Nonfiction

In this entertaining and insightful book, New York Times science writer Yoon sets out to document the progression of the scientific “quest to order and name the entire living world—the whole squawking, scuttling, blooming, twining, leafy, furry, green and wondrous mess of it” from Linnaeus to present-day taxonomists. But her initial assumption of science as the ultimate authority is sideswiped by her growing interest in umwelt, how animals perceive the world in a way “idiosyncratic to each species, fueled by its particular sensory and cognitive powers and limited by its deficits.” According to Yoon, Linnaeus was an umwelt prodigy, but as taxonomists began to abandon the senses and use microscopic evidence and DNA to trace evolutionary relations, nonscientists' gave up their brain-given right (and tendency) to order the living world, with the devastating result of becoming indifferent to the current mass extinctions. Yoon's invitation for laypeople to reclaim their umwelt, to “take one step closer to the living world” and accept as valid the “wondrous variety in the ordering of life,” is optimistic, exhilarating and revolutionary. (Aug.)

Journalist Kilborn expands on his 2005 New York Times profile of the “relos,” rootless, upper-middle-class, mid-level executives, “an affluent, hard-striving class” who follow the money “as they migrate through the suburbs of Atlanta and Dallas and the expatriate villages of Beijing and Bombay.” Kilborn explores “relovilles” like West Plano and Flower Mound, Tex., examining their curious, portable and insular culture, surveying the ad hoc “relo economy” that aids the perpetually transient relos. A skillful storyteller, Kilborn captures the costs and loneliness of the relo lifestyle without judging his subjects' choices. Kilborn began research for this book in 2005, when many large corporations responsible for relocating the relos were in such different economic circumstances; as a result, his story feels unfinished. He notes that the national free fall in housing prices has made relos less mobile and that some upper management positions have been eliminated, but fails to mention what kind of effect the economic downturn has had on his subjects' tendency toward conspicuous consumption and what will happen to the ghost towns and ghost strip malls they leave behind as they begin to curb their spending. Photos. (July)

Rich, the author of The Red Devil: To Hell with Cancer—and Back, recounts in this wonderful memoir her subsequent life's journey: immersing herself in the transformative complexities of learning Hindi. Fired from her New York City magazine job, palpating the possibility of being a full-time writer and tempted by the “foolproof out” that was traveling to India, Rich ensconced herself in a yearlong language program in Udaipur, in the northwest state of Rajasthan, where with three other students she struggled to get her brain, and tongue, around the disorienting “monsoon of words” in the total immersion program. A delicate balance of social graces determined success or failure, as the author learned painfully when she felt compelled to relocate from the home of her host family, an extended Jain clan, because of misunderstanding over her nonmarried status. Fluidly interspersed within her witty, tongue-in-cheek account of the nutty fellow students and nosy, however well-meaning, Indian spectators are comments and elucidation on second-language acquisition from experts, and observations while visiting a school for the deaf. Homesick, rattled by the violence, Rich nonetheless arrived at making jokes and actually dreaming in Hindi, and in her deft and spirited prose depicts being literally “possessed by words.” (July)

Taylor—director of the 2007 documentary Zizek!—takes philosophy out of the academy and restores it to its peripatetic origins by allowing the field's brightest minds to publicly ruminate on such classic themes as truth and ethics. A companion to her 2008 documentary of the same name, the book cannot convey the film's visual surprises—e.g., watching Slavoj Zizek discuss ecology in the middle of a London garbage dump and Peter Singer musing on consumerism in Times Square—but where the film winnowed 90-minute interviews into 10 minutes of conversation, the book contains the complete conversations: Kwame Anthony Appiah expounds on cosmopolitanism in an airport; Martha Nussbaum ponders justice; Cornel West hitches a ride with Taylor through Manhattan and delivers an electrifying discussion on his philosophy of the blues. The subjects are unfailingly erudite, charismatic and surprisingly funny (Zizek, in particular, delights in needling Taylor for her “liberal, vegan, hippie” tendencies). It is regrettable that Taylor does not challenge her subjects more—she is too often the earnest and assenting graduate student—but she shines in her introduction, which is both apologia and agenda for philosophy's future. (July)

One of the most enduring American pop music crooners, Damone, writing with Chanoff, tells his story in this straightforward, honest memoir by an ambitious boy from a middle-class Brooklyn Italian family, rising to fame on hit charts over a 60-year career. In his foreword, CNN talk host Larry King writes, “With a little better luck Vic would have classed right with Frank Sinatra. At that he is probably regarded one rung below, but it is a very short rung.” As Damone tells it, he experienced it all—he was a babe magnet with the creamy voice; a one-time Paramount usher, he had his life saved by Frank Sinatra; he dated Ava Gardner and Liz Taylor and married the beautiful actress Pier Angeli; he starred in several films, all this between gigs at Ciro's, Mogambo, the Copa and Vegas. Highlights of this celeb-laden book include dealing with a bigot in defense of boxing champ Sugar Ray Robinson, having mob chieftain Frank Costello save his life against a hateful capo and marrying singer Diahann Carroll. With many dramatic moments, this memoir—complete with bold-faced names and mob stories—makes for a delightful summer read. (June)

