Nonfiction Reviews: Week of 7/16/2007

Just as Michael Sims does in his planetary guide, Apollo’s Fire (Reviews, June 11), science journalist Ackerman (Notes from the Shore) uses a single day as a narrative framework for examining a wide array of scientific information, but she has chosen a much more intimate subject: the human body. Starting with a 5:30 a.m. wakeup call and working through to the wee hours (with a pause for a restorative midday nap), she explains the complex details behind some of the body’s most basic functions. The day is a somewhat arbitrary structure for topics that could be discussed at any time (she holds off on exercise until the late afternoon, for example), but the arrangement is never obtrusive, and Ackerman’s prose is inviting. While she doesn’t offer a radical new perspective on the human body, she does provide a steady stream of interesting information on things like the tiny hair cells inside the cochlea that enable us to hear even the briefest of noises, and the aphrodisiac allure for women of the odor of men's underarm sweat. All in all, Ackerman offers an pleasant day’s diversion. (Oct. 2)

Science popularizer Aczel (Fermat’s Last Theorem) offers an uninspired and all-too-brief look at a remarkable subject. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881–1956) succeeded in melding his life as a Jesuit priest and as a scientist at a time when the Catholic Church denied that such a thing was either possible or desirable. Teilhard’s superiors prohibited him from publishing almost everything he wrote during his lifetime and forced him into exile from his native France. Published after his death, his works became classic examples of integrating religion and science. But Aczel discusses precious little of Teilhard’s philosophy and dismisses controversies with nary a thought. Stephen Jay Gould’s accusation that Teilhard was involved in the infamous Piltdown Man hoax is limited to eight words: “Teilhard was without doubt innocent in this matter.” Aczel is equally brief when addressing the skull of Peking Man, a crucial 1929 discovery by an archeological team that loosely included Teilhard. The Peking Man fossils disappeared in 1941, during the Japanese occupation of China, and Aczel provides no new thoughts on what might have become of the remains. Despite their evident relevance to current debates, Teilhard, Peking Man, human evolution and the relationship between religion and science remain shadows without any substance. Illus. (Oct.)

In his acclaimed Double Fold (2001), Nicholson Baker expressed outrage over newspapers and books turned into landfill by librarians who chose microfilm over paper. French historian Polastron picks up where Baker left off, writing with equal passion yet punctuating his pages with wit. A specialist in Chinese and Arab studies, Polastron surveys the annihilation of libraries from ancient Mesopotamia and China to potential problems looming with the cyber contents of today’s “virtual books.”Although Polastron learned of lost libraries while writing a history of paper, it was the 1992 destruction of the National Library in Sarajevo that triggered his desire to explore “all nooks and crannies of history in the attic of every civilization.”Over the millennia, libraries crumbled to rubble during wars and bombings; theft and storage problems account for more losses. As countless books went up in smoke, others sank to a watery grave during shipwrecks and floods. Lamenting the loss of the ancient Alexandria library, the author covers books that perished during the Inquisition, the French Revolution and in Nazi Germany. Polastron’s exhaustive research and vast scope make this detailed, authoritative study a revelatory read. (Oct. 26)

This straightforward recounting of the travels that inspired On the Road attempts to fill in some of the gaps left by the already extensive chronicles of the famous beat’s life. Though no period of the beat time line has been more fully documented, Maher (Kerouac: His Life and Work) tackles the details with a clear-eyed objectivity that is refreshingly focused and relatively devoid of the spin that often plagues these endeavors. Maher draws on a wide range of sources, most notably some of Kerouac’s less read works such as Visions of Cody, to gain insight into little-explored aspects of the writer’s personality. For example, while Kerouac’s Thomas Wolfe–obsession has been exhausted by scholars and biographers, Maher delves into Kerouac’s experiences with Dostoyevski and Tolstoy, and, on a related tangent, explores Kerouac’s Catholicism more comprehensively than most. Maher’s book also fulfills the promise of its subtitle by showing the reader how real-life events corresponded to the famous passages of On the Road, with Maher’s impressive research uncovering small gems like the appearance of a cowboy in a Colorado diner. Moments like these render this work another fine tool in the growing arsenal of the true Kerouac obsessive. (Oct. 9)

While most medieval women didn’t stray far from home, the Viking Gudrid (985–1050) probably crossed the North Atlantic eight times, according to Brown. Rather than just a passenger, Gudrid may have been the explorer on North American expeditions with two different husbands (one was the brother of Leif Ericson, who “discovered” America 500 years before Columbus). Brown (A Good Horse Has No Color) catches glimpses of Gudrid in the medieval Icelandic sagas which recount that her father, a chieftain with money problems, refused to wed Gudrid to a rich but slave-born merchant; instead he swapped their farm for a ship and a new life in Greenland. Specifics about her life are sparse, so Brown, following in Gudrid’s footsteps, explores the archeology of her era, including the splendid burial ships of Viking queens; the remains of Gudrid’s longhouse in a northern Icelandic hayfield; the economy of the farms where she lived; and the technology of her time, including shipbuilding, spinning wool and dairying. But the plucky and adaptable Gudrid remains mysterious, so this impressively researched account will interest serious students of Icelandic archeology, literature and women’s history more than the general reader. Map. (Oct.)

