Nonfiction Reviews: Week of 4/21/2008

Wood takes aim at E.M. Forster’s longtime standard-bearer Aspects of the Novel in this eminently readable and thought-provoking treatise on the ways, whys and hows of writing and reading fiction. Wood addresses many of the usual suspects—plot, character, voice, metaphor—with a palpable passion (he denounces a verb as “pompous” and praises a passage from Sabbath’s Theater as “an amazingly blasphemous little mélange”), and his inviting voice guides readers gently into a brief discourse on “thisness” and “chosenness,” leading up to passages on how to “push out,” the “contagion of moralizing niceness” and, most importantly, a new way to discuss characters. Wood dismisses Forster’s notions of flat or round characters and suggests that characters be evaluated in terms of “transparencies” and “opacities” determined not by the reader’s expectations of how a character may act (as in Forster’s formula), but by a character’s motivations. Wood, now at the New Yorker and arguably the pre-eminent critic of contemporary English letters, accomplishes his mission of asking “a critic’s questions and offer[ing] a writer’s answers” with panache. This book is destined to be marked up, dog-eared and cherished. (Aug.)

With the same ambitious sweep and needle-in-history’s-haystack approach of his previous tome on tobacco, Gately takes on all things alcohol. From absinthe to Jay-Z’s boycott of allegedly racist Cristal, from Mayan pulque to Pilsner Urquell, he covers the history and the culture of the medicinal and mind-altering product that since at least 8000 B.C. has been part of human civilization. The book’s first chapters chronicle the history of fermentation and distillation from early civilization through the late Middle Ages, before the narrative’s bulk gives over to alcohol’s story since the colonization of the New World. Gately touches on such minutiae as the tableware and music selections onboard the expedition ships that followed Raleigh to America and an exacting chronology of laws enacted to ban the sale of alcohol to Indians. He ecumenically includes historical information from every civilized continent; yet for a book on booze, it’s at first drier than straight gin, definitely for those who like their history neat. Like a good party, however, it becomes livelier as the author works in such far-flung cultural materials as the plays of Alfred Jarry and Budweiser’s ’80s mascot, Spuds McKenzie. In the end, Gately ranges so wide and deep that this may become a classic reference on the subject. (July)

English writer Blackburn (Daisy Bates in the Desert) had two extraordinary parents, poet Thomas Blackburn and painter Rosalie de Meric. Her utterly doting father, who’d sit on the toilet seat and recite poetry with her when she bathed, eventually died of the alcohol and pill addictions that fueled his adult life. Both parents entertained long lists of lovers. After they separated, Julia (who was born in 1948) lived mostly with her mother, who painted heavily symbolic nudes and ethereal landscapes, and the young “boarders” her mother was forever trying to seduce. As Julia grew older, Rosalie worried that her pubescent daughter was becoming more enticing; enraged, she’d goad Julia into flirtations and then accuse her of spoiling Rosalie’s romances. Julia steered clear of most of her parents’ sexual nonsense, except for a significant affair with one of her mother’s ex-lovers that ended with his suicide. Using excerpts from her own journal, snippets from her mother’s papers and her father’s poetry, Julia gradually came to terms with something her father told her, that “we chose our parents” so “we must forgive them, if we are to forgive ourselves.” Her father wasn’t the problem—as bizarrely as he behaved, she’d never “felt threatened” by him. Instead, it’s her mother’s endless anger that’s the vortex of this strangely compelling memoir. (July)

Overshadowed by more flamboyant or tragic Olympics, the 1960 Rome games were a sociopolitical watershed, argues journalist Maraniss (Clemente) in this colorful retrospective. The games showcased Cold War propaganda ploys as the Soviet Union surged past the U.S. in the medal tally. Steroids and amphetamines started seeping into Olympian bloodstreams. The code of genteel amateurism—one weight-lifter was forbidden to accept free cuts from a meat company—began crumbling in the face of lavish Communist athletic subsidies and under-the-table shoe endorsement deals. And civil rights and anticolonialism became conspicuous themes as charismatic black athletes—supercharged sprinter Wilma Rudolph, brash boxing phenom Cassius Clay, barefoot Ethiopian marathoner Abebe Bikila—grabbed the limelight while the IOC sidestepped the apartheid issue. Still, we’re talking about the Olympics, and Maraniss can’t help wallowing in the classic tropes: personal rivalries, judging squabbles, come-from-behind victories and inspirational backstories of obstacles overcome (Rudolph wins the gold, having hurdled Jim Crow and childhood polio that left her in leg braces). As usual, these Olympic stories don’t quite bear up under the mythic symbolism they’re weighted with (with the exception perhaps of Abebe Bikila), but Maraniss provides an intelligent context for his evocative reportage. Photos. (July)

Despite an intriguing premise, Ellis-Bell’s memoir of adopting an obstinate parrot fails to capture the spirit of either the bird or her owner. A literary agent living in rural California with her husband, Ellis-Bell already had a menagerie that included dogs, cats and even a family of raccoons living under the deck. But her life changed when she brought home a one-footed blue and gold wild-caught macaw named Peg Leg. Rechristening her Sarah, Ellis-Bell soon realized that despite her love of animals, she had no idea how to care for such an ornery creature. Sarah soon had the run of the house, climbing furniture and stealing the dogs’ toys and bones. Even though Sarah refused to be touched, she and Ellis-Bell soon bonded and Sarah would follow the author from room to room like a puppy. The decision of whether or not to allow Sarah to fly free outdoors was an agonizing one for Ellis-Bell, and its consequences were monumental. Prone to repetition, Ellis-Bell moves through Sarah’s life in strict linear fashion that too soon feels episodic. That said, Sarah is a delightfully mischievous creature the reader grows to love as Ellis-Bell did. (July)

According to the authors of this optimistic assessment of the global energy crisis, the current gluttonous dependence on nonrenewable fossil fuels is merely an ecologically ruinous interlude between “energy ages.” In the authors’ decidedly long view, mankind survived for centuries without much need for oil, coal and natural gas—although humans were using all three in limited fashion as early as 3000 B.C., petroleum was first pumped from a well in Pennsylvania only in 1859—and can do so again. The Hoffmans argue that as technology improves efficiencies, solar fields, wind farms, geothermal drilling and biomass crops will replace fossil fuels as energy sources, a process driven as much by economic self-interest as by pressure for a more sane environmental future. They dismiss both the hydrogen economy and corn-based ethanol as unfeasible energy sources, but suggest that an African weed, jatropha, has the potential to turn “that poverty-stricken continent into the Saudi Arabia of biofuel.” Accessible and surprisingly entertaining, this informed overview of available paths to relatively pollution-free energy resources is a level-headed primer on the world to come. (July)

With this account of the East St. Louis, Ill., race riot, “the deadliest of a series of devastating racial battles that swept through American cities in the World War I era,” Barnes (Blue Monday) chronicles one of the devastating assaults on African- American communities across the nation that culminated in the Red Summer of 1919. Barnes’s account of the 1917 riot is a tale of labor unrest as blacks were used as strikebreakers, of the power of rumor, of corrupt local politics, of the ineffective (when not complicit) response of police power (local and military) and of sickening savagery. Barnes is attentive to the role of the press, citing both the national and black press, but he focuses most sharply upon two St. Louis Post-Dispatch figures, Paul Y. Anderson and Carlos Hurd. Between their dispatches and the “military and congressional hearings in the aftermath of the riot,” Barnes offers a nearly block-by-block, minute-by-minute account, solid in reportage, pedestrian in the telling, useful to students of American and African-American history and accessible to the general reader. (July)

