Nonfiction Reviews: Week of 5/11/2009

The life of an advertising executive couldn't be further from the glamorous world of Mad Men, according to this entertaining, albeit meandering, memoir. After a giddy beginning banging out copy for a small ad agency, Othmer, a longtime creative director and copywriter, worked his way to the top in 2000 only to discover that his traditional agency was being abandoned in favor of forward-thinking brand stewards who wanted hip new ideas from smaller shops well-versed in new media and digital marketing. Fascinated by groundbreaking interactive campaigns like the 2007 Nine Inch Nails Internet Easter egg hunt and Burger King's “Subservient Chicken” gag, he found his love for advertising reinvigorated, and his book is an effort to better understand the inescapable industry's influence on culture. Though there's no particular conclusion drawn, and the story itself wanders, the humor and genuine excitement that shine through may keep some media-world readers interested—most tellingly when, at a swanky party full of advertising executives, the author wistfully observes that even real life has begun to feel fake. (Sept.)

With an anthropologist's eye and a novelist's pen, Pulitzer Prize–winning Kidder (Mountains Beyond Mountains) recounts the story of Deo, the Burundian former medical student turned American émigré at the center of this strikingly vivid story. Told in flashbacks from Deo's 2006 return visit to Burundi to mid-1990s New York and the Burundi of childhood memory and young adulthood—as the Rwandan genocide spilled across the border following the same inflamed ethnic divisions—then picking up in 2003, when author and subject first meet, Deo's experience is conveyed with a remarkable depth of vision and feeling. Kidder renders his subject with deep yet unfussy fidelity and the conflict with detail and nuance. While the book might recall Dave Eggers's novelized version of a real-life Sudanese refugee's experience in What Is the What, reading this book hardly covers old ground, but enables one to walk in the footsteps of its singular subject and see worlds new and old afresh. This profoundly gripping, hopeful and crucial testament is a work of the utmost skill, sympathy and moral clarity. (Aug.)

Berman (Tehran Rising), vice president for policy at the American Foreign Policy Council, offers a comprehensive strategy for reclaiming “the offensive” in the “global war on terror.” He expresses optimism cautiously, but warns that the gains—especially in Afghanistan—are tenuous and that the U.S. risks losing the initiative to the terrorists. He proposes a broad approach that emphasizes the political, economic and legal fronts in this long war, cautioning—as has Defense Secretary Robert Gates—that “the military should not... be the tip of the spear.” As concerned with Iran as with al-Qaeda, the author recommends an array of tactics—some more hopeful than helpful—including political outreach, an Iranian embargo, educational assistance, updated laws of war and disrupting terrorist fund-raising. There is much of interest, although the main thrust of Berman's argument—the need for a comprehensive counterterrorism strategy—is the new conventional wisdom. Nevertheless, Berman's careful analysis and thoughtful conclusions are a welcome addition to the ongoing debate about the way forward . (Aug.)

Keefe (Chatter) examines America's complicated relationship with immigration in this brilliant account of Cheng Chui Ping, known as Sister Ping, who built a multimillion-dollar empire as a “snakehead,” smuggling Chinese immigrants into America. Sister Ping herself entered the U.S. legally in 1981 from China's Fuzhou province, but was soon known among Fujianese immigrants in Manhattan's Chinatown as the go-to for advice, loans and connections to bring their families to America. Her empire grew so large that she contracted out muscle work to the local gang, the Fuk Ching. Keefe points to the Golden Venture—a ship full of Fujianese illegals that ran fatally aground in 1993—as the beginning of the end for Sister Ping. She was sentenced in 2000 to 35 years in prison for conspiracy, money laundering and trafficking. Despite an enormous cast of characters in a huge underground web of global crime, Keefe's account maintains the swift pace of a thriller. With the immigration debate still boiling, this exploration of how far people will go to achieve the American dream is a must-read. (July 21)

The double life of the writer—the doggedly functional outer persona surrounding the neurotic inner core—comes through in this sparkling if scattershot collection from New York's gonzo scribe. In his forays into lifestyle journalism, Ames (Wake Up, Sir) is perennially out of place whether among scary teens at a suburban gothic fest or vapid club hoppers in Manhattan's glitzy meatpacking district. He's ill at ease just being himself in memoiristic essays, from a European travelogue to an account of recent boxing stunts. His fictional alter egos are similarly out of their comfort zones; in the sly anti-noir “Bored to Death,” an Amesian writer poses as a PI and flounders when the lark becomes too real. As always, Ames's own bodily functions, baldness and angst take center stage—“Am I darker than Marilyn Manson?” he broods in a profile of the goth pied piper—along with his graphic sex scenes, which play out as detached procedurals in which he self-consciously monitors his partners for signs of orgasm This miscellany contains some weak items—college diary entries?—dredged out of a bottom drawer. But at his best, Ames still beguiles with his offbeat, defiantly hangdog sensibility. Photos. (July)

