Nonfiction Reviews

Maclean (1902–1990), an English professor at the University of Chicago, did not establish himself as a writer until late in his life, but quickly gained national acclaim in 1989 for A River Runs Through It and Other Stories. His posthumous nonfiction account of doomed firefighters, Young Men and Fire, was also praised by critics. Excerpts from both of these works are in this anthology, skillfully edited by Weltzien, to provide a broad and chronological selection from nearly four decades of Maclean's writing. The book includes six previously unpublished pieces, five of them chapters from his uncompleted book on Custer, written between 1959 and 1963. Another standout piece is a 1986 interview in which Maclean ranges widely from the rhythms of prose, his own influences and his native state of Montana to creative writing, fly-fishing and publishers who rejected A River Runs Through It. Readers of the two earlier books will find, as Weltzien phrases it, “new biographical insights into one of the most remarkable and unexpected careers in American letters.” (Nov.)

It is unfortunate for University of Texas historian Brands (Andrew Jackson) that his serviceable biography of Franklin Roosevelt comes on the heels of Jean Smith's magisterial Francis Parkman Prize winner, FDR (2007). Still, Brands provides an entirely adequate narrative detailing the well-known facts of Roosevelt's life. We have the young Knickerbocker aristocrat somewhat tentatively entering the dog-eat-dog world of local Democratic politics in New York's Hudson Valley. We have him embarking on a marriage with his cousin Eleanor that was fated to be politically successful but personally disastrous. We also have the somewhat spoiled son of privilege facing the first real battle of his life—polio—and emerging with greatly enhanced fortitude and empathy. Appropriately, Brands gives two-thirds of his book to FDR's presidency and its two most dramatic events: the domestic war against devastating economic depression (fought with tools that many in America's upper classes considered socialist), and the international war against Axis power aggression. It is fitting that Roosevelt commands the amount of scholarly attention that he does, but sad that so much is wholly redundant with what has come before. 16 pages of photos. (Nov. 4)

Jeffrey and Dyson, professors at the University of Washington, have collected a series of “portraits” of young people between the ages of 16 and 30 that connect their personal stories to larger political and sociological narratives. The 13 vignettes that make up the book document the lives of young people from around the globe, including diary entries and photos taken by the subjects. The editors have been careful to include examples from a variety of regions, such as the rural Himalayas, urban Edinburgh and the streets of New York City. Each chapter provides insight not only into the life being examined but also the youth's political and social milieu. Many provide helpful, if limited, historical context for those unfamiliar with the details of apartheid South Africa or the Balkan conflicts, while personalizing themes of globalization, alienation and changing modes of political participation. The book has an obvious critical theory bent; while eschewing most jargon and cumbersome academic citations, the editors acknowledge the influence of “postcolonial and feminist approaches to knowledge construction.” The range of subjects and the accessibility of the writing make this a valuable complement to more theoretical texts and undeniably useful in the classroom. (Oct.)

Part academic treatise, part titillation (“there were forty or so young people present, all naked or in their undergarments... some having oral, anal, [or]vaginal sex”), Mahdavi's work argues that the social and sexual practices of the urban young adults “who comprise two-thirds of Iran's population” constitute a form of political dissent and rebellion. While the punishments for premarital sex, drinking and dancing are severe, the author, a journalist and assistant professor of anthropology at Pomona College, captures a hedonistic, postadolescent and pure pop culture spirit, reflecting the interests and activities of the “highly mobile, highly educated... underemployed” and secular young Tehranis she followed over a seven-year period. Specialists in gender studies will find Mahdavi's work of interest; unfortunately, her book is suffused with a sense of outsider voyeurism (the author's parents are Iranian; she made her first trip there in 2000)—apparent in such her discomfiting statements as “Tell me, the stranger who can keep your secrets, about your sex life.” And while, inarguably, “changes in fashion,” as Mahdavi says, “have deep social and political significance,” readers will likely feel that these shifting sartorial trends indicate gradual social change rather than the revolution at which the author hints. (Oct.)

