Nonfiction Reviews: Week of 7/21/2008

Lowe and McArthur filled two books for the U.K. market with cynically profane critiques of the ephemera of contemporary culture; this edition features material from those volumes combined with new entries from Hay, a former writer for The Daily Show. Nonetheless, a strong British streak running runs throughout, particularly when it comes to vocabulary such as “posh jackasses” and “cobblers to your iPod playlist.” The targets are for the most part predictable—celebrities, rich people, George W. Bush, etc. How much space a topic rates is sometimes mystifying: the entries on Chinese Communist Party and the hidden teachings of Scientology go on for several pages, yet the Blackberry rates only a single line. There’s even an entry on people in bear costumes on motorbikes advertising stuff—which, they say, “happens more than you might imagine.” It’s all amusing enough in small doses, but not quite as clever as, say, the Onion. (Nov.)

An English junior stock broker visiting Russia for a series of business meetings in 2003 is arrested at the Moscow airport with a small bit of hash he’d forgotten in a trouser pocket. Thus begins Hague’s nearly two-year journey through a Russian penal system that seems little changed from Iron Curtain days. After a brief trial, Hague is dispatched to Zone 22, a labor camp in the frigid plains of Mordovia, where he suffers from malnutrition, infections, and physical and psychological torture at the hands of brutal prison guards. Over the months, Hague learns the system and is sustained by the support of his family, girlfriend and sympathetic fellow prisoners. The rhythms of prison life are vividly presented—the fear, petty humiliations and the foul behaviors of men crammed into tight quarters. Hague draws sharp grotesques of the guards and prisoners, and does not spare the reader his own bouts of hopelessness, cowardice and venality. The book’s claustrophobic tone would have benefited by more general detail about Russia and Hague’s earlier life. Still, the author movingly presents his daily struggle to remain human in an inhuman environment. (Oct.)

Ebert, film critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, is an unabashed fan of Scorsese, whom he considers “the most gifted director of his generation.” To prove it, he’s compiled his reviews of every Scorsese film—beginning with I Call First in 1967 to his latest, Shine a Light. Along the way, Ebert pays special tribute to five “masterpieces,” including Taxi Driver, Raging Bull and Mean Streets, which he calls “one of the source points of modern movies.” These three films in particular, Ebert argues, reflect Scorsese’s ongoing preoccupation with sex and guilt, themes fueled by a Catholic upbringing and his childhood in New York City’s Little Italy. Citing the director’s strong collaboration with actor Robert De Niro and screenwriter Paul Schrader, Ebert says all three men seem “fascinated by the lives of tortured, violent, guilt-ridden characters,” usually men who cannot relate to women, such as Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver or Jake LaMotta in Raging Bull. Of special note are interviews with Scorsese over a 25-year period, in which the director candidly discusses his body of work. (Oct.)

Gravity has long been the problem child of physics, creating difficulties in finding a Theory of Everything. To complicate matters, most scientists believe that there is a mysterious, unidentified “dark matter” that makes up most of the universe, and that an equally baffling “dark energy” is pushing the universe apart. Moffat, an affiliate member of the cutting-edge Perimeter Institute for Theoretical Physics in Canada, has developed a new theory that he calls Modified Gravity (MOG). Moffat says that both Newton and Einstein were wrong, and that Newton’s gravitational constant is not constant across distances as large as galaxies and galaxy clusters. Scientists haven’t been able to find dark matter because it doesn’t exist: MOG values help account for rates of galaxy rotation. Perhaps more revolutionary is Moffat’s claim that black holes don’t exist either. His theory predicts a “grey star,” a massive object with many but not all of the properties of a black hole. Moffat’s theory thus far has withstood many objections. If MOG stands the test of time, Moffat will have created a paradigm shift not seen since Newton. Illus. (Oct.)

