by Johny McFliggen, PhD Literature & Business, Oxford

In "Humans of New York: Stories," Brandon Stanton extends his photographic odyssey through the kaleidoscopic streets of New York City, inviting us once again to peer into the souls of its denizens. It’s as though Stanton is New York's very own Rod Serling, ushering us through a less fictional, yet equally enthralling dimension where the mundane is the portal to the extraordinary. With each turn of the page, we're greeted by intimate vignettes that might evoke a tear, a chuckle, or a sudden urge to embrace a stranger on the subway.

Stanton's gift lies in his remarkable ability to distill the essence of humanity from the chaotic tapestry of urban life. He doesn't merely capture faces; he captures lives and stories, reminding us that within every passerby exists a complex narrative waiting to be shared. This collection is less about New York's iconic skyline and more about the emotional landscapes of its people. As if Sartre's existential musings had found new life on the streets of Manhattan, each photograph paired with a personal story echoes the universal themes of love, loss, hope, and the indomitable human spirit.

Critics have lauded Stanton for his empathetic lens, and rightly so. He transforms what could be a superficial scroll through images into a profound exploration of the human condition. It’s reminiscent of Mary Ellen Mark’s "Streetwise," yet Stanton’s work resonates with a raw immediacy and accessibility that makes it uniquely poignant. Unlike Randy Pausch’s structured narratives in "The Last Lecture," Stanton’s stories are fragments – snapshots – that invite readers to fill in the spaces between words and images with their own empathy and imagination.

Some might argue that the brevity of these stories leaves one yearning for more substantial exploration. However, this is precisely where Stanton’s genius lies. He posits that sometimes a glimpse can be more powerful than an exhaustive study; a fleeting encounter more impactful than a prolonged examination. Such is the essence of city life – transient yet unforgettable.

"Humans of New York: Stories" isn't just a book; it's an invitation to pause and acknowledge the profound humanity in our fellow man. In an era dominated by digital distractions and superficial interactions, Stanton’s work is a clarion call for deeper connection and understanding. While it may not have garnered specific literary awards, its contribution to our cultural dialogue is undeniable. The stories in this book are more than mere words; they are echoes of empathy resounding across the concrete canyons of New York City.

In summation, Brandon Stanton has crafted more than a collection of portraits; he has created a mirror reflecting not just New Yorkers but all of us. It's as if he took the city that never sleeps and found moments of stillness within it, capturing not just images but glimpses into our shared humanity. Let us hope that Stanton continues to wander the streets with his camera in hand, ready to introduce us to yet more humans of New York – and beyond.

Purchase Link: HUMANS OF NEW YORK: STORIES on Amazon

by Johny McFliggen, PhD Literature & Business, Oxford

If one were to distill the cacophony of New York City into a single repository of human experience, Brandon Stanton's "Humans of New York" would be the resulting tome. It is a visual symphony, akin to a photographic Aeneid, chronicling the odysseys of countless urban souls navigating the labyrinth of humanity that is New York. Stanton, much like a modern-day Virgil, expertly guides us through the vivid tapestry of lives that form the city's pulsating heart.

Stanton's transition from finance to photography is reminiscent of George Costanza's perpetual career shifts in "Seinfeld," yet with decidedly more success and gravitas. His camera lens becomes an empathetic eye, inviting us into the intimate lives of those who might otherwise remain anonymous in the bustling metropolis. The book's allure lies not only in its visual splendor but also in its ability to extract profound narratives from the seemingly mundane, much like Studs Terkel's "Working" did for the American workforce.

While some critics have lamented the book's repetitive format, I posit that this repetition serves as a reflection of life's cyclical nature—a poetic echo rather than a tedious refrain. Each photograph and accompanying narrative is a microcosm of universal human experience, revealing shared truths beneath the veneer of individuality. It is as if Stanton has tapped into the collective unconscious, much like Carl Jung peering into the depths of the human psyche.