The 13 academic and public intellectuals convened in this collection of essays on geopolitics agree on some things: the importance of American leadership; the desirability of free trade; the threats posed by global warming, Islamist radicalism and nuclear proliferation; the ineptitude, if not criminality, of Bush’s foreign policy. But there are significant points of contention. Should America assert its military power independently or work through global institutions and international concerts? Should it promote democracy abroad or back stable autocracies? Is the nation-state essential or irrelevant? The contributors run the gamut from hawks like James Kurth—who wants America to be a “Boss of Bosses” and “ruthlessly devastate” its opponents—to doves like Francis Fukuyama, who endorses “foreign policy as social work.” In thought-provoking pieces, David Kennedy calls for a draft lottery to dispel an incipient “American Caesarism” facilitated by the professional military, and Niall Ferguson throws a contrarian curveball asserting the impossibility of fighting a pre-emptive war against terrorism. There’s not much ideological coherence, but there is plenty of lively debate and rich food for thought. (July)

Hogan, director of public affairs at the Art Institute of Chicago and a “recovering art historian” with decidedly urban sensibilities, set out on a road trip to visit the most significant works of land art in the American West and to make an experimental “assault” on her fear of solitude. Hogan’s journey in her Volkswagen Jetta began with Robert Smithson’s Spiral Jetty by the Great Salt Lake; in eight more chapters she documents her visits to Michael Heizer’s Double Negative in Nevada, Walter De Maria’s Lightning Field in New Mexico, failed attempts to find Nancy Holt’s Sun Tunnels and James Turrell’s Roden Crater, along with stops in Moab, Utah; Juárez, Mexico; and Marfa, Tex., “the contemporary art pilgrim’s mecca.” Hogan’s pilgrimage, sparsely illustrated, is part well-informed art historical travelogue and part light foray into self-discovery; her prose is lucid, energetic and expressive, and she is an affable guide. But this narrative does not convincingly convey the depth of her interior journey or the aesthetic insight that Hogan sought to experience. 26 b&w photos, 1 map. (June)

Art quilts have long since moved from covering beds to hanging on walls, and this collection of 40 artists’ works, gathered and introduced by Sielman—executive director of Studio Art Quilts Associates and an art quilter herself—is ample evidence why. Ranging from the United States and Canada through Europe to Israel, South Africa, Japan and New Zealand, these quilters show the beauty and imagination of fine art and a vast variety of styles and materials. Noriko Endo’s forests look like pointillist paintings, while Susan Shie’s pieces are reminiscent of Lynda Barry in the density of image and hand-lettered words. Pamela Allen recycles beads, safety pins and sewing machine bobbins in Crone of Crazy; Wendy Huhn’s surrealist dreamscapes include vintage fabrics and stenciled images. Each artist is represented by 10 works, some with details, as well as the artist’s comments on inspirations and the works’ meaning; many refer to the layering of fabric as a form of layering time, the opposite of what archeologists do. While it’s sometimes difficult to see all the texture of these quilts in flat photographs, the wealth of color and pattern is worthwhile in itself. Color photos throughout. (June)

In an experimental narrative for an academic historian—blending some fiction with solid facts—Hatcher, of Cambridge University, offers a “literary docudrama” that looks at the lives off ordinary people during the Black Death that devastated Europe in the 1340s. Focusing on the English town of Walsham de Willows, Hatcher helps readers understand the deep terror that prevailed, including rumors of “awful omens, including rains of frogs, serpents, lizards, scorpions, and venomous beasts.” He describes the plague itself, which caused coughing up of blood, carbuncles and boils on the neck, underarm and groin, and death in a few days. Especially affecting are accounts of the psychological agonies of those who, in a deeply religious age, saw their often delirious relatives die without proper confession. Finally, Hatcher notes the socioeconomic upheaval wrought by the plague, including poor people unexpectedly inheriting land from relatives killed by the plague, and a severe labor shortage as a third of Europe’s population was wiped out.. While a glossary would have been helpful (will readers know what a “rood” of land or a “heriot” is?), this is a fine work that gives an intimate sense of the Black Death’s horrors. Maps. (June)

James (The Music of the Spheres) tells the gritty and sad story of Joe Slowinski, a flamboyant and well-known herpetologist who died in Burma in 2001, aged 38, from the poisonous bite of a krait snake. Different snakes—from the first black rat snake he encountered at age five to the cobras on which his professional success was built—anchor different phases in Slowinski’s life, as James paints a portrait of a man filled with ambition, intelligence, passion and recklessness. The account of the expedition into an unexplored region of northern Burma is chilling—it “set a new standard of misery” for scientific expeditions. After Slowinski was bitten by the krait, he was kept alive for 30 hours, through his companions’ heroic efforts, with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. But the snake’s potent neurotoxin did its work, and Slowinski died deep in the jungle. In the end, this book is both a tribute to Slowinski’s spirit and scientific accomplishments, and a cautionary tale about the dangers of an overly passionate ambition. 8 pages of color and 8 pages of b&w photos. (June)

Duke University geneticist Goldstein was part of a team that did groundbreaking, headline-making research on Jewish genetic history. Goldstein clearly and succinctly explains such concepts as “haplotypes” and “genetic drift” as he reviews such findings as that more than half of contemporary Cohanim, or priests—traditionally believed to descend from the biblical Aaron—actually share a genetic marker called the Cohen Modal Haplotype. Among other subjects, he also explores evidence consistent with the claim of the obscure Lemba tribe of southern Africa to be descendants of ancient Israel. Lastly, in taking on a 2005 study of a group of so-called Jewish genetic diseases—such as Tay-Sachs—and their putative evolutionary connection to high intelligence among Jews, Goldstein notes that this hypothesis is easily testable but firmly rejects “pseudoscientific genetic determinism.” Goldstein’s role in much of the research into Jewish genetic history, his sober, unsensationalist tone and his emphasis on the limited conclusions that can be drawn from such work lend credibility to his account of his stunning results. (June)

The title of New Yorker contributor Preston’s new collection refers to the subject of his bestselling The Hot Zone: a series of rooms in a government biohazard laboratory where scientists work with virulent pathogens like the Ebola viruses that would be devastating in the hands of terrorists. The essays (all from the New Yorker) cover such scientific matters as a profile of controversial über-genome mapper Craig Venter; a gene that leads people to cannibalize themselves; and two Russian-Jewish émigré scientists who built a monster computer in their cramped apartment to puzzle out patterns in the value of pi. Preston’s essay on the destruction of large swaths of eastern U.S. forests by insect parasites accidentally brought into the country from abroad is the shortest but most compelling. Preston might have done more to update his pieces; for example, the Marburg virus was found in bats last year, supporting his hypothesis that they are the reservoir for Ebola. But Preston’s fans will enjoy his showing how few degrees of separation there are between far-flung areas of scientific endeavors. Illus. (June)

Gardner, a columnist and senior writer for the Ottawa Citizen, is both matter-of-fact and entertaining in this look at fear and how it shapes our lives. Although we are capable of reason, says Gardner, we often rely instead on intuitive snap judgments. We also assume instinctively, but incorrectly, that “[i]f examples of something can be recalled easily, that thing must be common.” And what is more memorable than headlines and news programs blaring horrible crimes and diseases, plane crashes and terrorist attacks? In fact, such events are rare, but their media omnipresence activates a gut-level fear response that is out of proportion to the likelihood of our going through such an event. It doesn’t help that scientific data and statistics are often misunderstood and misused and that our risk assessment is influenced less by the facts than by how others respond. Gardner’s vivid, direct style, backed up by clear examples and solid data from science and psychology, brings a breath of fresh air and common sense to an emotional topic. (June)