The provocative premise of this short book is that even as we appear to be awash in information, governments and industry are restricting access to knowledge by broadening the concept of intellectual property to include things as diverse as gene sequences and sales techniques . According to Laughlin, “the right to learn is now aggressively opposed by intellectual property advocates, who want ideas elevated to the status of land, cars, and other physical assets so the their unauthorized acquisition can be prosecuted as theft.” With examples drawn from nuclear physics, biotechnology and patent law, Laughlin, a Nobel laureate in physics, paints a troubling picture of a society in which the only information that is truly valuable in dollars and cents is controlled by a small number of individuals. But while Laughlin poses urgent questions, he provides neither in-depth analysis nor potential solutions. Many intriguing arguments—for example, that “electronic technologies such as the Internet, which inundate us with useless information, are not instruments of knowledge dissemination at all but agencies of knowledge destruction”—are offered but none are usefully explored. (Oct.)

Bartlett and Sweetman, respected authorities on naval and Marine Corps history, collaborate on a significantly updated version of The U.S. Marine Corps: An Illustrated History. Owners of that volume need not shy away from this one. The illustrations in particular have been overhauled, incorporating many new photos and prints from unfamiliar sources. The text adds a final chapter perceptively analyzing the corps’s spectrum of contributions to the war on terror, from peacekeeping operations in Africa to pitched battles in Iraq and Afghanistan. The authors’ treatment of the two battles for Fallujah merit particular attention. Newcomers will find even more useful the initial chapter, a survey of marine forces since antiquity, and the body of the text, which surveys the U.S. Marines’ protean history. The book, and the Corps it celebrates, are best defined by a photo: this candid shot, taken during the battle for Okinawa, shows two men of the 29th Marines sleeping, an Okinawan orphan cuddled safely between them in their fighting hole. 145 b&w photos, 112 color illus., 30 maps. (Oct.)

In this critical but affectionate portrait of Iranian politics and culture, Majd, the Western-educated grandson of an ayatollah, delves into the very core of Iranian society, closely examining social mores and Farsi phrases to identify the Persian sensibility, which, Majd determines, cherishes privacy, praise and poetry. Nothing is too small or too sweeping for Majd to consider, and although he announces his allegiance to the former president Khatami, he remains scrupulously even-handed in assessing his successor Ahmadinejad, shedding light on the Iranian president’s “obsession” with the Holocaust and penchant for windbreakers and why the two are (surprisingly) intertwined. The author’s brisk, conversational prose is appealing; his book reads as if he is chatting with a smart friend, while strolling around Tehran, engaged in ta’arouf (an exaggerated form of self-deprecation key to understanding Persian society). Although Majd seems to gloss too quickly over realities that don’t engage his interest—women’s voices are only intermittently included—this failing scarcely mars this remarkable ride through what is often uncharted territory. (Oct.)

For his Ph.D. dissertation, Kull built a cabin in the Patagonian wilderness with the intention of studying “the effect of deep wilderness solitude on a human being,” and this account chronicles the tortures and gifts of a year spent in near-total isolation. Kull intersperses methodological and contextual chapters between the journal’s month-by-month entries, and while these chapters are informative (describing a 'tradition’ of solitaries and hermits, surveys of the various cultural understandings of solitude), they do little to alleviate the sound of one man worrying. Only when the author refrains from taking his mental, emotional and spiritual temperature, writing instead about his physical explorations and observations of the surrounding area, does the narrative achieves a sense of spaciousness and relief. Kull writes that he wants to “encourage others... to welcome the darkness, difficulty, and fear,” but it is when he himself does this that the resultant journal entries become relaxed, expansive and enlightening. He studies ducks that defend territory outside his cabin, tracks the slow movements of limpets and explores pristine inlets and a glacier; these episodes and the accompanying insights, however, may arrive too late for some readers. (Oct.)

According to Barnett, the Green Editor for KNTV in San Francisco, human beings are saturating their bodies, their children’s bodies and their homes with noxious waste, pathogens and carcinogens. Barnett recounts having her blood and urine tested to illustrate how toxins have deeply embedded themselves—her results show positive for bisphenonol A (linked to birth defects and reproductive problems) and perchlorate (an active ingredient in rocket fuel found in contaminated food). The book is divided into seven clean-it-up chapters full of solid information and helpful tips aimed at greening different areas of your life, such as how to best filter household water. Barnett’s well-written environmental call-to-arms is passionate and authoritative; her findings correlating childhood illnesses with ordinary—and highly toxic—cleaning supplies is alarming. However, readers will likely find Barnett’s claims slightly suspect for the fact that her sensible advice is compromised by her relentless endorsement of Shaklee products (her husband happens to be the Shaklee CEO). (Sept.)

