In this 33 ⅓ series, Shawn Taylor drops his personal perspective on A Tribe Called Quest’s People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm. Taylor’s reflection starts off strong. His mother always invited a new man to their home to abuse them. He recounts the moment he had the album on his hands. Unfortunately, his writing lacks the analysis of the album from a music critic or journalist. He shares more of his personal journal. I didn’t enjoy it as much as other series.

In this 33 ⅓ series, John Perry dissect Jimi Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland. Perry has some informative details about the album and Hendrix. He went through the album track by track. It’s a decent read.

This book has two parts. The first part consist of 50 Notes on Book Design by Formal Settings. The second part showcases the books. The typeset of the first part is large; therefore; the text is easy to read. Unfortunately the big space and long indent are a bit disrupting. It would have been better if the noted book were accompanied by the illustrations so readers can refer to the design. It’s a missed opportunity.

This is another informative book in the 33 ⅓ in which Matthew Gasteier breaks down the illness of Nas’s Illmatic. Of course, I had to listened to this album countless of times and read about it a few times, but this one is still a fantastic read. It’s a good escape from the current political scene in the US and the world. That orange clown is dragging us to a war. Motherfucker!

This 500-page book features over 300 projects designed by Paula Scher. Adrian Shaughnessy wrote an informative essay about Ms. Scher and her social, political as well as commercial works. His interview gives us more insights into her life and work. I am a fan of Ms. Scher; therefore, I enjoyed reading about her life and flipping through 910 illustrations.

Ocean Vương’s début novel, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, is 256 pages. His follow-up novel, The Emperor of Gladness, is almost 400 pages. Whereas Briefly Gorgeous is brief and poetic, Gladness is attentive and emotional. His writing is still poetic and his characters come to life. As an immigrant from Việt Nam, I can relate to the protagonist Hải.

His description of HomeMarket reminds me of Homestyle Country Cooking in Park City Center in the 90s. I started out as a cashier, but wanted to learn how to cook homestyle country dishes. When I switched to the kitchen, my job was to put pre-made food on the plates and hit the bell to tell the servers to serve their customers. The food was not homemade at all.

I must confess. Trying to read a 400-page book these days is not easy. It takes patience and concentration. I tried to slow down my pace a bit so I could understand the stories. With Gladness, it was worthwhile to slow down so I could stay with stories a bit longer. Since I had read pretty much anything Vương had published, I find this book to be his best work up to date. It is a beautiful, soul-searching, and sweeping read.

Writing an entire book on an album is no easy feat, and yet Emily Mackay pulls it off with Björk’s Homogenic. Mackay delves into the technical details of making the album and Björk’s thought process and her vision. The materials were also drawn from Mackay’s interviews with Björk and the musicians who lent a hand in making this album. As a music appreciator, particularly Björk music, I enjoyed reading this book immensely. I’ll definitely look for more of the 33 ⅓ for more music writing.

Elevator in Sài Gòn is an investigative novel written in Vietnamese by Đoan Ánh Thuận and translated into English by Nguyễn An Lý. For most books, I prefer reading the original language over the translation, especially in Vietnamese. Since I don’t have access to the original book and a friend had vouched for Ms. Nguyễn’s translating skills, I gave Elevator in Sài Gòn a read. Because this book is a deceive fiction, I don’t want to give away the plot.

Indeed, Ms. Nguyễn is an excellent translator. Here’s an example: “The saying goes, a seventeen year old can break a buffalo’s horn, but in his experience a nineteen year old can’t bear much, neither physically nor mentally, especially when already suffering from a fatal obsession.” Yes, trai mười bảy bẻ gãy sừng trâu indeed.

Apparently, Ms. Thuận is a well-known Vietnamese novelist and yet she was unknown to me until now. I got a kick out of the sex scene, especially this line: “He even, once, asked to see my vulva, and he looked at it with such fascination, parting hairs strand by strand, the way a curious child goes exploring.” I am wanting to read the Vietnamese version.

Khuê Phạm’s debut, Brothers and Ghosts, is a historical fiction loosely based on stories of her family. Set in Berlin, Sài Gòn, and California, the narratives flips between a young Vietnamese-German journalist who is searching for her identity, her father who left Việt Nam during the war to study medical in Germany, and her uncle who settled in California. The stories of the war in Việt Nam and the new life in a foreign land juxtapose from one chapter to the next, which is similar to Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai’s The Mountains Sing.

I would prefer reading the novel in its original text, but Ms. Phạm wrote Brothers and Ghosts in German. I had to read in English translation. Fortunately, Charles Hawley and Daryl Lindsey have done an excellent job of translating from German to English. The novel is engaging from start to finish. Furthermore, Vietnamese words have proper diacritics, which make a huge different for Vietnamese readers.

Adrian Shaughnessy’s Herb Lubalin: American Graphic Design is a heavy book. Out of 448 pages, the first 80 pages dedicated to Lubalin’s biography. The rest of the book showcased his extraordinary works including Fact, Mother & Child, and Avant Garde. His typographic skills were outstanding. This book is an inspirational source for graphic designers.