Nonfiction Reviews

Jam-packed with critical insights and historical context, this discussion of C.S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia from Miller’s double perspectives—as the wide-eyed child who first read the books and an agnostic adult who revisits them—is intellectually inspiring but not always cohesive. Finding her distrust of Christianity undermined by her love of Lewis’s indisputably Christian-themed world, Salon.com cofounder and staff writer Miller seeks to “recapture [Narnia’s] old enchantment.” She replaces lost innocence with understanding, visiting Lewis’s home in England, reading his letters and books (which she quotes extensively) and interviewing readers and writers. Lengthy musings on Freudian analysis of sadomasochism, J.R.R. Tolkien’s Anglo-Saxon nationalism and taxonomies of genre share space with incisive and unapologetic criticism of Lewis’s treatment of race, gender and class. The heart of the book is in the first-person passages where Miller recalls longing to both be and befriend Lucy Pevensie and extols Narnia’s “shining wonders.” Her reluctant reconciliation with Lewis’s and Narnia’s imperfections never quite manages to be convincing, but anyone who has endured exile from Narnia will recognize and appreciate many aspects of her journey. (Dec. 3)

Richard Greene (an associate professor at the University of Toronto and no relation of the novelist’s) provides an incisive introduction, narrative and annotations to his selection of Graham Greene’s letters from 1921 to 1991, which appear together for the first time. Perennially shortlisted for the Nobel Prize in Literature but never a recipient, Greene is presented in these letters through the five main preoccupations of his life: Roman Catholicism, politics, love, travel and, certainly not least, the processes of writing and publishing. As a publisher at Eyre & Spottiswoode, and as an author in disputes with Heinemann’s and Viking (“Would rather change publisher than title”), Greene gained an unusually rounded view of the business side of his profession. In love and through several intense and long-lasting affairs, Greene remains something of a tortured exhibitionist. His writing career led to correspondence with a range of authors and personalities, including Evelyn Waugh, Muriel Spark, Kurt Vonnegut, Ralph Richardson, Michael Korda, Anthony Burgess, the future Pope Paul VI and radical Swiss theologian Hans Küng. Points of travel famously include such hot spots as Vietnam, Sierra Leone, Haiti, Cuba and Israel. In all, this well-thought-out collection newly reveals a remarkable activist-writer. 8 pages of illus. (Dec.)

With a pastiche of personal experience, media analysis and legal theory, law professor Tehranian makes a case for “government recognition of Middle Eastern descent as a distinct racial category.” He argues that Middle Eastern whiteness is a “bizarre racial fiction,” for citizens of Middle Eastern descent “do not enjoy the benefits of white privilege,” but “are denied the fruits of remedial action.” Tehranian traces the acquisition of whiteness by successive waves of immigrants (Irish, Italian, Greek, Slavs, Armenians) through litigation where “assimilatory behavior” or “white performance” provides entry. But Middle Easterners hit a bump in the road, amplified in post-9/11 America: “selective racialization”—the famous or successful are perceived as white, while the infamous “are racialized as Middle Eastern.” Tehranian addresses the impact of the “war on terror” on the lives and liberties of Middle Eastern Americans as their “public image transitioned from (possibly white) assimilable ethnics to the quintessential Other.” His proposals for reform range from the ameliorative (“reform media portrayals”) to the legislative (outlaw racial profiling). Tehranian’s book covers fresh legal and social territory; while occasionally repetitious, it is consistently informative and casts off the cloak of invisibility. (Dec.)

Kettl’s cogent and unbiased analysis of the failure of government institutions posits that current challenges, whether in health care or disaster response, have outgrown the capacity of monolithic government agencies, even while the size of government continues to swell. Kettl (The Transformation of Governance) observes that “a bigger government with more shared responsibility has created a system in which no one is fully accountable for anything government does.” He presents a balanced and unpartisan analysis of the Hurricane Katrina debacle, examining human error and generations of poor decision making as well as the intricacies of federalism and the organizational complexity of government institutions. According to the author, there exists a disconnect between how policy is executed, who is responsible and how institutions should share responsibility. Adapting institutions to current problems (and not the other way around) is a necessary change in mindset, Kettle argues, and crucial to greater government accountability, the overarching challenge for future leaders. (Dec.)

Former New York Times economics columnist Madrick takes aim at what he perceives as a dominant American antigovernment ideology with this overly ambitious text. The author’s decidedly left-of-center thesis rests on the argument that “active and sizable government” is “essential to growth and prosperity.” To make his case, Madrick begins with a too brief history of the relationship between the American government and the economy, from Hamilton and Jefferson’s attitude toward laissez-faire economics through Jacob Riis’s famous documentation of urban squalor near the turn of the 20th century to the Great Society initiatives of the 1960s. The author details the country’s economic problems since the 1970s, despite the relative prosperity of the 1990s. In elaborating these points, Madrick attacks both the right and the left, and he returns consistently to the persistent influence of Milton Friedman on the antigovernment bias in American politics. This well-researched but somewhat formless book concludes with an extensive progressive agenda for redressing the limited influence of American government, covering a wide range of issues, from same-sex marriage to universal pre-k education. (Nov.)

British aid worker Foley paints a bleak portrait of humanitarian intervention in this book that exorcises his failed missions during a career with such organizations as Amnesty International and the UNHCR. He revisits his time in Kosovo, Afghanistan and Indonesia, enumerating the knotty ethical dilemmas inherent in offering humanitarian aid (i.e., the blurring boundary between “development and humanitarian action” or the challenges of maintaining political neutrality while providing aid). Foley doesn’t dissect these dilemmas with enough clarity for a nonexpert reader to understand the pros and cons of modern interventionism. Moreover, Foley is too exasperated by a morass of “too little, too late” missions over the past 15 years to objectively analyze interventionism’s touchy relationship to international law. He refrains from offering solutions and is content to point out thorny problems ranging from the use of force and usurpation of national sovereignty to cultural insensitivity. His bitterness suffuses the book, which ends on a hollow prescription: “the need to develop a rather different discourse on human rights interventionism, one which is more modest in recognizing its limitations, but more ambitious in recognizing what needs to be done.” (Nov.)

