Nonfiction

Focusing on the phenomenon of viral culture, Wasik, senior editor at Harper's magazine, reflects on his own Internet experiments, beginning with the creation of “flash mobs,” a pop phenomena of 2003. Wasik asked hundreds of people to gather in public for no apparent reason, and news of these gatherings that mysteriously coalesced and disbanded spread rabidly through blogs and e-mails. The groups were created by Wasik to explore the growing world of “memes,” ideas that spread through culture, “colonizing all as widely and ruthlessly as [they] can.” He examines other Internet sensations—the meteoric rise and fall of pop bands, guerrilla marketing and political blogs—relating how such “nanostories” contribute to growing cynicism in a media-saturated and consumer-savvy public. He draws on the work of Steven Levitt and Malcolm Gladwell to demonstrate that the desire to interpret the analysis of culture has outstripped the desire to understand the culture itself. Wasik's examples are culled from the trivial—e.g., ephemeral indie bands and forgettable ad campaigns—but his deft style and provocative insights keep the book significant. (June)

Neiwert (Strawberry Days), founder of the political blog Orcinus, links the proliferation of radical conservative ideas in the political mainstream to the looming specter of “eliminationism,” an ideology rejecting dialogue and debate “in favor of the pursuit of outright elimination of the opposing side, either through suppression, exile, and eviction, or extermination.” Eliminationism has taken many forms in American history, from the attitudes of early settlers toward the Native Americans they displaced and the rise of the Ku Klux Klan to the establishment of “Sundown Towns” that banned nonwhite residents and the internment of Japanese-Americans during WWII. In recent years, the eliminationist urge, articulated by conservative fringe groups associated with the Christian Patriot movement, has emerged in talk radio, news networks and national press outlets providing a platform for attacks on immigrants, Muslims, homosexuals and liberals. In these efforts, the author discerns a nascent American fascism, an argument that is by turns frightening and overwrought. Rich in historical and journalistic detail, the book offers a fine overview of the uglier strains in American politics. However, those looking for concrete solutions will find the author's call for ever-increasing vigilance somewhat less than fortifying. (May)

Inspired by her successful blog of the same name, life coach Slim shows readers how to navigate the terrifying yet gratifying transition from corporate drone to entrepreneur. She strikes a perfect balance between emotional encouragement and practical advice: “Hating your job intensely,” she writes, “is not a business plan.” What's here is: the nitty-gritty of getting a business off the ground, legal considerations, making the best use of social networking sites, the components of a business model, organized creative brainstorming, financial advice, shopping for self-paid insurance and benefits, and helpful anecdotes of real-life entrepreneurship. With her humorous insights into corporate life and an appealing no-nonsense yet empathic tone, Slim deals swiftly and incisively with anxiety, fear and hesitation. Readers will cheer as she teaches the tricks behind finding “what makes you purr”—what people will pay you to do, what you have a great passion for and what you are genetically encoded to do. This is a standout in the start-your-own business genre. (May)

In this smug paean to extreme wealth, Jones, founder of Worth magazine, identifies the Richest Man in Town in 100 American cities and towns, and gathers their secrets of success. The profiled “RMITs” range from household names like Bill Gates to the lesser-known Fred DeLuca, founder of Subway; Bob Stiller, founder of Green Mountain Coffee; and Jorge Perez, real estate mogul and most successful Latino man in the country. The collected advice is organized as 12 hackneyed “commandments”: “find your passion,” “be your own boss,” “say yes to sales” and “work through obstacles,” with small examples throughout. Given the paucity of usable advice, it's hard to imagine who the audience would be for a book compiling the mantras of a group of people whose average net worth is $3.5 billion. This book might inspire some readers to go forth and live the American dream—as Jones points out, fully 90% of all wealth in America today is first-generation wealth, and all the subjects in the book are self-made—if they can endure the self-congratulatory tone. (May)