Weaver (1907–1997), the first black cabinet secretary (Department of Housing and Urban Development, 1966–1968) has become “a marginal figure in our public discussion today,” but “for almost half of the century,” Pritchett asserts, Weaver “shaped the development of American racial and urban policy.” Pritchett follows Weaver from the Roosevelt to the Johnson administrations, guiding the reader safely through the mine field of acronymic government agencies, various foundations and academic institutions (he was the first president of Baruch College) in which Weaver played a role. Weaver's targets were racially restrictive covenants and the entrenchment of segregation in both public housing policy and government supported loans; compromises involving the latter made him a controversial figure as the civil rights movement burgeoned. Pritchett's biography is an exhaustive but well-paced account of a life more absorbed by political process and research than by social or political drama. Yet, as Pritchett shows, Weaver “was instrumental in the implementation of every major urban initiative, including public housing, urban renewal, affirmative action, rent control, and fair housing.” (Oct.)

Williams (The Open Space of Democracy) travels to Ravenna, Italy, a town famous for its ancient mosaics, to “learn a new language with my hands.” Back home in Utah, Williams views the lives of a clan of endangered prairie dogs—a species essential to the ecological mosaic of the grasslands and the creators of “the most sophisticated animal language decoded so far”—through the rules of Italian mosaics. After intimate study of a prairie dog town at Bryce Canyon, her visit to 19th-century prairie dog specimens at the American Museum of Natural History segues, dreamlike, to a glass case of bones from the genocide in Rwanda, where Williams, overwhelmed by the death of her brother but knowing that her “own spiritual evolution depended upon it,” travels with artist Lily Yeh, who “understands mosaic as taking that which is broken and creating something whole,” to build a memorial with genocide survivors. The book, itself a skillful, nuanced mosaic (“a conversation between what is broken... a conversation with light, with color, with form”) uses this “way of thinking about the world” to convincingly “make the connection between racism and specism” and sensitively argues for respect for life in all its myriad forms. (Oct.)

Blount (Long Time Leaving) is a contributing editor to the Atlantic Monthly, a regular panelist on NPR's Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me! quiz show and a usage consultant to the American Heritage Dictionary. He displays his pleasure in words with his subtitle—“The Energies, Gists, and Spirits of Letters, Words, and Combinations Thereof; Their Roots, Bones, Innards, Piths, Pips, and Secret Parts, Tinctures, Tonics, and Essences; with Examples of Their Usage Foul and Savory”—as he dishes up an alphabetical array of “verbal reverberations,” weasel words and linguistic acrobatics from “aardvark” to “zoology” (“Pronounced zo-ology. Not zoo-ology. Look at the letters. Count the o's”). Along the way, he compares dictionaries, slings slang, digs for roots, posts ripostes and dotes on anecdotes. The format is nearly identical to Roy Copperud's still valuable but out-of-print A Dictionary of Usage and Style (1964). Blount's book is equally instructive and scholarly, but is also injected with a full dose of word play on steroids. Quotes, quips, euphemisms, rhymes and rhythms, literary references (“Lo-lee-ta”) and puns: “The lowest form of wit, it used to be said, but that was before Ann Coulter.” Throughout, the usage advice is sage and also fun, since the writer's own wild wit, while bent and Blount, is razor sharp. (Oct. 21)

Here is a lean, incisive biographical-critical book by one of our outstanding literary commentators. In compelling personal writing, White (Genet: A Biography) shows how one of the heroes of French culture, Arthur Rimbaud (1854–1891), led a double life—in many forms. He who famously declared, “I is another,” abruptly abandoned the literary life, virtually as a teenager, for more than 15 years until his death. Unconventionally beautiful, from a provincial middle-class background and something of a mama's boy, the lover of Paul Verlaine was bisexual and secretly craved conventional worldly success even as his aesthetic was in the Symbolist “art-for-art's-sake” mode, portrayed by White as part shaman, part alcoholic and drug addict, part Catholic saint, Rimbaud remains a phenomenon in world literature. Included in this literary biography are White's superb translations of works he is discussing and fresh insights into Rimbaud's destructive relationship with Verlaine in particular, as well as with other poets, family, friends and business associates. This is a disturbing and original portrait of a man White sees as a fallen angel who misbehaved even in hell. (Oct. 6)

