In Praise of Rereading

The Godfather, by Mario Puzo
I’ve been rereading The Godfather for at least 13 years. This book is a weird mess—it’s got a subplot that’s like what might result if Victor Hugo was obsessed with pelvic floor surgery instead of the Parisian sewer system. It’s got bizarre strands of racism and misogyny and ephebophilia and so much toxic masculinity that I store both of my copies in a lead-lined tupperware container full of activated charcoal. Every time I read it, I find something new to cringe at.
And every time I read it, I remember part of who I am. The Godfather taught me most of what I know about doing business, handling interpersonal conflict, and resource management. It was instrumental in helping me to navigate a world of professional politics I was ill-equipped to understand. Although I’ve grown since the days when I was asking myself what Tom Hagen would do, it’s still a touchstone that helps me to remember a few key things: behind every successful fortune there is a crime. Never hate your enemies. And friendship—friendship is everything.

The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry, by Gabrielle Zevin
The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry makes me cry. It makes me cry every single time I read it, even though I know everything that’s coming. It’s a story that loves stories, and it’s a book that loves books. It celebrates the broken places between people in quiet moments, and it puts a sharp focus on the ways that stories and the people who love them can change communities and lives. It’s a close-up kind of book, not a broad, sweeping narrative. It’s about built family and found family and sorrow and joy, and I love it. And I cry when I read it, and sometimes, you need to cry.
Also, it celebrates short stories, both in their impact on readers and in their impact on literature. And heck, that’s just how things ought to be.

The Night Circus, by Erin Morgenstern
I had a heart surgery a handful of years ago. There were some complications, but all in all it went fine, and now my heart works well enough to get me through the day. One thing they tell you, when you have the kind of heart surgery I had, is that after the surgery, you will be required to lie flat on your back for eight hours without sitting upright. You will be coming off anaesthesia, and you will be on some Serious Painkillers, and you will not be allowed to lift your arms over your head.
To get through that eight hours, I downloaded the audiobook of The Night Circus. To this day, I am convinced that I healed faster because of it.
This book is gorgeous. It is a rumination on performance and competition and aesthetic and courage and love and devotion and identity and I shove it under the nose of everyone who asks me what books are good.
This book is good. It will heal your heart.

Zeroboxer, by Fonda Lee
Anyone who follows me on any platform knows that I think Fonda Lee is a genius. I’ve yelled about Zeroboxer before, talking about how excellent and well-balanced and perfectly paced it is. But it also is a book that grounds me in parts of writing that are easy to lose track of—action, dynamic tension, and subtle worldbuilding. I reread Zeroboxer for the sheer devourable enjoyment of it, but also as a continuing education in craft.
(Plus, it gets my blood pumping before I box, which is always a bonus.)

Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel
It’s no secret that Station Eleven is an incredible dang book. This is post-apocalypse done right, and it’s also a relatively quiet story about relationships and self. I pick it up when I’m in a major writing slump: the rich, tight prose and intricate plot never fail to refill my reserves, reminding me of why I write in the first place. The stories told in here are beautiful and searing, and never fail to leave me fizzing with inspiration.
New Additions
As of this year, I’ve replaced two older rereads with two newcomers.

Strange the Dreamer, by Laini Taylor
This is a book that I know without a doubt will replenish me the same way Station Eleven does. It’s a bright and vivid book with a beautifully unravelled mystery at the heart of several layers of story.

Jade City, by Fonda Lee
Fonda Lee’s adult fantasy debut, is everything I love about The Godfather without any of the strange, terrible parts. I know that on my third and fourth rereads, I will find even more to love in this story of family, business, struggle, and identity.
What books do you read again and again?