Oreskes, executive editor of the International Herald Tribune, and Eric Lane, a Hofstra law professor, offer a pithy and insightful analysis of the historical development of the Constitution, emphasizing the spirit of compromise that informed the deliberations in the hot Philadelphia summer of 1787. The authors are equally adept at demonstrating the threat that today’s deep partisan fissures pose to the founders’ vision of constitutional government. To Lane and Oreskes the Constitution’s chief virtue is the intricate system of checks and balances that constrains the tendency of people, whether as majorities or minorities, to impose their own self-interest on others. They argue that the recent rise of partisanship has eroded the underpinnings of the constitutional system; Congress has forgone its oversight responsibilities; the executive branch claims extraordinary powers; and the will to make political compromises is dead. But the authors don’t sufficiently develop suggestions for how to reinvigorate the constitutional system of checks and balances. Oreskes and Lane are superb at explaining underlying principles of governance embedded in the Constitution; readers will find their book provocative, but may be left unconvinced that a meaningful correction is within easy reach. (Oct.)

Purveyors of fine tea, the Heisses’ documentary dexterously weaves through the wars, economic upheavals and embargoes surrounding what was once considered the “elixir of immortality.” Though tea usage may predate written history, evidence suggests that Camellia sinensis’s invigorating leaves were first cultivated centuries ago in the tea gardens of indigenous minorities in Northwestern China and along the Indian, Myanmar and Tibetan borders. Chinese monks recognized the energizing effects and medicinal value of this evergreen plant and, by touting its benefits, ignited a thirst for tea that quickly spread west via oceangoing tea clippers and along the Silk Road. The famed East India Company flourished, “teatime” became social tradition, and cream and sugar were found to balance tea’s astringency. In this guide, the Heisses outline at length the production process from tea bush to tea cup, along with the nuances of regional varietals like China’s sweet green tea and India’s Darjeeling. An engaging historical and cultural study, this guide is geared toward both novice and consummate consumers intrigued by the world’s 2,000-year-old tea habit. (Oct.)

When Scotland’s storied St. Andrews Links Trust decided to build a seventh golf course (due to open in 2008), the well-known golf architect David McLay Kidd was commissioned. Golf journalist Gummer’s authorized account of the construction project is essentially a story of men pushing dirt into small mounds and planting it with grass. But there’s an art to what looks so simple: sculpting both a challenging course and bucolic vistas with a “craggy, ancient, organic” look out of a potato field dominated by a sewage treatment plant; balancing playability with aesthetic, drainage and maintenance considerations; selecting bunker sand; and defending newly seeded turf against trespassers and rabbits. Gummer’s engaging narrative, dotted with Kidd’s hole-by-hole analyses, captures these nuances. Unfortunately, the author trowels on hype worthy of a playoff round. Kidd’s management style is “like a run-and-shoot passing attack,” while his bulldozer crews “possessed the vision, the talent and the balls to lead and not just follow.” Gummer’s inapt sports metaphors segue into business-speak: “DMK Golf Design is no different from a successful sports team... total commitment is paramount.” Readers will have to hack their way out of knee-high clichés to get to the fairway. (Oct.)

In this compelling and important analysis of “the triumph of capitalism and the decline of democracy,” former labor secretary Reich urges us to rebalance the roles of business and government. Power, he writes, has shifted “away from us in our capacities as citizens and toward us as consumers and investors.” While praising the spread of global capitalism, he laments that “supercapitalism” has brought with it alienation from politics and community. The solution: “to separate capitalism from democracy, and guard the border between them.” Plainspoken and forceful, if somewhat repetitious, the book urges new and strengthened laws and regulations to restore authority to “the citizens in us.” Reich’s proposals are anything but knee-jerk liberal: he calls for abolishing the corporate income tax and labels the corporate social responsibility movement distracting and even counterproductive. As in 2004’s Reason, Reich exhibits perhaps too much confidence in Americans’ ability to think and act in their own best interests. But he refuses to shift blame for corporations’ dominance to the usual suspects, instead pointing a finger at “consumers like you and me who want better deals, and from investors like us who want better returns,” he writes. Provocatively argued, this book could help begin a necessary national conversation. (Sept. 6)