These essays, spare and elegant as Michaels alights on a range of subjects, follow the late writer's own precept: “I think we name ourselves, more or less, whenever we write, and thus tend always to write about ourselves.” This pungent collection, by a quizzical New York Jew who never quite assimilated, divides into two sections: critical essays and autobiographical essays. Many of these works first appeared in the Threepenny Review, among other publications. The first part includes a brilliant essay “On Love” and another on “Having Trouble with My Relationship.” The latter breezily covers figures as diverse as Pope, Larkin, Heidegger and Kafka. Other figures and subjects blowing through these pages include Bellow, Nabokov, Kubrick, Edward Hopper, Wallace Stevens Rita Hayworth, and how to watch a movie. The best and most penetrating essays come in the second section, as Michaels gives a wincing account of family bedtime stories—on pogroms—a happier set of epiphanies on his father, a wise Yiddish-speaking barber; and yet another describing fish-out-of-water experiences at Berkeley. All told, these are soul-baring occasional pieces by a writer's writer and a master stylist. (July)

Michelangelo did not want to create the Last Judgment (1537–1541), yet, argues Connor (Pascal's Wager), it was his clearest expression of the “terror at the bottom of his psyche,” a terror stemming largely from the conflict between his probable homosexual desires and his religious faith. Connor traces the creation of the Last Judgment and Michelangelo's struggle to reconcile his “innate religious zeal” with his love for nobleman Tommaso de Cavalieri. Connor's narrative is compelling, his writing vivid and evocative. An English professor and former Jesuit priest, he superbly places the Last Judgment in the context of Copernicus's heliocentric universe and of the Catholic reforms of Savonarola and the Council of Trent. Yet the Council condemned the work for its nudity and unconventional portraits of religious figures; a chapter on the fresco's censorship is one of the book's most fascinating. The monumental painting was ultimately driven less by Michelangelo's artistic impulses than by his desire for salvation. Connor presents an indispensable perspective for the general reader as well as fresh insights for the specialist. (July)

French-raised Mary Stuart's life began with tragedy and ended with tragedy for both the monarch and Scotland. Mary Queen of Scots has not always been shown in a positive light, but Graham's pro-Elizabeth bias appears in his showcasing of the instincts of wily, intellectual Queen Elizabeth against naïve, spoiled Mary. Raised in a “gilded cage” in France to be an ornamental object at court, she ignored governing and deadly court politics as long as she could, and she routinely irritated her English counterpart, Elizabeth. Unsuccessful as ruler in a fragile Scotland, the queen grew even unhappier as the wife of John Darnley, a syphilitic narcissist. All in all, Graham, producer of BBC-TV's Elizabeth, narrates Mary's short life as a hellish fairy tale for naughty children, ending with the queen's grisly death. This dense biography in strongest in carefully detailing the Western European political atmosphere of Mary's youth and nimbly describes the Scottish nobles' machinations to improve their lot before forcing her to abdicate. 16 pages of illus. (July 22)

In 1682, the Quaker William Penn established a colony where settlers would attempt to coexist peacefully with Native Americans. But 80 years later, his vision had been destroyed by violence, ideology and greed. Boston College historian Kenny (The American Irish), in this mostly fast-paced account, offers new insights on the demise of Penn's “holy experiment,” focusing on a violent group of militiamen called the Paxton Boys, who in 1763 wiped out a group of Conestoga Indians living on land ceded to them by Penn. As Kenny points out, Pennsylvania moved from its peaceful ideal through the greed and deceit of Penn's sons (who swindled Indians out of their lands), the carnage of the French and Indian War, and the ruthless brutality of the Paxton Boys, who declared that the Indians' land belonged to them by right of conquest. Although the provincial government denied the Paxton Boys the land, it never prosecuted them. Kenny concludes that the Boys' attitude toward the Indians and their attacks on the ruling powers presaged the military and political activities of the American Revolution and the new nation's mistreatment of the Indians. 39 b&w illus. (July)