In 1995, when Rome Prize–winning poet and fiction writer Manguso (Siste Viator) was a junior at Harvard, she suffered the first attack of a rare autoimmune disease called CIDP, which would turn her body against itself. CIDP attacks the myelin coating of the peripheral nerves. The result is increasing numbness, followed by paralysis spreading from the extremities inward, until the sufferer can no longer control his or her breathing, and dies. In short, lyrical chapters—the book free-associates between memories, while sticking to a rough chronological order—Manguso recounts the harrowing indignities of her treatments, frequent relapses, descents into steroid-induced clinical depression, crucial college sexual experiences had and missed, and trips back and forth between schools, hospitals and her parents’ Massachusetts home. What makes this lightning-quick book extraordinary is not just Manguso’s deadpan delivery of often unthinkable details, nor her poet’s struggle with the damaging metaphors of disease, but the compassion she acquires as she comes to understand her pain in relation to the pain of others: “suffering, however much and whatever type, shrinks or swells to fit the shape and size of a life.” (June)

This emotionally potent collection of 20 essays by noted Bay Area poet Shurin (Involuntary Lyrics) begins with a meditation on his fear of birds (“of course they’re dinosaurs”) and coming out in radical UC-Berkeley in the late 1960s. The collection progresses through meditations on how the difference between Shakespeare’s Oberon and Puck shaped his identity as a gay man and a poet, and his indebtedness to Robert Duncan, Frank O’Hara and Denise Levertov. The accumulation of biographic and literary details conjures up an apparitional dreamscape of a very specific moment in American history—a new sense of personal and literary freedom, a new period of progressive political and literary ideas. Shurin’s idiosyncratic style can startle with its imagery and captures a complicated, conflicted relationship to several cultural identities. Describing his anxiety about his looks before going to a bar, he writes “oh, my wiry, independent, shtetl hair, my Ukrainian ribbons from my mother’s side, folkloric bonnet of curls, was out of the question, way too heavily accented, ruefully unacceptable, untidy, un-Californian....” The author addresses forthrightly the question of AIDS by the end of this book, one of Shurin’s best. (June)

In the early morning of April 27, 1984, outside Medford, Ore., 18-year-old Billy Gilley bludgeoned his parents, Bill and Linda, and his 11-year-old sister, Becky, to death. He believed his act would allow him and his 16-year-old sister, Jody, to free themselves from an abusive home. Comprising extensive interviews with both Jody, a Georgetown graduate and victims’ rights advocate, and Billy, serving three consecutive life sentences in Oregon, Harrison recounts the trial, where Jody was the prosecution’s star witness, and attempts to understand the Gilleys’ troubled family history. Despite differing accounts from the now estranged siblings on the severity of their parents’ abuse, it’s clear that both parents routinely engaged in verbal and physical cruelty. Billy claimed his murder of Becky was unintentional, but it sealed his fate. Novelist and memoirist Harrison (The Kiss) attends admirably to detail, and her dissection of the effects of violence on both perpetrators and victims is thorough. But by bookending the account with musings on her incestuous relationship with her own father—already addressed in both her fiction and nonfiction—Harrison dilutes the power of the Gilleys’ story. (June 17)

The November 1939 Soviet invasion of Finland provoked worldwide outrage. Astonished at the Finns’ fierce resistance, observers made comparisons with the valiant Greek defense of Thermopylae. In his first book, journalist Edwards delivers a lively, opinionated account of this half-forgotten but major war. After swallowing up nearby Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia, Russia required Finland to cede territory near Leningrad and in the far north and to grant several bases. The Finnish government balked. Thereupon massive Soviet forces, dreadfully led, poorly trained and scandalously ill equipped for the Arctic winter, stumbled forward into a massacre. Despite lack of heavy weapons, the Finns were brilliantly led by Baron Carl Mannerheim, who had also commanded during Finland’s independence battle against the Bolsheviks in 1918. Moving on skis, they took advantage of the long northern night to attack, spreading panic. But after 105 days and immense casualties, the Soviets forced the overstretched Finns to yield and surrender 10% of their territory. Governments joined their citizens in cheering the Finns, but did little else. Edwards recounts events, both shameful and heroic, with insight, conviction and considerable wit. (June 5)

Pulitzer Prize–winner Hedges (War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning) collaborates with journalist Al-Arian in this slight polemic that investigates “the suffering of Iraqi civilians” at the hands of American troops. With the help of groups like Iraq Veterans Against the War and Veterans for Peace, the authors identify and interview 50 combat veterans—their methodology, however, is noticeably flawed: their sample is too small and their selection process is skewed toward critics of the war. Interviewees like Sgt. Camilo Majia, who was court-martialed for desertion and given a bad-conduct discharge, are allowed to relate not only eye-witness but also secondhand accounts. Broad allegations implying that “most troops” are complicit in murdering unarmed Iraqis or that it is “standard” practice to plant weapons on murdered civilians go unchallenged, while the authors point to “a culture of terror and hatred among U.S. forces” for whom abusing civilians has become “a kind of perverted sport.” However admirable the authors’ aims, their selective and biased interpretation of events might disappoint readers looking for a more objective analysis. (June)

Washington Post reporter Dobbs (Saboteurs) is a master at telling stories as they unfold and from a variety of perspectives. In this re-examination of the 1961 Cuban missile crisis face-off between the U.S. and the U.S.S.R., Dobbs combines visits to Cuba, discussions with Russian participants and fingertip command of archival and printed U.S. sources to describe a wild ride that—contrary to the myth of Kennedy’s steel-nerved crisis management—was shaped by improvisation, guesswork and blind luck. Dobbs’s protagonists act not out of malevolence, incompetence or machismo. Kennedy, Khrushchev and their advisers emerge as men desperately seeking a handle on a situation no one wanted and no one could resolve. In a densely packed, fast-paced, suspenseful narrative, Dobbs presents the crisis from its early stages through the decision to blockade Cuba and Kennedy’s ordering of DEFCON 2, the last step before an attack, to the final resolution on October 27 and 28. The work’s climax is a detailed reconstruction of the dry-mouthed, sweaty-armpits environment of those final hours before both sides backed down. From first to last, this sustains Dobbs’s case that “crisis management” is a contradiction in terms. (June 5)

This well-intended book is an enjoyable exercise in wishful thinking. Historian Troy of McGill University (Morning in America) plays the part of pundit by arguing that moderate presidents have always served the U.S. better than others. Americans are centrists at heart, he says, tracing the ups and downs of national consensus through the Bush administration. Yet Lincoln, one of Troy’s heroes, wasn’t moderate when it came to secession—he refused to compromise. Troy’s definition of “best presidents” is also open to debate. Does “best” mean most effective or most conforming to Troy’s centrist hopes? The author may think he’s swimming in fresh waters, but instead he’s offering a venerable American prayer for tranquil and harmonious government. The founders themselves deplored partisanship. And while Troy claims to roam over all American presidential history, he picks and chooses his early subjects, then deals with every president since FDR. Nevertheless, he makes his case in as robust a fashion as possible. That his history is stronger than his argument doesn’t detract from the pleasure of the work. (June)

In an ambitious and expansive narrative, Klein (Rainbow’s End: The Crash of 1929) chronicles the advent of steam power and the electrification of America. Klein’s descriptions of the science of steam power, beginning with James Watt, and electricity are clear and detailed. He is especially strong when exploring the confounding engineering feats needed to make electricity a commercially feasible commodity. The heart of the book is the collision of entrepreneurs, inventors and financiers, and the epic battle between two icons of American industry, Edison and Westinghouse, to control and profit from the electrification of America. Along the way Klein brings dramatically to life the triumphs and disappointments, both human and technical, as the fledging electric companies sought to service American homes and businesses. In a well-written and satisfying account, Klein makes readers aware of the magnitude of the energy, genius and tenacity of not only Edison—whose development of the world’s first power station in 1881 on New York’s Pearl Street was a momentous accomplishment—but also of Westinghouse and many others whose discoveries and vision made cheap electricity possible. B&w illus. (June)