Devji (Landscapes of the Jihad) examines the vitality of militant movements, arguing that in a global society, organizations like al-Qaeda have gathered meaning and strength in an “institutional vacuum.” The author classifies pacifism and environmentalism as “intellectual peers” of militant Islam: they transcend traditional nation states and ideologies by identifying with “planetary ideals” like human rights and humanitarianism just as militant Islam does this by “identifying Muslims with the passive victims who embody humanity.” Once Muslim suffering has been established, militants employ the “logic of equivalence” to justify acts of terrorism. Since Islamic militancy is a global phenomenon, Devji rejects the traditional scholarship that roots it in regional issues like the Palestinian cause and poverty and oppression. Most controversially, he equates militant Islam with “the plethora of non-governmental agencies dedicated to humanitarian work.” He also concludes, more conventionally, that the U.S. response to militant Islam—the “global war on terror”—has transformed war “into a species of policing.” Despite the breadth of his research and his iconoclastic conclusions, Devji’s scholarly prose will likely limit his audience to fellow scholars and students. (Nov.)

The centerpiece of this intellectual history is a vicious late–17th-century debate between three unlikely combatants: Leibniz, an amateur metaphysicist and German secret agent; Malebranche, a gentle French priest and theologian; and Arnauld, an ill-tempered and opinionated monk. The differences in their positions were slight but important: at stake was the very concept of God with potential implications for the territorial wars between various Catholic Church sects. Although the three men were concentrating on questions that had long been the subject of philosophical inquiry, new scientific discoveries were beginning to challenge the power invested in church and monarchy in what became a watershed moment. Nadler (Rembrandt’s Jews) demonstrates why the contentious discussions between the three intellectuals remain relevant: “To the extent that one believes that there is a universal rationality and objectivity to moral and other value judgments, and that the foundations of ethics have nothing to do with what God may or may not want, one has followed in certain seventeenth-century footsteps.” Nadler’s superb study makes for a larger space for Leibniz, Malebranche and Arnauld alongside such giants of the period as Descartes and Spinoza. (Nov.)

With a distinct British sensibility and syntax, life coach Harrold (Coach Yourself to Success) describes seven rules for achieving and maintaining success, illustrated by in-depth interviews with entrepreneurs and business people. Her subjects are united in focus, drive and unrelenting appetite for hard work; Harrold observes, “They all had a grand idea, a big scheme that inspired them. It was never about the money. It was about service, improving things and helping others.” While her seven categories may seem generic—be passionate, practice self-belief, do more, take more risks, inspire others, persevere, be generous—her paradigm of success is useful and inspiring. Vision, generosity and what Harrold calls “optimistic resilience” are crucial components of the successful person’s psyche. An entertaining roundup of “famous failures”—including J.K. Rowling (eight literary agents rejected the first Harry Potter book), Walt Disney (fired from a newspaper because he “lacked imagination”), Isaac Newton and Winston Churchill (both academic failures)—takes some of the sting out of perceived failure and is genuinely emboldening, while periodic short exercises throughout the book sharpen the reader’s sense of purpose and clarify life goals. (Nov.)

Berg, executive director of the New York City Coalition Against Hunger, spotlights domestic poverty and hunger in this book that has sharp words for politicians, charities and religious denominations. The author reveals how consistently the federal government has ignored the fact that 35.5 million Americans, including 12.6 million children, don’t have enough to eat. Although local governments cared for hungry and poverty-stricken citizens in the pre-Depression years, contemporary politicos in Washington have alternately denied that hunger is a problem, then admitted its existence, then tried to eradicate it with programs that rarely last. Whether he is reasoning why the word hunger is better and more to-the-point than the government’s term food insecure, pillorying hunger surveys that don’t count the homeless or demonstrating how even well-meaning social services contribute to the problem, Berg is a passionate and articulate advocate. This book provides a range of practical solutions, but gets bogged down by an overwhelming amount of hard data and statistics, which may deter some readers from wanting to take a good-sized bite of it. (Nov.)

In these quietly celebratory photographs, Mobley captures the “experience of hospitality and generosity” he encountered in photographing 300 farmers in 35 states, sessions which he says “revived my own sense of spirit and optimism.” His subjects are farmers who work 50 acres of organic vegetables and those who keep 3,000 acres of cherry orchards; many are barely getting by and no one says they are getting rich, although he meets men doing very well with everything from avocados to alligators. Fried transcribes their stories into engaging narratives—the highlight of the book—that present a cross-section of America that is politically active, proud of its traditions but open to experimentation, and often pleased to see college-educated offspring return to the family business. Mobley falls back too often on late-afternoon, magic hour lighting that casts a glow on his images, and he does not avoid clichés: he prefers resolute, unsmiling portraits, juxtaposes weathered elders with the fresh-faced young, and a surprising number of his subjects clutch small animals to their breasts. 150 color and b&w illus. (Nov.)