A contributing editor and mysteries editor for the Washington Post Book World, Drabelle brings to life the drama surrounding a large Nevada silver vein called the Comstock Lode, which through the 1860s and '70s yielded $300 million in ore. A central figure is opportunistic Nevada lawyer Big Bill Stewart, who helped develop the lode, bilked investors and “occupied center stage of the [1861] litigation pageant” over mine claims. Drabelle describes conflicts with Native Americans and the early sightings of silver, sinking shafts, the influx of settlers and fortune seekers, Virginia City's brief heyday as “a Babylon of the Great American Desert,” while relating the importance of Comstock for American history and culture. It played a role in the launching of the Hearst publishing empire, railroad expansion and technological advances from cable cars to elevators. Mark Twain, who sojourned in Comstock country, mined “outcast lingo” to create a new direction for frontier humor and American prose. Drabelle introduces a vast cast of colorful characters as he explores how fortunes were won and lost, skillfully recreating the boom-and-bust atmosphere of this period in American history. 8 pages of b&w photos. (July)

Though it's well known that the U.S.S.R. spied on everyone, readers will be amazed by this account of its extensive infiltration of the Catholic Church. A journalist and former army intelligence officer, Koehler (Stasi) explains that the KGB relied on Catholic Eastern European agents, many of whom occupied prominent positions in the church hierarchy, and they listened in as U.S. and European leaders briefed the pope. Koehler mines mostly East German and Polish secret police archives and quotes them, sometimes too liberally. Included is a pitiful but lengthy verbatim 1973 transcript of South Vietnam's foreign minister begging the pope for assistance as U.S. troops prepare to withdraw, but there are also too many tedious discussions of minimally interesting cold war topics. The digressions from spying vary from an interminable account of Pope John Paul II's 1979 Polish visit to juicy details of the KGB-backed 1981 assassination attempt on the anti-communist pope. Koehler's angry book will satisfy readers who remain outraged at Communist perfidy, but they will work hard for the satisfaction unless they skim long sections of verbatim quotes and political analyses. (July)

This volume concludes Starr's unprecedented seven-volume history of a single American state. While out of chronological order (Starr covered the period 1990–2003 in Coast of Dreams) and often ranging far beyond the book's stated dates, this final volume is of the same high quality as the previous ones: spirited in style, comprehensive and long. Starr covers a broad range of subjects: demography, water, freeways, politics, culture, the state's major cities, race relations. As in all other volumes, he hangs his story on sketches of many of California's often larger-than-life individuals, among them Buffy Chandler, Cardinal McIntyre, Pat Brown, Dave Brubeck, Clark Kerr, Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Herb Caen. But too often biography substitutes for analysis. Letting others speak for him, Starr rarely lets an authorial voice shine through or a critical stance intrude. The result is wonderfully readable descriptive history, but not a history that leaves readers with a fresh take on the Golden State as a whole. That's a pity, for no one knows more about California than Starr. We could have used at least his concluding thoughts on the state's past and future. 30 b&w photos. (July)

Caldwell frames the issue of Muslim immigration to Europe as a question of “whether you can have the same Europe with different people.” The author, a columnist for the Financial Times and a senior editor at the Weekly Standard, answers this question unequivocally in the negative. He offers a brief demographic analysis of the potential impact of Muslim immigration—estimating that between 20% and 32% of the populations of most European countries will be foreign-born by the middle of the century—and traces the origins of this mass immigration to a postwar labor crisis. He considers the social, political and cultural implications of this sea change, from the banlieue riots and the ban on the veil in French public schools to terrorism across Europe and the question of Turkey's accession to the E.U. Caldwell sees immigration as a particular problem for Europe because he believes Muslim immigrants retain a Muslim identity, which he defines monolithically and unsympathetically, rather than assimilating to their new homelands. This thorough, big-thinking book, which tackles its controversial subject with a conviction that is alternately powerful and narrow-minded, will likely challenge some readers while alienating others. (July)

Linzey (Creatures of the Same God), director of the Oxford Centre for Animal Ethics, is a soft-spoken hard-liner about animal rights. In this philosophically and theologically dense treatise, cobbled together and revised from essays and presentations prepared between 2002 and 2007, he rationalizes why no animal should ever be killed or even harmed by humans. Linzey dwells at abstruse length on efforts to ban foxhunting in Britain, while other countries are condemned, America included, for “causing suffering for pleasure.” A chapter devoted to fur farming slams the practice of raising animals for their pelts, subjecting them “to prolonged suffering for trivial ends, such as fur coats.” A chapter devoted to commercial sealing dwells on the clubbing of baby seals. Such animal abuse is a precursor to serial murder and violence to children, the author suggests, before calling for an end to killing animals even for food, given that humans can live healthy lives “without recourse to flesh products.” Linzey's proanimal extremism is admirable, but won't suit every reader.(Aug.)