Acclaimed British historian Hibbert's latest work focuses on three members of the notorious Borgia family of Spain, who came to power in Rome with the election of Alfonso de Borgia (1378–1458), the scholarly bishop of Valencia, to the papacy as Calixtus III. Calixtus's nephew Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia (1431–1503) was known for decadence as well as keen administrative skills. Cardinal Rodrigo played a key role in electing Pope Sixtus IV, had a lucrative career as vice chancellor under five popes, fathered several children and bribed his way to becoming pope himself, as Alexander VI, in 1492. His children were infamous, including the unscrupulous military leader and politician Cesare (1475–1507), who inspired Machiavelli's The Prince and murdered his own brother and brother-in-law to achieve his goals, while his daughter Lucrezia (1480–1519) overcame an incestuous reputation to become a respected patron of the arts as duchess of Ferrara. The book is a heavily researched and generally engrossing account of a famous dynasty, but readers may wish Hibbert (The Rise and Fall of the House of Medici) had used a more assertive and analytical voice to accompany the detailed descriptions of Renaissance life. (Oct.)

In 1797, eight years after the French Revolution, an obscure general, Napoleon Bonaparte, became a national hero after a brilliant campaign in Italy. Equally impressed with his own genius, he formed the idea of conquering Egypt and, like his idol, Alexander, marching on to India. Nonfiction author and award-winning novelist Strathern (Big Idea: Scientists Who Changed the World) turns up plenty of surprises in an enthralling history of the first of Napoleon's world-class debacles. With extraordinary logistical skill and luck, Napoleon led 40,000 men and hundreds of ships across the Mediterranean to Alexandria in 1798. Defeating local armies and occupying the capital, Cairo, proved easy, but difficulties arose despite genuine efforts to replace a corrupt government with French ideals of freedom and justice. A nasty insurgency developed; Admiral Nelson destroyed Napoleon's fleet; and the British also frustrated his invasion of Palestine. Abandoning his tattered army after a year under brutal desert conditions, Napoleon returned to France, pronouncing the invasion an unqualified success. Stories of powerful men making disastrous decisions have an endless fascination, and Strathern makes the most of it in this entertaining account. Illus., maps. (Oct. 21)

The bicentenary of Lewis and Clark's great expedition to the Pacific may have passed, but the public's fascination with the adventures of the Corps of Discovery will never dissipate. Tubbs (coauthor of The Lewis and Clark Companion: An Encyclopedic Guide to the Voyage of Discovery), daughter of the late historian Stephen Ambrose (the bestselling author of the Lewis and Clark biography Undaunted Courage), collects 11 pithy, amusing essays on a wide variety of topics related to the intrepid explorers. One of the most interesting is the analysis of what ailed Meriwether Lewis, a loner who committed suicide: Tubbs believes that he suffered from Asperger's syndrome, a form of highly functioning autism. But there is little connective tissue between the pieces, creating a disjointed effect. Some essays are historically oriented, others personal (“Paddling into Bodmer” is a narrative of a camping and boat trip, for instance), and one wonders whether a more intense focus on either the historical or the personal would have better served readers. Nevertheless, for Lewis and Clark aficionados this little volume should find a place on their bookshelves. (Oct. 21)

Bancroft Prize–winning historian Reynolds (Walt Whitman's America) offers a fine addition to the literature on pre–Civil War American history in this account of the years 1815–1848. Exhilarated after defying Britain in the War of 1812, Americans redirected their energy into moving west, making money and wiping out every trace of elitism in their leaders. This resulted, after four aristocratic Virginians and two scholarly Adamses as president, in the election in 1828 of the uneducated frontiersman Andrew Jackson, who launched the unique American tradition of leaders who boast that they are no smarter than the electorate. While the politics of the era are familiar to many, even knowledgeable readers will relish the chapters on social history, in which Reynolds explains how a rapidly growing economy spurred both “prudishness and prostitution,” and the enormous consumption of alcohol that spawned the temperance movement. Most, according to Reynolds, took for granted that anyone not like them (blacks, Indians, perhaps even Canadians) belonged to subhuman races. Although less opinionated than Sean Wilentz and Daniel Walker Howe on this period, Reynolds delivers a straightforward, insightful history of America during its bumptious adolescence. 44 b&w illus. (Oct.)