Montgomery (The Things Between Us), a memoirist and executive editor of Tin House magazine, delivers personal essays from writers—including Barry Hannah, Victoria Redel and Denis Johnson (whose essay is written from the point of view of his curiously military-minded bullmastiff, The Colonel)—that capture “the soul essence of dogs” in a way that will touch the hearts of canine owners everywhere. From novelist Tom Grimes’s description of his dog Charlie’s “zigzagging, semi-Homeric” outings to Lydia Millet’s paean to her pug Bug, “a confounding and holy monster,” each author presents a memorable dog each possessing much devotion and baffling eccentricity. Other than Millet and Yannick Murphy (“The Sea of Trees”)—who presents an ode to Tom, his huge, slobbering and totally good-natured Newfoundland—almost all of the essayists prominently feature descriptions of their dogs’ deaths, each of which is affecting but read together can be a profoundly sad experience for those with dogs. This fine collection works best if readers give themselves adequate time for reflection—and sometimes a good cry—between each essay. (Nov.)

The strength of this meticulous chronicle of the 19th-century Jesuit is the author’s focus on the inner life of a poet who was critically acclaimed after his death and almost unknown in his lifetime. The resulting lack of context is also the volume’s most persistent and occasionally tiresome weakness. A Hopkins scholar and poet who has written biographies of poets William Carlos Williams and Robert Lowell, Mariani has woven together Hopkins’s correspondence, sermons, journal entries and other materials to form a frequently fascinating account of the poet’s life from his decision to leave the Church of England at age 22 to his death 22 years later. The biographer also analyzes the poet’s innovative, idiosyncratic poems and their philosophical, theological and literary roots. The book would have benefited greatly by occasional views of the political, spiritual and artistic environment that influenced Hopkins and his literary contemporaries. Nonetheless, there is much to learn from this portrayal of an opinionated, often depressed yet likable priest-poet who toiled in near obscurity, constantly trying to subordinate his poetic gifts to his calling to serve God. (Nov. 3)

The cycle of photosynthesis is the cycle of life, says science journalist Morton (Mapping Mars). Green leaves trap sunlight and use it to absorb carbon dioxide from the air and emit life-giving oxygen in its place. Indeed, plants likely created Earth’s life-friendly oxygen- and nitrogen-rich biosphere. In the first part, Morton, chief news and features editor of the leading science journal, Nature, traces scientists’ quest to understand how photosynthesis works at the molecular level. In part two, Morton addresses evidence of how plants may have kick-started the complex life cycle on Earth. The book’s final part considers photosynthesis in relation to global warming, for, he says, the Earth’s plant-based balance of carbon dioxide and oxygen is broken: in burning vast amounts of fossil fuels, we are emitting more carbon dioxide than the plants can absorb. But Morton also explores the possibility that our understanding of photosynthesis might be harnessed to regain that balance. Readers should persevere through (or skim) the more technical discussions in the first part, for what follows is a vast, elegant synthesis of biology, physics and environmental science that can inform our discussions of urgent issues. (Nov. 4)

Concisely and thoughtfully, British historian Poole reveals the behind-the-scenes story of the first photographs taken of Earth from space, and how those amazing images forever changed our view of the planet, the universe and humanity. The tightly scheduled 1968 Apollo 8 mission was focused on the first lunar orbit, but “Earthrise”—the image of a cloudy blue Earth rising over a starkly monochromatic lunar surface—stunned everyone. Astronaut Frank Borman called it “the most beautiful, heart-catching sight of my life.” NASA, at the forefront of the “astrofuturist” movement that saw humanity’s future out among the stars, was unprepared for the paradoxical reaction “Earthrise” provoked. Rather than turning people’s eyes on a future in space, it refocused them on Earth. For many astronauts, says Poole, the sight “hit with the force of a religious experience,” which echoed throughout the world. Fifteen months later came the first Earth Day and the start of an “eco-renaissance” devoted to preserving and protecting “Spaceship Earth.” Drawing on historical reports and interviews, Poole smartly delineates the philosophical, spiritual and environmental impact of the photo that reminded humankind of the beauty and fragility of Earth. Photos. (Nov.)

Generations of boys, inspired by characters from Buck Rogers to Boba Fett, have dreamed of flying with jetpacks strapped to their backs. Freelance writer Montandon, editor of Innocent When You Dream: The Tom Waits Reader, documents his search for the ultimate jetpack; along the way he encounters an offbeat bunch of middle-aged men with the same obsession. Montandon explains, for readers who don’t attend the venues where jetpack jockeys rake in thousands of dollars from viewers who want to see a few seconds of flight, that the sticking point with jetpack technology is that you can’t pack enough concentrated hydrogen peroxide on your back to fly for very long. Most jetpacks today are built from the original 1950s plans for the first working model, although many men have spent countless hours in the garage trying to improve on it. Along the way, there has been one unsolved murder and a gruesome torture and extortion case associated with a fabled lost jetpack that has taken on Holy Grail status. This snappily written, often funny book should attract dreamers of both sexes and all ages. Photos. (Nov.)

Newsweek editor and bestselling author Meacham (Franklin and Winston) offers a lively take on the seventh president’s White House years. We get the Indian fighter and hero of New Orleans facing down South Carolina radicals’ efforts to nullify federal laws they found unacceptable, speaking the words of democracy even if his banking and other policies strengthened local oligarchies, and doing nothing to protect southern Indians from their land-hungry white neighbors. For the first time, with Jackson, demagoguery became presidential, and his Democratic Party deepened its identification with Southern slavery. Relying on the huge mound of previous Jackson studies, Meacham can add little to this well-known story, save for the few tidbits he’s unearthed in private collections rarely consulted before. What he does bring is a writer’s flair and the ability to relate his story without the incrustations of ideology and position taking that often disfigure more scholarly studies of Jackson. Nevertheless, a gifted writer like Meacham might better turn his attention to tales less often told and subjects a bit tougher to enliven. 32 pages of b&w photos. (Nov. 11)

