Ryokan: Zen Monk-Poet of Japan

Translated by: Burton Watson

First line: Though travels/take me to/a different stopping place each night/the dream I dream is always/that same one of home

Why you should read this book: It's a curated collection of the poetry of the late 18th/early 19th century Zen monk Ryokan, including the three Japanese forms of waka, sedoka, and choka, along with a selection of his Chinese kanshi, all beautifully rendered into English that evokes the complex simplicity of the subject matter. These poems tend toward observations of the natural world (often focused on seasonal changes or animla behaviors), musings on his own life as an ascetic who begs for his meals and also likes to play ball with the village boys, and his thoughts on the people and world he knows, including his memories of the past. Reading these poems may perhaps offer the reader an understanding of the unspoken ideals of Zen Buddhism, or at least Ryokan's particular take on his beliefs.

Why you shouldn't read this book: If you were next in line for a position of power, you'd take it. 

Big Tree

Written by: Brian Selnick

First line: "Hello, stars."

Why you should read this book: It's the rare story told almost completely from the point of view of plants, and not just any plants: the main characters are two prehistoric sycamore seeds, desperate seeking a safe place to set down and grow roots before all their fluff falls off and they can't travel anymore. Merwin is the cautious realist who seeks to protect his impetuous dreamer sister Louise as they escape a forest fire, journey beneath the waves, and travel by butterfly, among other adventures. Is Louise communing with an ancient power, or does she just have a vivid imagination, and will her visions help them find a place to grow, and help fulfill a bigger destiny than any sycamore seed has ever imagined?

Why you shouldn't read this book: Other than the art style, it doesn't have much in common with Hugo Cabret. 

The One and Only Ruby

Written by: Katherine Applegate

First line: Nobody ever listens to the littlest elephant. 

Why you should read this book: The third in what appears to be a trilogy, this book tells the story of little Ruby's Tusk Day (a special elephant holiday for a young elephant coming of age) and her anxiety in the days leading up to it. Although Ruby lives a safe and comfortable life in the park with a herd of loving elephant matriarchs, her gorilla uncle, Ivan, and her dog uncle, Bob, she still suffers from the unresolved trauma of the things she saw in Africa in her earliest memories. Although she trusts all her family, it's difficult for her to put into words her complicated feelings about her tusks, and the plight of elephants, and the sorrow of her past, but until she can share her truth, she's always going to be scared. 

Why you shouldn't read this book: It's not as good as the first one, although it's better than the second one. 

Jane Morris and Me: Learning to Listen

Written by: Jane Herlihy

First line: It is over. In the love of his friends -- not all, but some of his closest. 

Why you should read this book: While recovering from a horrific case of Dengue fever, the author becomes fascinated with the Victorian artist's model Jane Morris, darling of the pre-Raphaelites, and the ways that women's stories are so often dictated by men who have no inkling of their rich inner lives, and begins to write a meticulously researched diary revealing a very different Janey than the one described by the artists who painted her. From there, the project blossoms into an examination of disability and illness, sitting quietly with information and waiting for understanding, opening oneself up to the freedom and possibility of the creative life, and grappling with permanent change, among other issues. This fascinating work of creative nonfiction is both biography and autobiography, nonfiction and historical fiction, traditional and feminist, and one hundred percent art. 

Why you shouldn't read this book: You've happily devoted your life to the care of invalid relatives, despite being something of an invalid yourself.