Nonfiction Reviews

In this intimate reflection, Seidl, an ecologist, records her observations of life and ecology in the wooded Vermont hollow where she lives, depicting how human, animal and plant life is changing as the weather becomes warmer and less predictable. At Christmas, people are canoeing rather than skating; daffodils push through the ground in January; outbreaks of tent caterpillars, historically limited by winter deep freezes, stress the sugar bush. An ice-fishing derby “is cancelled more times than it is run. They can't depend on the ice... to hold up.” Seidl's tender descriptions of her young daughters' encounters with the natural world—skipping rocks, choosing Halloween pumpkins from the garden and “gorging on the abundance” of cherries picked off the tree—add personal poignancy to a subject “few can stand to talk about at any length.” Walking the woods with her husband and children on a Sunday morning, Seidl muses on “the scale of life itself... its infinite unfolding, and how... present joy is a reflection of deep time,” suggesting that, to avoid mass extinction, we “evolve a new set of values... consonant with ecocentrism.” (Mar.)

With a mix of appalled testimony and meticulous research, Walker (A Certain Curve of Horn) traces the story of ivory from Paleolithic times to the present and the devastation the ivory trade has wrought on African and Asian elephants—by one estimate, 2.8 million were killed between 1850 and 1914. At the height of the 19th century craze for ivory—which included a savage dependence on slaves to transport tusks to African trading centers—it was used for sacred artifacts, piano keys, pistol grips, toothpicks and billiard balls. By the 1980s, poaching threatened the last herds in Africa, leading to a worldwide ban on international trade, but with unintended consequences from laws so restrictive no ivory could be sold at all. By 1994, nine African nations had stockpiled 100 tons of “pickup” ivory, harvested from elephants that had died a natural death. This “great gift that the elephant leaves at the end of its life,” writes Walker, should be sold to help conserve endangered herds, a controversial proposal that spotlights the deep divide between ardent supporters of continuing the ban and conservationists concerned about the future of the elephant, now “more important than the treasure it supplies.” 16 pages of illus. (Jan.)

In 1879, Ponca chief Standing Bear challenged decades of Indian policy when he stood in a federal courthouse in Omaha, Neb., and demanded to be recognized as a person by the U.S. government. Journalist Starita masterfully portrays the chief's story in this compelling narrative of injustices finally righted. The Ponca, relocated from their beloved Niobrara River valley to the harsh plains of Oklahoma, found unlikely allies in a Nebraska newspaper man and a lifelong Indian fighter. Thomas Henry Tibbles, an ex-preacher and editor, filed a writ of habeas corpus on Standing Bear's behalf, demanding the government show good reason why the Ponca should be deprived of their property, homeland and their very lives without due process, an unprecedented act that forced the government to grapple head-on with whether Native Americans, like the recently emancipated black slaves, were persons entitled to equal protection under the law. Gen. George Crook, an accomplished Indian fighter, supported Standing Bear and Tibbles with a harsh indictment of the very policies he had spent his career implementing. Starita transforms what could have been a dry academic survey of U.S. Indian policy into an engaging yarn, full of drama and sudden revelations. (Jan.)

Robinson (Out of Our Minds), renowned in the areas of creativity development, innovation and human resources, tackles the challenge of determining and pursuing work that is aligned with individual talents and passions to achieve well-being and success. The element is what he identifies as the point where the activities individuals enjoy and are naturally good at come together. Offering a wide range of stories about the creative journeys of different people with diverse paths to the element—including Paul McCartney, The Alchemist author Paulo Coelho, and Vidal Sassoon as well as lesser-known examples—he demonstrates a rich vision of human ability and creativity. Covering such topics as the power of creativity, circles of influence, and attitude and aptitude, the author emphasizes the importance of nurturing talent along with developing an understanding of how talent expresses itself differently in every individual. Robinson emphasizes the importance of mentors and reforming and transforming education, making a convincing argument bolstered by solid strategies for honing creativity. Motivating and persuasive, this entertaining and inspiring book will appeal to a wide audience. (Jan.)