No Hollywood fantasy is more exciting than this true story of a Russian princess in exile who becomes a bohemian, free lover and Communist. WWII was a turning point for the woman who had traveled Europe, married and divorced and borne three children (possibly with different fathers). In 1940, while in France, Sofka was detained in a German camp, developed Resistance contacts and aided Jewish inmates. Soon after the war, in England, she joined the Communist Party, eventually led tours of the Soviet Union, but ended her itinerant life in England. Written by Sofka’s granddaughter and based on her published memoir, an unpublished diary kept during the war and voluminous new research, the power of this biography is in its historical breadth as well as Zinovieff’s ability to conjure the specificity of time and place through Sofka’s experiences of the 20th century’s major political and culture events. At times a focus on Zinovieff’s biographical detective work slightly slows the pace, but overall, this is a notable story told with élan and an eye for historical and social detail. Photos, map. (Nov.)

In his typically supple and elegant prose, Nicolson—author of the acclaimed God’s Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible—traces the Pembroke family’s “arc of ambition, success, failure, and collapse” between the 1520s and the 1640s, when the fourth earl of Pembroke joined the Puritan rebellion. Along the way, Nicolson highlights the ambiguous nature of this most powerful of dynasties—“one of the richest and most glamorous” of their time. Outwardly the servile courtiers of the king in London, in fact they presented a potent provincial counterweight to the monarchy’s centralizing preferences with their vast Anglo-Welsh palatinate and a legion of loyal tenants. While fiercely protective of their rights, the Pembrokes were not “liberal” by today’s standards; if anything, it was the royal administration that represented the future modern state while the Pembrokes and their feudal values harked back to the Middle Ages. As Nicolson wistfully concedes, “this story is about the end of an old world, not the making of a new one.” For fans of the Tudor and Stuart era, this will be a welcome treat. 16 pages of color photos. (Nov. 4)

Goodman offers a highly atmospheric account of a hoax that he says reflects the birth of tabloid journalism and New York City’s emergence as a city with worldwide influence. In August 1835, New York Sun editor Richard Adams Locke wrote and published a hoax about a newfangled telescope that revealed fantastic images of the moon, including poppy fields, waterfalls and blue skies. Animals from unicorns to horned bears inhabited the moon, but most astonishing were the four-foot-tall “man-bats” who talked, built temples and fornicated in public. The sensational moon hoax was reprinted across America and Europe. Edgar Allan Poe grumbled that the tale had been cribbed from one of his short stories; Sun owner Benjamin Day saw his paper become the most widely read in the world; and a pre-eminent British astronomer complained that his good name had been linked to those “incoherent ravings.” Goodman (Jewish Food) offers a richly detailed and engrossing glimpse of the birth of tabloid journalism in an antebellum New York divided by class, ethnicity and such polarizing issues as slavery, religion and intellectual freedom. B&w illus. (Nov.)

Former Knopf and New Yorker editor-in-chief Gottlieb offers a wonderfully idiosyncratic collection of dance writings in one massive yet cohesive tome organized into chapters on major choreographers (from Bournonville to Paul Taylor), dancers, teachers and miscellaneous subjects such as “Present at the Creation” (e.g., ballerina Alexandra Danilova on Balanchine’s Apollo). There’s brilliant and incisive criticism, and artists in their own voices, such as winsome and witty ballerina Allegra Kent on her first performance with the New York City Ballet. There are critical looks at dancers, such as Harris Green’s pointed take on Gelsey Kirkland as “The Judy Garland of Ballet.” Then there are the ephemera: Fred Astaire opining on Ginger Rogers’s dresses, Walt Disney’s animated dances and recipes from Tanaquil LeClercq’s The Ballet Cook Book. Although Gottlieb admits that his collection is “unbalanced and uneven,” the paucity of writing on black dancers and choreographers—three pages on Alvin Ailey’s “crude but powerful style” and an obituary of hoofer Honi Coles—is egregious. Nonetheless, it’s an important collection and a treasure chest for dance aficionados. (Nov. 4)

Great Lakes historian Schumacher (Mighty Fitz: The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald) profiles another nautical tragedy. The Carl D. Bradley, a 638-foot limestone carrier, sank to Lake Michigan’s cold bottom 50 years ago this November. Known as the “Queen of the Stone-Carrying Fleet,” it was the most expensive wreck in the history of the Great Lakes, totaling $8 million. The human cost was far greater, as many of the 33 deceased lived in one city, the ship’s port of Rogers City, Mich. Schumacher is a rigorous reporter and researcher, covering the ship’s shaky state, the harrowing wreck and risky rescue with assurance and clarity. There are a few missteps, a chapter on the wreck of the Cedarville in 1965 feeling like padding. By profiling the Carl D.’s crew and detailing their lives in Rogers City, Schumacher gives a human face to the tragedy, infusing the book with dramatic substance to match the riveting narrative. (Nov.)

“Sally’s” is what the homeless call the Salvation Army’s soup kitchen. LeMieux is a first-time author whose memoir chronicles his descent as a conservative publisher who loses his company, his home, his wife and kids, and all sense of hope, until he is called back from a potential suicide by the insistent barking of his beloved dog, Willow. Together, they embark on what is truly the “inspirational journey” of this book’s title, living in an old van and moving from town to town. Using a beatup typewriter, LeMieux captures not only what day-to-day life is like for those whose lives have been broken by economic hardship (“from the millions of teenagers on the street to the millions of old heroes stored away in nursing homes across the country”), but also the rich inner life and the wellsprings of hope that he finds in the many people he skillfully and sensitively describes—“people are as real as you can find anywhere.” And his own experiences with constant depression, the mental health system that exists for the homeless, and his discovery of life and a sense of hope in his new home of Bremerton, Wash., combine into a moving tale that cuts through the stereotypes of homeless living. (Nov.)