In these luminous essays on wanderlust, Caswell, an assistant professor of creative writing at Texas Tech University, embraces travel writer Bruce Chatwin's contention that walking is a poetic act that can cure the world of its ills. While the power of perambulation remains to be seen, the author's walks along the Ganges and in Idaho, New Mexico, Arizona, California and Japan do salve his restless soul. His travels culminate in a Death Valley vision that replaces his pervasive sense of dislocation with the answer to a question that has nagged him for years: what is home? Though a vivid connection with nature courses through the writing, Caswell also ruminates on a failed marriage's emotional turmoil, a bisexual friend's attraction to him, a grievous collision with a fawn, a promising student's tragic death and an encounter on a rugged Japanese mountain with a sage wild man—epiphanies recounted with unaffected honesty. The last essay takes the author to Fairbanks, Alaska, where he was born, and to the realization that his military father's transfer when he was five months old gave him “the bliss and rhythm of motion,” a bliss these revelatory essays vividly convey. (May)

In this uneven essay collection, writers living mostly in the Pacific Northwest and the wide open spaces of Colorado, Wyoming and Montana chronicle their personal experiences of “gleaning”—living, partially or completely, off the things others have thrown away. Far from merely “going green,” the contributors are proud dumpster divers, yard sale fanatics and foragers for road kill who ably defend gleaning as a rejection of consumerism. The writers pose provocative questions about the taboo against reusing castoff goods in Western societies and why environmental consciousness is so closely linked with buying green products rather than reusing castoff goods; this practice many Americans dismiss as unseemly, unhygienic, even “white trash,” as the editor notes, opens a much needed discussion on the environmental movement's class issues that is unfortunately never satisfyingly explored. While heartfelt and sincere, the essays vary in quality; several are too raw to make a compelling argument. And the contributors' mix of sanctimony and guilt (some even feel guilty about sanctimoniousness) might be more off-putting than inspiring. (May)

If Y2K proved anticlimactic, the Y1K crisis—apocalyptic expectations surrounding the year 1000—had a lasting impact, argues this far-ranging, over-reaching history of medieval Europe. Holland (Persian Fire) surveys the two and a half centuries between the fragmenting of Charlemagne's empire and the First Crusade, visiting milestones like the Norman conquest of England along with lesser invasions, raids, feudal vendettas, kidnappings and pope vs. antipope squabbles. He discerns movement amid the tumult and slaughter, as Catholic Europe went from anxious beleaguerment by the barbarians coming from every direction to confident expansionism. Holland's thesis that it was the disappointment of millennial hopes that gave Christendom its new focus on worldly progress is weakly supported; he has a hard time showing that anyone besides churchmen thought about the approaching millennium. His greater theme is Catholicism's civilizing mission: pagan foes are converted and co-opted, a new class of marauding knights is tamed by Church peace councils, and Pope Gregory VII's defiance of Emperor Henry IV inaugurates church-state separation. Holland's colorful, energetic narrative vividly captures the medieval mindset, while conveying the dynamism that underlay a seemingly static age. Maps. (May 5)

In The Barber of Seville, Figaro admits, “Where there's a call for my services, I am a man of initiative who goes to work with a will.” So, too, Figaro's creator, the irrepressible and optimistic libertine Beaumarchais (1732–1799) gained support for his infamous Figaro plays, helped fellow authors procure copyrights and went into exile during the French Revolution. Rather than presenting a strictly chronological account, Lever (Sade: A Biography), who died in 2006, examines one great episode at a time, allowing for full immersion in each of the playwright's self-made difficulties. He lost considerable sums of his own while funneling French funds to support the American Revolution, asserting that the “cause of America is... the cause of humanity.” But Beaumarchais experienced the terrors of a revolution done badly in his own country and was nearly executed for his efforts. Never apologetic for his appetites and fondness for controversy, Beaumarchais slyly asked, “When one has got a bad reputation, what remains but to enjoy it?” This edition is packed with adventures, leaving one to wonder what other entertaining anecdotes are in the three-volume French version. 8 pages of b&w illus. (May 5)