While academics frequently conduct research to try to unlock the secrets of garnering great wealth, Esquire editor D'Agostino took a more direct—and more entertaining—route: he picked the 20 wealthiest neighborhoods in America and went door to door, garnering interviews with 50 very wealthy, very different individuals—including doctors, art dealers, real estate moguls and one shrimp-peeling–machine manufacturer. Many of the author's subjects confessed that they have been less motivated by a drive for wealth than a desire for a certain lifestyle, an obsession with a certain field and a need for independence, and that focus, passion and street smarts have contributed more to their success than luck or any formal training. Several of his interviewees leveraged their success through reinvestment, often in real estate, raising the question of how well their net worths have survived in the current credit crunch. While D'Agostino freely admits that his sample is far from scientific, weighted heavily to friendly people who happened to be at home when he went calling, his debut is witty and inspiring. (Jan.)

Despite stellar credentials and more than 20 years of Wall Street experience, Harris, managing director of Goldman Sachs, clumsily delivers hackneyed business guidance. Broken down into chapters detailing “Carla's Pearls” of career advice, the author reneges on her promise to provide practical, strategic tools or specific, play-by-play answers and strategies for business success, depending instead on such standard business-book fare as “Be yourself,” “Know your goals,” “Brand yourself” and “Find a mentor.” Harris's strength is in her supportive tone; she speaks forcefully about asking for what you want, developing a “winner's lens” (the ability to always see yourself as a winner and present yourself as such) and the titular expectation of success, all reasonable advice. But handicapped by halting, repetitive writing and the mobbed state of the business self-help shelves, groaning with similar books offering more substantive strategies than this one, this title will likely sink without a trace. (Jan.)

Looking beyond the usual roster of right-wing Christians, anticommunist neo-cons and disgruntled working-class whites, this incisive study examines the unsung role of “a political movement of businessmen” in leading America's post-1960s rightward turn. Historian Phillips-Fein traces the hidden history of the Reagan revolution to a coterie of business executives, including General Electric official and Reagan mentor Lemuel Boulware, who saw labor unions, government regulation, high taxes and welfare spending as dire threats to their profits and power. From the 1930s onward, the author argues, they provided the money, organization and fervor for a decades-long war against New Deal liberalism—funding campaigns, think tanks, magazines and lobbying groups, and indoctrinating employees in the virtues of unfettered capitalism. Theirs was also a battle of ideas, she contends; the business vanguard nurtured conservative thinkers like economist Friedrich von Hayek and his secretive Mont Pellerin Society associates, who developed a populist free-market ideology that persuaded workers to side with their bosses against the liberal state. Combining piquant profiles of corporate firebrands with a trenchant historical analysis that puts economic conflict at the heart of political change, Phillips-Fein makes an important contribution to our understanding of American conservatism. Photos. (Jan.)

Alford (Big Kiss) recognizes that the elderly have been through more in their lives than the rest of us, and figures it might be a good idea to talk to some of them and see if they have any meaningful advice to impart. This plan sets off a prolonged meditation: what is wisdom, anyway? Some of his interview subjects are famous, like playwright Edward Albee or literary critic Harold Bloom—but it's the less recognized figures who consistently provide Alford with the most evocative source material, like the retired schoolteacher who lost her husband, her home and all her possessions in Hurricane Katrina but refuses to feel sorry for herself. The search is not all rosy: shortly after , Alford's interview with his stepfather, he loses his sobriety and the author becomes a sideline observer as his mother initiates divorce proceedings and moves into a retirement home. Such scenarios depart from the laugh-out-loud stories for which Alford is best known, but there are still enough moments of rich humor, like the guided tour of Sylvia Miles's cluttered apartment, for longtime fans of Alford. (Jan. 2)

Vincent's first trip to a mental institution—to which the writing of Self-Made Man drove her—convinced her that further immersion would give her great material for a follow-up. The grand tour consists of voluntary commitments to a hospital mental ward, a small private facility and a boutique facility; but Vincent's efforts to make a big statement about the state of mental health treatment quickly give way to a more personal journey. An attempt to wean herself off Prozac, for example, adds a greater sense of urgency to her second research trip, while the therapists overseeing her final treatment lead her to a major emotional breakthrough. Meanwhile, her fellow patients are easily able to peg her as an “emotional parasite,” though this rarely stops them from interacting with her—and though their neediness sometimes frustrates her, she is less judgmental of them than of the doctors and nurses. The conclusions Vincent draws from her experiences tend toward the obvious (the better the facilities, the better chance for recovery) and the banal: “No one can heal you except you.” Though keenly observed, her account never fully transcends its central gimmick. (Jan.)