In a single day in 2004, Danticat (Breath, Eyes, Memory; The Farming of Bones) learns that she’s pregnant and that her father, André, is dying—a stirring constellation of events that frames this Haitian immigrant family’s story, rife with premature departures and painful silences. When Danticat was two, André left Haiti for the U.S., and her mother followed when Danticat was four. The author and her brother could not join their parents for eight years, during which André’s brother Joseph raised them. When Danticat was nine, Joseph—a pastor and gifted orator—lost his voice to throat cancer, making their eventual separation that much harder, as he wouldn’t be able to talk with the children on the phone. Both André and Joseph maintained a certain emotional distance through these transitions. Danticat writes of a Haitian adage, “ 'When you bathe other people’s children, you should wash one side and leave the other side dirty.’ I suppose this saying cautions those who care for other people’s children not to give over their whole hearts.” In the end, as Danticat prepares to lose her ailing father and give birth to her daughter, Joseph is threatened by a volatile sociopolitical clash and forced to flee Haiti. He’s then detained by U.S. Customs and neglected for days. He unexpectedly dies a prisoner while loved ones await news of his release. Poignant and never sentimental, this elegant memoir recalls how a family adapted and reorganized itself over and over, enduring and succeeding to remain kindred in spite of living apart. (Sept.)

Although doctors diagnosed Swiller’s deafness early enough to fit him with hearing aids, the young man from Mantattan’s Upper West Side still felt different. As a young adult he drifted from college to college, job to job, relationship to relationship, never quite finding what he was looking for: “a place beyond deafness.” He found that place in the mid-1990s, when the Peace Corps posted him to a remote corner of Zambia. During his two-year stint working in a run-down health clinic in a rural village, he fought for irrigation projects and better AIDS facilities. He befriended a young local who played chess and provided constant counsel in the ways the young white American could—and did—run afoul of local tribesmen (and women) and their age-old ways. Deafness would have provided a unique sensory filter for anyone, yet while Swiller may have his particular aural capabilities, he also has literary talents—an eye, a voice and a narrative talent—in abundance. A story in any other Peace Corps volunteer’s hands might have been humdrum, but in Swiller’s becomes intensified, like the rigors of day-to-day Zambian life, through deprivation. (Sept.)

In this startling study of Stein and her partner, Alice B. Toklas, acclaimed journalist Malcolm (The Journalist and the Murderer) puts their relationship in a new light, demonstrating that lives and biographies are not always self-evident. Through careful readings of Stein’s writing, Malcolm makes the case, quoting English professor Ulla Dydo, that Stein’s “lifting words from the lockstep of standard usage” was indeed, the work of a (granted, self-described) genius. Malcolm gets into more controversial territory in exploring Stein and Toklas’s stormy and complicated relationship—fraught with sadomasochistic emotional undercurrents—and their energetic sex life. But her real discovery is that Stein and Toklas—two elderly Jewish women—survived the German occupation of France because of their close friendship with the wealthy, anti-Semitic Frenchman Bernard Faÿ, a collaborator responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Freemasons. Faÿ continually intervened with the authorities on the pair’s behalf. This friendship was so deep that after the war Toklas helped the imprisoned Faÿ escape. Malcolm’s prose is a joy to read, and her passion for Stein’s writing and life is evident. This is a vital addition to Stein criticism as well as an important work that critiques the political responsibility of the artist (even a genius) to the larger world. Photos. (Sept.)

For the last quarter century, Hollander’s comic strip Sylvia has dared to say publicly what most women only smirk about with their favorite girlfriends. Now Hollander’s taking on the ultimate female nightmare—getting old. While men think they “still look swell” when they’re older, aging is hard on women. In a series of hilarious sketches, Hollander takes on everything from late-life sex with vibrators to peculiar herbal remedies for menopausal symptoms, rounding it all off with a most astonishing afterlife fantasy, where she’s reborn as Rex Stout. There’s practical advice, too. A lot of problems stem from things we think we should be doing, but aren’t, like having a fantastic love life. Hollander was 50 when she realized she was holding onto love affairs way past their “sell-by date,” ruining decades of her life. Now she reminds herself that she’s already been married, even if it was 40 years back and only lasted four years. Brimming with bad attitude, Hollander is a real gift to women “of a certain age.” (Sept.)

