Nonfiction Reviews: Week of 5/26/2008

Army wife and first-time author Seligman plumbs the depths of depression and despair in this frank memoir of coping with her husband David's deployment to Iraq. Besieged by feelings of abandonment, anger and resentment, the author panics when confronted with the “burdensome” responsibility of being a single parent, dealing with soiled diapers and her daughter's separation anxiety. When her husband re-enlists without consulting her, she feels betrayed and her despair intensifies until she learns to “function like a robot.” David's homecoming does not spell relief; the author continues to feel “dead inside” and is “unwilling to sympathize” with David's postdeployment issues: his chest pain, anxiety and nightmares. With the passage of time, the author begins to “feel normal” again and makes steady progress in “learning how to deal with” the separation inherent in military life. Despite the pervasive self-pity that suffuses Seligman's account—and a self-centeredness that might put off some readers—her memoir offers valuable insight into the often heavy and anonymous burden shouldered by military families. (Oct.)

This edited transcription of 39 hours of dialogue between the Dalai Lama and renowned psychologist Ekman addresses issues ranging from the importance of mindfulness, the evolutionary function of moods, meditative breathing and the cultivation of compassion. Ekman and the Dalai Lama are articulate, deeply serious scholars, and their investigations into “the varieties of anger,” the destructive potential of contempt and the power of forgiveness contain a wealth of fascinating insights; unfortunately, their musings would have benefited from more scrupulous editing—their pronouncements lie buried beneath conversational meandering and tangential discussions. The Dalai Lama's humor and curiosity do translate well, however, and do much in enlivening the unfocused text; he and Ekman delight in playfully invoking everything from traditional Buddhist thought to Western philosophy, Darwin, communism and personal anecdotes in a single breath. It's an intellectual treat readers will enjoy—if they can put up with the rambling transcript. (Sept.)

Keller (Lady: The Life and Times of Winnie Mandela) recounts the professional and personal identity crisis she suffered after full-time motherhood estranged her from her former career as a successful writer and left her in the shadow of her husband—New York Times executive editor Bill Keller. Drawing upon her own experience and discomfort in being “Mrs. New York Times,” the author chronicles the challenges facing seven other women in diverse professions—law, business, photography, teaching—launching their own career comebacks after devoting themselves exclusively to their children. Keller's profiles are warm, laudatory, refreshingly nonjudgmental—she honors both working and stay-at-home moms—and relentlessly honest in depicting the low confidence that paralyzes women eager to rejoin the workplace. Although Keller occasionally burdens her tales with excessive—and bland—biographical detail, her character and career sketches do shed insight into how women have rediscovered their professional identities through sheer perseverance. Women contemplating their own re-entries into their careers or into new professions will relish this book for its frankness, encouragement and practical direction. (Sept.)

In this compelling account of his “cockamamie” ecological odyssey, journalist Glave, “enthusiastic composter” and guilty SUV owner, recounts his efforts to reduce his carbon footprint by building a “green” writing studio and guesthouse adjoining his less than environmentally correct home outside of Vancouver. As irreverent as it is deeply informative, the book traces Glave's misadventures and steep environmental learning curve—he considers (and discards) elaborate straw bale and rammed earth construction schemes, navigates the intricacies of securing recovered wood and negotiating with neighbors concerned about sight lines—as he ponders how to reconcile the contradictions in his lifestyle (“I buy or pick organic, locally grown berries, then gleefully slather them with Cool Whip”) and how to inspire environmental awareness in his community without turning his neighbors defensive or his car-crazy young son into a “playground weirdo.” Costs and domestic tensions mount as Glave tears down a pricey carport, which was a gift from his conservative father-in-law, and his shed's footprint threatens his wife's cherished garden. The focus of this endearing eco-memoir is primarily on getting the dream shed built, but Glave's sensible (and sometimes caustically comic) green consciousness has real universal appeal. (Sept.)

Republican misrule and mistaken policy is the intended fulfillment of conservative antigovernment ideology, argues this scintillating j'accuse. Frank (What's the Matter With Kansas?) surveys what he regards as the hallmarks of conservative control of Washington: a government hobbled by budget deficits, disgraced by scandals, downsized, outsourced, hollowed out and sold off to corporate interests and thus made incapable of meeting its basic responsibilities. The result of this “political vandalism,” he contends, is a perverse propaganda triumph for conservatives, who point with gleeful cynicism to the shambles they make of government as proof that government can't do anything right. Frank presents a scathing recap of Republican mismanagement and corruption, from the Hurricane Katrina debacle to the depredations of Jack Abramoff, and combines it with a shrewd dissection of the theories of conservative ideologues who call for and celebrate the sabotaging of the state. Writing with a barbed wit and finely controlled anger, he skewers such juicy targets as libertarian strategist Grover Norquist and Michelle Malkin, “a pundit with the appearance of a Bratz doll but the soul of Chucky.” One of the sharpest political commentators around, Frank is required reading for every concerned citizen. (Aug.)

De Blij (Why Geography Matters) argues forcefully that “geography and destiny are tightly intertwined” in this book that challenges the increasingly popular assertion that the world is becoming “flat” due to the effects of globalization. The author, greatly influenced by his experiences as a young man in South Africa during apartheid, illustrates that the world is still strewn with the economic, political and cultural versions of mountains and oceans that separate the lucky few in the “core” from those in the “periphery,” specifically, those nations that lag behind in economic development and health care and are vulnerable to geography and environment. Using compelling data, de Blij describes how “Cruiseship Earth” is inhabited by three groups that he terms: “globals”, migrant “mobals” and “locals,” the latter, inhabiting the unprivileged periphery, who will soon outnumber the “fortunate minority” of globals, thereby presenting the world with challenges that mere globalizing economies cannot possibly assuage. This meticulous analysis of the impact of everything from religious fundamentalism to the streamlining of world languages on these three groups will serve as an indispensable primer for serious policy makers. (Aug.)

In this stunning treatise on the transnational global city, philosopher and cultural critic Kingwell (Better Living) meditates on how the architecture of the modern city must cater efficiently yet aesthetically to a combination of basic human requirements—“the cemetery within the city doubling as a park; the prison or madhouse as public architecture; the toilet within the house; the dump or recycling center within the city limits”—and how the city in turn is an extension and embodiment of human consciousness. More than 75 photos punctuate essays that meander around the poetry of porches, doorways, spiral staircases (“a line circling”) and the political implications of “generic, airport-style designs.” The book is not a travelogue; New York and Shanghai are merely stops along an intellectual walk, which also takes up geometry, boundaries, thresholds and other elements of urban design that are metaphors for the mind and body. “No room is just a space; it is always a place we are either entering, occupying, or exiting,” writes Kingwell in this book that is at once mesmerizing, indulgent, romantic, complex and perceptive. (Aug.)