Pollard, a longtime entrepreneurial advisor, distills his extensive experience into sound suggestions in this useful and much-needed book. According to the author, too many individuals hesitate in creating a business in line with their goals, skills and values out of fear or a lack of self-confidence or funds. Pollard argues that entrepreneurship need not imply stress or risk, and he coaches readers through the process of identifying their passion, choosing the right collaborators and discovering unmet needs in the marketplace. Helpful charts and exercises guide the reader in finding where their purpose, passions and gifts intersect; and bite-sized case studies of entrepreneur success studies abound and help illustrate his points. Along the way, Pollard warns against settling for work that is anything less than satisfying. The ideal job—what he calls “natural enterprise” or the “sweet spot”—is an innovative business that touches people’s lives. Pollard gives an insightful overview of the entrepreneurial process, and the book itself stands testament to the success of the author’s methods. (Sept.)

Mapping the first large-scale shift away from Western media dominance since the advent of television, Seib (Headline Democracy) argues that framing conflict in the Middle East as a “clash of civilizations” has outlived its polemical and practical uses. The book makes a convincing case that the rise of Al Jazeera—with its audience of 35 million—reflects how satellite television and the Internet create virtual communities that can significantly influence political policy. Seib cites the example of Hezbollah, a geopolitical group without easily definable territory, and suggests that Al Qaeda is similarly a virtual state existing through the combination of communication and political will. Information is no longer the province of a political elite, according to the author whose wide-ranging evidence includes a fascinating description of how news of the SARS outbreak in China first leaked via text message and in Internet chatrooms. The author also examines how the constant proliferation of perspectives on the Internet, for example, can both mitigate and exacerbate problems of assimilation. Seib constructs an imaginative, thorough and balanced assessment of how news—ever more a dialogue and less an event—is redistributing political power. (Sept.)

Law professors Newton and Scharf recount their involvement in the trial of Saddam Hussein, from the Iraqis’ iconic removal of the statue of Saddam Hussein in Firdus Square in April 2003 to the deposed leader’s chaotic hanging. Newton and Scharf helped write the rules of the Iraqi High Tribunal for the trial, giving them an insiders’ view of the case. They candidly summarize the difficulties posed to courts and lawyers intent on bringing Hussein’s crimes to light and exposing him to fair and unbiased judgment. Most illuminating is the day-by-day recounting of the tensest period of the trial, in a chapter aptly titled “Disorder in the Courtroom.” They admit that the trial was “both revolutionary in its aspiration and at times rudimentary in its applications.” Readers interested in the future of global jurisprudence will find much to ponder in this frank and detailed account. (Sept.)

The mystery and magnificence of the Great Wall of China have fascinated historians and artists for centuries. In recent years, photographer Lindesay traveled the entire length of the wall to document its current state in comparison to earlier photographs and drawings. For this elegant, lavishly illustrated book, Lindesay selected 72 of the most striking comparisons, juxtaposing his new photographs with the older images to illustrate the “changes inflicted by man and nature.” For example, in 1937, the Chinese photographer Sha Fei snapped a picture of the Three Towers in the Hebei section of the wall, capturing the power of the towers with their battlements intact. Over 70 years later, as Lindesay’s photo shows, none of the towers still stand. In sections of the wall at Shanhaiguan, Lindesay’s photos reveal that towers farther up the mountain remain in better condition those lower down, possibly because locals took the stones for building materials. Lindesay’s album—a gorgeous visual complement to John Man’s The Great Wall (Reviews, July 7)— provides a one-of-a-kind time-lapse view of the wall and a thoughtful lesson about the preservation of historical monuments. (Sept.)