This collection of essays on everything from Oprah’s Book Club to the joy of being a new father displays all the qualities that have made Almond’s short stories (The Evil B.B. Chow) and nonfiction (Candyfreak) entertaining. The wicked humor of “Dear Oprah” features an in-your-face attack on “the Savior of Publishing” and her book club, followed by equally obsequious apologies, including a “gift of trust” to her of his baby daughter. A section titled “About My Sexual Failure (Not That You Asked)” offers brutally honest dissections of his sexual obsessions as well as those of past girlfriends, including chest waxing, fake breasts and masturbating in the family pool. “Demagogue Days” is a hilarious look at Almond’s experience with Fox News that displays an abiding disgust at current arbiters of cultural and political life in America as well as an enduring empathy for the underdog. But best of all is a beautiful and angry essay on “The Failed Prophecy of Kurt Vonnegut (and How It Saved My Life),” a look at Vonnegut’s career-long concern over “whether mankind would survive its own despicable conduct” that serves as a summation of Almond’s personal and literary ethos. (Sept.)

Patton, a graduate student at Rutgers, was a baby when she entered New Jersey’s foster care system. Five years later, she was placed with a middle-class New Jersey couple eager to adopt. Myrtle and her husband, “G,” were both African-American, like Patton, but also deeply committed Pentecostals. While G was laid-back, Myrtle was a mean woman who believed she needed to beat and whip Patton to make her “submissive,” to prepare her “for the modern realities of being a little black girl growing up in America.” All the black children Patton knew “got whipped whenever, wherever, and with whatever. This was part of our identity as black children.” Patton believes this behavior came from the slave experience: “It was what their parents knew and what their parents’ parents knew. It was a behavior that had deep roots in the plantation legacy.” Patton intercuts the story of Myrtle’s abuse with vivid descriptions of the torture and beating of antebellum slaves. Unfortunately, G, “helpless and emasculated... like many slave men,” couldn’t stop Myrtle’s abuse. Eventually, Patton ran away, lived in youth shelters and won a scholarship to a good prep school. Patton’s account is brutal and will likely become controversial, as her racial stereotypes, particularly her assertion that most black children are abused by their parents, may raise eyebrows. (Sept.)

Hoffman’s masterful, exhaustive tale of chess, its soaring triumphs and crushing discontents is filled with enough international intrigue and warped, shady characters to pass for the latest James Bond sequel. Along with the stereotypical lunatic Russian grandmasters (“the normally even-keeled Russian asked that his chair be X-rayed and dismantled to make sure [Bobby] Fischer hadn’t implanted a harmful radiation emitter inside it”), chess-crazed Bulgarians, Canadians, Libyans and the occasional American plow through the contemporary chess world in search of victory. In clear, thoughtful prose, Hoffman (The Man Who Loved Only Numbers) describes the players—(“[Short] doesn’t glare at his adversary, slam down the rooks, twist the knights into the board, rock back and forth, tap his feet or pace the tournament hall snorting like a feral animal”) and the game ( “On the seventeenth move, Vaganian made an impressive rook sacrifice to break up the advanced pawns in front of Joel’s king and launch an attack”). Hoffman’s only misstep is to set the whole enterprise up as his own father-and-son conflict, a sticky memoir structure that detracts from the built-in appeal of the larger story. Otherwise, Hoffman has achieved something singular; a winning, book about the “royal game” that will satisfy the general reader, kibitzer and grandmaster alike. (Sept.)

The Soviet Union captured the world’s attention in November 1957 when it shot a shaggy little mutt named Laika (“Barker”) into space on Sputnik II, which followed closely after Sputnik I, the first satellite ever launched. Pulitzer prize–winning journalist D’Antonio (The State Boys Rebellion) recounts how Americans, even though frightened by the Soviets’ apparent superiority in space, warmed to Russian reports on the pooch. The daily paper in Huntsville, Ala.—where Nazi rocket meister Wernher von Braun was scheming to get his Redstone rockets into space—advertised the local pound with a picture of a “refugee from the Soviet space program” suspended from a parachute. D’Antonio chronicles the frenzied year of 1958, when the U.S. Army and Air Force hawked their competing rocket designs to a president apparently more interested in his golf game, and an ambitious senator named Lyndon Johnson made political hay out of rockets exploding on the launch pad. American rocketeers wrapped up the year by sending a laid-back monkey named Gordo into orbit. Space buffs will be familiar with most of the details of D’Antonio’s story, but his fast-paced narrative incorporates firsthand accounts of everyday citizens caught up in the excitement of America’s push into space. 8 pages of photos. (Sept.)