Sociologists Berger (The Social Construction of Reality) and Zijderveld (The Abstract Society) inveigh against the dogma of “isms” that replace humor with certainty and thoughtfulness with blind action. Between the extremes of fundamentalism and moral relativism sits the doubter, perched on liberal democracy, which the authors describe as a three-legged stool, balanced on the state, civil society and the market economy to promote debate and dissent. Berger and Zijderveld illustrate the obvious perils of extremism, but are less adept at navigating moderation. They apply their “doubt” premise to abortion, capital punishment and immigration policy, and come to inoffensively moderate political positions, but their tepid recommendations lack appeal; as the authors admit, “The agnostic position is by definition a weak one.” What recommends doubt as a concept is that it defies stringent characterization. Yet in both style and approach, the authors belie the vigorousness of their position—and an important position it is. (Aug.)

America's preference for easy answers over hard questions is castigated in this unfocused critical-thinking manifesto. Schlesinger, director of the Drum Major Institute, blames an alleged (but undemonstrated) decline in the habit of asking big questions for a grab bag of shortcomings in education and public rhetoric: students who rely on Google to do their research; standardized tests that demand regurgitated facts rather than analysis and evaluation; the displacement of civics courses by “financial literacy” curricula that insinuate free-market ideology; Sarah Palin's evasive gobbledygook in the vice-presidential debates. It all adds up, she contends, to an attenuated democracy that never challenges the status quo, that values “solutions and being right over thoughtful inquiry.” One cannot argue with Schlesinger's call for deeper thinking about public affairs, but her framing of the issue as a crisis of questioning is obtuse. She ignores how inquiry can be an instrument of obfuscation (think of the fossil-fuel industry's persistent “questioning” of global-warming research), and her disdain for factual knowledge slights the role of sheer ignorance in clouding political debate. Hers is a regrettably shallow take on the problems of public discourse. (July 13)

In this disappointingly mundane book, Scarborough, host of MSNBC's Morning Joe, mistakes his skills at showmanship for those of critical analysis. From the Iraq War to the recent financial crisis, his arguments amount to little more than a superficial précis of the current political moment. For most readers, this book will be an ideological retread and an unimaginative slog. Unlike the recent writings of Reihan Salam and Ross Douthat, whose New Majority labored to be a prescriptive way forward for conservatives, Scarborough hardly gets outside of the well-traversed policy debates and received wisdom of Beltway professionals. While he sees his book as a blueprint for a renewed conservative politics, his only stab at unconventional thinking is to advocate a conservative embrace of green politics. For all the book's flaws, it never descends to ad hominem attacks or becomes a platform for gross personal vendettas, nor does it trade in the self-regard of the Olberman or O'Reilly variety, which is to Scarborough's credit. But these qualities are not enough to recommend readers pluck this one from the shelf, or even the bargain bin. (July)

A former environmental journalist, Dumanoski examines how societies are continuing to disregard the inevitability of drastic climate change—even if carbon emission levels dropped to zero overnight—and how world leaders have shown tremendous capacity to put off preparing for the possible eventualities. Fortunately—according to Dumanoski—humanity has reached a seminal moment “when everything is possible,” and the time has arrived for individuals to redefine societal values, to “reconsider not simply the means by which we pursue endless growth, but the wisdom of the goal itself.” Dumanoski recounts relevant scientific and political history to prove her theory that a “tipping point” has been reached. Her theories on the possible consequences of climate change are well reasoned and thought provoking, but her ruminations on the history of human hubris dominate the book and prove so effective that they leave the reader feeling depressed rather than convinced of her optimism. Time alone will determine whether she is an uncannily prescient thinker or an environmentalist Chicken Little. (July 14)

Launched from her regular feature column “Fines Lines” for Jezebel.com, this spastically composed, frequently hilarious omnibus of meditations on favorite YA novels dwells mostly among the old-school titles from the late '60s to the early '80s much beloved by now grown-up ladies. This was the era, notes the bibliomaniacal Skurnick in her brief introduction, when books for young girls moved from being “wholesome and entertaining” (e.g., The Secret Garden and the Nancy Drew series) to dealing with real-life, painful issues affecting adolescence as depicted by Beverly Cleary, Lois Duncan, Judy Blume, Madeleine L'Engle and Norma Klein. Skurnick groups her eruptive essays around themes, for example, books that feature a particularly memorable, fun or challenging narrator (e.g., Louise Fitzhugh's Harriet the Spy); girls “on the verge,” such as Blume's Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret or “danger girls” such as Duncan's Daughters of Eve; novels that deal with dying protagonists and other tragedies like child abuse (Willo Davis Roberts's Don't Hurt Laurie!); and, unavoidably, heroines gifted with a paranormal penchant, among other categories. Skurnick is particularly effective at spotlighting an undervalued classic (e.g., Joan Aiken's The Wolves of Willoughby Chase) and offers titles featuring troubled boys as well. Her suggestions will prove superhelpful (not to mention wildly entertaining) for educators, librarians and parents. (Aug.)