Drawing on what he claims has been a history of suppression by England’s political and religious authorities, Scottish writer Ardrey says Merlin did indeed exist but that our image of him is a myth: Merlin wasn’t a wizard and King Arthur’s “avuncular” counselor but a revered scholar, politician and military commander in central Scotland in the late sixth and early seventh centuries. Merlin was a Celt, Ardrey claims, not an Anglo-Saxon, and was not Christian but adhered to the old ways of the druids, who sought to live harmoniously with others and with nature. Together with the great warlord Arthur Mac Aedan, son of the king of Scots, Merlin led the Britons and their Scots allies against the Angles. Ardrey takes aim at Mungo, Glasgow’s patron saint and Merlin’s archenemy, depicting him as the ruthlessly ambitious head of a group of Catholic fundamentalists “akin to the twenty-first-century Taliban,” whose exploits were distorted by his 12th-century hagiographer, Jocelyn of Furness. Merlin is an enticing biographical subject, but Ardrey’s pedantic style, his dull dissection of Jocelyn, and his long-winded digressions into the cross-dressing of Mungo’s father or why Merlin couldn’t have built Stonehenge don’t enhance his argument. (Sept.)

The Roman empire was not invaded by barbarians in the fifth century, says classical historian O’Donnell. Rather, these tribes—Visigoths, Vandals and others—were refugees who crossed into the empire in search of a place to settle. These migrants were turned into enemies by Rome. O’Donnell (Augustine), former provost of Georgetown, supports this controversial thesis by drawing on primary sources to analyze the geopolitical errors that led to Rome’s fall. Emperor Theodoric, he says, had preserved social order and prosperity among the various peoples of the vast empire. But seven years later, Justinian squandered that good order. He failed to make peace with Persia in the east by not emphasizing a common interest of trade; he failed to establish good relations with the kings of the western Mediterranean and to develop his own homeland, the Balkans; finally, by banning certain Christian sects, he alienated some border regions and sowed the seeds of rebellion. These failures not only divided the empire, they made it vulnerable to attack from peoples that had once been friends. O’Donnell’s richly layered book provides significant glimpses into the many factors that leveled a mighty empire. 20 illus. and maps. (Sept.)

Narrative histories of the Crusades tend toward bloody accounts of a particular Crusade. This imaginative thematic treatment draws on all the Crusades to portray them coherently as a centuries-long institution of “armed pilgrimage,” with its own religious ideology, economic imperatives, social dynamics and folkways. After a lucid synopsis of the seven major Crusades from 1096 to 1291, British historian Housley (University of Leicester) offers a topical survey of the crusader experience, drawn from letters, songs and other primary sources. He covers the recruitment of crusaders by “superstar” preachers; the horrific journeys by sea (with terrifying storms and wormy food) or land (with Turkish attacks and no food at all); protocols for plundering cities; attitudes toward the Muslim foe; commoners’ resentment for their overlords; and the occasionally triumphant but often dejected homecoming. The chapter on crusader warfare, which corrects the usual overemphasis on knightly cavalry, is especially good. Throughout, Housley focuses on crusading as a sincere, if easily misdirected, expression of Catholic belief, a march toward personal salvation through the collective recovery of the Holy Land. This rich, multifaceted study imparts a deeper understanding of why and how medieval Christendom went to war. Photos, maps. (Sept.)

When the 1st Princess of Wales’s Royal Regiment, under Mills’s command, was told they’d be heading to Iraq in November 2003, the war was no longer much of a news item in Britain. But, says Mills, “We didn’t give a toss... we were going somewhere interesting.” The battalion was assigned to al-Amarah: 400,000 people and a center of support for Shia cleric Moqtada al-Sadr. Under heavy sniper fire and mortar attacks, British peacekeeping gave way to a full-scale military operation. Mills powerfully describes the demanding work of his snipers before and after the city was brought under control (more or less). The work’s real value is its insight into the contemporary British army. Mills and his comrades are professionals, unconcerned with the wider aspects of their assignment; “They’ll fight out of their skin for you,” Mills notes. One man deals with stress by masturbating. Another fails to deal with it, and his transfer is matter-of-fact, with no moral dimension. British participation in Iraq has been largely ignored in the U.S. That should change with Mills’s page-turning account, already an international bestseller. 16 pages of color photos; map. (Sept. 2)

Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet’s reign (1973–1990) still resonates for its brutality and its role in pioneering controversial free-market development policies. This thoughtful retrospective explores that history from a unique perspective. Muñoz, an official in the Allende government overthrown by Pinochet in 1973, found himself vainly confronting the coup with a revolver and a fistful of dynamite, dodging arrest while friends disappeared into the junta’s dungeons. In the 1980s he became a leader of the moderate left opposition. His first-hand account of the political movement that, with crucial help from abroad, forced Pinochet from power in 1990, is both shrewd and inspiring. Muñoz, who is now Chile’s ambassador to the U.N., is measured in his condemnation of the dictatorship and cognizant of the unstable political environment that formed it. He gives the regime’s economic program mixed reviews, on the one hand crediting it with reinvigorating Chile’s economy while admitting that it has left most Chileans worse off. He paints Pinochet as a complex character—a canny operator, a “man of limited intellect” and an ideological lightning rod. Combining sharp historical analysis with telling personal recollections, this is an excellent assessment of a tyrant and his legacy. Photos. (Sept.)

Famed for his dictionary, “Rambler” essays and The Lives of the English Poets, Samuel Johnson (1709–1784) remains one of the most-quoted and carefully observed authors who ever lived. On the occasion of Johnson’s tercentenary, Martin (A Life of James Boswell) searches out the psychological elements covered up by Boswell and others: the immense insecurities, bouts of deep depression, corrosive self-doubt and, in his last days, despair for his very soul. He grew up the illness-wracked, nearly blind son of a backwater bookseller. Martin shows how Johnson’s distant relationships with his family came to haunt him on the death of each member. Likewise, Johnson’s strange mannerisms and disfigurement, marriage to a woman twice his age and poverty early in his career further shaped his psyche. Through all this, Martin says, Johnson was also a bit of a ladies’ man, and notes in Johnson’s journal references to the practice or condition of “M.,” which, Martin speculates, stands for masturbation or defecation. Martin admirably succeeds in giving a new generation Dr. Johnson, warts and all, from the inside, though in prose that remains only serviceable. 30 b&w illus., map. (Sept.)

To a growing list of books about the myths and mysteries of American boys and young males, Kimmel, a sociologist and author of Manhood In America, adds this deft exploration grounded in research. Based on more than 400 interviews, over a four-year span, with young men ages 16–26, Kimmel’s study shows that the guys who live in “Guyland” are mostly white, middle-class, totally confused and cannot commit to their relationships, work or lives. Although they seem baffled by the riddles of manhood and responsibility, they submit to the “Guy Code,” where locker-room behaviors, sexual conquests, bullying, violence and assuming a cocky jock pose can rule over the sacrifice and conformity of marriage and family. Obsessed with never wanting to grow up, this demographic, which is 22 million strong, craves video games, sports and depersonalized sexual relationships. In the end, Kimmel offers a highly practical guide to male youth. (Sept.)

At long last, an enthusiastic, significant rehabilitation of Paddleford’s career as food writer from 1936 to 1966 at the New York Herald Tribune. Alexander, whose article on Paddleford for Saveur won the James Beard Journalism Award in 2002, and Harris, the archivist at Kansas State Univ., to which native Paddleford left her papers, happily resurrect Paddleford’s work. An indefatigable journalist, Paddleford broke with the staid home-economics primers of the era. With humble Midwest beginnings and a degree in industrial journalism, Paddleford set out for New York City to make a name for herself, and found that her energy and sheer prodigiousness opened doors at popular publications like Farm & Fireside, Christian Herald and This Week, the Tribune’s Sunday magazine. Influenced by the peripatetic culinary adventures of salesman Duncan Hines, Paddleford launched, in 1948, a series of columns in This Week called “How America Eats,” spotlighting regional cooks and their down-home specialties. With her trademark florid prose and historic touches, Paddleford became widely known, and her subsequent book, How America Eats (1960), became a bestseller. The authors make an upbeat case for reconsidering Paddleford’s achievement in this enjoyable read, and include a slew of her comfort recipes. (Sept.)