The U.S. Supreme Court’s recent hearing of arguments in District of Columbia v. Heller—which may overturn the capital’s ban on handguns—signals a general re-evaluation of the Second Amendment. The trend is toward an unlimited individual right rather than a restricted, collective one applying only to government militias. Halbrook, a research fellow at the Independent Institute in California, is firmly of the former school and investigates the nature of the ideas underlying the Second Amendment during the Revolutionary generation (between 1768 and 1826). How did the founders regard the issue of gun control? What prompted them to define the right to bear arms as fundamental, second only to freedom of speech? Basing his research on contemporary newspapers, political resolutions and private correspondence, Halbrook delves deeply into the importance of firearms during the Revolution, finding that attempts by search-and-seizure to control the flow of guns was regarded as the typical tyrannical behavior of a standing army. Liberty hinged on free ownership. While readers might disagree with some of Halbrook’s historical interpretations, his book should be welcomed as a timely introduction to this most contentious of debates. (June)

Kinzer (All the Shah’s Men) has penned a hagiographic account of Rwandan president Paul Kagame, the Tutsi refugee who organized the Rwandan Military Front in 1994 and helped halt the genocide in Rwanda. Instead of settling scores, Kagame embarked on a program of reconciliation and reconstruction; Kinzer eloquently describes a physical and psychological recovery unmatched in Africa: a Rwanda whose people are “bubbling with a sense of unlimited possibility.” Kagame’s goal, modeled on the successes of “Asian tigers” like Singapore, aims to transform Rwanda into the continent’s first middle-income country in a single generation, eschewing foreign aid in favor of reliance on business-driven development. Kinzer does not conceal the bloody realities behind Kagame’s acquisition of power nor does he deny Kagame’s “rigorous, absolutist approach to governing.” Nevertheless, he is transparently trusting in Kagame’s capabilities and intentions, and while his eloquent prose invites optimism, a half-century of experience urges caution. (June)

Jones (Black Haze) uses Barack Obama’s presidential campaign to launch a fascinating and well-researched exploration into black leadership in America. The author is thoughtful and balanced in his assessment of the changing nature of black leadership—from W.E.B. Du Bois to Martin Luther King Jr. and Jesse Jackson—and in his evaluation of the challenges facing the black community’s newest generation of leaders. In dense, academic prose that often encumbers his analysis, Jones contextualizes the Obama campaign as he documents the troubled state of politics in black America, illustrating the enduring effects of slavery and segregation and charting the burgeoning influence of modern megachurches, hip-hop culture and BET. Although Jones raises more questions than he answers, this book makes a compelling case for black leaders to re-examine, augment and sometimes discard old approaches and methods. Jones lucidly enumerates the challenges, choices and limitations Obama will face as he attempts to win the presidency, and provides a level of racial analysis and exploration that is almost entirely absent in the mainstream media. (June)

Schweizer (Do as I Say [Not as I Do]) expands his critique of modern American liberals to contend that “liberalism not only leads to social decay, but can also lead to personal decay.” Drawing upon polls and psychological studies, the author argues that “conservatives work harder, feel happier, have closer families, take fewer drugs, give more generously, value honesty more, are less materialistic and envious, whine less... and even hug their children more than liberals.” Schweizer is noticeably silent on current affairs; instead, he focuses on the culture wars of the 1990s, demonstrating how Clinton “lied... and did so in a fine fashion,” that Al Gore has also “told lies” and that the Clinton administration was “notable for its tolerant attitude toward drugs.” Schweizer refrains from making substantive commentary on the upcoming election; he spends more time attacking Garrison Keillor, for whom he reserves a special distaste. The readable prose and vigorous defense of Republican voters ensure that this book—despite its dated material and lack of analysis of the current campaign—will rally and rouse conservatives. (June 3)

Griffin (The New Pearl Harbor), a 9/11 “truth advocate,” continues to explore the internal inconsistencies in the official version of the events of September 11, plumbing statements by the Bush administration for contradictions. Did President Bush race home from Florida immediately after hearing of the attacks? Yes, maintain officials. No, claim Griffin’s sources; Bush dawdled for half an hour before making an unhurried drive to the airport. Most chapters concern matters of similarly modest importance, but readers will receive a few jolts. Could America have foreseen 9/11? Absolutely not, Bush spokesmen repeat—but Griffin quotes officials, security experts and military leaders who warned of terrorists commandeering planes. Was bin Laden responsible? Readers will be surprised by Griffin’s finding that conclusive evidence is still pending; U.S. officials submit that bin Laden’s prior orchestration of attacks is proof enough, but today bin Laden is on the FBI’s 10 Most Wanted list for directing several terrorist attacks—but not for 9/11. Although readers might be wont to dismiss this book as pure conspiracy theory, it succeeds as a searing and close reading of the events of September 11. (June)

In this uneven critique of mainstream and socially “conscious” rap and hip-hop, McWhorter (Losing the Race) pillories the genre for positioning itself as a political—even revolutionary—medium. In the author’s analysis, hip-hop is typified by narcissism rather than altruism, a culture of complaint rather than creative solution and a willful blindness to the real problems affecting black communities; McWhorter demonstrates how frequently artists rail against police brutality and how few mention HIV/AIDS, the single biggest killer of African-Americans. The author’s admiration for the genre generally keeps his criticisms from sounding shrill, but it cannot compensate for the book’s flaws. While McWhorter lambastes rappers for failing to address “real” issues, he doesn’t either: like the hip-hop artists he chides, the author romanticizes activism while appearing clueless about the nuts and bolts of grassroots work. Equally troubling are McWhorter’s unsubstantiated theories, chief among them his claim that African-Americans are more inclined to judge a statement by how it sounds than what it communicates. More interested in skewering hip-hop than suggesting paths to substantive social change, this book ultimately frustrates more than it illuminates. (June)

In this moving meditation on palliative care, Halifax tells a story about a dying Zen teacher who confesses to his students: “Maybe I will die in fear or pain. Remember there is no right way.” This sentiment forms the core of a book that provides practical and philosophical guidance to caregivers. Drawing on her 30 years of experience in the “contemplative care of the dying,” Halifax honestly enumerates the challenges of being with the dying while exalting it as “a school for unlearning the patterns of resistance... [it] enjoins us to be still, let go, listen, and be open to the unknown.” According to Halifax, “bearing witness to dying” can teach innumerable lessons to the living—assuming “we give up our tight control strategies, our ideas of what it means to die well.” Halifax is a Zen priest, and while many of her teachings derive from Buddhism, her supremely readable book will attract readers of all faiths who will appreciate her clarity and compassion and the poignancy of these stories of ordinary people facing their final hours with quiet courage. (June)

Few are likely to quibble that “Thou shalt not illegally download copyrighted media files” doesn’t have quite the solemnity or clarity of “Thou shalt not steal.” Howard and Korver invite readers into ethics’ gray areas and guide them in developing a personal ethical code hardy enough for the most ambiguous situations. The book presents a four-part plan to become aware of “ethical temptation and compromise,” the fundamentals of ethical logic and using ethics as an avenue to a happier life. The authors successfully tease out the prudential, legal and ethical dimensions of actions—however, readers might become frustrated with the lack of conclusive instructions. Furthermore, while the putative goal of the book is to assist readers in constructing their “personal code,” the sample models presented are so rife with inconsistencies that the book contributes to more ethical confusion than clarity. While the very nature of ethics acknowledges the varying shades of gray, a bit more black and white when it comes to ethical guidance might lead to a more satisfying read. (June)