Award-winning natural-history writer Fortey (Trilobite!) provides a thoroughly delightful behind-the-scenes look at one of the world's greatest natural history museums. Having spent his entire career as a paleontologist at London's Natural History Museum, Fortey is well positioned to explore all aspects of the institution. With unbridled passion and childlike glee, he wanders about the museum discovering samples collected during the voyages of Captain Cook, specimens studied by Charles Darwin and meteorites that originated on Mars. He also introduces many of the largely unknown specialists responsible for the museum's renown. But Fortey's strength is his ability to explain the importance to society of their arcane research. Indeed, he argues, this research “has never been more important at a time when humans are increasingly degrading the environment: “The great museums may harbour the conscience for the natural world, not merely provide its catalog.” Fortey offers a beautiful paean to the collections and articulately makes the case that museums are much more than mere spectacles to entertain and educate the public. 16 pages of color illus., 86 illus. in text. (Aug. 21)

Geologist Alvarez at UC-Berkeley is best known for discovering evidence of the asteroid collision that wiped out the dinosaurs (as recounted in T. Rex and the Crater of Doom). But much of his career has been spent in the mountains of Assisi, which he calls “the secret archives of Earth history.” For more than three decades, he has studied the rock formations of the central peaks of the Apennines, particularly the Scaglia limestone, where fossil evidence confirms a mass extinction 65 million years ago—and points to reversals in the planet's magnetic field. His descriptions of the local villages and countryside show flashes of tour-guide charm, and he allows himself a touch of dry humor at rare moments. For the most part, however, his tone is measured and scientific; even riding the surface of an active lava flow is recounted with an oddly dispassionate tone. But readers who appreciate Alvarez's subdued enthusiasm will find a careful unpacking of Italy's geological anomalies (with quick detours to Rome and the Alps) and an intriguing glimpse of Earth's distant past. 8 pages of color and 60 b&w illus. (Aug. 25)

In this immigrant saga, Danish historian Buk-Swienty delves into the life of one of his most famous countrymen, the photographer Jacob Riis (How the Other Half Lives), whose seminal photographs exposed the deplorable conditions of New York City's tenement housing. After an unhappy love affair, Riis (1849–1914) abandoned comfort and Denmark for poverty and America; he spent three years wandering from town to town, often on the verge of starvation, often contemplating suicide until chance employment as a journalist saved him. This skilled translation superbly demonstrates how Riis drew upon his own experiences as a newly landed immigrant in documenting tenement life and how he developed his craft without formal training or cameras adequate enough to capture images in the darkness of the slums. Buk-Swienty masterfully contextualizes Riis's crucial role in the development of investigative reporting and analyzes the various dilemmas confronting him as he shed his reporter's objectivity to become a committed reformer of socioeconomic ills. Embedded in the gritty narrative is also a touching love story—as the once-rejected Riis manages to win over—and marry—his boyhood love. (Aug.)

Say “boss” and many people think of Donald Trump throwing his weight around on The Apprentice. But is that the most effective style of leadership? Not necessarily, argue Baker and O'Malley, who posit that successful leaders accomplish more with kindness and empathy than with aggression. According to the authors, true kindness is not to be confused with weakness, indulgence or mere likability; being genuinely kind means clearly communicating expectations and goals, pushing colleagues to improve and excel and encouraging them to try out things they are uncertain they will like. The book details the hallmarks of successful and kind leaders: compassion, integrity, gratitude, authenticity, humility, honor and the importance of maintaining credibility with one's employees and clients. While the authors' emphasis on honesty and mentorship is incontrovertibly well-intentioned, the paucity of practical advice and the dry presentation are more suited to an academic article, rather than an entire book. Readers looking for a helpful guide will be inspired but ultimately disappointed. (Aug.)

According to Bayoumi (The Edward Said Reader), for most of its history, American society has paid little attention to its Arab and Muslim citizens—until the events of September 11 thrust millions of uninvolved people into a very unfavorable limelight, often forcing them to answer for the monstrous deeds of others. The author profiles seven young people for whom that day's horrors were not just a shared national tragedy but the beginning of a struggle to define themselves, as they began to face pervasive workplace discrimination and government surveillance, cultural misunderstanding and threats of violence. In many ways, his absorbing and affectionate book is a quintessentially American picture of 21st-century citizens “absorbing and refracting all the ethnicities and histories surrounding [them].” However, the testimonies from these young adults—summary seizures from their homes, harassment from strangers, being fired for having an Arab or Muslim name—have a weight and a sorrow that is “often invisible to the general public.” Says Akram, a Palestinian-American college student, “I love the diversity of this country, I really do, but the whole politics.... America's not America anymore to me.” (Aug.)

One of the world's top male models—working for Calvin Klein and Ralph Lauren, among others—Hulse describes being a “star athlete” as a teenager, before going to Cornell, where he modeled nude for art classes; discovered his first guru, Maharaj Ji; and cultivated his passion for surfing. Once he realized that modeling paid better than carpentry, he commissioned a portfolio, signed with an agency and worked every booking he was offered. Soon, top photographers like Bruce Weber were hiring him regularly. While meditation helped him stay centered, and running and surfing kept him in shape, his sexual appetite was uncontrollable; he bedded countless models. Then he ran into a woman he'd met years before, and they both knew Hulse had to stop womanizing for their relationship to work. With newfound trust, the two married and had children together—an oddly conventional ending to an otherwise exotic life story. Hulse's unabashed kiss-and-tell, plus all his photos, add up to a surprisingly entertaining memoir. (Aug.)