One of the reasons Orson Welles’s dramatization of The War of the Worlds convinced so many people that New Jersey was really being invaded by Martians was that radio listeners of the late 1930s had grown accustomed to hearing scientists interviewed on the air, according to this lively history. LaFollette traces the American scientific community’s participation in mass media over a period of three decades , from the first radio appearance of Smithsonian curator Austin Clark to a series of television specials directed by Frank Capra in the 1950s. From the beginning, she writes, such programming was caught up in the tension between educational and entertainment value, and the lecture-like format of early science shows gradually gave way to more dramatic presentations. Commercial pressures also kept controversial topics like evolution off the airwaves, and scientists were wary of getting involved with the sensationalist press. Though flecked with colorful details—like Clark’s insistence that guests on his program wear tuxedos—LaFollette’s approach is strongly academic; a brief epilogue hints at a potential parallel between early radio and early podcasting, but the analysis remains inconclusive. (Sept.)

Tyler, daughter of Aerosmith’s Steven Tyler and sister to actress Liv, feels she’s had a difficult life. Growing up, she disliked her mother and longed for more time with her famous father. After her parents split up, she and her mother lived in New Hampshire before moving to Manhattan, where Tyler was enrolled in several fine schools—only she spent her time hanging out with her buddies getting high on pot, acid, cocaine, Ecstasy, etc. Her father intervened after she suffered a massive overdose: “it paid to have a rock star for a dad,” she says. Once on her feet again, Tyler was kept therapeutically busy with a lucrative offer from Lane Bryant to model clothing for plus-size teens. Months later she came to visit her mother and found her slimmer and in love. They bonded—but then her mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor that proved fatal. Tyler, constantly falling in and out of love, finally realized that the point wasn’t to find herself, but to create herself, a questionable insight. Not only that, she comes across as spoiled and shallow. (Sept.)

Culled from Bon Appetit magazine’s “Fast, Fresh, Easy” column, this recipe compendium is one of the largest available for those who love to cook and eat well but lack time on weeknights to make dishes that require hours to prepare. Although Fairchild forgoes estimates of how long each dish may take to make, and a number of entries may not qualify as “fast” for some cooks, especially beginners, the recipes are generally simple, if not foolproof, and cover a vast territory of cuisines. Ingredient lists are short, seldom running over 10 items and rely on the use of the freshest, finest foods available; a helpful shopping guide at the beginning is a welcome aid to those not yet versed in the ingredients’ seasonality or optimal appearance. Similarly, a wealth of boxed hints and tips offer an extra level of help to get people cooking confidently. Even if the “fast” and “easy” labels don’t always apply, anyone looking for a reliable source of relatively uncomplicated, tasty dishes will be thrilled to find this. Color photos not seen by PW. (Oct.)

Degroff (The Craft of the Cocktail) likes to be referred to as the “King of Cocktails,” and it is hard to argue the point. During his stint as bartender at Manhattan’s Rainbow Room, he shunned packaged mixes and ushered in the use of fresh ingredients for classic drinks as well as potables of his own device. In this book, he offers 100 popular whistle-wetters and 100 variations thereof—martinis, sours, highballs and punches are all well represented. A Bloody Mary is never shaken, but rather “rolled back and forth,” while a Bloody Bull adds beef broth to the recipe and can stand up to a vigorous shake. There’s the lowly Long Island Iced Tea, mated with a variation called a Full Monte, which calls for Champagne instead of cola. And a basic Daiquiri (rum, simple syrup, lime juice) is out-boxed by Dale’s Hemingway Daiquiri, which adds Maraschino liqueur and grapefruit juice to the mix. 150 full-color photos help sweeten the deal, and historical asides provide fine fodder for party chit-chat. The Tequila Sunrise, it turns out, was created south of the border during Prohibition and included fresh lemonade and French cassis. But when the drink traveled north, inexperienced bartenders dumbed it down to today’s mix of OJ and grenadine. Where was a cocktail king when we needed one? (Oct.)

