What I've Been Reading: May - June 2026
And a bit on reading burnout and how to prevent it.
Machiavelli was the sexy topic for the launch of my book club. After reading Discourses, I needed a breather, which I’ll explain why in the summary below. Reading burnout is real. Certain books and topics demand intellectual and cognitive bandwidth. Some demand spiritual and psychological bandwidth. And some books, by length alone, make you feel upon finishing as if you have completed a mental marathon. Even if you loved the book and loved each page, at the end you still feel as if you endured an intellectual or psychological marathon.
That is why it is important to choose some easier or shorter reads after a demanding book. The follow-up can still offer depth, but I suggest a book that can be tackled easily. If you want easy, pick some easy beach reads. They may not be great literature, but you can roll through a few decent stories and give the mind a break. Most of the books listed below were selected to avoid burnout after a heady topic. Each was easily tackled yet still offered depth.
I’ll close with this: if you are feeling a bit burned out on what you are reading, pick a book—whether fiction or nonfiction—that you sense you can tackle easily. Maybe you read a ton of literature; grab a modern and accessible history book or cultural analysis. Step out of story for a bit and read something with a different intellectual feel. Or maybe you are coming out of a piece of heady philosophy or a deep dive into theology; pick some easily tackled fiction. It can have depth, but it need not be intense. Maybe it is simply a guilty-pleasure read. Either way, jump into something fun that you can get engrossed in.
You can get a sense of how a book will read if you skim a few pages. No one says you must read only the old classics all the time or else you are a failure. Advice like “read only books one hundred years or older” is a bit of a generality. It is not bad advice per se, but plenty of good writers exist today, writing on interesting topics or telling interesting stories. No one says you must read nothing newer than Immanuel Kant for the rest of your life, or that you must read only beach reads for the rest of your life.
Books Read (in order)
The Prince, Niccolò Machiavelli
Machiavelli was the topic for my first book club. I had read Pierre Manent before and had no idea he was an expert on Machiavelli as well as on the theories of Machiavelli and the massive consequences of those theories. One can read The Prince and grasp Machiavelli. He was not a political scientist; he was a theorist. Much of his theory reflects the “do something” impulse people have when it comes to politics. The impulse to dramatically supplant the current status quo with one’s preferred ideology is also Machiavellian. Yet he remains important to read. His core belief was that man cannot be trusted to act as a moral animal; in fact, it is all but impossible. Focus on what man is, not on what man ought to do, since man always fails that ought. It is a bleak view with moral consequences. To understand modern politics, however, Machiavelli is critical reading.
The Discourses, Niccolò Machiavelli
Book I of The Discourses is worth it. It expands on the theories expounded in The Prince, though more through repetition, theoretical examples, and exegesis of history than through further articulation or definition. Books II and III of The Discourses are redundant, repetitive, rambling, and tiresome. Much of the material repeats Book I, and all of it repeats The Prince, but in a much more rambling manner. You do get, however, Machiavelli’s seething hatred of the Catholic Church. The Discourses further hammers Machiavelli’s belief that one is justified in using whatever means necessary, even if immoral, to obtain an end. We saw this with the relentless prosecution of Donald Trump from 2020 to 2024. We see it with the trans-progressive ideology that aggressively declares anything short of obsequious fealty to the cause to be political and bigoted. We saw it with how the Democratic machine made an unelected (and unelectable) candidate, Kamala Harris, its presidential nominee. We also see it with the wishes of the very online Right that a leader will come along to install their favorite podcast personalities’ clickbait conspiratorial theories as the new political system for America. But to finish: one can read The Prince and grasp Machiavelli. You can skip The Discourses.
By the way, I am covering America for my next book club. You can get some details HERE. Or if you would like to join, subscribe below.
Scoop, Evelyn Waugh
I learned of Evelyn Waugh through Starting Strength Boise, or perhaps it was on the Charles C. W. Cooke podcast, where Charlie Cooke interviewed Christopher Scalia (son of Antonin Scalia). Scalia wrote a book called 13 Books Every Conservative Should Read. In Boise, a fellow lifter who had worked at—and I believe is still associated with—conservative think tanks mentioned Waugh. Wherever I heard it, I was curious about Waugh and had no clue what to expect.
Waugh is brilliant. His satire comprises dry wit and funny names yet is full of depth. Scoop is a timeless piece. While it focuses on English media between the world wars, the themes remain visible today. One theme is the creation of a story to sell papers when no story exists—a.k.a. pure fabulism—while hoping the story will hit on a prediction by luck or advance a political ideology. We see this today, exacerbated on X by various personalities and particular podcasters. They throw out conspiratorial craziness or repeat talking points, hoping something will hit or generate clicks and views.