In this musical road trip, Petrusich (staff writer for Pitchforkmedia.com and author of Pink Moon) lights out into the country to discover what constitutes American music and the ways that it influences the music that has come to be known as Americana. Much like famed musicologist Alan Lomax—the man instrumental in introducing Delta blues to the world—Petrusich searches high and low, from Memphis and Nashville to Gainesville, Fla., and New York City for the many strains that compose the chorus of American music. In a narrative that is often humorous, Petrusich discovers the usual suspects—Lomax, Harry Smith and Smithsonian Folkways, Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger, Elvis, Robert Johnson—but pulls out most of the shopworn stories about them. Moe Asch, for instance, who started Folkways Recordings in 1948 (later bought by the Smithsonian in 1987), famously turned down both Bob Dylan and Joan Baez, saying that they were both just singers that didn't have anything to say. Asch's label was so significant to the development of American music that Dylan has since commented that, early on, he had “envisioned myself recording on Folkway Records.” For all her excursions into various regions of the country and various musical styles, however, Petrusich's conclusion that American music reflects the landscape from which it springs is disappointing. (Aug.)

For a few years following 1955, John Coltrane performed in a band led by Miles Davis; it was during this period, Griffin (Who Set You Flowin'?) and Washington (a saxophonist who teaches at Brooklyn College) remind us, that Coltrane came into his own as a saxophonist and a jazz innovator. Washington's own jazz background leads to some intricately detailed musical analysis—so detailed that without the recordings at hand, untrained readers may well find themselves at a loss. Beyond that, the thesis is thin, relying on biographical recaps that emphasize the experiential gap between Davis, whose sound was hitting its first mature phase, and Coltrane, who was still in the process of finding himself as a musician (and simultaneously struggling with drug addiction). Where Ben Ratliff's recent Coltrane: The Story of a Sound probed, this study appears to glide on its subjects' reputations. The connection between Davis and Coltrane's musical awakenings and the rise of the civil rights movement seems obvious, but is largely suggested rather than demonstrated. Similarly, a hasty closing proposition, which likens the pair to trickster gods conducting “'an epic and heroic spiritual battle,” falls flat. B&w photos throughout. (Aug. 8)

In 2005, Jain announced in a New York magazine article that she was tired of American dating and would consider an arranged marriage, an Indian tradition she had always resisted. Only mildly piqued by her parents' endearing obsession with brokering a shaadi, she had ribbed her father for writing her profiles on Indian matchmaking Web sites. In a radical return to tradition, she decides to move to her native India in search of a husband. Pondering the foibles of American dating strengthens her resolve to embrace life in Delhi, even as she adjusts to its new cosmopolitan energy and Western attitudes. Jain struggles to negotiate the security of tradition with the allure of modernity. She is flummoxed by the caste system as well as the stigmas attached to single women. Torn between “old-world” suitors and the confident, latter-day Indian male, she concedes, “Dating in Delhi is no less complicated, perplexing and ego-deflating than in New York.” Even the ad her father places in the Times of India matrimonial pages (“thirty-three years old, Harvard graduate... looking for broad-minded groom”) fails to arouse much interest. With her world-weary yet earnest voice that finds humor in humiliation, Jain is sure to delight readers. (Aug.)

Published to critical acclaim in Russia, Bibish's memoir of raw hardship and desperate courage prompted one critic to declare that it put fiction to shame. Through plainspoken, episodic vignettes—lit with flashes of wry self-awareness—Bibish, a former Moscow street vendor, divulges epic tragedy without histrionics: a grisly upbringing of abject poverty in Muslim Uzbekistan, provincial repression and victimization that proves sorrowfully apt in steeling her for life's cruelties. Gang-raped and left for dead, she returns to her family looking “as ugly and dirty as the witch Baba-Yaga,” dispelling her parents' worries with the lie that she'd been tending cows. She takes up dancing only to disgrace her village; and as a documented nonvirgin she's hard-pressed to find a husband. After fleeing to Leningrad, she returns to marry into a respectable family and eventually settles in Russia, which brings challenges both sober and silly. With innocent candor (she finds herself a “primitive savage” in the big city), Bibish effectively weaves into her understated narrative snippets of traditions and folk proverbs. (Aug.)

In this uplifting collection of profiles, Siceloff and Maloney, producers of the PBS program Now, spotlight individuals who have sparked successful community action without resources or (in most cases) any political or organizing experience. Highlighted individuals include Lucas Benitez, a Mexican migrant worker who led a movement to improve the egregious working conditions in tomato fields in Florida; Jackie Thrasher, a school teacher who beat back the special interest money poisoning local electoral politics in Arizona; and Diane Wilson, a shrimp boat captain who started a campaign to halt toxic dumping of polyvinyl chloride in the Gulf of Mexico. The focus in these in-depth follow-up pieces to the Now profiles is less on a particular issue than on how such unassuming community leaders are born and how many paths to civic activism are forged from local concerns. Most of the featured individuals—aside from former civil rights activist Robert Moses and government whistle-blower Bunny Greenhouse of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers—are ordinary citizens, and their abilities to devise creative solutions to serious problems and persevere against vastly influential antagonistic interests will inspire and embolden all readers. (July)

“Most Americans, whether introverted or extroverted, have learned to look like extroverts,” writes psychologist (and introvert) Heilgoe in this well-written and well-reasoned analysis that challenges the perception of introverts as a silent, problematic minority. The author reveals that 57% of the U.S. population identify as introverts and are so commonly misunderstood because many of them have become adept at mimicking extroversion (becoming a “Socially Accessible Introvert”) to get by. Heilgoe encourages introverts to see themselves as perfectly functional and to fulfill their need for solitude with regular retreats and creating a private space in their homes. Heilgoe's book is wide-ranging and cross-cultural, invoking how other societies (particularly in Japan and Scandinavia) are more compatible with and accepting of introversion. Helpful sections details why introverts need extroverts in their lives and how extroverts depend on introverts for their artistic contributions and inner “richness.” The author's voice is vivid and engaging, and she skillfully draws real-life examples of awkward scenarios introverts find themselves in when forced to play a role in society or the workplace. Readers will find much insight, as well as a comforting sense of being understood and validated. (July)

Columnist and pundit Wattenberg (Fewer) documents his conversion from Bronx liberal to passionate neocon in this pugnacious memoir-cum-history of neoconservatism filled with juicy insider tidbits. Comparing himself to Woody Allen's Zelig, the author describes being amused as he repeatedly popped up “at times and places at just about the right moment and wondered how I wandered into the frame”—and political junkies will relish his blow-by-blows from Lyndon Johnson's White House (where he worked as an aide) and stories about his “political hero” Sen. Henry “Scoop” Jackson cornering Wattenberg in a restroom after the Massachusetts primary in 1976 to relay his belief that they had secured the Democratic nomination (they hadn't). There are surprising details along the way—chiefly Wattenberg's unexpected support for Bill Clinton (he voted for him in 1992). While the book occasionally devolves into intellectual gossip and name-dropping (as in the chapter “Media Matters Most”), its rousing refutation of myths and prejudices that dog neoconservatism make it a welcome addition in a time when the ideology is publicly embattled. (July)