With a beautiful balance of critique and sympathy, Dowie (Losing Ground) challenges the halos of the major multinational conservation nonprofits, including the Nature Conservancy and the Worldwide Fund for Nature, in this exposé of their disastrous treatment and expulsions of indigenous peoples living in nature reserves and parks. Dowie traces the myth of “wilderness” as an “idealized version of nature” to John Muir, the “Godfather of Conservation,” who denied that Indians ever lived in Yosemite despite their longtime cultivation of the area; he was “revolted” by their eating habits and “uncleanliness” and said they “had no place in the landscape.” This American concoction of a pristine wilderness park, and the idea that humans are not a part of nature, was exported throughout the world, wreaking havoc among both dislocated indigenous people and the environments that they had nurtured with traditional knowledge, for hundreds, even thousands of years. Dowie comes to a surprisingly optimistic conclusion, noting recent collaborations between indigenous peoples and conservation organizations—who are beginning to realize that “only by preserving cultural diversity can biological diversity be protected, and vice versa.” (May)

This husband-and-wife team, respectively an evolutionary biologist and a psychiatrist specializing in women's health, have written a delightful, thought-provoking volume on perennial questions about female biology. Each of five chapters centers on one question: why do women menstruate? why is ovulation hidden? what's the evolutionary function of the female breast? is there an evolutionary explanation for the female orgasm? and why does menopause occur? Barash and Lipton acknowledge there are no definitive answers to any of these questions. What they do so very well is offer numerous hypotheses along with ideas on how to test them. For example, they propose that the female orgasm might, among other possibilities, facilitate fertilization, serve as a copulatory reward, encourage monogamy or reduce infanticide. Along the way, they present a large amount of accessible information about biology, psychology, physiology and anatomy. Even more important, they demonstrate how scientists work to create and assess hypotheses while having a great deal of fun. They also show how science slowly but inexorably pushes back the darkness surrounding complex issues and how evolutionary theory can help us understand all aspects of human biology. Photos. (May)

Reporting on WWII for the Chicago Daily News from 1941 to 1945, George Weller (1907–2002) filed stories from every theater. He won a Pulitzer Prize in 1943 for a story on an emergency appendectomy performed with kitchen utensils on a submarine in Japanese waters. He was strafed and shelled, contracted recurrent malaria, trained as a paratrooper, flew a mission over Italy on a B-17 with two engines down. He was the first outside observer at nuclear-devastated Nagasaki. He reported it all in an urbane, understated style that never palls. Weller had no sense of himself as a Great Journalist—which perhaps is why he was one. Weller's 1944 presentation of “the worldwide American” stands out as a model of brevity and insight: “His foreign policy represents an attempt to become popular by being benevolent, rather than to be respected by being reasonable.” Weller has been obscured by better known personalities like Ernie Pyle. This anthology, edited by his son, should give him the recognition his work merits. 16 pages of b&w photos. (Apr.)

In this remarkable account of the April 20, 1999, Columbine High School shooting, journalist Cullen not only dispels several of the prevailing myths about the event but tackles the hardest question of all: why did it happen? Drawing on extensive interviews, police reports and his own reporting, Cullen meticulously pieces together what happened when 18-year-old Eric Harris and 17-year-old Dylan Klebold killed 13 people before turning their guns on themselves. The media spin was that specific students, namely jocks, were targeted and that Dylan and Eric were members of the Trench Coat Mafia. According to Cullen, they lived apparently normal lives, but under the surface lay “an angry, erratic depressive” (Klebold) and “a sadistic psychopath” (Harris), together forming a “combustible pair.” They planned the massacre for a year, outlining their intentions for massive carnage in extensive journals and video diaries. Cullen expertly balances the psychological analysis—enhanced by several of the nation's leading experts on psychopathology—with an examination of the shooting's effects on survivors, victims' families and the Columbine community. Readers will come away from Cullen's unflinching account with a deeper understanding of what drove these boys to kill, even if the answers aren't easy to stomach. (Apr. 6)