The Gemini program has always been NASA’s quiet, superachieving middle child, overshadowed by the space cowboys of the Mercury years and Apollo’s lunar prospectors. French, an executive at Sally Ride Science, and Burgess, author of Fallen Astronauts, chronicle the missions on which American astronauts learned how to live in space for more than a few hours; steer a spacecraft around the Earth at almost 20,000 miles an hour; rendezvous with a companion ship; and navigate to another world and return safely. The authors relate that during the early Gemini missions, in the mid-’60s, several crews came close to ending in tragedy before NASA had the bright idea to have Buzz Aldrin practice in a Baltimore swimming pool for the final flight, Gemini 12. The book also covers the Apollo program and the U.S.S.R.’s simultaneous space efforts. Although the authors interviewed surviving astronauts, family members and NASA staff for some fresh material, space aficionados will know most of this saga by heart. For young readers born decades after man last walked on the moon, this is a readable introduction to the first years of America’s leap into space. Illus. (Sept.)

In this absorbing and learned study, Gaines (Evening in the Palace of Reason) chronicles the friendship of two great generals along with the American and French Revolutions, bringing great insight to both. He questions the standard theory that Lafayette and Washington had a father-son relationship and argues that the two men were the “founding fathers” of the centuries-long political alliance between France and America. This book is distinguished as much by the writing as the argument. Gaines’s fresh narrative of the very familiar late–18th-century revolutions is exemplified by his exploration of the important role the playwright Beaumarchais played in French politics. With his typical flair for including perfect, cunning details, Gaines points out that Beaumarchais’s nickname, “fils Caron,” sounded remarkably like the name of his theatrical hero Figaro. Thus, when Figaro debuted in the radical play The Barber of Seville, the “self-consciously savvy audience knew exactly who they were watching on stage.” Gaines also captures the drama of tense moments, such as Lafayette’s public call for a convocation of the Estates-General. This winning volume will likely overshadow David Clary’s Adopted Son. (Sept.)

The great cities of colonial America—New York, Boston, Newport, Philadelphia and Charleston—were in the forefront of revolutionary agitation before the War of Independence, but once the fighting began, says Carp (an assistant professor of history at Tufts), the politics of liberty moved to the countryside. The British concentrated on occupying the cities, centers of commerce and transport, in order to supply their army; the patriots reluctantly abandoned them so as to avoid being defeated in battle, and shifted their forces inland. It was no coincidence, then, that the most important American victories (Saratoga, Yorktown, Trenton and Cowpens) occurred away from the major population hubs. After the British defeat, some cities, like New York and Boston, went on to marvelous things, while others, such as Newport and Charleston, never quite recovered from their devastating occupation. Carp argues that political power shifted to the rural South as attitudes toward urban irreligion, culture, unrest and ethnic mixing soured. When the site of the new national capital was chosen, it was located on “a remote riverbank” midway between South and North. Carp’s account of the forgotten cities that fomented the Revolution is intriguing and will be mainly of interest to readers looking for an alternate explanation of this most remarkable of rebellions. (Sept.)

Those who think that the past holds clear and reassuring lessons for today will be hard put to find them here. In this beautifully crafted and timely work, the aptly named Church (minister of Manhattan’s Unitarian All Souls Church and author or editor of 22 books) takes us through the complex thoughts and actions of the nation’s founders in a way that will give pause to most readers. Each of the nation’s first five presidents saw the relationship between government and religion differently; each thought and acted in surprising ways not always in harmony with their private beliefs. What united them, says Church, was a deep commitment to the nation’s welfare as they defined it. This civil religion, grounded in Protestant moral convictions, often took distinctive form, e.g., Washington lashing out at clerical interference in government and James Madison declaring four national fast days. The issues roiling their day were not ours, but they were equally fraught and equally unresolved. Church, who’s too severe and present-minded about John Adams, makes clear that the tangled historic links between religion and politics were built into American history from the start and are unlikely to be dissolved. This is an important work that delights and informs. (Sept.)

After 9/11, Atlantic Monthly correspondent and bestselling author Kaplan (Balkan Ghosts) spent five years living with U.S. troops deployed across the globe. He first reported on his travels in 2005’s Imperial Grunts, an incisive and valuable primer on the military’s role in maintaining an informal American empire. In this shrewd and often provocative sequel, Kaplan introduces readers to more of the soldiers, marines, sailors and airmen who staff the empire’s forward outposts. Although the author’s travels take him to Iraq, he spends most of his time with “imperial maintenance” units that are training indigenous troops, protecting sea lanes and providing humanitarian relief from Timbuktu to the Straits of Malacca. Kaplan clearly admires the American troops he meets, though he sometimes questions their civilian masters. He saves his harshest judgment for his fellow journalists, whose relentless criticism of anything less than perfection amounts to media tyranny, in his view. Kaplan sees the war on terror and “the re-emergence of China” as the U.S.’s two abiding challenges in the 21st century and argues that, after Iraq, the military will seek a smaller, less noticeable footprint overseas. Kaplan combines the travel writer’s keen eye for detail and the foreign correspondent’s analytical skill to produce an account of America’s military worthy of its subject. (Sept.)