When the urban bustle of Eugene, Ore., got to be too much, poet Minato (The Wider Lens) moved to a woodsy cabin on a commune and absorbed a year's worth of material for this uneven collection of essays and poems. Simplifying her life in the rustic surroundings, she learned that “it is freeing to emerge, even unwillingly, from the clutch of possessions.” A decomposing raccoon attuned her to the realities of life and death, chopping wood taught her patience, and snails reminded her to slow down. Minato's lyrical prose tosses off beguiling evocations of the landscape and flora around her (“The pheasants come out of the grass like puffs of smoke”) in almost every line. Unfortunately, her belletristic pensées can seem precious (”What is lost when I deny myself cloud-gazing?”) and her denunciations of consumer society sound both strident and shallow (“Why must there be 30 kinds of cereal?... Every minuscule decision takes time and energy, takes me that much further away from my writing, the land, the people I love and my connection with everything deeper”). There is finely wrought nature writing here, but pat assumptions about rural authenticity and the corruptions of society make Minato's year on the land seem curiously unexamined. Photos. (Jan.)

“I was doomed, early on, to be a word-spreader,” Pung writes, and her special burden was “to tell these stories that the women of my family made me promise never to tell a soul.” The stories are not of scandalous secrets or shocking revelations, but of the struggles faced by three generations of Asian women as they settle in a culturally Western country. Pung, a lawyer, recounts the journey her family made over the decades—from China, her grandparents' birthplace, to Cambodia, where her parents are born, through Vietnam and Thailand to Australia where, one month after their arrival, Pung is born. In retelling her grandmother's stories, the imagined is rendered credible; Pung captures her “form of magic, the magic of words that became movies in mind.” In recollecting her own story, Pung loses that magic in the ordinariness of adolescence, and as the family moves toward achieving the “Great Australian Dream,” it passes through familiar stages—the hard work of both parents, the distance created between generations and the anxieties suffered by the younger generation (“I had done everything right, and I had turned out so wrong”). The non-European-immigrant-girl-grows-up story is a familiar one to American readers. What's new about Pung's book is the Australian setting. That twist of focus reveals how more alike than different the experience is. (Jan.)

Kantor, who produced and directed the Emmy-winning Broadway: The American Musical for PBS in 2004, returns with a six-part PBS series on comedy. For this companion book, he teamed with NYU professor Maslon, editor of Library of America's George S. Kaufman collection. Their guide to guffaws and giggles ranges from silent film actors (Charles Chaplin, Buster Keaton) to sitcoms (Seinfeld), satire (Mad, SNL) and stand-up comics (George Carlin, Lenny Bruce). Taking a scattershot approach with 60-plus performer profiles and sidebars, the resulting text is sometimes superficial with curious oversights; two decades of radio comedy get squeezed into three pages, so Amos 'n' Andy and Bob and Ray rate only a few paragraphs; Stan Freberg sold millions of records yet is dismissed in a single sentence.” With hundreds of fascinating photographs, this book benefits from the TV series' extensive photo research, but what is certain to be a hilarious cascade of clips on PBS is a pratfall in print. (Dec. 2)

Book collectors are an eccentric but persistent lot, as Willes shows in this history of the buying and selling of books. With an emphasis on Great Britain (one chapter is devoted to Thomas Jefferson), Willes, former publisher of the National Trust, tackles her subject with considerable learning and with a gusto atypical of a scholarly volume. Of especial interest are insights on Samuel Pepys's diary entries on books acquired; the first memoir of an English bookseller in 1705, The Life and Errors of John Dunton; the significance of the spread of coffee houses in Britain during the 18th century (not unlike the “Starbucks effect” on the Internet generation); the 16th-century origins of the Frankfurt Book Fair and the paperback and bookstore-chain revolutions of the 20th century. The role of women as collectors and disseminators, from Bess of Hardwick in the 16th century to Oprah Winfrey, is notable. There's a wealth of information here, though some chapters cohere more successfully than others, and a somewhat breathless final chapter surprisingly omits Amazon and e-books as they relate to collecting. 90 illus. (Nov.)