Overshadowed for posterity by her wittier, younger, long-reigning sister, Elizabeth, Mary Tudor has perhaps been given a bad rap by history. So thinks British biographer Porter, who depicts Mary I as a complex, outspoken, highly strung woman who ruled independent of her cousin Emperor Charles V and her husband, Philip (who was Charles's son). According to Porter, she prevailed thanks to her pride, stubbornness, an instinct for survival and bravery—particularly her quashing of Jane Grey's usurpation. As queen, she never shrank from the business of government and was willing to work even with those politicians who had tried to deprive her of her throne, making it her priority to re-establish the structure of orderly government and policy on the economy, foreign affairs and religion. This intelligent, engrossing biography succeeds somewhat in restoring Mary's reputation as trailblazer and crucial link in the Tudor dynasty. Porter is less successful in finessing the loss of Calais to France, Mary's phantom pregnancies and the burning of nearly 300 Protestants as heretics during her reign. 16 pages of b&w photos. (July)

The newly created image of Uncle Sam defined Americans' sense of obligation to their country during WWI, says Capozzola, associate professor of history at MIT. But the war also “blurred the lines between... mobilization and social control.” Capozzola does an excellent job of rendering the jingoistic, dogmatic mindset that characterized the country at a crucial time. The mobilization led 13 million American males between the ages of 18 and 45 to enthusiastically swarm to local draft boards, and women planted “Victory Gardens.” On the other hand, “home guards” kept an eye on “enemy aliens”—Americans unlucky enough to be afflicted with German heritage when this was neither convenient nor popular. Concurrently, Americans abdicated power (and key freedoms) to the federal government, while those who advocated for peace were repudiated by most. Even the revered Jane Addams was castigated by the press when she spoke against the war. It seemed, Capozzola says, that being a true American meant mindlessly going along with the status quo. All this the author captures in eloquently rendered and assiduously researched detail. 15 b&w illus. (July)

Woods and Gutzman (two bestselling authors in the Politically Incorrect Guide series) appeal to both left and right in this constitutionalist jeremiad. Liberals will agree about the unconstitutionality of the draft, warrantless wiretapping and presidential signing statements. Conservatives will agree about the unconstitutionality of school busing, bans on school prayer and Roosevelt's suspension of the gold standard. The common thread is the authors' brief for a federal government strictly limited to the powers explicitly granted by the Constitution. The authors' exegeses of the Constitution and court decisions, heavy on original intent arguments, are lucid and telling, but not always consistently supportive of liberty: their reading of the First Amendment implies that state governments may restrict speech, religion and the press. Their attack on expansive federal power—even federal spending on cancer research—is perhaps too successful; it inadvertently supports scholars like Daniel Lazare who argue that the Constitution is too antiquated, constraining and hard to change to keep up with a modern consensus on civil rights and good governance. (July)

The shocking story of the American eugenics movement has been told before, but Nourse's first book focuses on the Supreme Court case that dealt the movement its death blow: the 1942 decision in Skinner v. Oklahoma. Nourse conveys the popular acceptance of the idea of “race betterment” in the 1920s and '30s: in the permanent Eugenics Pavilion at the Kansas Free Fair, for instance, flashing lights toted up the cost to society of the criminal and the “feebleminded.” Against this background, Nourse, a law professor at the University of Wisconsin, conveys the magnitude of the constitutional challenge facing Jack Skinner, an Oklahoma convict ordered sterilized pursuant to a eugenic statute aimed at “habitual criminals.” Nourse is equally effective depicting the legal strategies and the impact of the Depression and the growing awareness of Nazi atrocities on the High Court. A bit more challenging is Nourse's analysis of Skinner's theoretical underpinnings. She argues convincingly that today, when genes are viewed as the “cause for everything from criminality to spirituality,” America's flirtation with eugenics is a cautionary tale worth remembering. 11 photos. (July)

Smith, a law professor at Georgetown, has defended thousands of clients, but it was her first client, Patsy Kelly, who stood out most. Smith was still a law student when they met in 1980, and Kelly was serving a life sentence for driving the getaway car in a felony-murder. The conviction was based on eyewitness testimony that was riddled with inconsistencies. After a series of interviews with Kelly, Smith became convinced that she was innocent and worked doggedly for the next 25 years to free her. Kelly was released in 2005, after serving 28 years, but it was a parole and not through Smith's efforts. The book's strength is Smith's openness about her life as a criminal defense attorney and her sophisticated thinking about the moral and ethical dilemmas criminal lawyers routinely navigate, such as how to represent the guilty, how far to go to ensure their clients' freedom and the ultimate question, what is their responsibility to the truth? Aspiring lawyers and anyone interested in the criminal justice system will benefit from reading Smith's account. (July)

Despite its appealingly gory subject, Mercer's uneven history of the guillotine is too poorly organized to be truly informative. Arriving in rough-and-tumble Marseille in 1968, Tunisian-born Hamida Djandoubi lost his leg in a 1971 tractor accident. During his convalescence the handsome, seductive Djandoubi met Elisabeth Bousquet, a naïve, lonely teenager, and soon forced her into prostitution. By 1974, Djandoubi had acquired two underage girlfriends, whom he made assist in Bouquet's gruesome murder. Executed on September 10, 1977, Djandoubi was the last man to be guillotined before France abolished the death penalty in 1981. But Mercer (Time Was Soft There) continually interrupts the flow of his account of Djandoubi's life and crimes with chapters about the evolution of capital punishment, including Hammurabi's Code, which in 1760 B.C. introduced the “eye for an eye” law of retaliation, and the invention of mechanized decapitation by France's Dr. Joseph-Ignace Guillotin in 1791. The conversational style makes for an entertaining read, but those hoping for an in-depth study of capital punishment in France should look elsewhere. 8 pages of b&w photos. (July)