Baszile grew up in an affluent Southern California suburb (she was a first-grader in 1975), a postsegregation child in a not quite integrated world and “the only black girl in my class, my grade, and my school besides my sister.” In this craftily structured memoir, Baszile carries the reader at a leisurely, but in no way slack, pace through her girlhood and adolescence, maintaining both her young vulnerability and her sophisticated adult perspective. In trips to her parents’ childhood homes—big city Detroit for her mother, deep country Louisiana for her father—she sees their (and her own) African-American pasts. A cruise, on which her parents challenge the two girls “to introduce yourselves to every black kid on this boat” before dinner, offers fresh dimensions of her African-American present. Taken together, they contribute to the path that led her to Yale’s history department (its first black female professor). In elegant prose, Baszile shares enlightening observations throughout: “Dad never complained about being a black man... but he couldn’t disguise its particular perils.” Proud and comfortable in her skin, as well as clearheaded about its hazards, Baszile has written a classic portrait of that girl next door. (Nov.)

In the wake of phenomenally successful tweeny-bopper pop stars like Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers—as well as the recent reunion of boy-band New Kids on the Block—the time is right for a good look at the ever-present sleaze of the music industry, and journalist Gray provides it in great, greasy bucketfuls. His focus is Lou Pearlman, the manager of the Backstreet Boys and INSYNC who, Gray explains, used their earnings to finance his exorbitant lifestyle including a multimillion-dollar mansion, a fleet of private planes and expensive cars, and, inevitably, “a shady world of endless investments.” Gray’s look at the bands’ music is serviceable. However, Gray has a keen eye for business, and he writes fluently in detailing how Pearlman with “an assembly of hucksters as his new business partners,” massively scammed not only his boy bands (he collected “50 percent of all recording royalties, 100 percent of all advances”) but hopeful model wannabes as well as gullible investors, including Pearlman’s first cousin Art Garfunkel and government officials of Orlando, Fla. (Nov.)

According to Leary, his first book is not for the faint of heart, by which he means Americans: “I am here to debunk and declassify and otherwise hold up a brutally honest mirror to our fat, ugly, lazy American selves.” Now, a good many comedians make a career out of daring to speak the ugly, gasping truths that few others would. Leary brings a particularly acid-tinged tone to his rantings about annoying children, why cats are satanic spawn, what an ugly racket the Catholic Church is and (more surprisingly) why he loves Oprah. The book will most likely appeal to fans of Leary, and while the material might have been better delivered as a live performance (some of these hate-laced monologues are just begging to be read aloud), Leary himself wildly entertains. (Nov.)

In one of the more creative yet accessible Italian cookbooks to come along, Carmellini (formerly chef of A Voce in New York City) presents spectacular recipes while opening a window onto his life with food, from his Italian-American boyhood and cooking school to revelations while traveling in Italy and being a top New York chef. An extensive personal introduction as well as ample side notes and recipe introductions offer extra insight into his approach to food. The recipes, which come from all over Italy and mix regional Italian and American influences, are arranged classically, from antipasti to dolci. Many seem typical Italian fare, yet Carmellini gives them an idiosyncratic touch that heightens flavors and makes them work for the modern cook, whether that means an intriguing beet and grapefruit salad or meatballs with cherries. Some recipes are simple but time-consuming, as he candidly admits, yet he walks through the steps so patiently that a determined cook at almost any skill level will manage. Carmellini shows why he is considered one of the country’s best young chefs, and a natural teacher. (Oct.)

McClelland, the owner-chef at the well-regarded Boston restaurant L’Espalier, where he offers special menus with wine pairings each Monday night, aims to help people understand how to match a wine’s qualities to a dish’s flavors. In this book, he teams up with freelance food writer Matheson to offer an enthusiastic approach to the basic principles of wine pairing, emphasizing that people should drink what they enjoy. The recipes are organized as components of elegant four-course menus, which in turn are arranged seasonally, showcasing how well-chosen wines bring out the changing flavors of fresh vegetables, meats and fish. Each menu begins with wine notes; specific bottles are recommended, but the authors also give the rationale behind their choices, so that people can explore different vineyards. In keeping with L’Espalier’s focus, many of the dishes are French accented, from a roasted fruit–topped pain perdu to a poussin pot-au-feu, but there are Spanish and Italian menus as well. Some of the recipes are fairly complicated, but they are broken into less intimidating parts so that any reasonably confident home cook should have no problem tackling the menus. (Oct.)

An enormous undertaking, this monumental tome, complete with more than 1,000 photographs, chronicles one day at revolutionary eatery elBulli in northern Spain, arguably one of today’s most influential restaurants. Adrià, the culinary genius behind this success, along with restaurant manager Soler and brother and fellow chef Albert give the reader a firsthand look at day-to-day activities and the innovation for which elBulli is known. Lavish photographs are the main attraction in this work; text is sparse and offers only glimpses into activities. While there is an examination of the team’s creative methods, most topics are only touched upon briefly, such as creative sessions, testing and utilizing a mental palate. Given the highly technical nature of the dishes served at elBulli, recipes (Pine Nut Marshmallows; Steamed Brioche with Rose-scented Mozzarella) are rare. A glance behind the scenes at a pivotal time and place in culinary evolution, this book will delight serious foodies, and its stunning package guarantees it will grace many a coffee table. (Oct.)