In her second memoir (after Riding the Bus with My Sister), Simon writes about her relationship with her husband, Hal. The two married after 19 years together (including a breakup and reunion) and moved into Hal's historic row house in Wilmington, Del. When the house is burglarized, the couple consider moving, but decide to renovate instead, both to save money and give Hal, an architect, the opportunity to design their abode. The decision, Simon writes, “will blow open the tight seal around everything I think I know about myself, about family, about the misunderstandings and resilience of love.” It makes for an intriguing narrative, punctuated by musings on everything from quitting to the definition of design to her life as a writer and public speaker. In this inspirational book, readers who have completed or are contemplating remodeling will empathize with Simon's frustration-induced fits of pique or the couple's rush of gratitude for a lovely home. (June)

After the birth of his first child, bestselling writer Lewis (Moneyball) felt he was a stranger in a strange land, puzzled at the gap between what he thought he should be feeling and what he actually felt. While he expected to be overcome by joy, he often felt puzzled; expecting to feel worried over a child's illness or behavior, he often felt indifferent. Lewis attempts to capture the triumphs, failures, humor, frustration and exhilaration of being a new father during the first year of each of his three children's lives. In one especially hilarious moment, Lewis is in a hotel pool in Bermuda distantly observing his children. When some older boys start teasing his oldest daughter, the youngest daughter, three years old at the time, lets fly a string of profanities at the top of her lungs. The boys retreat and then regroup for a second attack; when they return, she lets fly another string and tells them that she has peed in the pool, causing the boys to go away. All the while, Lewis watches from afar, too embarrassed to claim this youngster as his own but also proud that she has handled herself so smartly. Although Lewis is correct that his fatherhood moments might be more interesting to him than to anyone else, his reflections capture both the unease and the excitement that fatherhood brings. (June)

Lehmann-Haupt, executive editor of Plum magazine and daughter of author and New York Times writer Christopher, entered her 30s feeling optimistic and in control. The accomplished journalist and world traveler had a great boyfriend, too—and fully expected to achieve her next goal: motherhood. When the relationship didn't work out, the author began to wonder if the love-marriage-baby sequence might not happen for her. Like countless 30-something American women, she didn't worry about her fertility during her 20s and 30s, thanks to advances in feminism and medical technology that have given women more options—and the feeling that the so-called biological clock moves more slowly now. Lehmann-Haupt does an excellent job chronicling the societal and medical trends that have influenced modern motherhood. She also describes her pursuit of a romance that will lead to marriage and family, and the choices she makes in an effort to give herself more options. A mix of science, statistics, interviews and personal narrative form this valuable guidebook. It also serves as a compelling reality check as she lists various statistics: women over 35 suffer higher rates of miscarriage; 50,000 children are born to single mothers each year; a third of these mothers choose to become pregnant on their own. In this informative and frank book, Lehmann-Haupt makes a compelling case for education and preparation: “We have more options than ever; understanding them can empower us and, perhaps most importantly, turn panic into peace.” (June)

“I have never quite been reconciled to the Dodgers' being taken from me,” admits freelance writer Murphy, who grew up within walking distance of Ebbets Field and still lives in Brooklyn. He is able to put his feelings aside, however, in this objective reappraisal of the sequence of events that led Walter O'Malley (who “[left] Brooklyn a rich man and a despised man”) to take his team to Los Angeles—while, at the other end of New York City, Giants owner Horace Stoneham was making his own plans to leave town. Murphy is particularly eager to restore the reputation of Robert Moses, who has been accused of squeezing the Dodgers out. The city planner did offer solutions that could have kept the team in Brooklyn, Murphy reports, but the sites where O'Malley wanted to build his own stadium weren't zoned for that purpose. The Giants' story, though it runs concurrently, is much less dramatic; Murphy's most significant accomplishment lies in breaking down the nostalgic myths and sorting through the historical archives to get the real story behind the transformation of New York's baseball landscape. (June)

In this stirring, frank account, Jaber, a Lebanese-British foreign correspondent depicts her professional work covering the Gulf War and her personal engagement with an Iraqi family caught tragically in the crossfire. Reporting for London's Sunday Times on the American invasion of Iraq in 2003, Jaber, accompanied by her British photographer husband, Steve Bent, took up the cause of numerous hospitalized children grievously wounded in the bombing and helped start a fund to provide them with better medical attention and supplies. In particular, Jaber learned the extraordinary story of two orphans, the only survivors in a family of seven children who had been engulfed in the firestorm with their parents while fleeing their Baghdad neighborhood in April 2003. Three-year-old Zahra was burned over most of her body and in dire need of sophisticated emergency attention, while her baby sister, Hawra, tossed from a car window, survived unscathed. Jaber, with the help of young American journalist Marla Ruzicka (who eventually died in a car bombing), was able to get Zahra airlifted out, though she later died in an American military hospital. Jaber felt keenly for these orphans, as she had endured years of personal turmoil attempting to get pregnant in her marriage, and she proposed to the girls' grandmother that she adopt them. Jaber demonstrates in this affecting work how she employed her professional passion to aid Iraq's war victims. (June)