Marketers have always honed in on women, the primary household consumers, but charitable and political organizations have long been less savvy. Target women to garner donations or votes, urge Witter and Chen; female consumers and citizens are not a niche audience but the audience to reach and win over. Women’s economic clout grows larger every year, and though they tend to be distrustful of the political process, they vote in large numbers and can tip elections. They are also characteristically altruistic, volunteering more significantly than men and contributing to twice as many charities. Since word of mouth is strong among women, women who care about a particular cause will bring in more contributors. The authors present their material efficiently and engagingly, tackling the motivation—both social and neurological—behind women’s contributions and interest, and the methods to appeal to them, from news media to online. Bolstered with helpful “chapter takeaway” lists and concrete examples of companies that have successfully reached the female audience, Witter and Chen have crafted a thoughtful, helpful guide to nonprofit marketers. (June)

Mortensen (Maximum Influence) draws on Howard Gardner’s research on multiple forms of intelligence and Daniel Goleman’s Emotional Intelligence to introduce his concept of “PQ”—the specialized intelligence required for the art of persuasion. While the book is primarily geared toward marketing and sales professionals, the author argues that the inability to command influence is a universal personal and professional dilemma; he makes a compelling case that teachers, social workers, parents and spouses can benefit enormously from the “respect power” that accompanies finely tuned people skills. Mortensen invokes great communicators from Confucius and Thoreau to corporate CEOs to present PQ’s key components (“the five C’s of trust”: character, competence, confidence, credibility and congruence) and rewards (more sales and fruitful negotiations, higher incomes, happier relationships). Sections on mirroring and other nonverbal persuasion techniques are especially fascinating, and the author’s emphasis on developing self-knowledge as a crucial ingredient will inspire readers to determine their “purpose and passion.” Mortenson’s insights are enriched by anecdotes, humorous illustrations, a persuasion IQ test and an accessible step-by-step structure. Simultaneously useful and entertaining, this book is a thought-provoking examination into developing a vital talent. (June)

According to GQ senior editor Rapkin, today’s lively collegiate a cappella groups boast hip-hop repertory, professional vocal arrangements, competitions at Lincoln Center and a world shrunk by the Internet. During the 2006–2007 college season, Rapkin, an alum of a Cornell all-male singing club, followed three a cappella powerhouses: Divisi, an all-girl group from the University of Oregon, the testosterone-driven Hullabahoos of the University of Virginia, and Beelzebubs, from Tufts. Each is a collective with a score to settle, a tradition to honor. Robbed of a championship in 2005, Divisi wants payback; the Hullabahoos want respect without forfeiting their frat-boy charm; and the controversial Bubs want to hone their edge. Throughout, Rapkin engages with celebrity trivia (Heroes’ Masi Oka sang a cappella at Brown) and music criticism. He profiles the cottage recording industry built from college a cappella. Most notably, he riffs through signature events and crisis moments with a snarky humor (onstage Divisi looks like “the women in that Robert Palmer video”) that turns each chapter into a picaresque progression toward graduation. (June)

This Old House meets The Money Pit in journalist Giffels’s search for an affordable home. The Giffels family settles on a run-down, soon to be condemned early–20th-century mansion, but when he arrives at the mansion to begin his work—aided eventually by scores of workers—he finds leaks in several areas of the roof, crumbling brick, dry-rotted wood, warped floors, vermin droppings and nests, as well as a beautiful old staircase, a fireplace in the bedroom and gorgeous brass hinges and other fixtures. Convinced that he can recover the former glory of this house with a little elbow grease and perseverance, Giffels sets out on his mission—fueled by the strains of R.E.M. and the Clash—to renovate the house one room at a time. Giffels fights a losing battle as he seeks to remove squirrels, mice and a raccoon from his abode—his attempt to scare away squirrels from the attic by using an electric guitar is especially amusing—and he discovers that every victory carries with it a failure somewhere else. Sometimes humorous, Giffels’s memoir comments sadly on one man’s stubbornness and selfishness (even his wife’s miscarriages don’t stop him from his work) in his quest to make a house a home. (June)

In this light biography of Siegfried and Roy, the authors note that the entertainers kept their intimate lives private, leaving little for would-be biographers to reveal. Jim Mydlach, the duo’s security officer for 25 years, his son Louis Mydlach, Roy’s bodyguard after the tiger mauling in 2003, and Jim Lavery, longtime show consultant, pad their account with collateral material—the rise of the big Vegas hotels, Siegfried and Roy’s various homes, parks and animal purchases, the vogue for “white” wild animals, the construction of a dolphin attraction at the Mirage and Liberace’s sexual proclivities. Occasionally, they include actual Siegfried and Roy gossip, but it’s in a coy, wink-wink voice: “Insiders say beefcakes, not cupcakes, trigger their sexual appetites.” While the authors try for a balanced narrative, it comes to light at the end that two of the authors have significant problems with their subjects. Louis sued Siegfried over his treatment of Roy, and Lavery sued Roy after he manipulated Lavery’s lifelong girlfriend into ditching him. This isn’t a comprehensive study of the work of Siegfried and Roy, but fans will still have fun with it. (June)

After introducing his infant daughter to TV, Variety editor and author Hayes (Open Wide: How Hollywood Box Office Became a National Obsession) begins to wonder how the $21-billion preschool market—TV shows, DVDs, CDs and tie-in toys–works behind the scenes. He sets out to question the experts, including honchos at Nickelodeon and CTW, as well as entrepreneurs such as Julie Clark, whose brainchild was Baby Einstein. Hayes gives a nod to the American Academy of Pediatrics recommendation of no screen time for children under two, but also notes that only 6% of parents are aware of it. He learns, too, that there has been no government research to study preschool media use. Raised on Mr. Rogers and Sesame Street in a pro-TV family (his father worked in the biz), Hayes doggedly follows the paths of such heavy hitters as Dora the Explorer and Blues Clues, dissecting their appeal and pondering the merits of TV for the very young even while continuing to let his daughter tune in. While one pundit notes, “The content on television... can open windows and widen horizons for children who otherwise don’t have those experiences,” the effect is eerily chilling when Hayes’s newborn son tilts his head toward the screen. (May)

This globe-trotting collection from the Seattle-based cookware chain Sur la Table uses cooking equipment as its inspiration. Authored by Simmons, who writes for Food & Wine and Cooking Light, this book recognizes that having “the most suitable tool” is critical to fun and successful food preparation. In the opening chapters, Simmons outlines the basic items a home cook should stock, like a peeler and whisk, before moving on to more sophisticated tools, e.g., a karahi (an Indian wok) and mattone (an Italian terra cotta press). From there, the book is organized by implement: a recipe for a chef’s torch, for example, is Roasted Asparagus and Tomatoes with Bubbling Mozzarella; a pommes anna pan produces, well, Pommes Anna with Herbs and Mushrooms. The recipes appeal to a new cook with their precision, so homemade crepes or fresh sushi will seem accessible, especially with the most suitable tool at hand. (May)

Iyer (The Turmeric Trail) makes the enormous spectrum of Indian curry dishes enticing and accessible in this hefty tome, bound to be a must-have for lovers of Indian cuisine. Cooks already familiar with this food will be inspired as they cook through its pages. The term “curry” encompasses a vast range of dishes, and Iyer has uncovered the best from the subcontinent’s many regions and cultures, working his way from Goa (chicken in coconut milk sauce) to Kashmir (hearty braised lamb shanks in broth), Calcutta (tilapia in yogurt sauce), Kerala (spinach in pigeon pea-coconut sauce), and everywhere between. The largest chapter features an extraordinary selection of curries using India’s rainbow of legumes, but Iyer includes meat, cheese, fish and vegetable curries, plus appetizers and snacks, biryanis and elegant rice variations and breads. Access to a well-stocked Indian grocery is vital, but past that hurdle Iyer makes the recipes quite approachable thanks to his chatty introductions, many thoughtful preparation tips and helpful ingredient glossary. (May)