What makes Waugh special is his depiction, beneath those themes, of England struggling with its empire on the precipice of possible decline and of the behavior of the elites during this struggle—their decadence and, in reality, a kind of aimlessness. It is a fascinating look at England’s state before it entered World War II.
Three Uses of the Knife: On the Purpose and Nature of Drama, David Mamet
Mamet is easily among the best playwrights and screenwriters alive. Three Uses of the Knife teaches, critiques, and details various forms of story. Mamet will irk many. If you like feel-good movies, like me—such as Karate Kid—Mamet may have you questioning your taste. Still, you will learn how stories like those in Karate Kid work and how it all fits together. More than his analysis of movies, stories, and plays, Mamet’s strength lies in his view and explanations of human nature, particularly the actions people take and how they choose those actions willingly.
We live in a world of therapy-speak, and Mamet cuts through that noise, including the noise of Freudian, Jungian, and progressive thought (a.k.a. the partisans of heteronomy). What I also love about Mamet is his astute criticism of modern storytelling’s constant reliance on “backstory.” The claim is that you must know the psychological details, filtered through a psychological or political school of thought, to explain why someone does what they do. Yet when you look at the great stories and characters, emotional background or backstory is largely absent. We get to know characters through the dialogue masters, such as Tom Wolfe, or through the atmosphere masters, such as Raymond Chandler. Mamet says we know them by the actions they take in the moment, and we meet them in the moment. In Mamet’s iconic Glengarry Glen Ross, we do not get the backgrounds of the characters, but we do get who they are by their choices and actions—which makes for great storytelling.
Looking outside Mamet, we never learn any of Rocky Balboa’s childhood background, yet he is an iconic character. We know nothing of his childhood or his teen years, and we get no montages of his youth to explain why he yells at Mick or keeps wanting to fight. We get his choices and actions, which tell us everything about him.
Why We’re Catholic: Our Reasons for Faith, Hope, and Love, Trent Horn
I returned home recently to my spiritual home, Catholicism. I am a cradle Catholic. I rejected my Catholicism and God after my dad passed and went full-blown atheist. I read most of the famous atheists, particularly Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, and A. C. Grayling. But I have returned. The return to my Catholic faith was fueled by Erasmus, David Mamet, my old non-denominational church in Denver, St. John’s Cathedral in Boise, my wife, and other influences. I approach things cerebrally. I ordered a number of books on Catholic theology. I read this one because it looked easy, and it was.
It is a decent overview. It does not go into much depth on certain topics, or on topics I would have liked explored further. Its section on sex, particularly the “used car” example used to explain a woman’s past, reads too much like a take from the Whatever Podcast. It comes across as insecure, as if seeking validation that if a woman has sex before marriage she must have some kind of self-loathing and that no one wants a used car. In other words, it feels sophomoric, insecure, and lacking depth. Regardless, it is a decent, readable book on the Catholic faith. It certainly will not do any harm to read it, and the strongest sections are those on apologetics.
A Handful of Dust, Evelyn Waugh
Another wonderful satire full of depth, it offers another sharp look at England’s upper crust between the world wars. This tale begins with the consequences of a vapid wife starting an affair and her oblivious husband, hyper-focused on his family’s plush country estate, leading to a trail of consequences. We see the aimlessness of upper-crust types barely hanging on to the threads of family wealth, a cold, shallow woman who does not see the havoc she is wreaking, and the fact that she is an abhorrent person. Yet again, it is also a look at an aimless England as it struggles with its decline as the premier world power. It is hilarious, fun, and at times sad.
Deliverance, James Dickey
The movie is iconic. One scene is unforgettable. The movie stays close enough to the book. The book itself is fantastic. James Dickey masterfully captures the primal and the physical movement in nature as characters try to survive. The primal element Dickey captures is almost strange at first; he often uses sexuality to depict it. Yet he captures a classic and ugly element of human nature that we all possess. If you study classic wars, particularly the writings we have of battles from the Roman Empire, the brutal nature of those battles unleashed man’s darkest primal elements—elements innate to all of us. Reading about some of those battles is eye-opening as to what man is capable of, and even eager to do. It is an important aspect of human nature to understand.
The combination of fear and the drive for survival, particularly when fighting for life, taps into something ugly at times. Dickey captures that. He does not glorify it or condemn it, but he certainly lets it play out. The novel is hard to put down. Most people have seen the movie and are familiar with the ending. With the novel, Dickey leaves the reader wondering what happened to the characters after.