Vanity Fair contributing editor Seal expands on his August 2006 article for the magazine in this sweeping and atmospheric biography of the conservationist and wildlife filmmaker Joan Root, who was brutally murdered in her home on Lake Naivasha, Kenya, a region she was trying to save from poachers and environmental ruin. Intrigued by Root's suspicious death and cinematic life with husband and nature documentarian Alan Root, Seal mines Joan's diaries and writings to offer a lush love story set in the heyday of British colonialism in Nairobi, where amid the decadence and dilettantism, Alan fell in love with the lovely Joan Thorpe, an “Ingrid Bergman lookalike” and daughter of an English adventurer. Their partnership produced award-winning documentaries (their 1978 film on termite mounds, Mysterious Castles of Clay, was narrated by Orson Welles and nominated for an Oscar) and television specials. Their inability to have children was a source of constant sorrow for the couple, and despite the romance of their joint pursuits, their marriage unraveled. Seal's effort is a seamless story redolent with adventure, passion and heartbreak; its beauty nearly eclipses the tragedy of Root's untimely—and unsolved—death in 2006. Photos. (June)

In this gritty ethnography exploring the world of San Francisco's homeless heroin addicts, Bourgois, anthropology and community medicine professor at the University of Pennsylvania, and Schonberg, a photographer and graduate student in medical anthropology, draw on a decade immersed in this subculture to eloquently elaborate on the survival techniques and intimate lives of black and white addicts who live in self-made communities and work the economic fringes for survival. The authors explore racial boundaries and crossings, love stories, family relations, parenting, histories of childhood abuse, as well as the constant work of navigating hostile police enforcement, exploitative and helpful business owners, overburdened medical services and social service bureaucracies. The book details the gruesome material toll of addiction, infection and homelessness and the risks of ongoing personal and institutional violence. Bourgois and Schonberg create a deeply nuanced picture of a population that cannot escape social reprobation, but deserves social inclusion. Schonberg's photographs capture the scars of addiction, the social bonds between romantic pairs and drug-running partners and the concerted efforts at domesticity without a domicile. The collage of case studies, field notes, personal narratives and photography is nothing short of enthralling. (June)

The acclaimed Uruguayan writer Galeano offers another striking but hard to classify work—except in relation to his own oeuvre: this book being something like a companion piece to Book of Embraces or his three-volume Memory of Fire. In pithy retellings of creation myths and reflections on history, he uses the past to comment on the present: juxtaposing the origin of the Hindu caste system and the “untouchable” class, whose members were responsible for cleaning up the wreckage of the 2004 tsunami, revealing how the casualties of the invasion of Iraq were not only human but memory itself, embodied by the destruction of priceless artifacts from the birthplace of writing. These vignettes embrace the exalted and the humble, and consistently privilege the narratives of the dispossessed—indigenous people, women and accounts from the global south. Across disparate civilizations and centuries—but always with an unflinching eye (and irony) trained on the present—Galeano's stories register the imaginations of our mythmaking species, the elaborate gestures of (gendered) forms of power and the spirit of rebellion and resilience that fires the underdog masses. (June)

In his unfocused history of crime-ridden Los Angeles in the 1920s, nonfiction writer and novelist Rayner (The Associates) touches on too many scandals—and scandalous characters—to make his account coherent. Leslie White, the young and idealistic DA's investigator (and, later, pulp fiction writer) seems like the only honest man in town, especially compared with the likes of promising prosecutor-turned-murder-suspect Dave Clark. Before the Depression hit, L.A. was swimming in wealth, not only from the burgeoning Hollywood studios but also from the oil boom. White saw firsthand how deep the city's corruption ran, from organized crime boss Charlie Crawford's “System,” whose tentacles reached the highest echelons of politics and law enforcement, to the press, always ravenous for another sensational story, a “circulation-boosting crusade.” Crawford's brutal murder in 1931 and star prosecutor Clark's emergence as the prime suspect is only one of the tales Rayner touches on in his chaotic chronicle of the city. Despite cameos by familiar faces—including noir master Raymond Chandler—readers may be overwhelmed by the onslaught of details, intriguing as they might be. (June 23)

This book is for everyone who's ever wondered how something gets into the air, stays there and lands safely. A close look at the aerodynamics of wings introduces the basic concepts of lift, thrust, drag and weight, the basic forces that affect flight. While the principles don't differ between animals and machines, design and purpose do. Bird and insect wings have evolved to provide lift and maneuverability, ward off predators and attract mates. Manmade flyers, on the other hand—even sailplanes—require a separate means of thrust to create lift. Alexander, who teaches biology at the University of Kansas and studies biomechanics, explains how birds and machines hover; how rotary plane and jet engines work; what keeps airplanes, with their rigid wings, stable in the air; and how various tools help pilots fly “blind.” Sections on flying predators and aerial combat, as well as human-powered flight, are especially interesting. Extensive references, a glossary and suggested reading should give even novices a good understanding of flight and how it works. B&w illus. (June)

