A Look Back at 2025's Notable Reads

Reflections on the Past Year in Reading

The literary world is buzzing even as the ongoing hiatus of *The Millions* has restricted its regular editorial release to just seasonal highlights. Yet, in an impressive act of resilience, the team is reintroducing its beloved Year in Reading series for 2025. This annual feature aims to spotlight a diverse array of voices, unearthing significant reads from the past year—one that many may want to forget but is worth examining through literature. This year's iteration takes an innovative approach. Contributors have been asked for more compact reflections, allowing their insights to shine individually, resulting in a simultaneous release that promises to be a treasure trove for book lovers. Anyone on the hunt for their next engaging read will find a plethora of recommendations. For instance, editor Sophia Stewart cites her newfound determination to explore Muriel Spark's work, a nod to the series' capability to inspire.

Engaging Narratives from Diverse Voices

When examining the recommendations and reflections from the writers showcased, the passion for literature becomes evident. Caleb Gayle, author of *Black Moses*, highlights the challenging yet compelling nature of Brandon Terry's *Shattered Dreams, Infinite Hope*. This book confronts romanticized notions of the Civil Rights Movement, offering a haunting and necessary perspective that resonates in today’s discussions about race and history. It's not just another book on the shelf; it’s the kind of work that demands readers to rethink their understanding of the past—an exercise that can be uncomfortable yet enlightening. In a stark contrast, Gayle finds sheer joy in Katie Yee’s *Maggie; Or, a Man and a Woman Walk Into a Bar*, illustrating that literature can also provide an escape filled with laughter and wit. If you're juggling a tight schedule or straddled with heavy themes, books like Yee’s serve as a perfect escape hatch.

Experiences Shaping Reading Choices

James Webster's reading journey provides further insights into the year’s literary offerings. Shifting outward from his usual broad reading habits, he dives into self-assured debuts. A work like Stephanie Wambugu’s *Lonely Crowds* isn’t just a book; it’s a heartfelt recommendation from a reader who believes it can transform someone’s literary experience. Webster’s enthusiasm is infectious, suggesting that the fragile essence of contemporary writing can powerfully resonate during turbulent times. Moving through his year, Webster finds that some works, like Francesca Wade’s *Gertrude Stein: An Afterlife*, transcend conventional biography and craft an artistic exploration of legacy. Each title mentioned becomes a stepping stone toward a broader understanding of art and life itself—a reminder of how interconnected our narratives can be when viewed through literature.

A Personal Connection to Literature

In a broader sense, the reflections from these authors illustrate the potent connection between reading and personal experience. Henry Hoke, for instance, recounts his reading choices being deeply intertwined with his new role as a parent. His year was marked by significant literary explorations rooted in his affection for Los Angeles, alongside new works from local artists. Engaging with narratives that reflect one’s surroundings and life events can evoke a sense of belonging and therapy—a familiar theme for many readers. The anecdotal nature of these reflections highlights the profound impact of literature on individual lives and societal narratives. As the tension between art and life persists, the writers in this series remind us that every book serves not only as a form of entertainment but also as an opportunity for introspection and connection. Ultimately, *The Millions* demonstrates that even during a hiatus, the importance of literature remains. This Year in Reading is more than just a collection of book recommendations; it's a platform for conversation, encouraging readers to explore deeper meaning within their reading choices. As anyone in the literary community knows, the right book at the right time can not only enlighten but also heal. What will you pick up next?

Dusty Facades and Hidden Depths

The opening impression of *Howards End* is strikingly superficial—dusty and dated—almost a caricature of itself. Yet, this initial perception is misleading. Once you immerse yourself in the narrative, the novel bursts forth with vitality and wit. Forster crafts a meticulous exploration of societal classes in Edwardian England, woven around the reverberant lives of characters influenced by the literary engagements of Virginia Woolf and Vanessa Bell. It’s a study not just of a country house, but of the tensions and connections that bind varied social strata.

Connections Amid Class Conflicts

At the heart of the story lies the oft-quoted refrain "only connect." It can come off as cliched—maybe the cheesiest aspect of the whole narrative. But that perception belies its deeper significance. Forster delves into the chasm between the old aristocracy and the emerging bourgeoisie, illuminating their mutual disdain, whether in their derision for the poor or their loathing of one another. The exploration of these class dynamics reveals not only the superficiality of wealth but the acute human experiences threading through these relationships, embodied by two charmingly eccentric sisters navigating this social maze.

Art as Connection: A Personal Reflection

Forster’s call to "only connect" also resonates on a personal level. It suggests a bridging of intellect with emotion, a challenge I find myself grappling with as a writer. Do I genuinely write to connect? The truth is probably more complex—it's about an impulse, a compulsion to create. Writing serves as a refuge, and amidst life’s chaos, those moments spent crafting words feel both pure and necessary. The act itself provides solace, even as I ponder whether the work resonates in a meaningful way with others. If you’re in this field, you’re likely familiar with that mix of elation and doubt. The pursuit of connection—whether to readers, ideas, or experiences—embeds itself in our practice. Yet, even the simple joy of writing, unmarred by external expectations, carries a sense of nobility. Perhaps, in the long run, the act itself matters more than the connection it aims to forge. That’s something worth striving for.

The Heart of New York: Lessons from Its History

New York is a fascinating blend of resilience and exquisite absurdity. It's the peculiar juxtaposition of grit and glamor, vividly illustrated by the sight of a rat scurrying off with a slice of pizza while a stranger grants a moment of shared humanity by holding a subway door open. This city’s density amplifies both the miraculous and the mundane, revealing the subtle kindnesses that emerge from life crammed together in a concrete jungle. This year, I immersed myself in three remarkable books that shed light on the intricate tapestry of New York's history, revealing how its underbelly has shaped the miracles we often take for granted. Robert Caro's The Power Broker, Jonathan Mahler's Gods of New York, and Thomas Dyja's New York, New York, New York, New York all dive deep into the city's evolution, from its fiscal struggles to its current status as a beacon of wealth and opportunity. They unravel the stark divide between the elite who sip cocktails on Billionaires’ Row and the families confined to NYCHA housing. Each author demystifies the figures who loom large in the city’s saga, exposing their human flaws alongside their grand ambitions. From Robert Moses, famously brawling with officials, to Alfred E. Smith's whimsical escapades in Central Park, these historical titans are revealed as more than just demigods; they were, at their core, flawed men driven by a mix of genuine civic love and ruthless ambition. The authors weave a narrative that complicates the mythos of New York's leaders, revealing how their passions built this remarkable city but also left many behind in the process.

Reflecting on Literature: A Personal Note

As I consider my own literary journey, I’m tempted to categorize my favorite reads of the year as if they were high school superlatives. For humor, Emily Adrian's Seduction Theory brought the biggest laughs. Lidia Yuknavitch’s Reading the Waves tugged at my heartstrings the most. Richard Powers’ The Overstory urged me to pause and absorb life more fully, while Quiara Alegría Hudes’ The White Hot had me reading late into the night, unable to put it down. Books like these offer us windows into varied lives, provoking thought and sometimes nostalgia. They remind us how literature intersects with reality, echoing the struggles and celebrations we've lived through this year. As we move into another chapter, I encourage you to explore these narratives as not just stories but as reflections of our collective experiences. They illuminate the joys and challenges that define our existence, both in New York City and beyond. So, while we can look back with appreciation, let’s also look ahead, open to the stories yet to be told.