Book Review: The Best That You Can Do

The Best That You Can Do, by Amina Gautier, Soft Skull Press, January 16, 2024, Paperback & eBook, 240 pages

Reviewed by Susan Gaspar

I was reticent to review this collection of short stories. I worried I would not properly relate to the themes, perspectives, and cultural experiences. I worried my interpretation might be disrespectful, and that these pages were not meant for me. I envisioned the book’s audience to be a mirror of the author, and believed I was alien to the subject matter. 

I was wrong. 

Amina Gautier’s The Best That You Can Do is recommended reading for anyone over the age of, say, 16, irrelevant of race, religion, birthplace, gender, or economic standing. There are valuable insights and lessons woven throughout by way of the characters’ thoughts and choices. The reader feels like a fly on the wall, and occasionally, like a ghost. At their best, the stories pull you directly into the minds of their subjects and hold you there until the next tale begins.  

The stories are mostly short and read in the blink of an eye. Some feel like urgent musings quickly recorded before the memory fades, or brief remembrances that flicker in the brain before the scene shifts. It took me two or three to find the rhythm, but once I did, I was mesmerized. 

Be warned: This is not a linear telling. The stories skip through time and space, spanning decades and lifetimes for a near-epic experience. It’s a bit dizzying at first—like navigating a strange town until you relax and find yourself completely invested. There are five sections that help define the mood or theme, but the stories are so fluid that you may not notice. 

It’s not only the book’s timelines that shift, it’s also the locales: Brooklyn; Chicago; Philadelphia; Spain; Puerto Rico; Canada. From the sweltering bedroom in a cramped Bedford-Stuyvesant apartment, to the driver’s seat of a moving car on a quiet suburban street, to the bustle of Ann Sather’s Edgewater location in Chicago, the settings change as quickly as the stories read. If you have lived or spent time in any of the book’s locations, you’ll find yourself pulled back there again, viewing that place through different eyes.  

There are plenty of vintage and modern pop-culture references for seasoning: Atari, Enron, Chick-o-Sticks, Star Wars, G.I Joe, Calvin Klein, The Wiz, MCI, Key Food, Emeril, Lawrence Welk, and Jesse Jackson, to name a few. These help ground the reader while being swept through some uncomfortable terrain. 

And it does get uncomfortable, especially if you are white. Having lived in large cities all of my adult life, I thought I might be more prepared than most. But I had visceral reactions to the Civil Rights struggles, the constant micro-aggressions, the abject poverty, and the Black Lives Matter scenarios. There is far more to these than media can begin to portray, and they are far more personal and traumatizing than a headline, a tag line, or a protest chant can capture. The oppression and rage is visceral, and it becomes clear how, after years of shock and sadness, hope is lost and exhaustion reigns. I wanted to slink away and disappear as I read certain paragraphs, but forced myself not to skim or skip ahead because “I already know.” 

Because I did not know. In fact, I never truly will. Still, there is deep value in the study to understand. Reading is not witnessing or experiencing or living, but it’s one way to reach those who are reachable at all. As I finished the book, I understood why there is a lack of trust for humans who look like me: white, blond, generally optimistic, and welcomed most anywhere women are allowed.   

There is a heartbreaking longing in these pages—longing for joy, for acceptance, for love, for newness, for safety, for simple kindness. Some of these are a mere twinge of quiet loneliness, and some are a thunderous, anguished shriek. If it’s possible to stand inside the lives of people you may never know, this book will pry open the door. And I imagine if the people feel like family, the book may read like a shared diary. The beauty of The Best That You Can Do lies not only in its unabashed sharing of vital, raw human experiences, but also in the lens through which they are told. It’s a lens that’s not held up often enough, high enough, or long enough.  

To learn more about lauded author Amina Gautier, her full bibliography, and her awards, visit  https://softskull.com/bookauthor/amina-gautier/