This is a thoughtful history of two successful counterinsurgency campaigns (the Philippines after 1898 and Malaya 1948–1960) and two failures (Algeria 1954–1962 and Vietnam). According to Arnold (Tet Offensive 1968), in the Philippines, the entire U.S. army of 70,000 spent a decade brutally suppressing a poorly equipped, almost leaderless rebellion. The British campaign in Malaya enjoyed the priceless advantage that the insurgents were Chinese, a minority and traditionally hated by the majority Malays. Despite this, victory took 12 bloody years. French forces had overwhelmed Algerian rebels when French President De Gaulle ordered a withdrawal, having decided the political cost of remaining in a hostile country was too great. And American troops in Vietnam killed so many Vietcong that North Vietnamese troops took over most of the fighting, but the civilians never trusted the government to protect them—and all insurgencies feed off this failure, notes Arnold. The author makes a convincing case that killing insurgents never defeats an insurgency. That happens when a nation's population feels safe, a painful lesson that America is relearning the hard way in Iraq and Afghanistan. B&w illus. (June)

This pensive study explores work not as an economic or sociological phenomenon but as an existential predicament. Observing an eclectic sample of workers, from fishermen to a CEO of an accounting firm, de Botton (How Proust Can Change Your Life) counterposes “the expansive intelligence” embodied in vast business organizations with the blinkered routines of their human cogs and finds that tension rife with philosophical conundrums. Cookie marketers illustrate the link between happiness and triviality in bourgeois society; office drones wear “a mask of shallow cheerfulness” over “the fury and sadness continually aroused by their colleagues”; a visit to a satellite launch center contrasts the restrained self-effacement of rocket scientists with their power to “upstage the gods” during fiery blastoffs. De Botton's humanism recoils at the banality, crassness and forced optimism of the business mindset, but he admires its ability to construct the world—and even finds poetry in a supermarket supply chain that flies “blood-red strawberries... over the Arctic Circle by moonlight, leaving a trail of nitrous oxide across a black and gold sky.” (The book includes evocative photos of commercial and industrial sites.) De Botton's sprightly mix of reportage and rumination expands beyond the workplace to investigate the broader meaning of life. (June 2)

Enjoy this bracing tour through “the history, horror, and headaches” of clinical trials, described by a guide with both a detached delivery and knowledgeable perspective. Former Newsday and Baltimore Sun reporter O'Meara, a Type I diabetic, signed up for a trial offering a possible cure, so he may be more than a little invested in how trials work. But his self-interest is a compelling element as he surveys a $24-billion-a-year industry that affects the lives of 20 million Americans. His investigation briskly sails through the interests that spark clinical trials, the money that pays for them and the “bonanza of cash and/or equipment and medications” for developing countries where researchers find it cheaper to recruit trial subjects. Best and most sweetly, however, the book delves into the human guinea pigs, such as gene therapy trial participant whose death raised questions about government oversight and the self-interest of the lead researcher. O'Meara presents lessons from a medical front that offers something more important than success or failure—hope. “I'm still able to say, 'At least I tried.'” O'Meara notes. (June)

Martin's control of his prodigious material in this first authorized biography of the great Colombian novelist García Márquez is astonishing. Martin (Journeys Through the Labyrinth) writes with a novelist's momentum. His descriptions of García Márquez's hometown, Aracataca (fictionalized as Macondo in One Hundred Years of Solitude), are atmospheric without being cloying; he conducts literary exegesis deftly, like a detective hunting for clues. From isolated youth to shabby college man in thrall to Kafka and Woolf, the “sexual reprobate” and the Nobel Prize laureate, grounded by his marriage and community of fellow writers and friends, and by turns publicly aloof and loquacious, García Márquez seems to be many different men, but his biographer handles the contradictions with finesse. Almost entirely laudatory, the biography addresses the controversies—which generally orbit the politicized García Márquez —gingerly if at all, and renders his off-putting traits endearing. Martin has come to praise García Márquez—whom he regards as the one writer who has been as artistically influential as the early modernists (in pioneering magical realism, now a staple in fiction from the developing world) and positively Dickensian in his popular appeal. 16 pages of photos, 3 maps. (May 20)

Shadi Ghadirian is one of Iran's most prominent contemporary photographers, and one of its few renowned female photographers. This introductory monograph includes images from five of her thought-provoking and visually captivating series on Iranian female identity. The collection opens with her Untitled Qajar series from the late '90s, described by Ghadirian as depicting women's acts “of rebellion, of subtlety, of changes foreseen.” The images portray her sisters, friends and neighbors dressed and photographed in the style of women of the 19th-century Qajar court yet holding 20th-century objects: a can of Pepsi, a boom box, a vacuum cleaner. Ghadirian's dramatic Like Every Day series follows: the women, dressed in vibrant chadors, appear as faceless subjects whose identity has become a domestic object: in place of one's face is a teapot, in place of another's, a frying pan. A powerful array of images, as intellectually stimulating as they are aesthetically stunning, illustrating how boldly photography can grapple with issues of gender and national identity, preceded by an illuminating and highly informative introductory essay by curator Issa. (May)