Bestselling recovery expert and motivational speaker Bradshaw (Family Secrets), presents an in-depth survey of human behavior from many angles in a probing exploration of our inner guidance system. Beginning with “magnificent moral moments” (a black girl integrating a school smiles at a woman who spat at her), he interweaves his own tangled life experiences: he obtained advanced degrees in theology and philosophy, yet lost jobs after alcoholic binges even after a 12-step recovery program; he still felt like he was “on the outside of life looking in” and set out to change the direction of his life. Inviting the reader to join him on his “personal journey to make sense out of the complexities and ambiguities of the moral/ethical order,” Bradshaw divides his book into three potent and compelling sections: part one defines the nature of moral intelligence; the second section examines how to develop that intelligence. In the final pages, he outlines family goals and offers ways for readers to develop their children's moral intelligence. Bradshaw followers and many first-time readers will find this an extremely effective and valuable guide. (Apr. 28)

An NYU professor of American Jewish history, Diner (The Jews of the United States, 1654–2000) sets out to refute what she contends is an accepted truth: that until the 1960s, American Jewry suffered from a “self-imposed collective amnesia” about the Holocaust. Diner marshals considerable evidence that American Jews were aware of the Holocaust and their culture was influenced by it, from their newspapers to youth movements, to whom speakers repeatedly invoked the Holocaust. They raised $45 million in 1945 alone to succor survivors in Europe. A 1952 commemorative Passover text from the American Jewish Congress was widely distributed and reprinted yearly in Jewish newspapers. Even Adolph Lerner's failed campaign to create a memorial in New York City demonstrates postwar American Jewish engagement with the Holocaust, Diner says. The 1961 publication of Yevtushenko's “Babi Yar” exposed both German barbarities and Soviet anti-Semitism. Diner's worthy, innovative, diligently researched work should spark controversy and meaningful dialogue among Holocaust scholars and in the Jewish community, but her vigorous defense of American Jews would pack more punch if she had devoted more space to the arguments she disputes. Photos. (Apr.)

Science writer Bartusiak (Through a Universe Darkly) vividly tells the story behind the discovery that changed our cozy view of the universe. One hundred years ago, the Milky Way was all the cosmos we knew, “a lone, star-filled oasis surrounded by a darkness of unknown depth.” But in 1929, word came that the universe was expanding. The find is largely attributed to astronomer Edwin Hubble, a Rhodes scholar and dandy, while he was observing the heavens through Mount Wilson's 100-inch telescope. Hubble became a media hit, but as Bartusiak explains, this finding was part of a long chain of discoveries made at the time. James Keeler's stellar photographs first revealed mysterious “celestial flocks” of fainter nebulae, and Henrietta Leavitt's relentless study of variable stars became the basis for determining stellar distances. Hubble's rival, Harlow Shapley, unveiled the architecture of the Milky Way and Earth's insignificant position within it. From the women “computers” who analyzed stellar photographs for Harvard to Mars-mad Percival Lowell, Bartusiak reveals the vibrant beginnings of modern astronomy, along with all the dreams and fears, rivalries and triumphs, of those involved. (Apr. 7)

For Cope, life in her small Missouri town seemed perfect; she ran a hair salon, enjoyed a happy family life and lived in a beautiful home. Yet, she explains, “I have to say, I put on a hell of a performance. For a long time, I even had myself convinced of how good and right everything was in my life.” Her ideal was shattered in 1999 when Jantsen, her 15-year-old son, died suddenly from a heart ailment; this moving memoir recounts Cope's transformation and growth after her world collapsed. Her metamorphosis began after she accepted an invitation from a friend to visit Vietnam. Though Cope was wrapped in personal grief following the death of her son, the trip illuminated for her the superficial environment she inhabited. After visiting a local orphanage, Cope found for the first time in her life a sense of “wholeness and purpose.” Soon she stepped outside her own circumscribed world and began creating better lives for the abused, neglected and at-risk children she encountered, first in Vietnam then in Cambodia and Ghana. This is a wonderful story of a woman whose personal tragedy gave birth to a gift and how she fulfilled that legacy to make the world a better place. (Apr.)