The title promises tales of violent disasters, but in fact British oceanographer Chester draws readers into a detailed history of geology and the science of plate tectonics. He briefly reviews premodern explanations of natural disasters as acts of God or the gods. Modern geology grew from three tenets: the earth was very old; it had changed a great deal since its formation; and the changes were natural, not divinely produced. By the late 19th century, fossil and geological evidence showed that the continents had once been joined—but explaining the dynamics of continental movement would require mapping the ocean floor, measuring changes in the earth's magnetic field and diving deep underwater where sulfur-rich hydrothermal vents fed strange and alien life forms. Sidebars highlight infamous natural disasters throughout recorded history, ending with the 2004 Asian tsunami. As in a textbook, there is clear and concise explanation, each chapter concluding with a review. Chester ends with a look at how understanding plate tectonics has made it possible to monitor for early signs of a natural disaster. 8 b&w photos, 18 illus. (July)

Psychologist and smell scientist Gilbert's serious science is enlivened by a whimsical sense of humor. He is entertaining when affirming common wisdoms regarding smell—mothers can discern the smell of their child's diapers from another's (and think the smell sweeter), and, yes, women's sense of smell is better than men's. Gilbert destroys some shibboleths—blind people smell no better than sighted people, and dogs' and humans' senses of smell are probably reasonably similar. Gilbert is also interested in how smell is treated in the arts, riffing on Proust's ruminations on smell and memory, or “déja-smell,” as Gilbert calls it. He energetically describes the epic 1950s Hollywood battle between “Smell-O-Vision” and “AromaRama”; the physiology of the popular tabloid tales of dead, decaying bodies found after a neighbor's report of “a foul odor” from a nearby apartment; and the possible evolutionary future of the human ability to smell. Gilbert is also surprisingly romantic, and elegiac, in describing smells that modern society has lost, odors he includes in his novel concept of “smellscape.” Gilbert is an entertaining guide and worth sniffing around with. (July)

Following his landmark book Talking Back to Prozac, psychiatrist Breggin follows up by arguing against what he calls the “spellbinding” effects of psychiatric medications, and he doesn't mean “spellbinding” as praise. His point is that all psychiatric drugs are dangerous; he describes how these medications can compromise brain function, resulting in bizarre, even violent behavior. Breggin, a former staffer at the National Institute of Mental Health who has testified in liability suits against pharmaceutical companies, cautions that consumers should thoroughly examine the drug labels for side effects as a precaution for such drugs as stimulants, antidepressants, tranquilizers, antipsychotics and mood stabilizers. The tragic cases of beleaguered patients detailed here are troubling. Breggin joins the growing group of experts who argue that the FDA is “more dedicated to serving the drug companies than consumers,” relying on doctored or incomplete evidence and botched tests. Breggin's assertion that psychotropic drugs induce rather than treat brain imbalances is controversial, but this book is a reasoned look at these drugs, which have come under increasing scrutiny in the media as well as medical world. (July)

In a swaggering, sometimes condescending and often contentious introduction to Kafka, Hawes draws on the writer's stories, diaries and letters, as well as contemporary cultural documents as he asks the real Kafka to please stand up. Rather than the conventional portrait of a lonely figure whose day job deprived him of time to write—an image he calls “the K.-myth”—Hawes discovers a confident lawyer who never lacked friends and whose early writings were admired and promoted by Rilke, Hermann Hesse and Robert Musil. Hawes also takes on the view that Kafka feared women and sex; he underscores Kafka's “compulsive” brothel visits; and like other well-to-do young men of his class, Hawes says, Kafka had a sexual liaison with a working-class woman. Hawes also makes much of his revelation that Kafka read highbrow pornography. More original is Hawes's reinterpretation of The Metamorphosis by finding its source in Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther. Although this book will provoke many Kafka scholars, its invitation to see Kafka in a new light encourages a fresh understanding of one of the 20th century's most enigmatic writers. B&w photos. (July)

Like many far-flung Jewish communities, the community in Kerala in southern India has dwindled to a mere 50 because of emigration since Israel's founding in 1948. British-Indian journalist Fernandes (Holy Warriors) portrays today's Keralite Jews as she relates her efforts to learn their history. There are two groups of Keralite Jews: the “Black,” or Malabari, Jews, who trace their roots in India to at least A.D. 70, and the “White,” or Paradesi, Jews, who arrived later, perhaps during the Middle Ages. Fernandes doesn't sugarcoat the two groups' embattled relationship. The Paradesi Jews believed their lighter skin showed their racial purity, calling the darker-skinned Jews descendants of slave converts. As late as 1950, marriages between the two communities were highly controversial. Despite the intriguing story Fernandes tells, she keeps readers waiting too long to uncover the history, and she concludes with the story of one elderly Keralite who had moved to Israel decades earlier; disillusioned by the fast-paced, secular life there, he returns to India—an anomalous ending for a book about a community that has overwhelmingly moved in the other direction. (July)

Van Meers's childhood was so miserable even Dickens might have softened it. She was born in a Belgian home for unwed mothers in 1930. Her mother once hit her so hard she lost the hearing in one ear, and dubbed her “nails in my coffin.” The rest of the family wasn't much better. One aunt, an aspiring nun, once gave her counterfeit money. An uncle encouraged her to steal a bike, then pushed her and the bike into a canal. But her blood relatives were delightful compared to her stepfather, a violent, abusive Nazi sympathizer. When a feisty 13-year-old Rachel spat at him, he sent her to a work camp in Germany. Only after she became deathly ill a year later was she returned to Belgium for treatment. Yet Van Meers is remarkably free of bitterness. She's equally free of the powers of reflection. The clumsy prose (“Belgium is two languages”) reflects the less than graceful (and sometimes coarse) English of Van Meers, who now lives in Oregon. But as a fascinating mix of horror, survival and dogged determination, this book is hard to put down. Photos. (July)

McMurtry (Lonesome Dove) calls this “a book about my life with books.” He begins with his Texas childhood in an isolated, “totally bookless” ranch house. His life changed in 1942 when a cousin, off to enlist, gave McMurtry a box of 19 adventure books, initiating what eventually became his personal library of 28,000 books. “Forming that library, and reading it, is surely one of the principal achievements of my life,” he writes, deftly interweaving book-collecting memories with autobiographical milestones. When his family moved to Archer City, Tex., he found more books, plus magazines, films and comic books. In Houston, attending Rice, he explored the 600,000 volumes in the “wonderful open-stack Fondren Library... heaven!” In 1971, after years of collecting, he opened his own bookstore, Booked Up, in Georgetown, Tex., relocating in 1996 to Archer City, where he created a “book town” by filling five buildings with 300,000 books. McMurtry offers opinions on everything from bookplates and audiobooks to the cyber revolution and 1950s paperbacks: “Paperback covers, many very sexy, were the advance guard of the rapid breakdown of sexual restraint among the middle classes almost everywhere.” While there are anecdotes about bookshops and crafty dealers, McMurtry is at his best when he uses his considerable skills as a writer to recreate moments from his personal past. (July)