This is both a portrait of Thomas Edison and a record of the vast changes to the region of Fort Myers, Fla., as it grew from a remote and unspoiled wilderness into a popular modern resort area with the attendant problems of overdevelopment and environmental damage. When Edison decided in 1885 to build a winter retreat and laboratory in Fort Myers, the region was regarded as a “frontier outpost.” The local paper proudly announced Edison's decision, and the town enjoyed an economic boom as construction progressed on the inventor's compound. Edison's new second wife, young Ohio-born Mina Miller, arrived in Fort Myers in 1886 and initially found the lack of running water and abundance of bugs ”miserable.” But she grew to love the place and became a strong advocate for both the people and the environment. Albion, former curator of the Edison and Ford Winter Estates, writes with an eye for extraordinary as well as ordinary details, from the difficult task of lighting Fort Myers in the late 1880s to family expeditions up the Caloosahatchee River and into the Everglades. B&w illus., maps. (Oct. 5)

Hitler's personal library of over 16,000 volumes was picked clean by American troops. But Ryback found 1,200 of Hitler's volumes in the Library of Congress and other caches scattered through the U.S. and Europe. By looking at the books Hitler read (sometimes obsessively, judging from marginalia and other signs of wear and tear), Ryback paints an unusually vivid and nuanced portrait of the dictator. Among the authors and works Hitler was most interested in were Shakespeare (in translation), whose grand historical subjects, Hitler felt, made him superior to Schiller and Goethe; Henry Ford's anti-Semitic The International Jew; adventure novelist Karl May; Dietrich Eckart's interpretation of Ibsen's Peer Gynt; works of the occult and esoterica; and Thomas Carlyle, particularly his biography of Frederick the Great. Ryback (The Last Survivor: Legacies of Dachau) offers a unique view of Hitler's intellectual life. 47 photos. (Oct. 22)

A scholar and documentary film maker (Why We Fight), Jarecki presents a succinct explanation of why modern presidents can make war whenever they feel like it. Jarecki writes that America's founders worried about presidential belligerence, so the Constitution gave war-making authority to Congress, which declared all our foreign wars through WWII—and none afterward. Drawing on historical research and interviews, he emphasizes that the young America was less isolationist than histories proclaim, invading Canada and Mexico several times and taking great interest in international affairs. But war fever really arose only with the start of the Cold War. Suddenly presidents commanded an enormous peacetime force and wielded the immense powers Roosevelt had acquired in WWII. Since then, Congress has gone along with presidential decisions to make war (then grumble if it doesn't go well). Today President Bush asserts that terrorism requires a perpetual state of emergency and that he will launch a pre-emptive war if he detects a threat to America's security. In this illuminating—and to some, perhaps, discouraging—book, Jarecki says there is only a modest groundswell of opinion to curb presidential powers. (Oct. 14)

Over the past 100 years, Yale University Press has ably steered a course through publishing's stormy seas, producing a host of memorable scholarly monographs as well as bestsellers. Bibliophile Basbanes (A Gentle Madness) offers a glowing tribute, reviewing the press's history from its first book in 1909 (Benjamin W. Bacon's The Beginning of the Gospel Story) to its recent establishment of a digital edition of Stalin's personal archive. Drawing on interviews and records, Basbanes chronicles the press's growth; the canny decisions to publish definitive collections of the writings of important American figures, such as Benjamin Franklin; and groundbreaking titles like David Reisman's The Lonely Crowd, Paul Tillich's The Courage to Be and Camille Paglia's Sexual Personae. Basbanes captures the personalities of the press's directors, from the first, George Day, to the current one, John Donatich, as well as publication committee members and authors, including historian Edmund S. Morgan and former Yale president A. Bartlett Giamatti. Yale remains a model of publishing vitality, but the internal goings-on of even so prestigious a press will interest only a few. (Oct.)