MacKinnon, a former Moscow bureau chief for Toronto’s Globe and Mail, explores the theory and practice of “managed democracy” in this well-researched and engrossing investigation into post-Soviet politics. While Putin cements power in Russia by co-opting now independent neighboring countries, pro-democracy advocates—including the likes of George Soros, as well as familiar organizations like Freedom House—work with the American government to support Western-oriented movements and political parties in the region. Focusing on the Commonwealth of Independent States and other formerly Soviet-influenced states such as Serbia and Slovakia, MacKinnon chastises both democrats and authoritarians for their actions. While officially nonpartisan, Western organizations make no secret of their allegiances and goals, he shows. For example, the U.S.-Ukraine Foundation, which received extensive support from U.S. taxpayer-funded USAID during the Orange Revolution of 2004, is run by the wife of Ukrainian president Viktor Yushchenko. In a recent Ukrainian election, he notes, a number of foreign (mostly Canadian) poll watchers “had to be asked to remove orange Yushchenko scarves so as to at least maintain the appearance of neutrality.” MacKinnon’s provocative book will interest anyone concerned about the possibilities and shortcomings of democratic change and popular revolution. (Sept.)

Forensic anthropologist Bass nicely complements his memoir, Death’s Acre, with this unnervingly cheerful collection (ably co-written by science journalist Jefferson) of case studies and anecdotes from the field of corpse identification. With careful attention to detail and the occasional darkly humorous aside, the authors describe charred maggot cocoons; the grotesquely dismembered victims of a fireworks factory explosion; and the forensic uses of sonar, scanning electron microscopes and computer databases. Disparaging “the CSI effect” on jurors who expect DNA testing to be quick and exact,Bass extols the virtues of old-fashioned legwork and gut reactions, though he’s always quick to admit when his methods and intuition fall short. The authors keep the narrative flow moving nicely, and Bass’s voice is practical, passionate and eminently Southern—and his decades of teaching experience at the University of Tennessee come through strongly in such helpful suggestions as “If you decide to murder somebody, don’t think that you can completely cover your tracks with fire.” Strong-stomached readers who like to get dirt under their nails will gladly follow the UT forensic anthropology team up mountains and into rivers as they put names and faces to long-decayed bodies. 16 pages of b&w photos. (Sept. 4)

How did Homer’s marvelous epics, the great Greek tragedies and early Greek philosophy introduce the birth of consciousness and record its development? Through tiresome and pedestrian readings of the Iliad and the Odyssey, the plays of Sophocles, Aeschylus and Euripides, Danish literary critic Zeruneith attempts to answer these questions. He concludes rather simplistically that Homer’s account of Odysseus’ use of the wooden horse to win the Trojan War demonstrates the use of strategic reason, rather than brute physical force, and the development of a focus on the inner life rather than the body. Later Greek writers develop Homer’s insights about Odysseus’ mind through poetry (Sappho) and tragedy (Sophocles and others). According to Zeruneith, the turn inward develops most fully in the philosophy of Empedocles, Pythagoras and the Pre-Socratics, culminating in Socrates’ singular focus on reason as the definitive virtue. On balance, Zeruneith offers tired insights about Greek literature, and his thinly spun argument loses its way in his torturous retellings of the stories. (Sept.)

Two sections are illuminating in this slight discussion of how 9/11, and political manipulation of that event, has made Americans paranoid. In one, psychologist Stout (The Myth of Sanity) provides neurological and psychodynamic perspectives on trauma. In the other, she looks at paranoid moments in American history (though, curiously, without any mention of Richard Hofstadter’s seminal book on that subject) and at the “limbic wars” being waged by “fear-mongering” political leaders. Stout also helpfully includes 10 ways to recognize such manipulators of our anxiety: for example,“Fear brokers are secretive, and are certain that other people, too, are keeping dangerous secrets.” But Stout devotes far more space to collective trauma than to the personal kind, in which she has professional expertise, assuming a unified national consciousness; she speaks in overly broad terms about what “we” feel, about “our paranoia” and about what “you” believe (“You were red or you were blue”). Finally, her suggestions for “how we can reclaim our courage”—which boil down to “[s]triving to be calmer, more aware, and more rational”—are too vague to be helpful. (Sept.)