The former editor for the alternative weekly Dallas Observer, Lyons writes about her membership of nearly two decades in a poor South Dallas African-American Pentecostal church, the Body of Christ Assembly. Though she found the church as a reporter in search of a story about supernatural healing from crack cocaine addiction, she arrived a fully formed believer in search of her own healing from her attraction to women and her depression. The book tracks the lives of the founding pastor, Fredrick Eddington Sr., a onetime drug addict with schizophrenic tendencies who overcame his problems through faith, and his wife and co-pastor, Diane, a legally blind, captious woman for whom life is a tightrope between holiness and hell. Lyons writes searing and sympathetic portraits of the down-and-out black residents of South Dallas. But this slim memoir is short on historical, political and economic analysis and long on descriptions of moral sins, from the sexual to the selfish. The book's overwhelming emphasis on “deliverance” often runs up against the realities of poverty and exploitation. Lyons briefly acknowledges this during a church mission trip to Botswana, but never fully examines it. Readers looking for an intimate peek at black Pentecostal religiosity, in its successes and shortcomings, will appreciate the book. (June 16)

Baumbich, an award-winning journalist and author of the Dearest Dorothy fiction series, has set out to accomplish what few Christian humorists have succeeded in achieving: making her readers laugh deep from the belly while simultaneously trouncing on their faulty “religious” beliefs. Baumbich's writing style is such that readers will feel as though she's conversing with herself and they are her most fortunate eavesdropping audience. The author's comic rehashing of life's more ironic and bizarre happenings will be valued by readers of both genders. Baumbich encourages her fans to create their own memory portfolios of treasured moments to see God's bounty at every turn (or detour). Readers are also treated to poignant essays on the power of imagination, the importance of questioning assumptions, awakening every sense, living in a balanced way or falling with a splat. Baumbich's text is just what the doctor ordered for a time such as this; laughter is good medicine indeed and there are plenty of guffaws to be found on every page. (June)

Although a concern with poverty is writ large in the New Testament, scholars have paid scant attention to the ways in which early Christian writers addressed economic inequities in the first four centuries of the Common Era. Combining a passion for social justice with lucid exegesis of patristic authors like Gregory of Nazianzus, Gregory of Nyssa, John Chrysostom, and Basil of Caesarea, Holman (The Hungry Are Dying: Beggars and Bishops in Roman Cappadocia) demonstrates that the poor have always been with us and that the church has devised strategies for taking care of them. Holman argues that these writers engaged a response to poverty that involved sensing the needs of the poor; sharing the world with these poor in ways such as, but not limited to, giving alms; and embodying the sacred kingdom, or bringing the brokenness of the impoverished bodies into the body of Christ. For example, the famine that struck Cappadocia in 368–369 left many homeless, ragged and hungry. Gregory of Nazianzus responded by exhorting Christians that these disfigured persons are “part of you, even if they are bent down with misfortune.” Holman helpfully offers fresh insights into the ways that church history can illuminate social activism. (June)

Schachter-Shalomi, founder of the neo-Hasidic Jewish Renewal movement, and Miles-Yepez, his cofounder of the Sufi-Hasidic Inyati Maimuni Tariqat, a Jewish order of Sufis, have woven an engrossing and soulful reflection, rife with illustrative stories and accompanying explanations, on the Hasidic masters of 17th-, 18th- and 19th-century Europe. The flowing, almost conversational tone is intended for a larger, less traditional audience; the authors seek to engage the spectrum of Jews as well as non-Jews in discovery of the presence of God. To that end, they freely incorporate parallel Hindu, Buddhist and Sufi narratives and traditions. The authors bring to life anecdotes describing the lives and teachings of the various ba'alei shem (men of great name) and those closest to them, and especially that of the most famous, Yisra'el ben Eliezer, better known as the Ba'al Shem Tov, whose legacy inspires Hasidim to this day. This collaboration will delight readers of all backgrounds who are searching for a spirited and spiritual perspective on Hasidic evolution and lore. (June)

Forget political correctness and timidity. Through this gritty, didactic countdown, author Driscoll answers sensitive questions Christians may be afraid to ask. Pastor of the Mars Hill megachurch in Seattle, Driscoll (Vintage Jesus) asked his congregation to submit their burning questions online. After they submitted and voted on 893 questions, Driscoll answers the top nine in the nine chapters of this book. From worship styles to explicit discussions of sex and birth control, the topics represent timely questions with which real people struggle. Driscoll includes quotations, stunning statistics, endnotes and footnoted verse numbers as evidence. Historical context and pop-culture references help to further clarify the more complicated explanations. When handling controversial topics, Driscoll sometimes employs a crass, mocking humor. Though this humor accomplishes its goal of being “arresting and difficult to ignore,” it may alienate the very readers from other denominations, religions and sexual orientations Driscoll hopes to rebuke and reconcile. Some questions have only idealistic, black and white answers (don't have sex until you're married). In other instances, such as birth control, he presents the arguments and leaves gray areas the reader may resolve as “their conscience permits.” On the whole, Driscoll is strong medicine. (June 30)

Sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll and... religion? Former record executive Mansfield (The White Book) looks back on his life during a road trip from the vantage point of one who has seen it all and then found God. The open road is an apt and common metaphor for the spiritual life, but this travelogue never really connects the dots. Why does the author take the trip? What does he hope to find? Is he attempting to exorcise past demons, or beg forgiveness for enjoying the excesses of life in the music business? All of these are themes the author flirts with but never embraces. Mansfield's prayerful musings, however, are quite extraordinary. These spirituality-infused moments are the most poignant of the book, although they make strange bedfellows with accounts of hanging out with Ringo Starr, Dolly Parton and Lou Rawls. While the book is a bit disjointed, the brief forays into prayer along with the exciting stories of the music business in the '60s and '70s make this a welcome addition to the spirituality shelf. (June 9)

It seems hard to believe that anyone would want to take on Pastor Rick Warren and his “purpose-driven life” agenda, but Ellingsen, associate professor of church history at the Interdenominational Theological Center in Atlanta does just that in this brief but persuasive volume. Steeped in the pietistic leanings of American religion, Warren, the author insists, has promoted an agenda that focuses too much on personal development and not enough on the larger issue of man's utter sinfulness. Can a Christian separate his sinful condition from the works that he does? Luther, and Paul the apostle, would insist that while every bit of our lives is sinful and needs to be redeemed, we can overcome “the tension... between being 100 percent a sinner and 100 percent a fully forgiven saint of God.” The author convincingly and passionately argues that Warren's emphasis on personal transformation is indicative of the narcissism of the early Puritan divines from whom Warren draws his inspiration. Instead, Christians should be in the business of transforming society, not merely themselves. (May)

In this remarkable narrative, author and religious studies professor Katz chronicles his seemingly contradictory achievement of expertise on Eastern religions and his membership in Miami Beach's Orthodox Jewish community, where he attends synagogue every morning and is a pious practitioner of Judaism. He started his journey in Camden, N.J., growing up in a “lukewarm” Conservative Jewish family and learning to love jazz. Fascinated by India as a youngster, Katz made his first trip there at the age of 20. On numerous subsequent occasions, he extensively visited India, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Tibet, Afghanistan and Israel, learning from gurus, swamis, rabbis, imams, and becoming friendly with the Dalai Lama. He taught at Naropa University in Boulder, Colo., Williams College, the University of South Florida and Florida International University, where he is now chairman of religious studies. Along the way, Katz embraced Jewish mysticism and Jewish spirituality, while maintaining his connection to Hinduism and Buddhism. How he achieved and maintains these varied associations is explained in this fascinating memoir. (May 4)

As head of a foundation for relief and peacemaking and vicar of an Anglican church in Baghdad, White has gained the ear of major power brokers, negotiated hostage releases and coordinated interreligious dialogue in the Middle East. Yet his memoir does not fit neatly into the canon of peacemaking literature, in part because he sees no problem with aligning closely with the U.S. military and accepting Pentagon funds for his interfaith peace summits. “Peacemaking of the old woolly-liberal kind no longer works, if it ever did,” he writes, and criticizes “bottom-up” approaches to reconciliation as ineffective in the Middle East. White's most controversial claim—that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction—goes unsupported, and some will find his support for the U.S. invasion ironic, inasmuch as it exists alongside interreligious statements that he helped to broker proclaiming a “total rejection of all violence.” White's stories of finding common ground between enemies and his commitment to finding out how religion can “advise, rather than supervise, politics” are truly admirable, however, and not lost entirely amid the book's other, more self-serving assertions. (May)

Drawing on his background in theology, world religions, art history, psychology and mythology, author and psychotherapist Moore (Care of the Soul) proposes a fresh way of looking at the Christian gospels for those who once loved the texts, but no longer find them challenging. Moore believes the Jesus of the gospels was calling people to be open to life rather than attach themselves to a fixed teaching. He reframes the wedding feast at Cana—said to be the scene of Christ's first miracle—as “the first lesson in Jesus spirituality: Be human, understand the importance of play and simple sensual pleasures and listen to your family. Then go deeper.” In Moore's reading of the gospels, Jesus himself is earthy and spiritual—a man clearly on the side of moderate sensual delight. Fans of Moore's previous books and readers who share his view that Jesus was not concerned with creating a religion or a plan for self-improvement, but was instead interested in a restructuring of the human imagination, will find plenty to ponder. (May 1)

Imitating the life of Jesus isn't solely about embracing his message of love, sacrifice and service, according to evangelical pastor Boyd. In his latest book, the author of The Myth of a Christian Nation also asserts that becoming part of the “beautiful revolution” means rebelling against everything that is incompatible with that way of life, including violence, poverty, sexual promiscuity and secularism. While exhortations to practice the presence of God and be generous to the poor are likely to be uncontroversial, the writer seems to enjoy afflicting the comfortable, whether they are church-going believers or secular atheists. His critique of the “pagan values of our nation” and his impassioned call to choose love over judgment may occasion heated conversation among more conservative readers, while his endearing honesty and accessible style will undoubtedly appeal to others. Boyd has included an extensive action guide, which includes multiple exercises for self-reflection, as well as his practical suggestions for churches and small groups on how, as he sees it, to lose one's religion and become a part of the radical kingdom of Jesus. (May)