Few names in American arts and letters resonate like Yaddo, the artists' colony on a wooded estate in Saratoga Springs, N.Y., which has hosted generations of America's greatest writers, artists, critics and musicians. In this splendid book, which accompanies an exhibition at the New York Public Library, McGee (the exhibit's curator) and her contributors trace Yaddo's history through both personal recollections and historical research. Poetry critic Helen Vendler recalls the glittering conversations she had and the freedom, solitude and inspiration her stays gave her to delve into Yeats's life, while Allan Gurganus writes evocatively about the ghosts who are said to haunt the mansion. McGee chronicles Yaddo's origins as the country retreat of Spencer and Katrina Trask and their children and its development in 1926 into an artists' retreat, presided over by Elizabeth Ames for almost 40 years. David Gates relates that Yaddo's artistic soil is so fertile that its residents have racked up 62 Pulitzers, 58 National Book Awards, 24 MacArthur Fellowships and 106 Rome Prizes. Chock-full of photographs, this lavishly detailed book offers an intimate glimpse into life at this enchanting and storied retreat. (Nov.)

Scrapbooks were “the original open-source technology,” says graphic designer Helfand, who teaches at Yale, in this appreciative and analytical tour through a century's worth of visual historical record books. This “eclectic, yet inclusive genre provide[s] a cross section of the range and pluralism of more than a century of modern American experience.” The scrapbook compiles artifacts that illustrate their times, ranging from photographs of Rita Hayworth to ration cards, yet also render psychological portraits of their makers, whether young Victorian school girls, the mother of F. Scott Fitzgerald or WWII soldiers. A scrapbook's historical lessons can be gleaned by studying its content, form, commentary and even the wear of included items, and its intended viewers. Tracing the evolution of the scrapbook from a documentary record through manifestation of fantasy to nostalgic rendering or compendium of loved things, Helfand roughly sketches American history through creating her own scrapbook of scrapbooks. This book is colored at times by her privileging of older forms, which she sees as more personal and authentic expressions than the products of today's craft-oriented scrapbookers. But like any good scrapbook, this is a personal collage of a collective experience. (Nov.)

A historian of American conservatism, Schneider (editor of Conservatism in America since 1930: A Reader) effectively outlines what he sees as the development of conservatism through the 20th century from a reactionary philosophy into a revolutionary and politically successful movement. To this end he traces conservatism from initial opposition to progressivism and the New Deal, examining various policies and reforms that have elevated conservatism to its current pinnacle as a powerful political force. Briefly profiling key personalities, from H.L. Mencken to Phyllis Schlafly and Barry Goldwater, he also examines organizations like the John Birch Society and the lesser-known Philadelphia Society, and movement milestones, including the disappointment older conservatives felt with Reagan, the “Gingrich revolution,” the rise of the Fox News Channel and the “bromidic verbal ripostes” of Ann Coulter. Schneider takes a broad approach, considering conservatism a “protean” movement that eludes easy definition, and succeeds in illustrating his assertion that this fluidity has allowed conservatism to flourish for an entire century. Students of political history will find a valuable perspective in this study. (Nov.)

Since 1962, big-box stores of 20,000 to 28,000 square feet have dotted the American landscape, their “bare-boned” appearance, according to artist Christensen, promising “bare-boned bargains.” But after the box is vacated, sometimes after only a few years, a community is left with a decision about what to do with the structure. Christensen focuses on empty Wal-Mart and Kmart stores to discuss 10 imaginative and successful projects converting boxes into a library, a Head Start center and a senior resource center, among others. Charter schools have moved into empty big boxes, as have churches, for whom, Christensen says, the big box may be “the revival tent of the twenty-first century.” Christensen's stories can become repetitive, but the themes she draws from her investigations carry conviction and a sense of urgency. She argues that eventual reuse should be a part of a big box's original design, and that information on reuse should be disseminated so municipalities can make informed decisions. But she also questions whether we should want a future landscape of renovated big box stores: “We are what we build,” she says. 77 color photos. (Nov.)