In this remarkable recreation of the WWII years, Dawson, a columnist at the Orlando Sentinel, writes about his mother, pianist Zhanna Arkashyna in an account reminiscent of Wladyslaw Szpilman's The Pianist. As a child in the Ukraine, Zhanna was offered a scholarship to the Moscow State Conservatory. Her life changed in 1941 when Nazis grouped her Jewish family with thousands to be executed; Zhanna and her sister, Frina, escaped to roam the countryside as fugitives, hiding and surviving. With a new name and a non-Jewish identity, Zhanna performed for unsuspecting Nazis. Arriving in New York in 1946, the sisters enrolled at Juilliard on scholarships. Zhanna married violist David Dawson, and the couple moved in 1948 to Bloomington, Ind., joining the music faculty at Indiana University. To research his mother's homeland, Dawson traveled to Ukraine, including Dorbitsky Yar, where 15,000 Jews were murdered, among them Zhanna and Frina's parents. On a memorial listing the dead, Dawson was shocked to find his mother's name: “I had come that close to nonexistence.” With italicized selections from his mother's own writing, Dawson skillfully weaves the story of her life and music into a vibrant tapestry, tattered and torn, yet triumphant. (July)

Until one mysterious day in 1983, the foreskin of Jesus—once one of the Catholic Church's holiest of relics—lay nestled in a box in a small church in Calcata, a village in the hills of northern Italy. On that fateful day in December, however, priest Don Dario announced to his tiny congregation that the foreskin had disappeared. What happened to this holy relic? Who could have taken this piece of the divine that medieval saint Catherine of Siena was purported to have worn as a ring around her finger and about which writers as diverse as Joyce, Stendhal and José Saramago have written? In this humorous narrative, journalist Farley sets off to solve the mystery of the missing foreskin. Part travelogue, part mystery story and part religious history, Farley's tale involves local winemakers, actors and priests, many of whom are tight-lipped about the relic's disappearance. In 1900, the Vatican decreed that anyone who talked about the holy foreskin would face excommunication, and thereby cut off its status as a holy relic. Farley discovers that no one really knows whether this piece of holy skin ever existed in the first place, and that no one knows its whereabouts now. Although Farley's often repetitious tale might have been sufficient as a magazine article, his fast-paced storytelling and winning humor raise thoughtful questions about the nature of faith. (July)

Darrell Abbott, known to fans of rock band Pantera as “Dimebag Darrell,” was shot to death by a deranged fan while playing a show in Columbus, Ohio, in 2004. This horrific event, recounted in nightmarish detail and replete with gratuitous comparisons to September 11, bookends Crain's reverential but superficial chronicle of the highly regarded heavy-metal guitarist's career. As narrated by Crain, Dallas Observer music editor, Darrell is a hard-drinking mama's boy who, growing up in Arlington, Tex., refined his guitar chops by walling himself up in his room for hours instead of going to high school. With his brother, Vince, and other neighborhood musicians, Darrell formed the band Pantera. Under the influence of Metallica and with the addition of a rough-edged singer named Phil Anselmo, the band evolved into a major force on the metal scene with its original blend of technical skill and Southern attitude. Pantera achieved massive success in the '90s with the release of a few albums, including the “heaviest album to hit No. 1 on the charts,” Far Beyond Driven, and toured the world. Crain dutifully recounts the addictions and intra-band squabbling that inevitably shadow rock success, but the cheerful strangeness and decency of “Dimebag,” perhaps best exemplified by his collaboration with the eccentric country musician David Allen Coe, manages to shine through, even in the darker corners of the narrative. (July)

In this raucous, shallow, “87% true” memoir, Wieder, producer of such reality TV dreck as My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiancé, leaves his wife, Samantha, out of boredom; the ball-and-chain discarded, he buys a Porsche, listens to gangster rap and beds a string of young hotties. His second adolescence derails when he develops an obsession with penis size that compels him to measure his member 20 times a day and undertake exercises, gruesomely recounted, gleaned from the online penis-enlargement industry. Wieder is a master of the hip-hop–inflected frat-boy banter, its swagger and misogyny cut with self-deprecation, that Hollywood has made the voice of American masculinity. But his journey from smug self-indulgence through gonzo comeuppance to contrite re-embrace of committed love feels as pat and forced as a reality romance. Rote obsequies aside, Samantha comes off as a pallid drudge, and Wieder's resentment of her and the other needy women who made him “bec[o]me a boyfriend before I ever got to be a boy” never lifts. He remains that most parochial—and uninteresting—of L.A. archetypes: the man who doesn't want to grow up. (July 22)