At a time when political and religious liberals are taking refuge in the word “progressive,” McLennan (Finding Your Religion) presents an unapologetic case for liberal Christianity. Reporting that about 20% of Americans are liberal Christians, he states, “Too many of them choose silence, afraid to use the word 'liberal' to describe where they stand.” He immediately tackles hot-button topics—abortion, science and same-sex marriage—then moves on to liberal perspectives on God, Jesus, the Trinity, the church and the Bible as well as feminist theology and living faithfully as a liberal Christian. Personal anecdotes from McLennan's own faith journey and advice for practitioners vary in effectiveness, but few liberal concerns about traditional Christianity go unaddressed. Dean for religious life at Stanford University, an inspiration for Doonesbury's Rev. Scott Sloan of comic strip fame and a Unitarian Universalist minister, McLennan and his theology may not always draw agreement from other Christians who consider themselves liberals, nor does the book engage postmodern “emergent” theology. But McLennan's presentation is remarkably thoughtful, respectful and balanced as he argues that liberal Christianity is a vital expression of faith. (May)

In her first book, National Public Radio correspondent Hagerty acts as a tour guide through the rocky terrain of scientists who study religious experience. Is there a so-called “God gene”? Why do some people have mystical experiences while others never see the so-called light? Right up front, Hagerty reveals that this is not an entirely objective exercise. As a Christian, she wants to understand her own mystical encounter with the divine and why she believes when others do not. Yet to each interview, whether with a world-renowned neuroscientist or a back-road mystic, she brings a suitably skeptical eye. Along the way, she manages to explain some pretty cutting-edge science—psychoneuroimmunology, anyone?—and unravel some people's pretty hard-to-comprehend religious experiences without sacrificing depth or complexity. Then, with equal aplomb, she dances off to peyote ceremonies, church services and Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. The real beauty of this book lies in watching Hagerty gracefully balance her own trust in faith and science and, in the end, come down with one foot planted firmly in both. (May)

Some Cameron fans will love this latest work from the writer and creativity guru who developed and wrote the multimillion-selling The Artist's Way, receiving it as another installment of unfolding spiritual wisdom. Others may think they've read this book before, because Cameron's views on spirituality—and its essential relationship to creativity—are basically a single note that she plays extensively and well. The core of her message—that the spiritual life is a daily surrender to God's plans for one's life—comes straight from the 12-step recovery movement that saved the author from her own alcoholism. In this book, Cameron adds a lot from the Bible, quoting frequently from Psalms and the epistles of Paul, which may surprise those readers who expect less scriptural spirituality. The book reads like stream of consciousness, with no chapter breaks, so it feels repetitive and lacking structure and progression. On the whole, there isn't much new, but maybe there needn't be; like a muscle, faith is built through repetition of beneficial actions that may not provide immediate results. (May)

University of Wales lecturer Bunt is an authority on Islam on the Internet, having exhaustively researched the presence and practice of the faith on the Internet for two other books besides this one, the latest in the UNC Press's Islamic Civilization and Muslim Networks series. Bunt states from the outset that a practice of Islam, distinct from Islam lived in real life, has already emerged online, with Muslims sometimes identifying more with a Web site than a particular mosque or formal sect. Those who espouse their Muslim values online, the “iMuslims” of the title, are not just jihadis sharing bomb-making instructions but also hajjis (pilgrims) and other bloggers. Blogs allow these iMuslims to delve deeply into theological and societal issues not otherwise addressed. Bunt further theorizes that Muslims have an “open-source” educational legacy. This open-source nature of Islamic theology inclines Muslims, possible more than other faith adherents, towards an online “rewiring” of their faith. Though stopping short of analyzing the theological implications of such developments as Muslim dating Web sites, iMuslims is a near-encyclopedia of Islam online. (May 15)

Chapman—author of the bestseller The Five Love Languages—posits that “our culture often seems to have a love-tracked mind.” This time he takes his expertise in the area to a more personal level by offering readers 40 stories written by everyday folks who have practiced what Chapman preaches: “love is a verb.” Readers will discover a husband and wife who make “I'm sorry” part of their lives; a father who sacrifices coaching basketball to help care for his infant daughter; a university staff member who learns to see an outcast girl through God's eyes; and a mother-in-law who learns to love her son's wife. Chapman follows each story with several paragraphs highlighting a key point that can help in developing healthy relationships, drawn directly from the preceding story. Those who have read and applied Chapman's “love languages” to their lives will find inspiration; newcomers to Chapman's work will find that love takes on many forms and is worth the effort. (May)