Curtis Roosevelt was barely three years old when his grandfather FDR became president and he and his older sister, Eleanor, and mother, Anna Roosevelt (recently separated from the children's father), joined Franklin and Eleanor as residents in the White House for much of the next 12 years. Curtis and “Sis” quickly became known through the press as “Sistie and Buzzie,” whose slide and monkey bars adorned the White House lawn. Curtis writes affectionately and beautifully about his grandparents, but he also describes their large, sheltering presence as a double-edged sword. “Life outside the protective—and isolated—White House cocoon,” he writes, “became hugely distorted, especially for an impressionable youngster like me.” Along with relaying a rich and fascinating cornucopia of anecdotes involving family life, Curtis devotes thoughtful discussion to the complex subject of reflected fame and its impact on young people growing up as the scions of celebrity. No one alive today knew Franklin and Eleanor quite as well as Curtis, their eldest grandson, and his sister. Thus this splendid, intimate memoir represents an invaluable addition to the literature of the Roosevelt era. Illus. (Nov.)

Journalist Lytle brings the capital punishment debate into sharp focus with her account of five men wrongly convicted and sentenced to death but later freed. The men, Lytle shows, were victims of false testimony and police coercion, among other ills of the justice system, and served up to 17 years in prison—much of it on death row. Michael Graham remained on death row for 14 years for the murder of en elderly couple before the key witness admitted fabricating her testimony. Madison Hobley, beaten and coerced into confessing to a deadly arson, spent 13 years on death row before he was pardoned. Randal Padgett, accused of raping and murdering his wife, was imprisoned for five and a half years—three and a half on death row—before he was granted a new trial and acquitted. Drawing on court documents and extensive interviews with the death row survivors, Lytle shines light on the often overlooked hardships these men face in returning to society after spending years in a six-by-nine-foot cell. (Nov.)

Stampf, a prominent German filmmaker and journalist, reveals the harrowing true-life account of a German computer company employee, Armin Meiwes, who killed a willing victim, Bernd Brandes, and ate him in a fetish ritual. Interviewing Meiwes in 30 sessions at a high-security prison, the author discovers a shy, pleasant man who entered into an agreement with a bisexual man he met on the Internet who wanted to be butchered and consumed. Stampf probes Meiwes's emotional isolation and the homoerotic fantasies of both killer and victim through talks with family, friends and experts, entering some very dark places of gay underground sadomasochistic sex rituals. Prepared with the aid of criminal profiler Brown, this bizarre and gruesome book spares no detail of the crime and the troubled psyches of the cannibal and the victim. It is not for the faint of heart. (Nov.)

“Science is the only way of knowing—everything else is just superstition,” says physicist Park (Voodoo Science) in this thinly argued rehash of the debate between science and religion. Among other questions, Park revisits experiments regarding the healing power of intercessory prayer (prayer for the healing of others), citing several studies that he claims are meaningless because it is impossible to measure prayer. Further, he says, only science, not prayer, con protect us from so-called “acts of God,” like a tsunami. Park argues against the existence of the soul by debunking a tale of reincarnation and even interprets the Bible to his own purposes. But this chapter also shows how disjointed his arguments can be, as he jumps from the Plan B contraceptive to genes and memes to stem cells and ghosts. Such issues have been covered more eloquently and in greater depth by thinkers like Daniel Dennett in Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon. (Nov.)

As the technological environment speeds up to a maddening degree, Klingberg, a professor of developmental cognitive neuroscience at Sweden's Karolinska Institute, warns that the huge burden of information overload and multitasking can exceed the limits of our slowly evolving “stone-age” brain. Using data showing the subtle increase in IQ scores during the last century and its link to educational improvements, Klingberg notes a gap between the rapidity of electronic high-tech devices and the brain's relatively slower capacity to process information, leading to memory malfunctions. The text can be somewhat academic, but the amount of scientific fact translated to something the reader can use is still sizable, including keen writing on the impact on working memory of problem solving, meditation, computer games, caffeine and the existence of attention deficit disorder. Klingberg also reviews the evidence that mental “exercise” can increase the capacity of working memory. A highly sane look at the increasingly insane demands of the information age, this book discusses with precision a subject worthy of attention. B&w illus. (Nov.)