Dunn's travails will be instantly recognizable to readers in their late 30s and 40s—a generation that's shifted the family bickering about what to serve at holiday dinners to conference calls and e-mails. Her parents are a bottomless well of comedy, sending her wacky newspaper clippings and grilling her loudly about her inability to go to the bathroom during their vacation. Her circle of friends is equally familiar, like the gay buddy who invites her over for TV-movie parties and can always be counted on to make catty remarks about strangers. Several chapters are filled with transcripts of phone conversations with her best friend, Julie, flitting from topic to topic, comparing the embarrassing songs saved on their iPods and wondering why their parents haven't figured out voice mail isn't like an answering machine (“Hello? Anybody there? Hello, it's Dad”). Dunn's tone is genial, only turning serious briefly near the end when she discusses not having kids—and then inadvertently discovers she's finally pregnant. The seriousness doesn't last long, though, and soon it's back to affectionately mocking her mom's decision to get tattooed—although, as her sisters point out, she's secretly pleased to have something new to write about. (June 23)

U2 may be the most popular rock band in the world, but unlike the Beatles' John Lennon, they never claimed to be bigger than Jesus. The band does, however, engage several Christian themes in its music. Garrett, an English professor at Baylor University, plumbs the U2 catalogue to reveal the group's theological worldview. This is not a far stretch—three of the four band members were involved with a charismatic Christian community in Ireland as the group was starting out. U2 is not the only rock band to address spiritual themes in its music, but as the author adeptly illustrates, it has certainly been one of the most consistent and outspoken. Garrett rightly posits in a chapter about social justice that U2's message encourages listeners to put their faith into action for the sake of the poor and marginalized. The author is clearly a music fan, and his excitement about U2 is contagious. Rock music fans who have ever wondered if their faith and musical taste could ever be paired will be intrigued by U2's story and Garrett's theological analysis of the band's music. (July)

Evangelical Christian author Davis (Transparent) has created a sobering yet thoroughly satisfying primer on women's friendships. Davis, vice president of marketing/development for her father, who heads Ravi Zacharias International Ministries, presents a bold and touching view of the whys and wherefores of female relationships. She offers her own friendships as illustrations of the types of friendships women keep. Chapter by chapter, Davis discusses varying roles women adopt; how space between two people is sometimes healthy; when—or if—confrontation is called for; the possibilities of circles of friends and their survival rate; and much more. Readers will find the author's observations distinctive and instructive; they afford women the opportunity to review their own past and present friendships. While Davis's text is thoroughly sound and biblically on track, an overall sad note is woven into her conclusions about women and their ways with one another. (July 21)

Through this companion book to I'm Fine with God... It's Christians I Can't Stand, Christians whose lives have “skidded into a religious rut” may find insight into the cause of their spiritual condition. Coauthors of more than 50 books, Bickel and Jantz urge readers to remedy spiritual staleness and renew their energy. While its companion uncovered ways fellow Christians hamper one's faith, this book explores ways that Christians' own myopic views have obstructed their relationships with God. Each chapter focuses on a particular barrier (e.g., misunderstandings about prayer, fear of judgment from secular society), and the authors use honest, personal anecdotes to expose the issues. A section at the end of each chapter provides detailed instruction that's simply repetitive and doesn't always warrant separation from the chapter content. ; the authors also offer downloadable materials at their Web site ConversantLife.com. Much of the instruction encourages connection with the intangible, so readers will need to put the book down after each chapter to allow time for introspection. If they put in the work that the book requires, they may re-emerge ready for action. (July)

In prose that is both decisive and austere, Willard (The Spirit of the Disciplines) throws down the gauntlet to those in both the secular and religious realms who claim it is impossible to know Christian truths. A professor at the University of Southern California's School of Philosophy, Willard attempts to demonstrate how knowledge and faith can support each other. Arguing that the “standard of knowledge is truth and proper evidence,” the writer leads readers through his proofs for the existence of God, the resurrection of Jesus, God's ongoing intervention in the world and the then logical possibility of a vital spiritual practice centered on “interactive life with Christ.” Christian discipleship, as the author sees it, includes such crucial elements as humility, intent to be inwardly transformed, the practice of the presence of Christ and obedience. As Willard admits in his introduction, the book is a mental workout—even the questions at the end of the chapters are challenging. Woven through with the ideas of classical and contemporary philosophers, theologians and sociologists, this volume will engage readers who are willing to follow Willard on his self-assured way, and trust him as a guide. (July)