Beaver, an actor, playwright and film historian, collects a series of riveting, heartfelt e-mails chronicling the courageous cancer battle of his beloved wife, Cecily, from her diagnosis of lung cancer to her death in little over a year. Unafraid to examine their life together and his acting career as a performer on two popular TV dramas, the role of Ellsworth on Deadwood and Bobby Singer on Supernatural, he kept family and friends informed with his nightly online messages of Cecily's deteriorating status and the bittersweet childhood of their autistic daughter, Maddie. The revealing e-mails depict the somber travail of Beaver on the horrific death watch of his wife, and detail the roller-coaster ride of emotion from hoping for a speedy halt to the disease's onslaught to experiencing the dark abyss of loss. After the death of his father during this time, he writes: “This year of writing has freed me from the shackles I don't know I could have borne otherwise.” While this cancer memoir often chills the reader to the core with pain and frustration, it offers countless reasons to cheer Beaver as a remarkable man, a loving husband and a responsible single parent. (Apr.)

Johnson met Ales, her “black-haired poet lover,” in Brooklyn in September 1991. Three weeks later, he called; they went to dinner and to bed. By Thanksgiving, he had “dumped” her, but they got back together and by 1993, he proposed and they married. The plot complication in this boy-meets-girl story is that she is an American investment analyst, and he's Slovenian, “the leading poet of his generation.” The title comes from a Slovene saying, roughly translated as “you always eat the bread that you've forbidden yourself.” Johnson will “leave everything—family, friends, country, job, language, income, independence”—and head for a world where “a bucolic and feudal society is colliding, on a rather delayed schedule, with the late twentieth century.” Her memoir functions as a love letter to her husband and an introduction to the Slovenian world, its language, social customs and tangled history (Slovenia, formerly part of Yugoslavia, officially became a nation-state in 1991). While sometimes self-absorbed, the author offers an intriguing story about the birth of a new state as well as the “series of coincidences, mishaps, and thunderbolts” that led from Brooklyn to Ljubljana. (Apr.)

Forbes lists Sirleaf, the 23rd president of Liberia and the first elected female president on the African continent, among the 100 Most Powerful Women in 2008. In and out of government, in and out of exile, but consistent in her commitment to Liberia, Sirleaf in her memoir reveals herself to be among the most resilient, determined and courageous as well. She writes with modesty in a calm and measured tone. While her account includes a happy childhood and an unhappy marriage, the book is politically, not personally, focused as she (and Liberia) go through the disastrous presidencies of Samuel Doe and Charles Taylor. Sirleaf's training as an economist and her employment (e.g., in banking, as minister of finance in Liberia, and in U.N. development programs) informs the perspective from which she views internal Liberian history (e.g., the tensions between the “settler class” and the indigenous people) and Liberia's international relations. Although her focus is thoroughly on Liberia, the content is more widely instructive, particularly her account of the role of the Economic Community of West African States. (Apr.)

A former stripper, Burana (Strip City) married a major in the U.S. Army and records, in this heartfelt though long-winded confessional, her attempts to render their two very different worlds compatible. Burana enjoyed a decidedly checkered past, from “accidental teenage communist” to peep-show girl and stripper in New York and San Francisco (she fondly recalls her Playboy shoot), before meeting “Major Mike” at a ceremony in a Brooklyn cemetery in 2000. She was attracted by his sense of order and honor, even charmed by his military jargon, while he admired her rebelliousness, though these same qualities would challenge their relationship over time. Living together in a condo near Fort Meade, Fla., where Mike was stationed, segued into a quick marriage (she called herself a “War on Terror” bride), before he was deployed to Iraq for six months in 2003, creating for her a painful personal trial of waiting and self-discipline. Their move to West Point underscored her new role as military wife, and she embarked on a gloomy, unstable period of psychological turmoil requiring therapy and medication for her own brand of post-traumatic stress disorder. Marriage counseling worked for them, bucking the high divorce rate within the armed forces, and Burana concludes her memoir on a positive note, having made peace with the army's fallibility and found her own place in it. (Apr.)

