In “Indian Country,” Shobha Rao set out to accomplish more than just a conventionally satisfying murder mystery. Interrupting the plot’s progression are 12 lyrical interludes that take place between 1814 and 2003 and share an underlying preoccupation with the slippery nature of time, with colonial violence and crimes against women and girls recurring across eras. Read my review of the book in The New York Times, “The Perp in This Murder Mystery Might Be History Itself.”
Read my dispatch for the New York Times’ Headway Initiative about the discovery of oil in Guyana, its echoes of a colonial past and the questions about climate and energy futures that it begs.
“The world is at a critical juncture, and Guyana sits at the intersection. The country of my birth is a tiny speck on the planet, but the discovery of oil there has cracked open questions of giant significance. How can wealthy countries be held to account for their promises to move away from fossil fuels? Can the institutions of a fragile democracy keep large corporations in check? And what kind of future is Guyana promising its citizens as it places bets on commodities that much of the world is vowing to make obsolete?”
And read “Geopolitics, in First Person,” my short essay for Nieman Reports, about the editorial and ethical decision to weave myself into the story as a first-person narrator.
For The New York Times, I review Peace Adzo Medie’s second novel Nightbloom: “If family figures as one creditor in the novel, and the suppressed memory of rape another, then Medie intertwines the two, fingers welded in one devastating grip.”
My essay for The Boston Review, selected as a notable essay in Best American Essays 2024, highlights a hidden history of anti-Asian violence in the United States in the 1980s and 1990s and gestures toward Black-Brown solidarities, past, present and future: “In the tension between the idea and the reality of “who we are” and “what we stand for” as Americans, I do my work as a writer. I consider myself a lucky embodiment of the American Dream—lucky that my body was not broken with bricks or baseball bats for living it and lucky to have a body that, in a society beset by anti-Blackness, did not hinder my chances at it. Ever since the Dotbusters showed me how words could be weapons, I try my best to use America’s uneven, ironic blessings to illuminate how we have been led to hate each other and how we might transcend that history.”
For The Washington Post, I reviewed Azar Nafisi’s new book Read Dangerously: The Subversive Power of Literature in Troubled Times: “Her observations implicate both adherents of Make America Great Again and their political foes. She sounds alarms about the alienating effects of technology as well as ideology, conjoined twins in preventing us from seeing the full humanity of those we disagree with.”