Applying the work of Michel Foucault to the contemporary Middle East, this highly theoretical book examines the “means of control used to manage” the Palestinian population in the Occupied Territories of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. Gordon, a professor of politics at Ben-Gurion University, begins by exploring the diffuse mechanisms of power—in the political, civilian, geographical and economic arenas—used to normalize the occupation in its first years, making the ostensibly temporary occupation permanent. Later chapters take a more specific historical approach, examining a series of events that radically transformed these power structures: the first intifada, the Oslo Accords and the second intifada, which, the author argues, required a reorganization of Israeli power in the Occupied Territories, leading to the disregard of the Palestinians inhabiting those territories. Gordon focuses on the treatment of Palestinians in the Occupied Territories and writes for a decidedly scholarly audience; as a result, the book's usefulness beyond academics will likely be limited. (Nov.)

Bennis's book seeks to provide all “information needed to answer the cries for war” with a concise summation (and point by point deconstruction) of how the Bush administration has beaten the drums for war with Iran. Bennis (Understanding the Palestinian-Israeli Conflict) also includes a brief history of American-Iranian relations, arguing that American attitudes have consistently been informed by economic considerations, particularly in regards to oil; referring to Iran's successful efforts to sell its oil for international currencies other than the dollar, the author writes that American anxiety over Iranian nuclear capabilities “must be viewed in the context of far more longstanding U.S. concerns over Iran's decades-long efforts... to weaken its potential competitors... in the Middle East.” The writing is clear and convincing, but the author's argument is poorly organized and suffers from a surprising amount of repetition in a book so slim. The author seems unconcerned with winning over opponents, but her target audience—those who fear an attack on Iran before the current administration leaves office—will find this book helpful in marshaling their arguments against such action. (Nov.)

In this study of ancient myth, tragedy and philosophy, Sissa (Greek Virginity) traces the evolution of desire from Homer to St. Augustine. In the ancient world, sex was recognized as capable of fomenting all sorts of havoc (or, in the case of Oedipus and his mother, “genealogical chaos”), but desire was considered a distraction, with pleasure an enjoyable byproduct. In the early Christian world, however, the author demonstrates how desire and pleasure became problematic—marriage was a “second choice when compared with chastity.” According to the author, women's demonization was the one constant: artists portrayed women as motivated by vanity and neediness, with a complicated and often twisted sexuality. Sissa draws on ancient texts for her evidence, but this book is no mere romp through ancient literature; the author's argument is informed by her mastery of the subject and scholarly rigor and daring—she takes on Foucault's seminal work on the subject. Although the book will be of greatest interest to scholars, enthusiasts for the great books may also find it an illuminating complement to their reading. (Nov.)

Gimmicks are mercifully absent in this revealing introduction to the male psyche that introduces romantic partners and family members to the process of male socialization (the “ten commandments of growing up male” such as “there is only one way to be a man,” “fear the feminine,” “funnel... feelings into sex or aggression”) and the entrenched cultural rules that men confront and struggle to live up to. Blazina, a male-psychology expert, is a compassionate guide. While some territory has already been mined by others, his effort serves more ably than most as a practical instrument for improving relationships with men, through unpacking the “secret shoebox,” a metaphorical place where men store their most private wishes, fantasies and pains; making enlightening suggestions for helping the notorious “Peter Pan” become an adult; and providing examples of how women—often unwittingly—“emotionally castrate” the men in their lives. “Mars” and “Venus” are nowhere in sight as Blazina embraces commonalities between the sexes in this respectful and deeply healing book. (Nov.)

In this enthralling third installment of his Hitchcock trilogy (after The Dark Side of Genius and The Art of Alfred Hitchcock), Spoto paints a portrait of a man as talented as he was troubled. Spoto examines each film in terms of its leading lady, but focuses especially on the three cool blondes with whom Hitchcock was famously obsessed: Ingrid Bergman (Spellbound, Notorious and Under Capricorn), Grace Kelly (Dial “M” for Murder, Rear Window and To Catch a Thief) and Tippi Hedren (The Birds and Marnie). While Bergman never returned Hitchcock's romantic advances, the pair struck up a lasting friendship. With Kelly, Hitchcock felt he had molded the young actress into his ideal woman with just the right mix of elegance and sexuality. When Kelly left Hollywood, Hitchcock sought a replacement and found newcomer Tippi Hedren, whom he both fawned over and humiliated during their two films together. Relying on hours of personal interviews with both Hitchcock and his various players, Spoto shines an admiring yet unflinching light on one of the most celebrated directors in history. (Nov.)