Signature

Reviewed by Michael Coffey

This is an exasperating, maddening, exhausting and inchorent book by the stunningly prolific Vollmann, who has really outdone himself. Eleven hundred pages plus endless endnotes about a single county in California is as perverse as Vollmann has dared be—which is saying a lot for a guy who has written a massive collection of tales about skinheads (Rainbow Stories), a seven-volume history of the settling of a measly continent (Seven Dreams) and another seven volumes on the history of violence (Rising Up and Rising Down). But a big book about one county? Well, it's not just any county. Imperial is the southeastern-most county in California, bordering with Mexico to the south and Arizona to the east, across the Colorado River. Is it a place deserving of this seemingly disproportionate chronicle? Today, it is a hot spot for illegal immigration, law enforcement action, drug trafficking, prostitution and sweatshop labor in maquilladoras, fetid border factories. It is a place, sure enough, where imperialism has made its mark. Over the past centuries, a lot of bad things have happened in El Centro, as the region is also called, and very little good, as Vollmann's excessive data-dump demonstrates ad nauseam. The Spanish came, murdered, plundered, left; America annexed; land grabs ensued and Colorado River water was illegally diverted westward to render a temporary agricultural paradise and make a few fortunes. As with most of his books, Vollmann has performed mind-boggling feats of research, gobbling up obscure and arcane texts about the Spanish conquests, hydrography, citrus cultivation, immigration, poverty rates, desalinization, drug use, human smuggling and exploitation of the weak by the wealthy in all its guises as it applies to this benighted, once beautiful desert region. If Vollmann has a point of view here, an axe to grind, it is that he is appalled by the power inequities and the subsequent suffering of the Mexicans, and he is moved by the latter's simple desire to have a better life. But gouts of a bleeding heart make for some viscous prose, and, as seldom happens with Vollmann, his emotions overcome his cool and his positions fray into incoherence. Vollmann's normally reliable narrative voice veers between tour guide–speak and backpacking sociologist, with the occasional lyrical paean to a lady of the night. As a result, Imperial County is a place that few will have the stomach to visit, and Imperial a book few will be willing to read. (powerHouse is publishing a book of 200 photographs Vollmann took during the course of his research: $55 [200p] ISBN 978-1-57687-489-9.) Photos, maps. (Aug.)

Coffey is executive managing editor at PW.

The decline and fall of ancient Rome is a subject of perpetual fascination—here are three new takes.

Drawing on the Roman historian Priscus of Panium's History of Attila the Hun, Cambridge University historian Kelly (Ruling the Later Roman Empire) restores the image of Attila as a politically ingenious leader bent more on making strategic alliances to benefit his people than conquering neighboring tribes by savage attacks. With the grace of a good storyteller, Kelly narrates the Huns' origins as nomadic peoples who eventually settled in the Great Hungarian Plain. As they began to consolidate their control over new territories, says Kelly, the Huns recognized the need for a more stable form of government, a greater concentration of military effort focused on a single objective, and the closer coordination of all clans under one leader. In A.D. 434, they found their leader in Attila, and the Huns steadily conquered—by force and by strategic political agreements—various regions of the Roman Empire. They were never able to take Rome, but battling the Huns so weakened Rome's resources that Vandals sacked the city in A.D. 455, effectively ending the Western Roman Empire. Kelly's first-rate history provides a singularly fresh look at a fractious period in the life of ancient Rome. Maps. (June)

By the end of the fifth century A.D., the Ostrogoths had taken Italy, marking the downfall of the Western Roman Empire. In 527, the new emperor, Justinian, swore to restore imperial Rome to its ancient glory. While he fought to maintain the eastern borders of the empire against the Persians, Justinian's strategy was to retake the lands lost to the Goths: Gaul, Spain, Britain, North Africa. In workmanlike fashion, Jacobsen, former curator at the Royal Danish Museum, provides an operational history of Justinian's campaign from the Battle of Callinicum and the Vandal War of 530 to the battles of Ad Decimum and Tricamarum. Throughout, Jacobsen traces the military strategies and tactical intrigues of leaders such as the Roman general Belisarius and the Goth leader Totila, among others. While Justinian succeeded in re-conquering North Africa, Spain and Italy, his campaigns exhausted the empire and by the latter part of the sixth century, many of these lands fell to the Visigoths, Moors and Lombards. Appendixes detail the equipment and tactics of the Romans and the Ostrogoths. 35 illus., 16 maps. (June 1)

Historian Traina, a professor at the University of Rouen, offers a series of snapshots of Roman history in a decidedly average year when the challenge was primarily to keep the grand imperial machinery running smoothly even as the empire's future was precarious. Although Traina's approach is wooden, he introduces a cast of people—pagan and Christian, military and civilian, male and female—who characterize this ambiguous and “complex period of transition.” Tensions within Christianity become clear from the story of Nestorius, a Syrian monk elected bishop of Constantinople in 428 only to be condemned three years later as a heretic for his views on the full divinity of Christ. By 428, questions about imperial unity dominated discussions between Rome and Constantinople as the Goth and Hun forces knocked on both the eastern and western doors of the empire. Traina's succinct traversal of the empire provides a glimpse of this transitional moment in Rome's history. Maps. (June)