Short on pages but long on repetition, this newest book by Godin (Purple Cow) argues that lasting and substantive change can be best effected by a tribe: a group of people connected to each other, to a leader and to an idea. Smart innovators find or assemble a movement of similarly minded individuals and get the tribe excited by a new product, service or message, often via the Internet (consider, for example, the popularity of the Obama campaign, Facebook or Twitter). Tribes, Godin says, can be within or outside a corporation, and almost everyone can be a leader; most are kept from realizing their potential by fear of criticism and fear of being wrong. The book's helpful nuggets are buried beneath esoteric case studies and multiple reiterations: we can be leaders if we want, “tribes” are the way of the future and change is good. On that last note, the advice found in this book should be used with caution. “Change isn't made by asking permission,” Godin says. “Change is made by asking forgiveness, later.” That may be true, but in this economy and in certain corporations, it may also be a good way to lose a job. (Oct.)

In this history of investment bank Goldman Sachs, Ellis (Winning the Loser's Game) covers the same ground as Lisa Endlich's Goldman Sachs: The Culture of Success—with notable stylistic differences. From Marcus Goldman's purchase of his first commercial paper in 1869 to the firm's current success, Ellis's account is lively and engaging where Endlich's is accurate but dry. Ellis sheds light on events through dialogue and detailed descriptions of people's thoughts and feelings, embellishments that the author terms “recreations” in his epilogue. The effect of infusing such narrative techniques into the history of Goldman Sachs is entertaining, but it pushes the envelope of nonfiction, especially since the author appears to have interviewed only former partners of the firm. More damagingly, Ellis fails to report much about actual business, and attempts to do so—such as a chapter on Rockefeller Center financing—require lengthy digressions and are incomprehensible due to the complexities of the transactions. Without links to business, boardroom conflicts take on the air of petty squabbles. More a composite memoir of senior Goldman partners than a traditional history, this book will satisfy readers curious about the philosophies and personalities of the firm. (Oct.)

Anderson has compiled interviews from her radio talk show into a self-help guide that gets off to a wobbly start with a maudlin introduction that argues in favor of using impending death as the starting point for making career decisions. The author suggests determining which activities—if never pursued—would fill the reader with the most regret if they suddenly discovered they were going to die tomorrow. Subsequent sections offer glimpses into how other people made their lives work for them after finding their job was keeping them from enjoying their lives. Unfortunately, aside from sharing manifold examples, Anderson provides no concrete steps; rather, she defers to the classic career book, What Color Is Your Parachute? These short conversational stories attempt, merely by presenting a series of success stories, to inspire those who want to make life-altering changes, and after the first 20 or so testaments to the joy of finding a true calling, the results start to wear thin. Spending time reading about other people's happiness seems like yet another delay in getting off the couch to find one's own. (Oct.)

Corporate psychologist Tasler draws on years of research and the latest findings in genetics, neurology and management theory to explore the benefits and dangerous consequences of human impulsiveness. At the heart of the author's argument is his pioneering “Impulse Factor Test,” an online assessment that classifies people as “risk managers” or “potential seekers.” According to Tasler, potential seekers are quick to identify new opportunities and are comfortable making important decisions, but their tendency to “shoot first and apologize later” can lead to trouble if not tempered; conversely, risk managers favor careful nurturing of existing opportunities, providing the stability businesses need to survive, but they often miss opportunities for growth because they are inherently cautious. This intriguing and highly readable analysis demonstrates how both groups can enhance their decision making and is enlivened by dramatic stories of innovators from St. Francis to Bill Gates and scientific reports on impulsiveness in different species and in hyperactive children. Tasler's pragmatic advice on leveraging the talents of both the brash and the bashful make this rewarding reading for anyone in the business world. (Oct.)

In this collection of meditations, Toms (True Work: Doing What you Love and Loving What You Do) offers harried overachievers a moment of respite, directing them through daily contemplation and humble rituals to reflect on wide-ranging topics—Buddhist proverbs, activism, service, connection with nature and the dynamism of “sparkle brain,” a flexible and adaptive mindset. The diminutive essays are vaguely organized under broad sections (“A Wider Landscape,” “Animals and Nature As Teacher,” “Be an Activist Without Driving Yourself Crazy,” “Circles and Friendships,” “Celebrations and Rituals”) that are appealing, but do not offer a cohesive enough thread to sew together the author's prescriptions. Two pieces do deserve special attention: “A Sense of Place,” a tender tribute to childhood, and “Circle of Your Own: Take The First Steps,” in which Toms credits Rev. Mary Manin Morrissey with the notion that everything is born twice—first in the imagination and then in the physical world—a compelling axiom as well as an elegant subtheme for the entire volume. Rather than a cover-to-cover read, Toms's slender book can best be accessed when needed and according to mood. (Oct.)