Readers dreaming of culinary school can indulge vicariously through this engaging memoir by food writer Darling. In her 20s, armed with a passion for cooking, the author left her job at a Manhattan literary agency to enroll at the French Culinary Institute. She takes what appears to be a day-by-day analysis of her entire six-month experience and extracts more narrative than might be thought possible, conveying the challenging process in episodes from omelet minutiae to the larger victories of culinary education. Darling makes the most of various incidents with her classmates who become competitors, comrades and co-conspirators—sometimes all three. As they progress together through the school's four levels to graduation, the author expands on their lessons with end-of-chapter recipes. Though the book doesn't stake out original territory, it thoroughly captures the built-in drama of a professional cook's education. (Apr.)

In this revealing collection of essays, 25 writers talk about their personal breastfeeding experiences. The beautifully written, heartbreaking first entry, “Breast-Laid Plans” by Heidi Raykeil is about how nursing her daughter for three and a half years helped her become whole again after the loss of her first-born child. In “Motherhood Made a Liar Out of Me,” Daryn Eller writes about feeling left out as the mother of an adopted, bottle-fed daughter and when asked in the playground if her child is weaned, she always answers “yes.” Dawn Porter's “In a Man's World” tackles the difficulties of pumping milk in the workplace, while Patricia Berry is clear on her decision in “Because I Don't Want To,” her husband and La Leche League be damned. The authors are all accomplished writers and their collected emotions and sentiments form a powerful and informative commentary on this most loaded of parenting topics that will especially resonate with anyone who has raised a child. (Apr.)

When criminal defense attorney Trupp leaves her home and her three daughters each morning for work in New York City, she trades one set of important demands (“marshmallows for breakfast”) for the demands of her clients, most of whom are convicted murderers or rapists. This memoir is Trupp's explanation to her daughters: “why I choose to walk out the door each morning, despite their frequent pleas that I stay home,” in order to step into the high-pressure environment of a courtroom, visiting prisons or even risking danger in the apartments of possible suspects. Trupp expertly reaches out to every working mother as she describes her day-to-day challenge of being in two places at once, struggles to keep up her pre-children physical appearance and relates a depressing experience at American Girl Place with her daughter where Trupp yearns for the simpler “quality time” that she spent with her own mother waiting in gas lines or running errands. This brashly frank memoir is packed with minute details of her work that will enthrall fans of legal thrillers, but may not hold the attention of readers who are simply looking for the story of how one woman balances family, hard work and having a quiet moment to herself. (Apr.)

Given that it's written by one of the sport's premier chroniclers and is set mostly in and around the bucolic grounds of Southern Pines, N.C.—a resort town based mostly on the pursuit of golfing—there is surprisingly little golf in this homey memoir, though that's probably for the best. Dodson (Ben Hogan; Final Rounds) recounts how he was gripped by a midlife crisis after a shakeup at his magazine and the deaths of several close friends and family members. These events, plus a desire to give his son the same memories of golf that his father imparted to him, sent the Maine journalist scampering back to his Southern childhood home. Although Dodson knows perfectly well that possibly uprooting his whole family is little more than indulging a “chance to live out a boyhood fantasy” of being a smalltown newspaper man, he makes the idea as appealing as possible. There is not much forward momentum in this excessively ambling and self-satisfied work, and it suffers from Dodson's tendency to record conversations with a level of detail that sometimes strains credibility. However, it's all painted in a glossy, buttery hue of such fine vintage nostalgia that it's all the reader can do by the end to not immediately light out for the central North Carolina hill country. (Apr.)