Spain boasts Ferran Adrià’s restaurant, elBulli, to push modern cooking’s boundaries, but the Chicago restaurant Alinea has its own molecular gastronomy wunderkind in Grant Achatz as he takes food in previously unimagined directions. This cookbook presents the exact recipes, grouped by season, from the restaurant kitchen, such as Yolk Drops with Asparagus, Lemon and Black Pepper or Bison with Beets, Blueberries and Burning Cinnamon, along with gorgeous closeup photographs of these jaw-droppingly fanciful creations. The book opens with essays by food world elder statesmen, including Michael Ruhlman and Jeffrey Steingarten, who lavish praise on Achatz’s approach, and Michael Nagrant, who explores the Alinea philosophy through a dish called “Black Truffle Explosion.” Achatz himself eloquently explains 10 techniques he uses at the restaurant to achieve his culinary goals, from “bouncing flavors” to custom service ware and aroma manipulation. Though readers are encouraged to make the recipes, or at least interpret them so as to “craft an experience similar to dining at the restaurant,” where every minute involves intensive engagement with the food, most people will value the book more as a beautifully produced insight into Achatz’s creativity and perhaps a spur to their own, even when they are not making spheres of beet juice or mozzarella balloons. Purchase includes access to a companion Web site with video demonstrations, interviews and an forum with Achatz and his team. (Oct.)

The sixth cookbook from the Barefoot Contessa juggernaut contains exactly the kind of appealing, simple-yet-just-gourmet-enough recipes Garten devotees adore. There’s nothing very surprising (Garten tries to claim an ingredient-focused premise), but her formula works. She offers such dishes as Lobster Corn Chowder, Creamy Cucumber Salad, Tuscan Lemon Chicken, Tagliarelle with Truffle Butter (which has just five ingredients, plus salt and pepper), and Brownie Pudding. Garten suggests tips on such things as setting the table and “10 things not to serve at a dinner party.” Her tone can be charmingly pretentious, but she comes down to earth with admissions like “I have to admit that pastry still makes me anxious. When I discovered puff pastry, it was such a relief.” Recipes are short and simple, and she often squeezes in insightful hints for making things work perfectly. (Oct.)

In a recipe book that is part cultural critique and part culinary history, Mendelson (Stand Facing the Stove) reaps nearly 400 fascinating pages from that most elemental of ingredients. Yet the story of dairy is perhaps not quite so surprising as the title suggests—it’s more or less the story of all industrialized food production through the last century, in which the flavor and quality of natural foods have been subjugated to dietary concerns, food safety and the sheer volume needed for mass consumption. As a result, Mendelson argues, the product most Americans call milk bears very little resemblance to what initially spurts from the cow’s udder. Mendelson exhaustively traces milk production and consumption back to 6000 B.C. and through the Middle East, India and Europe, where milch animals were first herded and bred. The final two-thirds of the book are divided into chapters devoted to fresh milk and cream; yogurt; cultured milk and cream; butter, true buttermilk and fresh cheese, each with traditional recipes from around the world. Aspiring cheese makers will find some basic science, and the eclectic recipes (such as French Vichyssoise, Turkish Ayran and Eastern European Kugel) are reliable and detailed. Mendelson is optimistic that a brighter future for dairying lies in the rise of small farm operations—a future in which more consumers can share her obvious passion for the product. (Oct.)

In this follow-up to her first book, At Home Café, DeFrance encourages home chefs to make cooking “not a chore, but an opportunity to spend time with friends and family” and provides a slate of menus suitable for a variety of occasions. Culinary themes include Deep South Brunch, Teen Taco Bar, and Shrimp under the Oak Trees. DeFrance is a seasoned cooking teacher—the Camp Blackberry cooking program in Knoxville, Tenn., and Viking Cooking Schools nationwide are in her regular rotation. In various “Helping Hands” sidebars, she makes suggestions for both seasoned cooks (“Peeling shrimp... requires some skill”) and kids (“Pulling yellow or damaged leaves off Brussels sprouts is a task for little hands”). Recipes range from familiar favorites like Warm Crab Dip and Lemon Squares to more creative fare, such as Cognac-Scented Chicken Liver Pâté. Writing with her sister Carol Puckett, DeFrance has a friendly, warm voice, offering personal anecdotes and enthusiastic commentary about the recipes. Similarly, the last several pages of the book offer tips for entertaining, inspired by her own mother’s flair for presentation. (Oct.)

Swinburne, British philosophy professor and the author of books on religious belief, the philosophy of mind and epistemology, explains the point of this book: to show that God conforms to specifically Christian definitions of God and that Christian doctrines and theology are true. By comparison with the author’s earlier Is There a God? this book focuses particularly on the foundational Christian doctrine that Jesus was (and is) God. Swinburne uses the Nicene Creed as a road map, but the defining paradigm is God’s love, particularly how God’s love for us characterizes God and necessitates Jesus. Despite the sophistication of his argument, Swinburne depends on a sympathetic audience predisposed to his conclusions. For example, not everyone will agree that we exist in a state of original sinfulness from which we can only be reconciled to God by “offering a perfect human life which might well... end in a death by execution.” Although regular use of boldface words and phrases help direct readers through Swinburne’s reasoning, many will find the academic language of philosophy daunting. (Nov.)

With this book on angels, the press launches its Anchor Yale Bible Reference Library. No matter what branch of Christianity you profess, it is likely that your belief system teaches that angels are at work in our lives. This thoughtful, though sometimes ponderous, study by Garrett, professor of New Testament at Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary, brings forward the important place angels hold in the Judeo-Christian tradition. Angels, both good and evil, are seen as a major driving force in the divine-human encounter. They appear as helpers in time of need, or as tempters when we’re prone to do evil. They affect our present and help determine our future. And while some may dismiss the whole issue as just so much imaginative nonsense, Garrett understands the ultimate goal of angelic intervention in our lives: “Jesus is no ordinary angel, but rather, the peerless example of God’s stooping down to be present with us in our brokenness.” This thrilling thought can be a comfort and a joy to all people of faith. (Nov.)