This self-help book for the substance-abusing artistically—and atheistically—inclined is both a ringing endorsement of AA and a brilliant piece of literary performance with poetic and savagely funny insights. Spoken word artist Sinister—a self-professed “misfit” and recovering alcoholic and addict—celebrates sobriety and provides a methodical analysis of the 12-Step program interpolated with biting commentary (“The difference between the Bible and a Magic Eightball is that 400 years ago, you would've been burned at the stake for owning a Magic Eightball”) and encouragement that is, by turns, sincere (in particular a foray into why artists are so prone to addictions) and comic (“Finding Your Inner A-Team”). The book is a wild mixture of autobiography, philosophy, social criticism, pop culture and nuttiness: the consummate self-help book for those too cool for self-help books. Although the author occasionally veers uncomfortably close to glamorizing his addictions, his advice is sound, detailed and heartfelt. (Oct.)

Few people think of flies, scorpions or potato bugs as weapons of war, but entomologist Lockwood (Grasshopper Dreaming), winner of a Pushcart Prize and a James Burroughs Award, details in this fascinating study how creepy crawlies have been used against the enemy since antiquity. The Romans' siege of a desert fortress ended abruptly when buckets of scorpions were dumped on their heads. Many a medieval army catapulted beehives or hornets' nests over a castle's ramparts to drive out the defenders. The Vietcong used a version of this trick, setting off small explosives near huge beehives when American soldiers walked by. Lockwood tells how the Japanese used Chinese civilians as human guinea pigs in their program to weaponize plague and other diseases. And Lockwood explores charges by the North Koreans and Fidel Castro that America has called out insect troops on occasion as well. Fortunately, as the author points out, insects aren't very cooperative soldiers, and using them to deliver diseases is much easier said than done. Both science and military history buffs will learn much from Lockwood, a self-described “skeptic with a sense of humor.” 49 b&w illus. (Oct.)

Calder, who arrived in Paris in 1926 as an Ashcan School realist painter with a degree in engineering, came into his own there as a central figure of the Modern movement. He became known in avant-garde circles for his wire figures and portraits (many represented here), toys and jewelry. Between 1926 and 1931, he built the 70 figures that compose Calder's Circus, which he displayed through 1961. A visit to Piet Mondrian's studio in 1930 provided a shock that started the abstract explorations that led to the mobiles for which he is best known. Simon and Leal, curators respectively at the Whitney Museum of American Art, and the Pompidou Center, collect eight essays in this catalogue for an exhibition opening in October at the Whitney; the writings examine Calder as illustrator, surrealist and abstractionist. His Circus is examined in depth by Eleonora Nagy, its conservator, and Henry Petroski, who looking at Calder's engineering background likens the Circus in performance to the workings of an internal combustion engine. Both art professionals and the artist's many fans will find much to appreciate here. 235 color and 87 b&w illus. (Sept.)

Stewart's trademark ability to simplify everything that seems complex or overwhelming in domestic life serves her well in this excellent foundation course in cooking techniques. Like Stewart herself, its pages exude authority along with accessibility, with numerous helpful checklists, charts and boxed tips artfully arranged throughout the numbered lessons that build from essentials such as roasting chicken perfectly or wilting leafy greens just so to more involved, less frequently used methods featured as “extra credit,” such as grinding and binding meat into paté or producing a peerless vegetable puree. Each technique is illustrated by numerous stylish yet instructive photos, and accompanied by a few carefully selected recipes and variations that successfully aim to familiarize cooks with a basic procedure without inundating them with the full range of possibilities right away. They will also appreciate Stewart's concise but enlightening introductions to each chapter and the lessons within, For new cooks looking to establish a core set of kitchen skills as well as for those just looking to brush up or to have a ready reference to cooking fundamentals, this impressive volume will be an ideal choice. Color photos not seen by PW. (Oct.)