Sometimes styled the “guru of calm,” meditation teacher, entrepreneur and frequent author Wilson (The Little Book of Calm) presents simple techniques to help people enter “the Quiet.” Given the volatility of human emotions and experiences, Wilson says, “Meditation is one of the few sustainable ways of ensuring peace and happiness in life.” The book has, unusually, two tables of contents: Book A explains the benefits of meditation and outlines the basic “quiet” practices—deep, directed and aware—as well as ways to maintain inner calm during daily life (“ongoing”). These are standard meditation techniques without spiritual or religious overlay, useful to those of any faith or none. Wilson's instructions are gentle, clear and encouraging, with helpful charts and references to brain functioning. The shorter Book B, marked by a gray bar at the page edge, extends these practices into the spiritual realm for advanced practitioners, suggesting ways to attain transcendence. Readers who don't share Wilson's metaphysics or find him a bit too sanguine about enlightenment can ignore Book B and focus on the core meditation practices in Book A. (July)

Harrington, chairman of biblical studies at Weston Jesuit School of Theology in Boston, delves into the prayers and passages on prayer in the Christian scriptures, linking them with the Jewish tradition of the early Christians. In doing so, he points to echoes from the Hebrew scriptures in such familiar Christian prayers as the Magnificat, the Benedictus, the Gloria and the Nunc Dimittis from the gospel of Luke. He also shows how much Christian prayer is drawn from the book of Psalms, which heavily influenced Jewish prayer in the time of Christ. Harrington illustrates as well how Christ's own teaching and prayer were based in this tradition, as was evident from his prayer at Gethsemane, which recalls the biblical Psalms of lament. The author deals, too, with the prayers of Paul, whom he calls “the first great theologian of the early Christian movement.” At times, Harrington's text is a bit ponderous and more like a lecture (his presumption, for example, of reader familiarity with terms like “Deuteropauline”), but the inclusion of “Think, Pray and Act” suggestions at the end of each chapter help make the text more accessible. (July 1)

Omartian offers a follow-up to her million-plus seller The Power of a Praying Parent, focusing this time on praying for adult children. “The truth is,” says Omartian, “you never stop being a parent who deeply cares about your child's well-being, no matter what age they are....” She offers 14 things to pray for adult children, including that they find freedom, restoration and wholeness; have a sound mind and right attitude; and be protected and survive in tough times. Each chapter includes Prayer Power—a brief, specific prayer—and Word Power, Scripture verses pertaining to the topic. Fans of Omartian will find more of her chatty, personal style mixed with lists and myriad subtopics throughout; new readers may be put off by repetition and that same chattiness. But all readers will know that Omartian's heart is dedicated to prayer, God's redemptive love and a healthy future for all adult children: “by praying, we can help them to hear from God so He can lead them to do what He wants.” (July 1)

This is the second collection of contributions to the online magazine Killing the Buddha (which Sharlet and Manseau founded) to be published in book form. The editors are among the smart, candid, and insightful authors whose personal narratives form the book's 35 brief chapters. The selections represent a wide range of experiences from cheating on bar mitzvah prep to discovering hunger as spiritual food in a Ramadan fast, from sabotaging Bible camp to stumbling upon barbershop theology. Contributions reflect the scope of religious diversity, including orthodox Judaism, Roman Catholicism, Islam, Zen Buddhism and even a meditation on agnosticism. Some are funny, others heartbreaking, and some are simply revelatory. Despite the variety, the collection is unified by the contributors' wrestling with received religious traditions and expectations for belief and practice, each articulating a particular moment of the author's life. The voices are refreshingly honest. Given the narratives' personal nature, readers will not jive with each one but will find particularly thought provoking those that hone in on their own questions, suspicions and experiences. (July)

In his illuminating book, The Moral Animal, Wright introduced evolutionary psychology and examined the ways that the morality of individuals might be hard-wired by nature rather than influenced by culture. With this book, he expands upon that work, turning now to explore how religion came to define larger and larger groups of people as part of the circle of moral consideration. Using a naïve and antiquated approach to the sociology and anthropology of religion, Wright expends far too great an effort covering well-trod territory concerning the development of religions from “primitive” hunter-gatherer stages to monotheism. He finds in this evolution of religion, however, that the great monotheistic (he calls them “Abrahamic,” a term not favored by many religion scholars) religions—Christianity, Islam, Judaism—all contain a code for the salvation of the world. Using game theory, he encourages individuals in these three faiths to embrace a non–zero-sum relationship to other religions, seeing their fortunes as positively correlated and interdependent and then acting with tolerance toward other religions. Regrettably, Wright's lively writing unveils little that is genuinely new or insightful about religion. (June)

