Reading is fun kids. Here are three books that belong on any respectable Red Pill bookshelf.
Three Years Of Hate, by Ferdinand Bardamu
3YoH is a collection of Bardamu’s best articles over his three years as lead author of In Mala Fide. I could write an original and brilliant paean to the Bardamu ouevre, but oh wait, I already have. Work smart, not hard, that’s the ticket:
“In Mala Fide is not a safe space. Ferdinand’s worldview is a blended mess of nihilistic anarchism, traditional conservatism, libertarianism, and youthful rebellion for the sake of itself. And still, it is one of the clearest approximations of reality that you’ll find today. In Mala Fide has become one of the most popular and comprehensive blogs (and web magazines) in the alt-right blogosphere, primarily on the back of Ferdinand’s ability to articulate a cogent and original perspective in a literary space dominated by cant.
In addition to his contributions to the alternative blogosphere as a writer, this throwback profile would be incomplete without a mention of Ferdinand’s role in coalescing the diverse world into a single community. Weekly link-love posts, and a willingness to regularly host guest submissions from both established and new authors, have turned In Mala Fide into a one-stop hub for all your non-mainstream opinion and analysis needs.
The result of these two approaches – bold, reckless, and insightful literary forays into the murky swamps of the 21st-century western mind, combined with an open-door policy for dissenting opinions – is that In Mala Fide is currently the closest thing the alternative blogosphere has to a center.”
Also see my short eulogy for IMF. One wonders what the old boy is up to now. He didn’t strike me as the sort whose pen could lay idle for long. But until he rises, Han Solo-like, from wherever he is, buy the dirt cheap and well worth it Three Years Of Hate.
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Next up is Jack Donovan’s The Way Of Men.
I already reviewed it here, but in retrospect, I did a terrible job of communicating what a great book it is. My only excuse is that I was trying to make a point that was tangential to the review (the scope of the task of narrating a renaissance of traditional masculinity), but it came off wrong. Or, maybe my mind was just poisoned with negativity after a month of backpacking around the proud, noble, street-corner-shitting people of India. Either way, here is the cold truth: The Way Of Men is an excellent book. It was a very interesting read, it led me to a ton of great primary sources, I’ve thought about it frequently since putting it down, and it’s inspired one of my favourite new habits that I’ve built into my life since reading it. Buy it right now if you haven’t already.
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Last but not least is Aurini’s As I Walk These Broken Roads.
I will preface this review by saying that I was very, very excited to read this book. I was also genuinely afraid to read it. I was afraid because Aurini is one of my favourite bloggers. He is, as far as the word can apply to someone I’ve never met and who wouldn’t know my face in a crowd, a friend. Most importantly of all, I know that he’s a damn good writer and had worked his ass off on this book. If he couldn’t throw together a decent book, a worthy opening salvo in the looming culture war between The Cathedral and its soon-to-be-exponentially-growing Red Pill challenger, what chance do the rest of us have?
So it is with great relief that I write this sentence: As I Walk These Broken Roads is a great book. It is gripping, entertaining, immersive, and manages to walk the incredibly fine line of being very thoughtful and deep, while staying true to its core as a character-driven suspense thriller.
It’s not perfect. In fact, there are some fairly obvious flaws, and its a testament to the quality of As I Walk These Broken Roads that I recommend it so highly despite them. Some of the dialogue is strained. The first few chapters are extraordinary. There’s a romance that feels like it was added by a Hollywood producer who demanded that Aurini fit a love story somewhere, anywhere, in a book that is essentially a story of men.
I also had some trouble believing the early stages of the relationship between the two main characters. Without giving too much away, I think that there friendship comes too easily, especially in a post-apocalyptic world in which I would expect people to be much more guarded and hesitant to trust. But, other reviewers have praised the relationship as the best aspect of the book, so maybe I’m just not seeing it. I do agree that the relationship in question, certainly one of the most important aspects of the book, is extremely well written and believable. But the beginning felt like each was very much wearing a green light at a ‘looking for a new BFFE’ party.
But enough nit-picking As I said, none of these flaws interfered much with my enjoyment of the book.
As a suspense novel, it is a great read. As a bromantic comedy, it is quite funny and moving in a very understated, masculine way. As a meditation on the nature of society in general, and our own in particular, it is the sort of book that often pops into my mind after putting it down, and one I look forward to re-reading. Most importantly, Aurini has created an extremely interesting post-apocalyptic world, a fascinatingly ambiguous protagonist, and a story with enough deliberate loose ends to leave me eagerly awaiting the sequels.