Why does music have such universal appeal, and how does music help us understand human nature? In this sometimes electrifying, sometimes pedantic journey through the world of music, world famous director, composer and conductor Barenboim engages these and other questions as he searches to unlock music's peculiar power. In the book's first part, he meditates on topics ranging from sound and thought, listening and hearing through a tale of two Palestinians from different backgrounds (one grew up in a Ramallah refugee camp, the other in Nazareth), in which he chronicles the ways that music changed their lives. He recalls how music bridged the gap of political hatred in the West-Eastern Divan project, an orchestra composed of Israeli and Palestinian musicians that he and the late Edward Said put together. For the young people in this orchestra, music provided the language for continuous dialogue. The book's second section gathers occasional pieces previously published in magazines and newspapers that range over topics from Schumann, Bach and Mozart to Pierre Boulez and Wilhelm Furtwängler. In his tribute to his late friend Edward Said, for example, Barenboim recalls that for Said every musical masterpiece was a conception of the world. Barenboim concludes through these illuminating meditations that the power of music lies in its ability to speak to all aspects of the human being. (Nov.)

More haunting death album than biography, this book presents the life of the troubled Nirvana front man through a series of never-before-seen candid snapshots, scribbled lyrics and photographs of treasured mementos. Beginning with Cobain's early life in Aberdeen, Wash., Cross includes reproductions of items more intimate than mere family photos: a Thanksgiving card 13-year-old Kurt drew, an array of favorite T-shirts and even a card enabling Cobain to receive food stamps. Cross—who profiled the musician in his authorized biography, Higher Than Heaven—has a fan's adoration of memorabilia both well-known (an early, handwritten draft of “Smells Like Teen Spirit”) and obscure (Cobain's collection of heart-shaped boxes, which both inspired a song of the same name and was a passion shared with his wife, Courtney Love). Several of the reproductions are designed as replicas of the original items (such as early Nirvana stickers and a mask designed by Cobain), and the tactile quality of the book, in addition to the biographical text, make it imperative for fans to do just as Cobain instructs in one of his diary entries: “look through my things and figure me out.” (Nov.)

If one is of the mind that W.B. Yeats is a bit overrated as a poet and that his brother, Jack B. Yeats, underrated as a painter, this book is a must. Although Bedient, a poet and professor of English at UCLA, does not exactly derogate Yeats the poet, the fact that Jack, little known outside Ireland, commands half this book suggests a slight repositioning of the brothers Yeats on the aesthetic map. Bedient's thesis—that both Yeatses evinced a very modernist view of motion—is a nonstarter throughout, and Bedient's penchant for Deleuzian analysis makes for some silly assertions. Though he does contribute a sensational reading of W.B.'s often overlooked “Crazy Jane” poems, the real value of this book is his spirited description of Jack's thickly impastoed oils, depicting rural and Irish life in garish colors wherein figuration melts into an expressionist background. These are given very game and energetic paraphrases by Bedient, often excessive, but written with a conviction reminiscent of William Gass. “[Jack] Yeats's artistic soul is a verb spread out by a stream of the flightier prepositions: his representations are toward and beside and between and against, more than they are of or about.” The same can be said of this charming study. (Nov.)

Lord (Knights Templar in Britain) charts the rise and fall of the secret Hell-Fire Clubs, dispelling myths and exaggerated tales to present an accurate portrait of the upper-class male members, their activities and the events that led to club formations in Britain and America during the 18th century. The author sifts fact from fiction as she provides an entertaining catalogue of various clubs—the Mohocks, the Medmenham Friars, the Beggar's Benison. Readers looking for sordid tales of orgies and satanic rituals may be disappointed by Lord's findings, which reveal that the clubs were more preoccupied with drinking, costumes, politics, dirty poetry and blasphemous jokes than with sacrificing virgins. However, the book is peppered with salacious tidbits, as the clubs did enjoy boxes of imported leather dildos, strippers, violent and random attacks on strangers, erotic literature and Bibles decorated with phallic symbols. This well-researched work—which also profiles important club members and explains the demise of the clubs in the 19th century—is a must-read for anyone interested in uncovering the truth about the legendary Hell-Fire Clubs. (Nov.)