The subtitle alone will dissuade some from picking up this book, but that would be a mistake. Kraus, executive editor for Bibles at Oxford University Press, approaches his subject with the delicacy required when introducing ideas that will be considered at best heterodox and, at worst, heretical. News of schisms within the mainline churches fills the headlines. Many of these bitter disagreements boil down to how one reads and understands scripture. Kraus makes a compelling case for a context- and culture-sensitive reading of the sacred book. When doing so, he insists, one can transcend the literal and appreciate the nuance in the telling of biblical stories. He further claims that a strictly literal reading of the scriptures has contributed to morally excluding segments of our population—gays and lesbians in particular. And while he fails to fully address the inherent dangers of substituting subjective understanding for objective truth, he recognizes that, for each reader, the text comes alive in different ways. Many readers will disagree with Kraus’s conclusions, but most will be challenged to re-examine their traditional views. (Nov.)

In another screed on what’s wrong with American Christianity, theology professor Horton, of Westminster Seminary California, bemoans the slide of the American Christian church into what he, and others, call a moralistic, therapeutic deism. Drawing on studies, surveys and anecdotal evidence, Horton reaches the oft-repeated conclusion that American Christianity is self-centered rather than Christ-centered, Jesus is a life coach rather than a redeemer, and salvation is focused on therapeutic well-being. He rants against the purveyors of this watered-down Christianity—Robert Schuller, T.D. Jakes, Benny Hinn, Joyce Meyer—but saves his most savage attack for megachurch preacher Joel Osteen, whom Horton depicts as a snake-oil salesman teaching that God is a personal shopper ready to deliver happiness and prosperity if only individuals let God know their needs. Horton reveals his lack of theological depth when he argues that ancient Gnostics saw God as no different from humans. Yet Gnosticism’s entire point is this difference. Horton regrettably offers no recommendation for the reformation of American Christianity beyond a simplistic call to let the church be defined by the Gospel rather than the laws of the market. (Nov.)

With the recent controversy over the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, former pastor of Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama, much attention has been recently paid to the topic of the black church in America. Yet historian Savage shows in her book that “there is no such thing as the 'black church.’ ” Countering the image of a monolithic institution, Savage instead portrays the theological, economic and social diversity within black churches. Through biographical vignettes, Savage spans the 20th-century black religious experience, focusing on the ever-present question African-Americans asked about the role their churches should play in the politics for racial justice. Savage’s greatest contribution is her restoration of black women to a central place in black religious experience. Though women formed the vast majority of those in the pews, most historians have focused on the male ministers who led the congregations. Savage argues for the importance of Mary McLeod Bethune, Nannie Helen Burroughs, and Fannie Lou Hamer, among others. A concluding chapter on Barack Obama and Wright smartly observes how Wright himself downplayed black religious diversity to make his defense of the black church. (Nov.)

Infertility treatments, twins, more infertility treatments, followed by six beating hearts on an ultrasound screen. That sets up the Gosselins’ memoir of the exhausting and joyous events surrounding the births of their now famous sextuplets. Those familiar with the TLC program Jon & Kate Plus 8 know how their household runs; now their story comes alive for readers as well. Kate admits, “I was a bit of a control freak,” yet also quickly draws on and receives the “peace of God... like a security blanket” through her months in the hospital, Jon’s job loss and the impending arrivals. Details such as how they chose names; the sextuplets’ birth day of May 10, 2004; and the babies’ weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit are fascinating, as are stories of running a household that was perpetually full of volunteers, looked like “baby base camp” and required carefully sequenced nightly bath time. The Gosselins’ life is a whirlwind, with their book reflecting the fast-paced, faith-filled approach they take to raising their twins and their miracle sextuplets. (Nov.)

In this articulate and cogent treatise, Schulweis, longtime congregational rabbi and founding chairman of the Jewish Foundation for the Righteous, argues that acts of disobedience can be appropriate and moral when law violates conscience. Referencing the Midrash, Bible and Talmud, he argues that both the popular understanding of God as a being who cannot be contradicted and of Judaism as a religion that requires uncompromising obedience to authority is mistaken. Throughout Jewish history, he explains, rabbis have created ingenious legal maneuvers to eliminate laws they found unconscionable, such as making capital punishment so difficult to implement that it became obsolete. Furthermore, God’s engagement with humanity, most famously his interaction with Abraham before he destroys Sodom, indicates a willingness for confrontations promoting morality and righteousness. Schulweis’s broad knowledge is evident as he intersperses biblical anecdotes with philosophical theories, as is his ability to make his thesis relevant by including material on the Holocaust and references to Abu Ghraib. Whether religious or not, readers concerned with the culture of mindless complicity will find this volume revealing and enlightening. (Nov.)

A child of Holocaust survivors and former psychiatric patient, Spitz bravely shares his own story, in bits and pieces, in an effort to offer hope and consolation not only to those fighting depression but to their friends and families. Through an in-depth series of biblical examples, Talmudic tales and stories from people in his congregation, Spitz offers a long history of despair through the ages, meant to remind us that we are not alone, suffering is not new and healing is possible. Tools for actively seeking solace round out each chapter, covering everything from perspective and transformation to forgiveness and gratitude. Despite the brave baring of his story, Spitz remains at a distance, almost hidden amid long Torah portions. Though full of useful information, particularly regarding help for those affected by suicide, the narrative disappoints, lacking warmth and accessibility. (Nov.)