The year she turned 50, Oxenhandler (The Eros of Parenthood) deeply longed for three things: a house, a man and spiritual healing. This memoir tells of her 12-month attempt to fulfill these longings while reflecting on “the quintessentially human act of wishing,” with all its power and pitfalls. She goes house hunting, visits places of spiritual sanctuary and nurtures a new relationship—all while struggling to overcome her tendency to be a “terrible wish snob” who balks at the notion of voicing worldly and altruistic wishes together in the same breath, of mixing the profane and the divine more generally. She considers wishing in its broader contexts: mythology, American history, folktales, theology, superstition, philosophy, New Age and psychology. Her philosophy/religious-studies education, guilt-prone sensibility (she's half-Jewish and was raised Catholic) and 30-year history as a practicing Buddhist complicate her careful study and make for a smart read. Oxenhandler does little to resolve or even fully explore the crises that set her on her quest (seven years earlier, an affair ended her marriage as well as her place in her spiritual community), and her pat conclusions hardly match the strength of the work as a whole. Nonetheless, readers will enjoy watching Oxenhandler realize her dreams through diligence, hard work and a “willing suspension of disbelief” in the captivating magic of wishing. (July)

Freelance writer Chamberlain's exploration of the social and professional choices of Generation X is a knowledgeable and well-written addition to the growing library of books devoted to the “alternative” generation. The author focuses primarily on the way that the young men and women of the 1990s made their money, and does a nice job conveying the tough economic fortunes of the beginning of that decade and the creative and financial boom of the Internet's early days, as well as the eventual fallout when it went bust. Chamberlain uses each chapter of the book to address a specific aspect of the generation in question, often using a combination of cultural touchstones and sociology books to illustrate her point; a chapter about Gen-X relationships ponders the Richard Linklater film Before Sunrise and quotes extensively from Stephanie Coontz's Marriage, a History. Often, the text is taken over by monologues from Gen-Xers themselves, who narrate their winding paths through the job market, usually ending in creative and relatively fulfilling jobs as a result of their ingenuity. While the book is full of interesting mini-arguments, including an entertaining takedown of Ethan Watters's Urban Tribes, it doesn't present a cohesive vision. Rather, it serves to illuminate the many disparate pockets of a group that continues to resist easy categorization. (July)

Questioning his Jewish faith, his friends and his semitraditional family, Canadian playwright Garfinkel (The Trials of John Demjanjuk) sets off on a stylized odyssey for meaning throughout contemporary Israel and Palestine. “It would be nice,” he writes, “to stumble upon a burning bush... even a neon sign that says 'This way to revelation, idiot.' ” What he does find—the story of a house near Jerusalem shared by an Arab and a Jew—challenges his Zionist school education and compels him to uncover the human, historical and political truths of the house and its occupants. His intent is to write a play possibly using this unusual living arrangement as a metaphor for peace. But along the way, as Garfinkel explores the West Bank, visits college buddies now Orthodox converts and tours the Qulandia refugee camp, his moral compass twirls, each adventure underscored by dramatized flashbacks of contradictory classroom lessons. Referring to thinkers like “new historian” Benny Morris and such cultural heroes as Ben-Gurion and Moses, Garfinkel creates a nuanced and engaging journey full of ethical inquiry and ethnic anxiety. Simply put, the Holy Land he experiences is not the land he studied. Readers looking for a grittier, more journalistic view of Jewish-Palestinian relations should look elsewhere; others, however, will empathize with his efforts to keep the faith. (Aug.)

Nimoy knows some people will only be interested in his story because of his family connection to the Star Trek actor, his father Leonard Nimoy; early on, recounting an excruciating meeting with a literary agent, he contemplates calling his book I Am Not the Son of Spock. There are a few celebrity-filled anecdotes, such as his youthful crushes on Jill Ireland and Bibi Andersson. His core story, however, is about the personal upheavals that come when he decides to end a decades-long addiction to marijuana. Once he stops using pot to shield himself from pain, Nimoy realizes his marriage isn't working. The separation hits his adolescent son and daughter hard, and the book's most poignant scenes track the turbulence as he works to maintain a place in their emotional lives. Nimoy's career as a television director has honed his sense of story; in one chapter, he reframes a youthful run-in with the cops as an exercise for his film students to find the “moment of decision” driving the character. The best scenes from this “anti-memoir” zero in on those emotional cores, enabling Nimoy to tell an instantly recognizable story of heartache and recovery with deceivingly simple honesty. B&w photos throughout. (July)

It seems that Offit, former senior editor of Intellectual Digest and book editor of Politics Today, knew everyone who was worth knowing, as his new memoir is peopled with noted writers, lawmakers and sporting buddies. Realizing early that his passion was writing, Offit, who has now curated journalism's George Polk Awards for more than 25 years, becomes an astute observer on the New York celebrity scene, encountering H.L. Mencken, accused Communist spy Alger Hiss, studio head Dore Schary, Marlon Brando and poets Robert Frost and Frank O'Hara. Some of the meetings with celebrities, like politician Adlai Stevenson, CIA's Allen Dulles, Truman Capote, Norman Mailer and Kurt Vonnegut, are lightweight, revealing little beyond their patented image. He fares better in his descriptions of the no-nonsense Che Guevara offering him Cuban cigars; not-so-tall actor Errol Flynn; pugilist Mike Tyson with “his high pitched little boy–little girl voice that belied his speed, power, and rage.” It's a memoir that lapses into name-dropping but is often wonderful in its remembrances. (July)

Sing (Spirituality of Sport) recounts the 1920 Olympics when the American crew team beat the British, who dominated the sport until then. Thoroughly researched and documented, the book explores the rise of the modern Olympic games and the history of rowing and the life of coach Dick Glendon—all provide context for the sport and its culture. In the vein of Wayne Coffey's The Boys of Winter, about the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team, Sing creates a David vs. Goliath scenario made possible by an unconventional coach, who revolutionized the sport. Unfortunately, Sing's prose can be cumbersome (“A revealing and stunningly important article by Dr. Walter Peet, past coach of Columbia, proceeded to dissect and analyze the empirical thinking of Glendon that in a nutshell is a synopsis of the Glendon stroke, which is the basis of the newly found and tried American Orthodoxy”), but crew fans will appreciate how triumph in a sport lifts a nation. Photos. (July)