Priebe’s passion for grilled pizza is illustrated in his first cookbook, in which he shares recipes from the Atlanta grilled pizza restaurant he ran for years. Also included are recipes for piadinas (which he describes as folded Italian sandwiches) salads and desserts. He has adapted his recipes for the home cook and explains how they can be made on outdoor grills (charcoal or gas) as well as indoor grills of all kinds—from cast-iron skillets to panini presses. His detailed, step-by-step instructions on rolling out dough, building the dishes and physically putting them on the grill are easy to follow and are accompanied by color photographs. His pizza recipes, broken down into meat, chicken, seafood and vegetable varieties, are fun and innovative—smoked sausage with honey mustard and coleslaw, chicken and plantain with coconut sauce and crab with orange and beet salad, to name a few. Recipes for piadinas (made with grilled unleavened flatbread) and salads are less inspired but still enticing such as the PAT piadina, with pancetta, arugula and tomato, and escarole salad with lemon. Sweet and satisfying dessert recipes call for both pizza and piadina dough, and are grilled versions of traditional favorites like the apple tart and Grasshopper Pie. (May)

This beautifully illustrated compendium offers readers a culinary tour of Italy from the Alpine region down to Sicily. Each region-specific chapter offers an overview of local culinary delicacies, along with wines and a few highlighted ingredients, such as capers or bottarga. The authors point out the infinite specificities within each locale, such as the Vialone rice of Po, the unsalted bread of Tuscany or the emphasis on legumes in Apulia. The 220 recipes range from rustic, hearty fare like a simple chickpea and shrimp soup to artful, hand-folded tortelloni with potato and speck filling or a delicate peach gelatin with Moscato sauce. Recipes assume some level of familiarity, such as what it is to render fat, but they are straightforward and reliable, sometimes including illustrations for each step. (May)

Woven together with lifestyle and entertaining tips, this cookbook by Slatkin, a Culinary Institute of America–trained chef, was inspired by her family’s hotel, Shutters on the Beach, a 200-room beachfront luxury resort in Santa Monica, Calif. The recipes are appealing enough and easy to follow, but aren’t particularly inspiring, beach-worthy or portable, with the notable exception of Peanut-Butterscotch Crunch Bars and Iced Nougat with Honey and Figs. By dividing the recipes into different types of weather—Sunny Days, Cloudy Days, Balmy Nights, Stormy Nights, Misty Mornings—the author seems to be trying to squeeze the four seasons into a temperate climate in an attempt to broaden the book’s demographic reach. But the distinctions seem somewhat arbitrary: why is a lemon tart for a cloudy not sunny day? Cucumber Gazpacho might be nice for a hot day at the shore, but a Grilled Chicken Club Sandwich with bacon and mayonnaise probably wouldn’t be a good idea in the heat. The lifestyle tips, while sometimes obvious, are more on target. “Pool Perfect” includes suggestions for how to make your home pool seem like one at a fancy resort with thoughtful amenities such as scented towels and undiluted iced drinks, while “Six Uses for a Bucket of Sand” offers creative suggestions for bringing the beach indoors when the weather outside is uncooperative. Photos. (May)

Brown takes the intimidation factor out of baking with easy-to-follow recipes while entertaining with his upbeat and casual writing style. The former lawyer and bakery owner, fulfills the promise to take readers on a “tour of how and why I bake cakes,” weaving his personal journey that led to sugar and flour as the tools of his career. Chapters include those featuring types of cake (pound, butter, foam), as well as sections on frostings and glazes, fillings, meringues and cake assembly. The fun and informal recipes, such as Sassy, and Mr. Banana Legs, consist of clear, numbered steps and are accompanied by informative headnotes. Full-color photos illustrate step-by-step techniques and showcase the cakes that are chockfull of appeal with their less-than-perfect appearance and convey the author’s philosophy that baking shouldn’t be an uptight endeavor; as long as a cake is homemade, it deserves respect. (May)

This straightforward look at “the dos and don’ts of good fathering” should be handed out to all men as they leave the hospital with a newborn son. Bernstein draws on years of experience as a clinical psychologist focused on family therapy to thoroughly explore what he calls “the father trap”—men who are “drawn to fatherhood by their desire to out-father their own dads” after they become parents, only to realize that “they have no idea how to go about being different.” Using many real examples of conflicts faced by his patients, Bernstein makes convincing arguments on a range of fatherhood issues, from explaining how new dads have to confront the legacy of their own often conflicted feeling about their own fathers to detailing specific ways to “Take steps to get involved in your son’s life.” Bernstein’s writing style is fairly simple but not simplistic, and he is consistently enlightening whether he’s discussing the importance of baby talk or showing how dads can best deal with a teenager’s interest in pornography. He concludes with a list of “Top Ten Fathering Tips” (“10. Never tell your son to 'suck it up.’ ”) that all dads should memorize. (May)

Frost, star of ABC television’s Supernanny (and author of a book by the same title) has no formal training, but viewers and readers alike eagerly tune in to her commonsense advice on parenting, and no doubt this latest effort will be well received by her followers. Frost focuses on the first year of life, addressing the concerns that arise in three-month intervals as a baby grows. Noting that she began her 17-year career by caring for newborns, the author presents her softer side, discarding the professorial glasses and stern expressions of earlier book covers. But this nanny still is fond of order; she includes charts for sleep routines (“no catnap before bedtime”), feeding and weaning schedules. Frost offers useful tips about preparing the nursery, buying equipment and dealing with emotional issues such as postpartum blues. No surprise, when it comes to help after baby arrives, Frost observes, “If you can afford it, nothing beats the one-on-one home care a nanny gives.” For those who don’t have a nanny in the budget, this book—written in the confident yet caring tone Supernanny fans adore—will serve as a “live-in” readers can keep by their bedsides. (May)

With brisk efficiency, Stack (Leave the Office Earlier) breezes through 21 factors affecting the energy or capacity to perform the myriad duties, obligations, responsibilities and activities of daily schedules. In an appealingly simple format, Stack breaks these factors into three categories: physiological (including diet, nutrition, sleep, exercise and metabolism), practices (attitude, relaxation, time management, etc.) and periphery (environment, relationships and stress level), and guides readers through three weeks of replacing “energy bandits” with corresponding “energy boosters.” Her health advice focuses on maximum results in little time; her cures for major energy drains (cigarettes, caffeine, electronic devices, workaholism, perfectionism and procrastination, for example) are practical, and her perspectives on stressful home and workplace relationships are refreshing. She helps readers distinguish between status quo tasks and more fulfilling ones that move them forward, and makes a strong case for focusing rather than multitasking. While her “just do it” approach may not work for everyone, it just might help many clear a path to realizing their dreams. (May)

Dahlstrom, a Seattle pastor and international speaker, is an original and welcome evangelical voice of reason who offers skeptics and Christians alike compelling advice on living out their faith, Jesus-style. Where, he asks, is Christians’ passion for Christ? Do their beliefs make any substantive difference in their daily lives? In 1984, Dahlstrom realized that his own spiritual well was dry, so he moved with his wife to an island where he learned to “breathe” again—effectively balancing inhalation (prayer, solitude, Sabbath rest, Scripture study and contemplation) with exhalation (service, outreach, hospitality and generous giving). In this book, he gives Christians tools to achieve spiritual balance by integrating these inwardly and outwardly focused spiritual practices. Dahlstrom’s tenderness is deeply stirring, as is his tough stance in confronting modern believers’ unwillingness to follow in Jesus’ stead by serving sacrificially, reaching forth in love and spilling out their lives for others. Dahlstrom’s approach balances gentle compassion with fierce assessments of problems in the church today, making this an excellent guide to soul renovation. (July)