Morris (But Didn't We Have Fun?) offers a thorough look at the evolution of the catcher from the 1870s—when the position “became the ultimate example of the American ideal of the rugged individualist”—to the early 1900s. Indeed, the position was not for the timid. Early catchers dealt with pitches and foul tips without the benefit of today's fancy protection, just a pair of gnarled hands and tons of grit. However, as baseball's rules changed and equipment such as chest protectors and mitts became part of the catcher's uniform, public opinion plummeted. Additional changes in the game saw the catcher valued again in the early 20th century, this time for his intelligence as he “didn't need to endure pain to become a hero.” Morris's superlative research and keen observation never leads to dry or academic writing. He has produced a fascinating merger of social and baseball history, taking an almost irrelevant subject and filling it with color—thanks to the generous use of old newspaper accounts—and stirring profiles of long-forgotten players who were daring, deranged or both. (Apr.)

Though it will probably be shelved in either the sports or outdoors section, Kinney's account would be right at home in the anthropology department. As Kinney, a Philadelphia journalist, explains in his fun, easygoing prose, the Martha's Vineyard Striped Bass and Bluefish Derby is more than just your run-of-the-mill fishing tournament. The monthlong competition and two grand prizes worth $30,000 each turn visitors and islanders into work-skipping, bleary-eyed (big stripers feed at night) fishing maniacs. Kinney provides an insider's view of striper madness by not only presenting the fish tales of Derby judges, experts and salty regulars, but by also wetting a line and participating. He discovers that what started in 1946 as an “advertising scheme” to get visitors to the island has become symbolic of Martha's Vineyard's continuing personality crisis between its blue collar, commercial fishing roots and its newer, wealthy persona. The book is a lot of fun as Kinney's day-in, day-out descriptions of the tournament itself—complete with accusations of cheating, bitter rivalries, health concerns and Cinderella stories—play out like a frenzied baseball season condensed into one month of triple-headers. (Apr.)

Mercer (Footprints: The Life and Work of Wayne Shorter) covers the “iconic folk maiden” Joni Mitchell during her “Blue” period (roughly 1971 to '76) in what is part music criticism. The book covers the origin and meaning of Blue's songs in Mitchell's own words, her childhood and how her relationships with Graham Nash, Leonard Cohen and James Taylor shaped her music. As her first husband, Chuck Mitchell, said, “There are a couple Joans... the literal girl, the prairie tomboy... the historical person, the narrative writer, and the queen”—and this book reveals a bit of each of them. Written from a fan's perspective, this book is partly Mercer's own diary, the way Blue was partly Mitchell's diary. This is Mercer's love song to Mitchell, which aims it sometimes to an audience already well-versed in Mitchell history and lore. Whether new or old fans of Joni Mitchell, readers can appreciate the extensive research, and much of the book is in Mitchell's own words, including an entire chapter on her favorite things. (Apr.)

When a celebrity not only refuses to cooperate with a would-be biographer but persuades most of his inner circle not to grant interviews either, the writer's task is much more daunting. In trying to account for the 40-year career of eccentric singer/songwriter (and occasional film actor) Tom Waits, Hoskyns (Hotel California) puts his subject's reluctance front and center, openly speculating on the rumors that Waits's wife has engineered his withdrawal from his early associates. The armchair psychology extends to Waits's idiosyncratic public persona, but is buttressed with interviews with as many people as Hoskyns could get to talk, a few conversations he had with Waits for magazine pieces and excerpts from other articles over the years. For the most part, Waits's musical transformation from hip troubadour to far-out maverick is well contextualized, but when Hoskyns's resources are stretched thin in this overlong book, his pronouncements become less compelling. Readers may not particularly care what the biographer thinks of Waits's last album, for example, nor need a complete set list from a random concert. Despite these problems, however, Hoskyns deserves credit for trying to give Waits the critical scrutiny his work deserves. (Apr. 14)

Financial Times world trade editor Beattie combines economic history, psychology and political analysis to identify the factors that predispose economies to sickness or health. The author takes a human interest, Freakonomics-style approach to such economic riddles as why Islamic nations stay mired in poverty (he argues that one reason might be the Qur'an's dictum against usury and interest-earning) and why Africa is dependent on exporting raw materials rather than commercial products (soaring temperatures and shoddy infrastructure). Beattie imbues economics with wonderful mystery as he untangles the mechanisms of the blood diamond trade and Peru's curious stranglehold on the global export of asparagus. Closer to home, Beattie examines the economic rivalry between Argentina and the United States a century ago; when Argentina seemed to be winning, the U.S. made a series of crucial decisions, moved forward and left Argentina poised for financial disaster. Thorough research, eclectic examples and a sprightly tone (“Puritans were not big on bling”) should make this a hit among those interested in world economics—and a must-read alternative for those who couldn't get through Guns, Germs and Steel. (Apr.)