In prosaic text and stunning photographs, Murphy (The American Townhouse) and Rocheleau showcase 18 houses (and some private gardens) in New York City's fabled Greenwich Village. The book introduces the houses chronologically, from a row house built in 1827 to a modernist home built in 2005, with a discussion of their architectural styles and information about the original owners. Rocheleau's photographs show what has been preserved, renovated and, in some cases, transformed into something completely new. Among the houses that retain their original character are the John Grindley house, a well-preserved example from the Federal period; the Cornelius Oakley house and the Merchant's House Museum, which exemplify the transition from the Federal style to Greek Revival; and the Italianate Salmagundi Club. Modern renovations have transformed many of the others so drastically that they reflect more strongly the predilections of contemporary architects and interior decorators than the tastes of the original owners. This coffee-table book is visually appealing, but leaves the impression that much of Greenwich Village, once an enclave of artists and intellectuals, has been gentrified to the point of losing its bohemian charm. (June)

Coulter, a magazine journalist, takes the familiar biblical story of faith the size of a mustard seed to illustrate how God can use even the most horrendous “lifequakes” as faith-builders. Coulter opens her compilation of life essays with a personal story from her childhood when the concept of mustard seed faith was first planted after a teacher offered the class mustard seed charms as an attendance reward. Though Coulter eventually lost the charm, she never forgot its message. Years later, after the death of her parents, her husband's job loss, financial setbacks and her own shattered shoulder, the author's faith was in pieces. She wrestled long and hard to regain closeness with God. In each of these tender topical chapters, Coulter uses everyday happenings from nature, parenting, work, illnesses and church to reaffirm a single lesson: God is intimately involved in every aspect of life and he cares with a watchful affection. Readers will find strength from Coulter's story and solace in God's promises regarding faith and grace. (Sept.)

Beloved disciple or whore? Was Mary of Magdala married to Jesus? Was she a leader of the early church? Why did Jesus appear to Mary first and instruct her to tell the other disciples about his resurrection? In a brilliant and beautifully written book, Griffith-Jones, master of the Temple Church in London, explores these and other questions. He cannily reads the canonical Gospels side by side and then introduces the Gnostic Gospels of Thomas and Mary, among others, in search of a portrait of the historical Mary Magdalene. Griffith-Jones traces Mary's reputation in the medieval world, using medieval paintings and other artistic images, as well as the writings of mystics such as Bernard of Clairvaux, to show how Mary became an object of veneration during the Middle Ages. He concludes this elegant study by observing that Mary Magdalene stands in for the reader of John's gospel, who must go through the whole drama of the gospel in order finally to see what Mary sees in the garden on Easter Day. (Sept.)

McGee is an English Benedictine monk on a mission. A lifelong Francophile, he first learned of the deaths of 19 French Catholic nuns, brothers and priests in Algeria during the mid-1990s from an article in a Catholic journal. Afterwards, he wrote to the archbishop of Algeria requesting the chance to make pilgrimage to the country and witness the sites where the violence had occurred. The result is this moving overview of the lives of the martyrs and a hopeful portrait of a Christian community prepared to die for love of its Muslim neighbors. McGee retells the events of the Islamist revolution that saw the departure of nearly 100,000 Christian settlers during Algeria's civil war. McGee describes how a few dozen Catholic religious chose to stay behind to continue as medics, teachers, librarians and friends to the poor. Although the book fails to provide a balanced view of the motivations that led to the murders, it makes a strong case for continued dialogue between Christians and Muslims. (Sept.)

Ranging from Chicago to Kenya, New Orleans to Maine, Big Sky to Graceland, Falsani dons her investigative cap and scouts for grace. This religion columnist for the Chicago Sun-Times is a charming guide to places and people who reveal “grace when and where it happens.” Eschewing technical theological definitions, Falsani opts instead to tell how she has experienced grace. And we are vicarious travelers, seeing grace—“audacious, unwarranted, and unlimited”—through Falsani's eyes. She marvels at the devotion of young people who crowd to the pope's funeral and at the astoundingly independent women of Asembo Bay in Kenya. She wrestles with anger at a misogynist Tanzanian tour guide and anger at God when her mother and beloved cat face cancer. We traipse along with the author and eavesdrop on her conversations, both external and internal. The result is a pastiche of images meant collectively to reveal God's grace. Though some may find the premise contrived, only a fierce cynic could fail to be drawn in to Falsani's tales and candid reflections. (Sept.)

Waving a flag of truce in the ongoing literary battle between ardent atheists and their theist opponents, Novak chooses to make love, not war—or at least to inquire why humans are capable of loving. Currently a scholar at the American Enterprise Institute and the author of The Spirit of Democratic Capitalism, Novak displays an impressive command of classical and contemporary philosophy and theology in this eloquent, candid and multifaceted attempt to encourage dialogue between the two camps. “Neither the atheist nor the believer sees God. Both must live in darkness,” he argues. Making the most abstruse ideas accessible to the unschooled reader, he grapples with such perennial questions as the role of reason, the existence of evil and God's nature. Although the writer, a Catholic conservative, generally treats notable atheists like Dawkins, Hitchens and Harris with respect, he doesn't mind taking a friendly swipe at them now and then. In fact, he suggests, it is past time for believers and nonbelievers to acknowledge the questions they share in an age of doubt, and learn with mutual sensitivity from each other. (Aug. 5)

Copan, a professor of philosophy and ethics at Palm Beach Atlantic University, submits an excellent and comprehensive resource to help Christians contend with controversial questions about their faith. Copan writes eloquently and respectfully on social and moral themes: when is lying biblically acceptable? why does a sovereign god demand worship from humanity? how can Christians believe theirs is the only way to heaven? what does God have to say about homosexuality and same-sex marriage? Though each topic is approached with care, Copan does not flinch from a biblical stance and delineates each problem with exemplary thoroughness. Thoughtful readers will find great value in his approach to unpacking Christian slogans as related to truth and reality, worldviews and religious belief systems. He expertly unmasks the problematic “personal autonomy” philosophy that makes “sweeping relativistic claims, but then tacks on absolute, inviolable standards at the end.” Copan's skillful approach to apologetics provides ample information on hot-topic themes, but some readers may not be up to the challenge of slowly digesting his thought-provoking, weighty explanations. (Aug.)