The prolific Fox (Creativity; Meditations with Meister Eckhart), best known for his treatments of a variety of themes within spirituality as well as works on the great mystics, this time urges men to connect “with a spiritual side they do not know exists within them.” As Fox mentions, the word “hidden” in the title refers to an undiscovered, buried, even intentionally suppressed quality—the “Divine Masculine”—among men. The author tackles such spiritual themes as the body, sexuality, creativity, and fatherhood, exploring how these areas of human experience are also gateways to the Divine Masculine—often explaining how the Divine Masculine relates to the Divine Feminine within these areas as well. Fox’s ideas about men’s spirituality are complex, unlike the broth-thin prosperity spirituality sold by the likes of Rhonda Byrne. Fox deserves to find his true audience—thinking men (and women as well) who desire a rich exploration of “male spirituality” by a thinker who can draw as easily on Thomas Aquinas as he does on Greek mythology and the work of the Indian saint Swami Muktananda. (Nov.)

In 1947, when he was 14, Kraemer started to study Maimonides. Now, the 75-year-old professor emeritus at the University of Chicago has produced his magnum opus, a definitive biography of medieval Judaism’s chief intellectual sage. To prepare himself, Kraemer mastered many languages, traveled throughout the world and studied innumerable documents, including those found in the Genizah, the storeroom of Cairo’s Ben Ezra synagogue. The impressive results of Kraemer’s diligent research are set forth in this learned book, supported by 90 pages of footnotes. He offers a splendid analysis of Maimonides’s major works: Commentary on the Mishnah; Mishneh Torah and Guide to the Perplexed (which Kraemer calls Guide of the Perplexed.) The erudite presentation includes vital information about the life of Maimonides, tracing his path from his birth in Spain to his move to Morocco, his visit to Palestine and, finally, to his settling in Egypt. Kraemer’s imposing contribution is designed for his fellow scholars. General readers should turn to the more fathomable 2005 biography, Maimonides by Sherwin B. Nuland, from Nextbook/Schocken’s Jewish Encounters series and just published in paper. (Oct. 28)

When Anne Rice stopped crafting stories about vampires and began writing about Jesus, many of her fans were shocked. This autobiographical spiritual memoir provides an account of how the author rediscovered and fully embraced her Catholic faith after decades as a self-proclaimed atheist. Rice begins with her childhood in New Orleans, when she seriously considered entering a convent. As she grows into a young adult she delves into concerns about faith, God and the Catholic Church that lead her away from religion. The author finally reclaims her Catholic faith in the late 1990s, describing it as a movement toward total surrender to God. She writes beautifully about how through clouds of doubt and pain she finds clarity, realizing how much she loved God and desired to surrender her being, including her writing talent, to God. Covering such a large sequence of time and life events is not easy, and some of the author’s transitions are a bit jarring. Fans of Rice’s earlier works will enjoy discovering more about her life and fascinating journey of faith. (Oct. 7)

In the last 50 years, Buddhism, the philosophy that complements all traditions and competes with none, has become an American cultural phenomenon earning its own annual anthology. The 2008 volume, fifth in the series, reveals again through breadth and elegance the watersheds and rivulets of the ancient practice as it joins America’s mainstream. The luminaries are here: Thich Nhat Hanh, Sylvia Boorstein, the Dalai Lama, Pema Chödrön, Natalie Goldberg, John Daido Loori and five distinguished rinpoches, among others. Their guidance in texts and concepts is rich for varied stages of practice. Most touching, though, and most indefinably American, are first-person accounts of responses to life and its constant changes: James Kullander loses a former spouse; Aidan Delgado becomes a conscientious objector to the war in Iraq; Hannah Tennant-Moore confronts cadavers. These private views make it especially easy to see Buddhism’s current flowing with grace into everyday lives. Finally, revered teacher Joanna Macy’s short piece “Gratitude,” from her updated classic World as Lover, World as Self, lights a way for us to live with our planet, an essay not to be missed. (Oct.)

Why is it that Christians in the world’s most affluent nation give so little of their income to charity? This sociological study, based on extensive survey data and building on prior studies of Christian philanthropy, shows that American Christian groups typically give away only 1.5% to 2% of their income. Considering that this figure is based on self-reporting, the reality is probably even less. Catholics are the worst, with many Protestant groups in the middle and Mormons (whom this study regards as “non-Christian religious believers”) at the top. The first two chapters lay out the problem of Americans’ ungenerous behavior, while the third ventures explanations: it’s not that Americans don’t have the money, but that they spend it on luxuries and fail to perceive needs outside their own circles; also, churches are vague about expectations for giving. A fourth chapter delves into parishioners’ and pastors’ complex feelings about giving, while a stirring conclusion lays down the gauntlet for change. Although the primary audience will be academic, any pastor who has ever had to preach a stewardship sermon should also read this book. (Oct.)

This latest publication from the new monasticism movement is the third book each for the two young Christian activist-authors, and it offers fresh insight on the well-worn topic of prayer. Some themes are repeated from earlier works, but the book deftly succeeds in drawing the reader out of the weeds of daily life and into a more spacious field. The text is structured around three New Testament prayers: the Lord’s Prayer, Christ’s intercessory prayer in Chapter 17 of the Gospel of John and Paul’s prayer in the first chapter of Ephesians. From the very first pronoun of the familiar Lord’s Prayer (“our”), the authors extract a compelling sermon on the power and centrality of community in Christian life and thought. The dominant theme—that prayer invites human beings into a partnership with God in answering prayer—is enlivened with earthy tales from the authors’ own lives, wrenching stories of service and redemption from the people they know and lesser-known anecdotes from Christian history and sociology. Readers will never see prayer or community in quite the same way again. (Oct.)