The Flynn Effect refers to data the author studied indicating “massive IQ gains” in the developed world during the 20th century. Now Flynn speculates on the cause for these apparent gains. His answer centers on the replacement of concrete, experience-based thinking by abstract scientific thinking. Citing many scholarly works, Flynn paints a dynamic picture of what intelligence is and the role of a person’s genetic background, physiology and neurology, immediate environment and broader social factors. He notes, for instance, that an individual’s “small genetic advantage” can be multiplied greatly by environmental forces. An important chapter looks at a fatal consequence of IQ inflation: the use of outdated IQ tests and norms could lead to the execution of someone convicted of a capital crime who by today’s standards is mentally disabled. Flynn’s book is not always an easy read, given abstruse statistical analysis and some awkward writing (“There is some evidence that members of Congress are less obtuse today at least in speeches designed for their peers”). Despite these flaws, he has produced an impressively multidimensional and often wise look at the elusive topic of human intelligence. (Sept. 21)

Vongerichten is a culinary adventurer, and for those cooks eager to expand their own horizons, this is a welcome record of the chef’s passion: the food of Thailand, China, India, Vietnam—indeed, all of Asia—passed through the filter of his inimitable creativity and classic French training. Featuring recipes for the food he serves at his Asian fusion restaurants—Spice Market, Vong and the recently closed 66—these recipes are not for the timid or the time-pressed, but they do open a world of exciting tastes to those cooks willing to put in the time. Requiring an augmented pantry (food sources are suggested by the author) and a taste for sometimes unfamiliar flavors, the recipes are clear and results worth the effort. Crunchy Potato Salad includes radishes, chili, vinegar and just a little sugar in a lively alternative to common oil- or mayonnaise-based dressing. The recipes in the appetizer chapter are the most complicated, requiring a minimum of 10 ingredients and eight or nine steps. But further along, Beef Brisket with Onions and Chile, representing, he says, his own “Alsatian-Jewish-Chinese... roots and the things I love,” is simple and offers a piquant surprise. Among the many virtues of this book is how quickly the cook will use that nam pla sauce that’s been loitering in the fridge for years. The recipes offer a new perspective to the jaded palates of Western cuisine. Photos throughout. (Oct.)

Rex-Johnson, a food and wine writer from Seattle, has created what she calls “a love letter” to the Pacific Northwest, riding the wave of place-based cookbooks. One may not be able to dine at the Herbfarm, in Woodinville, Wash., for instance, but Rex-Johnson allows home cooks to recreate the restaurant’s Sea Scallops with Spiced Carrot–Dill Sauce. Better still, she realizes that some of the simplest and most delicious fare is what winemakers serve to their friends and families. She calls it “vineyard cooking,” and she has persuaded many of its practitioners to offer up their favorites. Most charming are her stories of leisurely and convivial meals spent at the table with her subjects, such as the hearth-baked pizza she shares with Bob Betz of Betz Family Winery. The book is organized by region, and the dishes are eclectic—don’t expect to find things according to course—and each is offered with a wine pairing, usually a varietal. Unfortunately, the recipes are laid out a bit confusingly, with ingredients in a sidebar, and often split over two pages, but the book is comprehensive, and the recipes are appealing and not overly fussy (Oct.)

This all-purpose, accessible book provides great information in a visual, easy-to-find-in-an-instant format. More than 550 recipes—appetizers through desserts—are illustrated by 1,000 helpful photographs that effectively demonstrate techniques in addition to showing finished dishes. The opening section covers everything from where to find ingredients in a grocery store to the method for cutting up a pineapple or to chop nuts. Recipes are all labeled with a skill level range from absolute basic to more inventive (but still simple); there’s a straightforward Guacamole a couple of pages away from Avocado-Feta Salsa; and basic French Toast right before Stuffed Croissant French Toast. The editors anticipate questions and either answer them on the page with the recipe (with the Herbed Leek Gratin, for example, is an explanation of “What’s a gratin?”) or direct them to the location in the book where a technique or ingredient is described, via an “Ask Mom” box on the bottom of each page. (A box on the Herbed Leek Gratin page points to answers for “What is a leek? How do I prepare leeks? How do I snip fresh herbs?”) It’s a great resource for beginner cooks. (Oct.)

Brooks and Goldstein (Raising Resilient Children) note that a key component of resiliency is self-discipline. It’s so essential, in fact, that the authors devote their new text entirely to fostering its development in children. They begin by pointing out that discipline is a teaching process. A disciplinarian, they state, is not a parent who punishes or intimidates, and the goal is not to produce compliant, obedient kids. Rather, the objective is to keep children safe, help them learn self-discipline and become responsible for their own actions and choices. The authors reveal that spanking and other authoritarian methods work against this process. As an alternative, they offer a number of approaches parents can take to instill self-discipline and help children appropriately control their own lives, such as offering choices, letting kids come up with solutions and giving positive feedback. The authors employ a series of detailed case studies to illustrate (regrettably, these are tediously heavy-handed and needlessly drawn out). Still, the book provides practical tools for creating healthier families and self-disciplined kids. Parents who are weary of nagging and threatening will no doubt welcome the authors’ tried and true tactics. (Sept.)