Tramonto, a partner in five Chicago restaurants, and author of Fantastico!, Amuse Bouche and Tru, returns to the food of his childhood in this homage to the osterias so common in Italy. Osterias, or taverns, offer simple and straightforward dishes designed to accompany the wine. Tramonto and coauthor Goodbody stay true to this tradition, including wine recommendations for most recipes. In addition to the usual categories, the authors include sections on breakfast, sandwiches, pizza, cheese, and side dishes. Recipes are hearty and by no means simplistic. Panettone French Toast and Sicilian Tuna Sandwiches whet the appetite, while Asparagus with Fried Egg Salad and Pecorino, and Roast Chicken Piccata-Style offer new twists to everyday ingredients. Sidebars on salmon, aged balsamic vinegar and how to cook pasta highlight ingredients and techniques to aid in the kitchen and help the cook make better purchasing decisions. A handsome and lavishly photographed collection, this will appeal to Tramonto fans and earn him an even larger following. (Oct.)

This scrumptious collection of recipes and stories from the owners of Paley's Place Bistro and Bar in Portland, Ore., offers an intriguing mélange of Eastern European Jewish, Mediterranean, mainstream American and Pacific Northwest culinary influences, from Truffled Crab Melt to Duck Wellington with Mole Sauce, designed to match a Syrah's flavors of cinnamon, clover, black pepper, cayenne, butter, chocolate, tobacco and fungus. Some recipes are almost outrageously simple, like George's Gathered Greens: mixed greens, lemon, olive oil, salt and pepper. But most are complex, and many, like Chicken Roulade, in which chicken legs are ground with herbs and wrapped with breasts in caulfat—the lacy “lining of a pig's abdominal cavity” that keeps the chicken “beautifully moist, then melts away in the cooking”—require elaborate preparation, which, fortunately, the authors illustrate with excellently detailed photos. The Paleys often highlight their suppliers, such as Gene Thiel, a potato farmer in his 70s, who “speaks of the pleasing esters present in potatoes, explaining how they affect both taste and smell” and likes to breakfast on a pan-sized steamed potato pancake with herbed scrambled eggs and vinegared bread. Recipes for “pantry” items such as ketchup, maraschino cherries and persillade (a mix of chopped garlic and parsley) are included, as well as imaginative suggestions for wines to complement the dishes. (Oct.)

While many cooks and cookbooks find inspiration in the Mediterranean's culinary traditions, this appealing, beautifully photographed tome by Jenkins (chef of New York City's Il Buco and Mangia, and the recently opened Porchetta) and Fox (editor of La Cucina Italiana) uniquely synthesizes a diversity of regional styles while adding some fresh ideas to the mix. Having grown up as the daughter of a foreign correspondent and absorbing the culinary vernacular of the countries in which her family resided (Italy, Spain, Cyprus and France), Jenkins uses the Mediterranean pantry as her foundation. She instructs how to select appropriate oils and vinegars; make the most of briny olives, anchovies and bottarga; and select cured meats and cheeses. The recipes that follow are organized almost like a restaurant menu, from a small plate of Sweet Corn Sformato to mains like Slow-Braised Pork Loin with Prunes. Jenkins acknowledges the classics in dishes such as the Tuscan peasant soup Ribollita or the chestnut meringue dessert Montebianco, but she also makes room for her own mashup interpretations, tossing spaghettini with ground lamb, yogurt and mint, and melding jasmine tea and dark chocolate in an intriguing panna cotta. Labeled as “slow-cook” or “quick-cook,” recipes are designed for ease without compromising their rich, timeless flavors. (Sept.)

In her usual bright and cheery manner, De Laurentiis (Everyday Italian) offers her newest collection of accessible Italian-accented recipes. The host of Food Network's Everyday Italian and Giada's Weekend Getaways brings to the table recipes with basic, readily available ingredients like ricotta and canned beans, with which she whips up a surprisingly diverse array of dishes, like Hearty Tomato Soup with Lemon and Rosemary, and Asparagus Lasagna. Now and again she goes out on a limb with a contemporary twist—Tomato, Watermelon and Basil Skewers or Butternut Squash and Vanilla Risotto, while an entire chapter devoted to kids' food brings out her sense of whimsy with dishes like Pizza Pot Pies. Throughout, Giada celebrates food that's refreshingly simple. (Sept.)