Kenny Shopsin hates publicity the way a magnet must hate metal filings. With a documentary, a New Yorker profile and several New York Times articles clinging to him, this supposedly reluctant restaurateur now adds to his own troubles by releasing a totally hilarious and surprisingly touching treatise on cooking, customer loyalty and family bonds. As his brood grew to include five kids, his Manhattan eatery shrunk in size, yet maintained its idiosyncratic 900-item menu (reproduced here in a 12-page spread). Recipes for more than 100 of the offerings are presented, including Mac n Cheese Pancakes and Blisters on My Sisters (sunny-side-up eggs placed atop tortillas and a rice and bean concoction). But the real treat is Shopsin’s salty philosophizing. Sure, pancakes are tasty, but he reminds us that, “They are flour and milk drowned in butter and some form of sugar. They’re crap.” And the customer is always wrong “until they show me they are worth cultivating” as customers. Two such well-cultivated customers were the writer Calvin Trillin and his wife, Alice. They pop up throughout the book, providing not only happy reminiscences, but a roux of poignancy as both Shopsin and Trillin become widowers, bonded together over the love of a decent meal, quickly rendered. (Sept.)

Former head of SADD (renamed Students Against Destructive Decisions), now a professional speaker, Wallace regularly visits schools to spread the alarm about risky behavior by teenagers—drinking and drug abuse, sex, bullying, and indulging in violence and self-destruction—and how to generate more effective communication between them and their parents. In this vigorous wakeup call for adults, he culls results from rather fuzzy, nonscientific SADD polls taken by the research project Teens Today that show how far apart teenagers and parents really are on these issues—the reality gap of the title. Moving from the statistics-heavy “Epidemic” chapter, which chronicles a staggering litany of perils like STDs and suicide, Wallace examines the turbulent changes wrought by adolescence in terms of physical, cognitive, and social-emotional development. He devotes the latter part of his work to proactive strategies for dispelling myths that keep parents in “blissful ignorance”—about the availability of drugs and alcohol, for one thing. Though the presentation can be scattershot and repetitive, Wallace’s hands-on research and in-depth interviews are tremendously useful, as are his discussions of the role of the media and the mixed signals gleaned from parents. (Sept.)

Vegan Skinny Bitch authors Freedman and Barnouin are back, this time focusing on nutrition and diet during pregnancy. Their commentary will be familiar to Skinny Bitch fans who prefer fruits, veggies, nuts, seeds, grains and legumes to meat, fish and dairy. Characteristically feisty and foul-mouthed (e.g., they refer to the reader as “dumb-ass”), these in-your-face, incisive authors have done their research, exposing a host of health issues related to the use of bovine growth hormone and antibiotics in farm animals. Repeating the mantra “you and your baby are what you eat,” they explain the effects of pesticides in foods (with links to learning disabilities, developmental delays and behavioral disorders), how a high protein diet in pregnancy can lead to high blood pressure, stress and diabetes in the child, and the connection between mercury in fish and birth defects. Insisting that a vegan diet is healthy for both baby and mom (a claim substantiated by the AMA), the authors also include sample menus and vegan tips to satisfy food cravings. Passionately questioning the status quo, Freedman and Barnouin make a compelling case for a vegan pregnancy. (Sept.)

Burk, a historian at University College, London, provides a sweeping, history of relations between Great Britain and the American colonies (later, the United States). As one of the most respected historians at work today, Burk (The British Isles Since 1945) eloquently takes the reader from the period of the Virginia and Plymouth Companies, founded in 1606, to the Blair/Bush partnership during the early days of the Iraq war. Going well beyond diplomatic history, Burk reveals the rabid Anglophobia in the 19th-century United States, when many Americans believed in the inevitability of another war with Brits seeking to regain control of their lost colonies. This sentiment, Burk shows, was intensified by British tolerance of the Confederacy. At the same time, the author demonstrates how, during the same period, the British viewed the burgeoning U.S. as more of an economic threat than a military or imperial one. In turn, the much-touted “special relationship” of the 20th century involved more tension than affection, and for the most part was based on perceived mutual self-interest against common threats. This stunning and important work is destined to become the benchmark study of this topic for many years to come. (Oct.)