Signature

Reviewed by Christine Kenneally

The ways language and thought intertwine have long intrigued scientists. Does language shape the way we see the world? Does the world influence the structure of language? Do we think in words? Such lofty questions pondered in many an ivory tower would go unanswered without the mostly anonymous work of field linguists. These scholars venture into isolated communities and wrestle with culture shock, broken tape recorders and dysentery—all to learn an unfamiliar language from the ground up. Their work is painstaking, and no matter how smart or how educated they are, their projects must begin with the most elementary communicative tactics—they point at a rock or a tree or a bird, and whether they are in Australia's Western Desert, the remote islands of Indonesia or the jungles of Brazil, their interlocutor will respond, “rock” or “tree” or “bird” in the native tongue.

Dan Everett's life as a field linguist began when he entered a Pirahã village in the Amazonian jungle in December 1977. After being greeted by a happy, chattering crowd, he walked over to a man cooking on a small fire. First, he tapped his own chest and said, “Daniel,” then he pointed at the animal being cooked on the fire. “Káixihí,” said the man. Everett pointed at a stick. “Xií” said the man. Everett dropped the stick and said, “I drop the xii.” “Xií xi bigí kíobíi,” his new friend replied, meaning “stick it ground falls.” Thus began 30 years of dedication to the Pirahã and their native tongue, a mystifying system of sound and rules unrelated to any other language in the world.

In this fascinating and candid account of life with the Pirahã, Everett describes how he learned to speak fluent Pirahã (pausing occasionally to club the snakes that harassed him in his Amazonian “office”). He also explains his discoveries about the language—findings that have kicked off more than one academic brouhaha. Everett learned that Pirahã does not use what are supposed to be universal aspects of grammar, an observation that runs counter to linguistic dogma about how culture, the brain and language connect. For Everett, Pirahã is evidence that culture plays a crucial and previously unacknowledged role in the creation of language.

Everett's life with the Pirahã cost him dearly. He almost lost two family members to malaria, and his first marriage broke down after years of highly productive shared field work. But life in the Amazon taught him a great deal about human nature, too, perhaps more about his own than that of the Pirahã. Everett began his linguistic work as a Christian missionary, but the Pirahã were marvelously impervious to his promise of a life with Jesus. They pointed out that Everett simply had no proof for the supernatural world he described, and in the end he found himself agreeing with them. He left the church, choosing a world that more honestly integrated his goals as a scholar with the world view of his Pirahã friends—one where evidence matters. (Nov. 11)

Christine Kenneally is the author of The First Word: The Search for the Origins of Language, a finalist for the L.A. Times Book Prize.

Atwood's book is a weird but wonderful mélange of personal reminiscences, literary walkabout, moral preachment, timely political argument, economic history and theological query, all bound together with wry wit and careful though casual-seeming research. “Every debt comes with a date on which payment is due,” Atwood observes on this conversational stroll, from the homely and familiar “notion of fairness” and “notion of equivalent values” in Kingsley's Water Babies to the thornier connection between debt and sin, memory and redemption in Aeschylus's Eumenides. “Any debt involves a story line,” Atwood points out as she leads the reader into “the nineteenth century [when] debt as plot really rages through the fictional pages,” and ruin is financial for men, but sexual for women. Things get even darker on “the shadow side” where “the nastier forms of debt and credit”—debtors' prisons, loan sharks and rebellions—abide. Atwood is encyclopedic in her range, following threads wherever they lead—credit cards and computer programs, Sin Eaters, Saint Nicholas, Star Trek, the history of pawnshops and of taxation, Elmore Leonard's Get Shorty and Dante's Divine Comedy, Christ and Faust—and a consistently captivating storyteller. (Nov.)