This sprightly introduction to the seven deadlies—and sin in general—is reminiscent of such mid–20th-century authors as J.B. Phillips and C.S. Lewis in its clear presentation, measured conversational tone and often startling analysis. Sin, says Tomlin, is not so much “breaking the rules” as “destructive habits” that isolate us from others. Looking at each of the traditional mortal sins in turn, Tomlin, principal of St. Paul’s Theological Centre in London, describes not only the behavior (“if greed is the desire to be rich, pride is the desire to be richer than everyone else”) but also its downside (envy “is the one sin on the list that has no pleasure in it whatsoever”). In addition, Tomlin suggests ways to overcome each sin. Gluttony, for example, is best challenged by observing Christian fasts, “to remind us that food needs to be kept in its place,” and feasts, “to remind us that food is a very good thing.” A potential classic, this little import may nevertheless annoy non-Anglophilic readers by its markedly British spellings, terminology and design. (July)

Anthropologist LeVine, who has observed family interactions in Asia, Latin America and Africa over the course of decades, recounts how faith and superstition influence the daily life of the vibrant people she has met. “My focus is always on my characters’ need for religious faith and the uses they make of it,” she writes. With her “observing eye” and boundless curiosity, LeVine describes how witchcraft, Buddhism, spirit possession, charismatic Christianity and the Virgin Mary help people make sense of their lives and endure the hardships they encounter. Vivid descriptions and sympathetic portraits are this book’s strengths, while the author’s treatment of religion sometimes tends toward the superficial, addressing religion primarily as solace. LeVine (who coauthored Rebuilding Buddhism with David Gellner) is reticent about her reactions to the practices she witnesses and doesn’t always reveal when the events occurred, thereby omitting vital clues about political and cultural contexts. Still, this is compelling ethnography, and much of the book serves as testimony to the vulnerability of women in developing countries. (June 18)

The city is a challenge for any spiritual life. The frenetic pace of activity—which is the motor that drives most of its inhabitants to live there—leaves little obvious time for the quiet a soul needs. Heidish, sometime novelist and here a spiritual memoirist-cum-theologian, sees the city not as an obstacle but a boon to life with God. Those moments most of us fume at waiting for a light to change, in a crowd cursing the red hand of the crosswalk? What a moment to pray—for those with whom one is suddenly in unplanned communion. Storefront churches, people in need and quiet corners of parks and gardens are all oases of grace, which we need to enter regularly in order to be fully ourselves. The book reads fluidly, especially for those at once drawn to and repulsed by cities. Heidish’s memories of growing up in Manhattan include a physician father ready to set out at a moment’s notice for a house call. He was too sophisticated for faith, until he wasn’t, growing frailer and more faithful. His story becomes a sort of icon for the spiritual maturity for which Heidish lovingly calls. (June 17)

Piyananda, a Sri Lankan Buddhist monk who came to America decades ago, tells simple stories about people with problems he has counseled in the course of his tenure at a Theravada Buddhist temple in Los Angeles. The problems are common: anorexia, gambling, anger, illness. The simplicity of his storytelling belies the depth of his knowledge of Buddhist sutras, which he invariably applies in resolving whatever problem is presented to him. But he is a student of human nature as well as scripture. His school of Buddhist practice spends relatively less time on meditation, leaving time to encounter problems with compassion and to work on cultivating virtuous conduct. The author’s tone is both cheerful and compassionate; he is the kind of clergy one would hope to find at every church, temple or mosque. Some Buddhist students will wonder where the focus on enlightenment went; others will find refreshing proof of the power of compassion and of the wisdom of the Buddha for daily life and its vicissitudes. (June 10)

Readers already familiar with Black as a loud-mouthed regular on The Daily Show will be delighted to find he rants just as well on the page as he does in person. Here, he homes in on religion, which he thinks is taken too seriously and therefore is “open to ridicule.” Black may not care a whit about propriety, but he’s serious about waxing comedic about every religion-related angle he can dig up. No one is safe from his dark humor—the Catholic Church, Mormons, people who commit suicide in the name of faith, Jews, and of course Jesus and God are popular topics. Black’s essays consistently deliver zingers, like his speculation in “The Rapture” about how, “If Jesus returns to earth... he better have one hell of a website,” since he’d have to compete with all the “drug-addled young starlets”—not to mention online porn. For those not easily offended, who can stomach the F-word every other paragraph or so, Black’s irreverence is laugh-out-loud funny. The chapters are short, some extremely so, and perfect for a good laugh—before bedtime prayers, of course. (June 3)

Sayers, an emerging church pastor in Australia and director of the young adult discipleship ministry Über, focuses on what sociologists have termed “hyperreality”—the happy, carefree, better-than-real life that advertising promises us. Sayers believes that this vision of life, in which acquiring more is a central motivation and personal fulfillment is paramount, has become a folk religion of sorts in the Western world and is the single biggest threat to Christian faith. In his experience, when young adults buy into this vision of life, satisfaction and happiness elude them. They begin to question God, although faith is the only path to true happiness. The book is broken into three sections examining the hyperreal world, the reality we live in and God’s reality. It grew out of an address of the same name; Thomas Nelson released a related DVD curriculum and study guide in February. The title is obscure, and Sayers’s negativity about the culture is almost endless, but the book’s comprehensive examination of the challenges consumerism presents to faith is unique and should spark meaningful discussion. (June 3)

While it seems paradoxical to oppose religion to belief—religions, after all, are systems of beliefs; and belief in deities, ritual practices and scriptures combine to form religions—Carse convincingly demonstrates that belief and religion are too often falsely linked. Belief, he suggests, is a response to ignorance. Carse examines three kinds of ignorance: “ordinary” ignorance is simply lack of knowledge of some kind, such as the weather in Africa. “Willful” ignorance purposefully avoids clear and available knowledge, such as Creationists acting as if they know nothing of evolution. The tenacious beliefs that grow out of willful ignorance often result in bloody religious conflicts. Finally, what Carse calls “higher” ignorance accepts the fact that no matter how many truths we accumulate, our knowledge falls infinitely short of the truth. Individuals acting in higher ignorance can recognize the many truths that religious traditions can offer. Seen in Carse’s provocative way, religion transcends the narrow boundaries established by beliefs, and transforms our ways of thinking about the world. (June 2)

Rollins possesses the freshest theological voice of the emerging church movement. The leader of an ecclesial community called Ikon that meets in pubs in his native Northern Ireland came out of nowhere with his How (Not) to Speak of God in 2006, where he made the tools of postmodern philosophy accessible to nonspecialists. That book’s virtues are again on display: clarity (rare enough for an academically trained philosopher), wit and playful, counterintuitive readings of Christian scripture. He argues that the most faithful response to Christianity may be Judas’s betrayal of Jesus over against fundamentalists who would violently defend Jesus and academics who would imprison Jesus. Rollins paints with an overly broad brush—not every theologian since Descartes has been boxed in by his categories. At times an academic degree would be helpful to understand his use of Zizek or Nietzsche. All the same, Rollins puts postmodern philosophy to work for those trying to rethink their faith for a new day without stifling modern categories. Even those who disagree will find the pages turning themselves. (June)