The emotional depth Stanton captures is reminiscent of Robert Frank's "The Americans," yet where Frank's work is a stark commentary on post-war America, Stanton's collection celebrates the singular beauty of personal stories. Each page is a testament to the resilience and diversity of New York's inhabitants, echoing Mary Ellen Mark's empathetic lens yet focusing on personal narratives over subcultural exploration.

"Humans of New York" invites us to don our most pensive expressions as we ponder the infinitude of human experiences. It reminds us that storytelling remains one of the most potent tools for fostering empathy and understanding—a notion as relevant today as it was during Homeric recitations around ancient fires.

In conclusion, Stanton's work is not merely a compilation of photographs; it is an opus on humanity itself. It challenges us to look beyond the cityscape and into the souls that populate it, urging us to recognize our shared humanity amidst our diverse backgrounds. In this respect, "Humans of New York" is not just a book; it is a cultural phenomenon, a veritable bridge connecting disparate lives through the universal language of storytelling.

Purchase Link: HUMANS OF NEW YORK on Amazon

by Johny McFliggen, PhD Literature & Business, Oxford

"Atlas Obscura: An Explorer's Guide to the World's Hidden Wonders" by Joshua Foer, Dylan Thuras, and Ella Morton is an ambitious endeavor that attempts to pack the world's oddities into a single tome. Imagine if Indiana Jones and Carmen Sandiego collaborated on a scrapbook, and you'd still only scratch the surface of what this book offers. It is a guide not to the Seven Wonders of the World, but to the seven hundred wonders you probably haven't heard of, unless you're that one friend who always has an obscure fact ready at trivia night.

Joshua Foer, whose previous work "Moonwalking with Einstein" transformed memory techniques into a literary adventure, brings his flair for storytelling to the table. Dylan Thuras, co-founder of the Atlas Obscura website, adds a layer of authenticity and passion for the uncharted, while Ella Morton's editorial prowess weaves these elements seamlessly into a coherent narrative. The triumvirate has crafted a piece that is as much about the joy of discovery as it is about the places themselves.

What stands out about "Atlas Obscura" is its defiance of conventional travel guide norms. While Patricia Schultz's "1,000 Places to See Before You Die" might lead you to grand cathedrals and sunlit piazzas, this book lures you to hidden salt mines and eerie museums. It's as if "The Lonely Planet Guide" took a wrong turn into a magical realism novel and decided it liked it there. Each entry serves as a passport stamp from lands where reality borders on the surreal, reminding us that the world is far more wondrous than we often give it credit for.

The book's sheer volume can be both its strength and its Achilles' heel. With over 700 entries, it's a veritable encyclopedia of curiosities; however, one might feel like a tourist in a museum with too many exhibits and too little time. Some entries are tantalizingly brief, leaving you yearning for more context—a reminder that a good travel book should sometimes slow down to appreciate the view rather than just hop from one strange stop to another.

Public reception has been largely positive, with critics appreciating its novelty and the fresh lens through which it views travel. Yet, there are murmurs of dissatisfaction about its depth—or potential lack thereof—akin to watching a highlight reel when you wanted the director's cut. Despite this, its inclusion on bestsellers lists and various accolades speaks volumes about its impact on travel literature.

For those who have grown weary of the well-trodden paths outlined in more traditional guides, "Atlas Obscura" offers a welcome detour. It celebrates curiosity and promotes the idea that exploration should be about the journey rather than just ticking off destinations. In a world where Google Earth can take you anywhere from your couch, this book urges you to lace up your boots and see the world's hidden wonders for yourself.

In conclusion, "Atlas Obscura" is a modern-day treasure map for those willing to follow where X marks unknown destinations. It's a reminder that there is still much magic left in the world if only we dare to look beyond the obvious. As an explorer's compendium, it succeeds admirably; just don't expect it to hold your hand while you wander off the beaten path.

Purchase Link: ATLAS OBSCURA on Amazon