Goldberg, a Florida childbirth educator and lactation consultant, presents a no-nonsense, information-packed guide. While the whimsical title, cover art depicting a green-capped baby popping out of a peapod and comical illustrations might suggest a lighthearted approach, Goldberg quickly gets down to business, covering every option available to contemporary parents-to-be. Along with decisions about birth plans, she includes nutrition and exercise guides, and detailed sections on labor and delivery, with helpful checkboxes to follow during each of four labor stages. Along with standard medical information, the author covers such alternative techniques as acupressure, visualization and touch relaxation and offers offbeat snippets such as the Navajo concept of a birth circle. Care of the newborn and breastfeeding chapters are also included, as well as a balanced assessment of co-sleeping and bed sharing. In this comprehensive guide, Goldberg presents a wealth of well-organized information in a confident manner, along with more than 300 photos, illustrations and graphics, a useful glossary, trimester checklists and resource guide. (Dec.)

An oncologist and founder of BreastCancer.org, Weiss (Living Beyond Breast Cancer) and her 18-year-old daughter have surveyed 3,000 mothers and their daughters to produce this chatty but informative book on breast health for girls and adolescents. The text covers everything from getting the first bra to risk factors for breast cancer (which, the authors note, is nearly nonexistent in teens), and is peppered with questions posed by girls of all ages, ranging from when to start regular breast exams to why breasts sometimes feel painful or tender. Reassuring their readers that breasts come in all shapes and sizes, the mother-daughter duo deals with body image, teasing and bullying, surgery for breast reduction or enhancement and how to do a breast self-exam. Although they stress that for girls most lumps and pains are harmless and normal signs of growth, the message that early care of the breasts is vital rings clear. In a chapter called “Think Pink Live Green,” the authors arm girls with choices they can make for their own breast health future, including eating organic foods, avoiding drinking and smoking, exercising and keeping weight in check. This empowering book will be an excellent impetus for honest conversations about breast health and development. (Sept.)

Thomas Keneally's book Schindler's List was the basis for the Spielberg movie of the same title. Now Keneally retraces his steps in writing the book, and Metek Pemper, one of Schindler's survivors, tells his role in the mission.

Australian author Keneally was awarded the 1982 Booker Prize for his novel Schindler's List. How Keneally came to write that novel about Oskar Schindler's rescue of more than a thousand Jews from the Holocaust is a tale that, curiously enough, began in Beverly Hills while the author was promoting his Civil War novel, Confederates. Looking for a new briefcase, he entered a luggage shop owned by the ebullient, charismatic Leopold “Poldek” Pfefferberg, one of Schindler's survivors. Poldek gave Keneally copies of documents he had once assembled for a Schindler film that was never made. Nan Talese, then at Simon & Schuster, offered a $60,000 advance for a book, and Keneally and Poldek left on an international research expedition. That journey and the survivors they met form the compelling centerpiece of this moving memoir. With publication, the question arose as to whether Schindler's List was a novel or history, but Keneally had planned from the start to write “what Truman Capote or his publisher had called faction.” The closing chapters cover the making of Steven Spielberg's 1993 film adaptation, which won seven Academy Awards. Photos. (Oct. 14)

This is a suspenseful account of how Metek Pemper, the Jewish secretary to Amon Göth, the commandant of Plaszow concentration camp, saved not just his own life but that of his family and other inmates, finally giving the damning testimony that helped convict Göth of war crimes. Steven Spielberg drew from the stories of Pemper and his friend Izak Stern for his movie Schindler's List (based on Thomas Keneally's book Schindler's List) but omitted Pemper's character from the film. After being made secretary to the commandant, Pemper lived in constant fear, but collected information and ensured that the camp would continue to operate. Some Jews were kept alive by Pemper providing fabricated figures to persuade high command that the camp was vital to the war effort. A bookish young man with a gift for languages and guile, Pemper was “the only witness who could give a complete and accurate overview” of Schindler's operation. Pemper's book is careful and sad, telling of both triumph and the inability to get over the grief. Illus. (Oct.)