a bit).
This book was actually quite surprising. It was less surprising for the solution and the mystery itself, but I wasn't expecting for a mystery novel to kind of tackle the idea of 'outsiders' and the supposed suspicious nature of people within a small town while also recognising that there are different cultures within the same country that impact how we think and behave.
Rather, I was more surprised because the handling of the issue wasn't immediately structured in a way to make all the 'small town' people inherently unlikable, unintelligent, or 'beneath' the protagonist (which is something that is annoyingly common in texts that utilise this structure). This is actually something that Yokomizo's books seem to handle well because Kindaichi never seems to hold himself above the people he's around. The locals are shown to be somewhat suspicious and cautious, friendly to a point, but with some still believing that …
This book was actually quite surprising. It was less surprising for the solution and the mystery itself, but I wasn't expecting for a mystery novel to kind of tackle the idea of 'outsiders' and the supposed suspicious nature of people within a small town while also recognising that there are different cultures within the same country that impact how we think and behave.
Rather, I was more surprised because the handling of the issue wasn't immediately structured in a way to make all the 'small town' people inherently unlikable, unintelligent, or 'beneath' the protagonist (which is something that is annoyingly common in texts that utilise this structure). This is actually something that Yokomizo's books seem to handle well because Kindaichi never seems to hold himself above the people he's around. The locals are shown to be somewhat suspicious and cautious, friendly to a point, but with some still believing that the 'outsiders' can never really understand them or the people they've lived with.
I also really like the ways in which superstition is utilised and discussed. This was also another surprise for me because, again, I'm so used to texts that utilise superstition in a way that makes in feel disconnected from the story and the people. This made it feel really authentic to the story and like something you could actually interact with, question, and understand. It wasn't taken for granted, and it showed how even some people who weren't really superstitious could still find themselves falling into the trap of 'fate'.
Content warning There are a lot of necessary content warnings for this book, but I also recognise that knowing about those content warnings can potentially ruin the narrative. I've put them at the top of this post but beneath this spoiler for people who don't want them.
The relevant content warnings for this book include: sexual assault, rape, incest, suicide, financial abuse, and extreme manipulation.
The opening chapter of this book rightfully describes this book as being "Kindaichi Kosuke's darkest case" by the 'author' of the book. Something to note about Yokomizo's books is that the 'author' is also a character who has been publishing Kindaichi's stories, though they are usually a semi-anonymous character who outlines the important details of the case for the readers and are rarely the same person.
The story has a lot of twists and turns that may sometimes feel like red herrings, but something that Yokomizo's books often do is to have things that seem like red herrings but are actually still useful pieces of information. Sometimes events may seem entirely unimportant, but they still hold a whisper of information. I appreciate this more than when stories do typical 'red herring' events or provide 'red herring' evidence to intentionally mislead the audience, as it's not necessary to understand the connection of the evidence to the case but it at least has something to say to people who are trying to solve the case alongside Kindaichi (and if you don't recognise its usefulness to the case, it doesn't detract from the story or feel disruptive).
The story itself is interesting, and I genuinely love the way that Kindaichi is a character who reminds me of Columbo. He's not bumbling, but he's extremely affable and occasionally appears a little confused despite the fact that he very much isn't. That personality trait in a 'detective' character is something that I appreciate. It also, in such a dark story, provides some of the bits of light that make it easier to continue reading; because of his interactions with others, his character keeps the book from feeling far too heavy.
This is a book that overstays its welcome, though I do feel like that's kind of the point.
Split into two parts (or 'books'), the first one is far more engaging than the second. Perhaps it's because all of the action for what transpires happens in the first book. You see the frustration and the conspiracy between the primary characters, and it finally culminates in what every other character in the book believes to be a tragic "accident."
The second part basically unravels those primary characters, both for the reader and for the characters. But this is where it feels like it overstays everything, and I stopped caring about any of what was happening. I had to force myself to finish this bit, and I felt compelled because I was already so far into the book. It was a slog.
This isn't helped because, at no point, are any of …
This is a book that overstays its welcome, though I do feel like that's kind of the point.
Split into two parts (or 'books'), the first one is far more engaging than the second. Perhaps it's because all of the action for what transpires happens in the first book. You see the frustration and the conspiracy between the primary characters, and it finally culminates in what every other character in the book believes to be a tragic "accident."
The second part basically unravels those primary characters, both for the reader and for the characters. But this is where it feels like it overstays everything, and I stopped caring about any of what was happening. I had to force myself to finish this bit, and I felt compelled because I was already so far into the book. It was a slog.
This isn't helped because, at no point, are any of these characters really interesting people who you can like. They're all entirely unlikable, but it's unlikable in a way that a person sees a particularly rotten politician. You don't want to follow their movements, but you're compelled to because of external forces. Many of them aren't interesting, though I also feel that this is the point. These characters are incredibly shallow and perceive superficial but grand gestures as being the only way through a problem.
Probably the most interesting bit of the second 'book' is the part where the protagonist starts to believe that his actions were part of the plan all along, even when he didn't recognise it as being something that could so easily be controlled. But so many threads of interest were used in ways that were entirely underwhelming or felt completely dropped, and that was one.