Shortly after the 9/11 attacks, a driver rolled down his window and shouted to Bruce Springsteen, “We need you—now!” A few days later Springsteen appeared as part of a telethon to help victims’ families, and not long after released The Rising, with “Into the Fire” as a tribute to the lost firefighters. It wasn’t the first or last time America would need the Boss—his support kept the Vietnam Veterans of America from disbanding, and his social critique since 9/11 has been loud in its protest of the Iraq War. According to Symynkywicz, Born in the USA is not only Springsteen’s greatest album, it represents the ambiguity of his gospel, his lover’s quarrel with an America he loves and fumes against. Symynkywicz explores these theological and political questions with the deftness of a Harvard-trained minister and a great Springsteen fan. He has clearly pored over these lyrics, multilayered as they are, and sifted them through a theological filter. At times he offers a bit too much detail. Other times you’ll want to stop reading, turn on the Boss and dance in the dark, maybe even praying while you do. (June)

“Home is where the heart is” would be a good tag line for this collection of sage, prayerful advice from Franciscan author Haase. Our true home, posits the author, is with God, and yet Christians continually ramble off to unhealthy environs, much like the Prodigal Son in the New Testament. To counter this tendency, Haase prescribes a “contemplative approach to life” as a way to reclaim the grace of the present moment. He sprinkles examples through the book of people who have sought his spiritual counsel in desperate moments. These help bring his simple but wise spiritual maxims to life. Human beings have the potential to act out of anger and self-centeredness, but also hold a profound capacity for forgiveness, love and compassion. This is Haase’s main point—that we can always return home to a loving God who desires us, and that we need not stay on a path of poor choices and dead ends. Especially helpful are the practical suggestions he compiles about modes of prayer and spiritual direction. (June)

Ward, an Oxford theologian specializing in the history and philosophy of religion, presents an impressively insightful and well-balanced survey of major questions for science-and-religion dialogue. Ward takes on a wide range of topics, reasoning that if God is “the ultimate cause of absolutely everything—we might think that the existence of God must make some difference to how things are.” The beginning and end of the universe, the origins and nature of consciousness, and human religious experience all become contact points for discussion between scientific and religious perspectives. Writing as a scholar of world religions, Ward discusses multiple traditions at a level of depth and detail that exceeds the normal standards of the science and religion literature. Atheist and agnostic perspectives also receive a fair hearing, recognized as parties to the conversation rather than merely as rhetorical foils. Throughout, Ward shows a keen ability to recognize variations and distinctions within traditions, while still drawing helpful generalizations such as his conclusion that “to believe in God is primarily to believe in the objectivity of value and purpose.” (June)

Pursuit of tzedek (justice) takes many forms, and Alpert, among the first women to be ordained as a rabbi and current chairperson of the religion department at Temple University, addresses everything from sexuality, gender and race to war, peace, poverty and the environment under tzedek’s capacious umbrella. Throughout this concise introduction, Alpert attempts to show how progressive Jews are reshaping questions about activism and justice. While quick to remind readers that among two Jews there will always be at least three opinions, she manages to cover a wide range of perspectives—biblical, historical, political and personal—with a surprising amount of depth, in a very small space. Replete with introductions (and resulting acronyms) to an array of organizations, movements and leaders within the ever-growing progressive community, this is as much a primer to progressive Judaism for both Jews and Gentiles as an inspiration for just living in the 21st century—whether that means treating our neighbors, our environment or even our enemies well. (June)

When Rhodes (The Soul at Rest) set out to write this book, she anticipated extensive time in prayer through long retreats and walks on the beach. It seems God had other plans: her grown son and his young family moved in, and solitude was suddenly quite thin on the ground. This, says Rhodes, is all too common and is in fact the point: we need to find ways to weave spiritual practice into lives already crammed with obligations. Like Denise Roy in My Monastery Is a Minivan, Rhodes uses short chapters to explore the idea that spirituality can and should be achieved within the context of the lives we actually lead, not the simpler ones we fantasize about. Can’t find an hour for your daily “quiet time”? Try praying for five minutes, or even just one. Seize moments of silence amid the chaos; use the weekly Sabbath to more fully absorb God’s restfulness; practice a regular fast. Rhodes capably draws on her own experiences and on Protestant, Catholic and Orthodox traditions to advocate small, realistic steps on the path to holiness. (June)

In this unexpectedly delightful (if juvenile) little book, two Bible professors and a journalist unpack some of the more outrageous interpretations of the Hebrew Bible, focusing on juicy tales of sex, dysfunctional families and body parts. What if Eve was not made from Adam’s rib bone but, as one biblical scholar has suggested, his penis bone? (Don’t laugh this theory away until you’ve read the chapter.) Despite taking on serious questions of biblical interpretation and Hebrew translations, the authors maintain a tongue-in-cheek demeanor as they address questions like “Did Abraham pimp Sarah?” “Did Ruth and Boaz have a roll in the hay on the threshing floor?” and “Was Joseph a cross-dresser?” (Answers: yes, maybe, and probably not.) One chapter proposes that the assassin Ehud (Judges 3) escaped King Eglon’s rooftop after murdering him by slipping down through Eglon’s latrine. Some of the authors’ conclusions are a stretch, but it’s always in good fun. This is perfect bathroom reading, and PW means that in the best possible way. (June)

Tibetan scholar Thurman paints a splendid portrait of the Dalai Lama and masterfully elucidates the 50-year-old conflict between Tibet and China in this timely analysis. The author presents an eloquent introduction to Buddhism and the Tibetan concept of the Dalai Lama before focusing on the current “living embodiment of the Buddha”—a man born as Tenzin Gyatso—the 14th Dalai Lama. Thurman sympathetically renders his lifelong friend as a “simple Buddhist monk,” a teacher, philosopher, scientist and the political representative of the Tibetan people, who has achieved renown for holding together a large refugee community and preserving its culture. Promulgating a “common human religion of kindness,” the Nobel Peace laureate lobbies for a peaceful resolution to the question of Tibetan autonomy within China, while espousing love, altruism and spirituality as the forces that will lead mankind into a “kinder, happier twenty-first century.” The book concludes with a five-step plan to broker peace between Tibet and China—an agenda simultaneously pragmatic and idealistic, demonstrating truly the talent and power of faith. (June)

Two publishers are trying to make two supremely successful books even more so.

Releasing five years after cardiologist Agatston’s South Beach Diet hit the shelves, initiating a megamillion-dollar franchise (cookbooks, a dining guide, meal replacement bars, frozen foods, etc.), this “supercharged” version of the plan guides readers into a healthy lifestyle for the long haul. While the first book focused on ending cravings and losing and maintaining a healthy weight, here Agatston introduces a 20-minute-a-day fitness regimen, developed with exercise physiologist Signorile and Pilates instructor Kris Belding. The two-part workout—interval walking (cardio) and total body (core)—geared to boosting metabolism and preventing plateaus, works in three phases in conjunction with the diet and can be adapted to different fitness levels and conditions. An overview of Agatston’s philosophy on optimal nutrition, a recap of the diet, detailed daily fitness routines, tips on exercising efficiently, sample meal plans and simple recipes (Moroccan lemon chicken; maple-almond flan) are among the many features that make this appealing, accessible volume a worthwhile update on the original. Photos. (Oct.)

Murkoff is back with yet another edition of the indispensable What to Expect When You’re Expecting—this time with a largely rewritten and revised edition of the comprehensive guide she introduced 24 years ago. The book has undergone an extensive overhaul, beginning with the cover, which depicts a stylish expectant mom dressed in jeans and a form-fitting shirt—a far cry from the original text’s comfy, frumpy mom seated in a rocking chair. Inside, the author has added a number of new features, including a chapter that draws upon current research to steer parents-to-be to a healthier lifestyle even before conception begins, chapters on healthy eating and giving birth to multiples (a growing trend) and expanded sections on working during pregnancy. While the general layout and appearance of the book will be familiar to readers, Murkoff has successfully broadened and sharpened the material while keeping the overall style and presentation intact. (Apr.)