Schulman and Birnbaum, early childhood educators and directors of the 92nd Street Y Nursery in New York City, have distilled their extensive knowledge to create this indispensable primer for parents of preschoolers. Starting with the premise that parents today face more pressures than ever, the authors admit that getting a child into preschool can be an angst-ridden hurdle. The “atmosphere of competitiveness” is one of the most significant changes they’ve witnessed during their combined 59 years in the field, with as many as 10 applicants for every available space at some of the more prestigious preschools, and a formal application and interview process that makes parents understandably anxious. The authors note that there are many viable preschool choices that will provide youngsters with an opportunity to access the five core learning experiences of preschool: separation, being part of a group, socialization, independence and routines. The first section is devoted to the preschool experience, and the authors gently guide parents through an average day, covering such topics as how to deal with separation issues or how to react when a preschooler comes home with a drawing that resembles a brown blob. Ample attention is given to the etiquette of play dates and sundry mysteries of the preschool universe. Discussions of bedtime, meals, discipline, toilet training combine to make this a practical and comprehensive resource. (Aug.)

Pediatric psychiatrist Shannon, former president of the American Holistic Medical Association, and coauthor Heckman make the sobering observation that if the rate of increase in the use of childhood psychiatric medications continues at its current pace, within a generation half of all American children will be on some kind of psychiatric drug. Shannon argues that physicians are overdiagnosing and misdiagnosing a number of disorders, most notably ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder), creating an undesirable doctor-diagnosis-drug cycle. Shannon lists six external forces or “brain stressors” that can affect a child’s emotional and behavioral health (relational, nutritional, familial, environmental, educational and traumatic). He explores how emotional and cognitive brain growth are interrelated, outlining the elements needed for optimal brain development such as a safe and secure home life, love and touch, and proper nutrition. He also casts a critical eye on the educational system and what he believes is a one-size-fits-all, didactic approach. Claiming that labels can cripple rather than liberate, Shannon presents a convincing case for digging deeply into a child’s nutritional needs, sleep habits, home and school environment and other underlying issues before turning to meds. (Aug.)

Conner, author (Everyday Opportunities for Extraordinary Parenting) and host of the popular public radio program The Parent’s Journal, offers more than 700 ideas for play without plugs, batteries or beeps in this imaginative collection. Conner points out that electronic play has a number of drawbacks—contributing to the rise in childhood obesity and isolation, and limiting creativity—while “unplugged play” builds strong bodies, helps kids forge friendships and expands the mind. In an effort to get back to the basics of play, Conner began collecting and inventing hundreds of games, then tested them on groups of children ages one to 10. The author divides the book into three sections—for toddlers, preschoolers and the six-to-10 set—with subsections on solo play, parent and child, playing with others and birthday parties. She covers a wide range of activities, from noodle necklaces to toddler basketball with a laundry basket, including indoor and outdoor play for rain or shine, with clear instructions as well as discussions of safety issues. Child development experts such as Fred Rogers and Benjamin Spock have emphasized the significance of play; Conner has taken her sources at their word and produced a fun-filled compendium likely to become a dog-eared resource for parents seeking whimsical yet practical ways to unplug the electronics and promote the physical, cognitive and emotional benefits of plain, old-fashioned play. (Aug.)

Wong, a naturopathic doctor and nutritionist, suggests that a healthy liver is the key to managing weight. She believes that a liver overburdened by a fatty, salty, sugary diet is unable to fulfill its role metabolizing fats, proteins and carbohydrates; absorbing vitamins; breaking down unwanted compounds; and removing chemicals from the blood. According to Wong, almost every malaise imaginable—from a craving for sweet, starchy or fatty foods and difficulty losing weight to stress headaches, depression, rashes and body odor—can be blamed on an overworked liver. To that end, she delivers a program designed to promote optimal liver function. Foods that are recommended include whey and flaxseed, more cruciferous veggies (e.g., broccoli and kale), antioxidizing fruits and vegetables (blueberries, beets and garlic) and lean and organic meats and eggs. Certain fish, fructose sweeteners, most dairy products and heavily processed foods are verboten. Keeping a food journal, exercise and relaxation, and detoxifying your home are encouraged. Shopping lists, detailed meal plans, what to order when dining out and a section of liver-friendly recipes fill out the plan. The advice is sound, and a focus on detoxifying the liver is the detail that sets this book apart from other health and diet books. (Sept.)