Allawi (The Occupation of Iraq), former minister of defense and minister of finance in Iraq's postwar governments, offers his version of the causes and consequences of the “decline” of Islamic civilization and proposals for its rejuvenation. The author argues that the West's violent encroachment on the Muslim world in the 19th and 20th centuries shattered local institutions and economies and disrupted any natural evolution of Islamic society; furthermore, current efforts to “modernize” the faith amount to draping an entire civilization in ill-fitting, inorganic ideas. Allawi calls for a return to the creative and artistic heritage of Islam and a restoration of balance—“between the physical and the spiritual... between men and women; between rights and duties”—while suggesting that the time to find balance may soon run out. The writing is erudite and the conclusions fascinating, but Allawi's dismissive attitude toward Western societies and their “mass rejection... of the cardinal virtues, not least wisdom and moderation,” as well as a reluctance to accommodate anything other than a faith-based understanding of human reality might limit his audience. (Apr.)

Two years ago, British fashion designer Anna Hindmarch produced the must-have accessory of the season: a bleached, organic cotton tote manufactured in fair-wage factories, subsidized with carbon offsets and emblazoned with the slogan, “I'm NOT a plastic bag.” But according to Goleman (Emotional Intelligence), the people who bought the bag were advertising their ecological ignorance, not their consciousness. In this thorough examination of the inconsistencies and delusions at the core of the “going green effort,” the author argues that consumers are “collective victims of a sleight of hand,” helplessly unaware of the true provenance and impact of the products they purchase: they reassure themselves by buying “environmentally friendly” tote bags that, upon ecological assessment, reveal some uncomfortable facts, e.g., 10,000 liters of water were required to grow the cotton for one bag, and cotton crops alone account for the use of about 10% of the world's pesticides. Goleman's critiques are scathing, but his conclusion is heartening: a new generation of industrial ecologists is mapping the exact impact of every production process, which could challenge consumers to change their behavior in substance rather than just show. (Apr.)

Ostensibly meant to offer life lessons for horse owners, this book delivers, instead, a rather New Age blend of personal experiences and observations from Pike (Pathway to a Radiant Soul), life coach and founder of the “Mind Body Method.” Though the title might lead readers to expect lively and varied stories of human/horse interaction, Pike offers tediously similar tales of deep connection and understanding between horse and rider, including how to achieve a respectful relationship with a fierce-spirited mustang. Readers learn that horses are sentient beings, capable of diagnosing emotional and physical illness, and choosing their own partners for lessons. Horses can also influence chakras and communicate telepathically. In the last pages, Pike gets to the instructions, too little, too late. (Apr.)

With her appearance in The Secret, San Diego–based Nichols is now a star life coach and motivational speaker. In this candid, inspirational book, she crafts a program to guide people to more fulfilled, happy and purposeful lives, illustrating each chapter with her own remarkable story, which she adeptly turns into motivational jewels. From a troubled childhood—she was molested and had difficulty as a black student at a mostly white school—to teen years as a star athlete who lacked self-esteem, dead-end jobs and an abusive relationship and finally success, Nichols has gone through both the highs and lows of life. Her message is simple and follows The Secret's Law of Attraction. But this book is about the Law of No Matter What: no matter what happens or what people say, you must commit to taking action: “I will do what I need to do.” And if you stumble along the way, you need “bounce-back muscles.” Each of nine chapters explores a different “muscle” (faith in yourself, honesty, say yes, etc.). Nichols's infectious enthusiasm and compassion shine from each page. (Apr. 13)