This heady, ambitious and sometimes dense work succeeds in marrying fresh scientific studies to the “shift” in consciousness that the New Thought world has been prognosticating for decades. The first section delves with some detail into physics, discussing quantum, relativity, fractal and superstring theories. Referring to explorations as recent as 2005, the authors argue that these inquiries point to a renewed understanding of Akasha, which is Sanskrit for “all-pervasive space... the womb from which everything we perceive has emerged and to which everything ultimately returns.” The second section empirically plumbs the limitless connections among us, while the final one addresses the “breakdown or breakthrough” juncture at which we find ourselves. The rhetoric here shifts toward a vernacular familiar to New Thought advocates about the ability and responsibility to cocreate our intensely collective experience, but the preceding science bolsters this in a substantive and unworn way. Although the dense language and passive voice make this a challenging read, it merits strong consideration by those interested in reconciling science and spirituality for our daunting times. (Aug.)

Homeless, poor, addicts, prostitutes, abusers of all sorts—these are folks most of us studiously avoid, much less befriend. Yet Paul (God in the Alley) sees God in all of them and shares that spiritual sight in his second book. The lessons are deep and numerous, including the startling notion that the rich are “barely conscious of their deep poverty” while the poor “generally have little sense of their blessedness, the amazing gifts they have to share with people who appear to them to already have it all.” Paul strips away facades as he reveals some of the gifts he's received from the people at Sanctuary Ministries in downtown Toronto: understanding his own addictions to impregnability and independence, discerning the difference between fruitfulness and productivity, and gaining a new thankfulness and a deeper understanding of suffering. This is no theoretical study of the results of poverty or a political statement. It's a gritty look at individuals who reached out and changed Paul's life. It's ugly, scary and depressing at times, but honest and well-written from page one. (Aug.)

Inspired by the Nag Hammadi discoveries and influenced by more than 30 years of study with Fr. Thomas Keating and other contemplatives in a variety of wisdom traditions, Bourgeault, an Episcopal priest, encourages seekers to reach beyond the Western tradition of Jesus-as-Savior to embrace Jesus more wholly as a wisdom teacher. Through a transformative lesson in vocabulary, giving new meaning to perceptions like “head,” “heart” and “repentance,” she offers a fresh reading of the Beatitudes, challenges us to explore the more complicated messages imbedded in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke and emphasizes a notion of “self-emptying love” that allows for a shift in consciousness from ego-based analysis to acceptance of divine abundance, which in turn sheds new light on examinations of the Passion, crucifixion and ensuing events. Guided chapter primers on centered meditation and chanting further prepare readers to test the open waters of welcoming the “flow of... deeper sustaining wisdom.” Though strict legalists may not warm to this new spiritual perspective, other students of faith will find an especially intriguing and engaging path waiting for them. (Aug.)

In these gentle reflections, popular Christian speaker and writer Feinberg (The Organic God) urges readers to listen carefully for the sacred echoes of God's voice amid their daily lives as an “invitation to spiritual awakening.” Not one to shy away from the hard questions, Feinberg keeps asking “why?” as she sees others suffer, acknowledging that “prayers of petition force one to live [with] eyes wide open to see what God may do or leave undone.” Guided by stories in the Bible such as that of Elijah, she draws from her own life and those of the people around her to illustrate the ways that God speaks and the ways that we must pay attention to hear; topics include reminders to follow God's call, help others, build relationships and be patient through times of waiting. While some readers may want a more in-depth approach to the complexities of petitionary prayer in a world where many prayers don't seem to be answered, Feinberg brings an authentic voiceto a perennially difficult subject, and her book serves as a devotional reminder to look for the signs of God's presence everywhere. (Aug.)

Crouch, editorial director of the Christian Vision Project at Christianity Today International and a member of the editorial board for Books & Culture, gives readers a sweeping new theology of culture. Crouch blends academic research on the nature of culture with extensive theological study and years of experience as a cultural critic; his conclusions will be fresh and challenging for Christian readers. For Crouch, culture is a good and intentional part of God's creation. It encompasses not simply the arts but everything we do—from making meals to balancing work with life. Traditional Christian responses to culture—condemnation, critique and copying—are not enough to change it (although all at times are valid); instead, culture must be both cultivated (the good must be preserved) and created. Crouch argues that it is impossible for any of us to change the world, but that each of us can create culture within our own sphere of influence, and while that may feel small, God specializes in using small and seemingly unimportant things. Those who have struggled with the sacred-secular dichotomy will find this book life-giving; every Christian interested in changing culture should read it. (Aug.)

Detweiler delivers one of the more successful and substantial theological interpretations of contemporary movies, mining film for spiritual meaning. The author, who is codirector of the Reel Spirituality Institute, contends that film is a powerful tool for society's self-reflection in a postmodern world. Nostalgia, memory and amnesia are three key themes in contemporary film that offer insights about our culture's sense of being lost in this postmodern context without any sense of direction. Detweiler brings his theological expertise to bear on such recent works as The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Million Dollar Baby and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Besides their impressive entertainment value, these films and several others are rich in God language and religious significance. Why, some may wonder, do we need to reflect upon films so intensely? The answer is that we don't, but if we are grasping for meaning in our culture, as Detweiler contends, movies are a fine place to start looking for God. (July)

Why are images of the crucified Jesus absent from early Christian art? When Brock and Parker, theologians and coauthors of Proverbs of Ashes, investigated representations of Christ in Italy and Turkey's first millennium of public art, they found pictured not death but earthly joy. Descriptions of this art (with sparse b&w photographs), quotes from early Christian writers and strong analyses reveal a powerful “genealogy of paradise” in this life focusing on the “ethical grace” at the heart of Jesus' message. Explorations of baptism, the Eucharist, beauty, martyrdom and human divinity (theosis) show an early Christian world where the resurrection had more hold on the imagination than the crucifixion. Brock and Parker locate the paradigmatic shift toward suffering, judgment and atonement in the bloody forced conversion of the Northern European Saxons by Charlemagne. The book's second half describes the harrowing adoption of “redemptive violence” in medieval Europe and the New World's Eden, built on genocide and slavery. This humane and often beautiful study of faith, loss and hope straddles the boundary between historical discovery and spiritual writing. (July)