Frequent coauthors Benson and Stangroom (Why Truth Matters) theorize that God is against women, recounting in their short book horrific stories of violence against women. Benson and Stangroom categorically dismiss any arguments that patriarchal or sexist practices, like honor killings and female genital mutilation, are cultural. They vehemently insist that religion, which provides male perpetrators moral comfort, is to blame. Later, however, the authors, in one of the rare sections where they try to explain their theory more deeply, back off from their tough position by stating that it is impossible to distinguish religion and culture. Fixated on Islam, and in particular Pakistan, the authors include, for good measure, the Orthodox Jewish modesty police of Jerusalem, Hindus, the tiny Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, unreasonable restrictions on abortion in South America and some other examples. The authors fail to mention examples that disprove their theory, such as the successful eradication of female infanticide in the Muslim world and the plight of women in the developed world, who are undoubtedly victims of nonreligiously motivated sexism. (June)

This easy-to-read memoir describes how a Catholic girl from Milwaukee came to New York, married a well-to-do Jew and gradually decided, despite setbacks and obstacles, to convert to Judaism. She discusses feeling strange at her initial Passover Seder, but being pleased by the judge who incorporated Jewish elements in the wedding ceremony. She was upset by the rabbi at her first High Holiday service and by the teacher when she tried to take a course on Judaism: both railed against intermarriage. After giving birth to a son, Friedes attended High Holiday services again, and this time felt better about the rabbi's sermon. When the family moved to the suburbs, she began to study with the rabbi of the local synagogue, which eventually led to her conversion. A side effect of this experience was strengthening the bond with her mother-in-law, who, unfortunately, died shortly after Friedes became a Jew. The author's 10-year journey to Judaism is chronicled in heartwarming terms that will appeal to both Jewish and non-Jewish readers. (June)

Hold your breath and throw your hands in the air! This theological ride thrills with a colorful whir of profound and profoundly amusing meditations on creation, existence and God. Influenced by his evangelical Christian faith, Wilson (Leepike Ridge) uses an engaging, casual style in this personal notebook of spiritual thought as he offers readers a peek into his world of unapologetic wonder. Spinning through the pages, reflections on philosophers, theologians, leeches and kittens offer dazzling new perspective on the bright lights and dark corners of our carnival-like existence. Wilson's most striking achievement in all his whirling musings is an ever-present insistence on optimism. Even when contemplating death, he cheerfully concludes that he will then have admission to “go on the gnarly rides” of immortality. Indeed, Wilson excels in his elegantly intricate arguments for hope: even a naked mole rat matters. Yes, the prose often jolts and reels on its paper track. It can be an unsettling ride. But that is the poetry of a tilt-a-whirl—the poetry of living. (June)

When Weakland resigned as Milwaukee archbishop in 2002 after revelations of a past homosexual relationship and a confidential payout, it was seen as another stunning episode in the unfolding clergy abuse scandal. It was especially painful to liberal Catholics who viewed Weakland as their champion. Weakland was publicly penitent, but other events that year—chief among them the resignation of Cardinal Bernard Law in Boston—made Weakland's drama a footnote. With this frank and well-told memoir, that's no longer the case. A Benedictine monk, Weakland is up front about his homosexuality in a church that preferred to ignore gays, and about his failures in overseeing pedophile priests. But this is really the poignant journey of a soul, not a mea culpa about sex, with chapters on his hardscrabble boyhood and fascinating, and sometimes sobering, insights into the life of a bishop and the tensions between the American Catholic Church and the Vatican. At points the narrative has more than enough detail on the life of a globe-trotting abbot. But overall this is an invaluable historical record and a moving personal confession. (June)

The shadow of Freud and his view of religion as illusion still looms over psychotherapy, making it problematic for therapists to engage their clients about a subject that can be of great importance and potential benefit. Because she is both a nun and a clinician, author Kehoe can draw on both her psychological and religious training to approach with insight and sensitivity the role of belief and motivation in the lives of people troubled by mental illness. Neither illusion nor panacea, religious belief helps people organize their lives and make decisions. Kehoe has listened for years to people with illness, and she shares their compelling stories. She also discloses her own wrestling with inner religious promptings and their influence in her own choices. This book will be most helpful to other professionals in the field, but its honesty and humility also make it useful for anyone interested in faith and mental illness, particularly anyone with an emotional stake in the difficulties of mental illness. (June)

Three books look at care options for aging Americans and family caregivers.

Longtime Business Week health reporter Gleckman takes readers on a guided tour of group homes, nursing homes, assisted living and the differences between Medicare, Medicaid and long-term care insurance in his comprehensive overview of the current state of long-term care in the U.S. Through interviews with family caregivers, professionals, the cared-for and reformers seeking alternatives to the current system, Gleckman does an impressive job of explaining our current elder-care system and those of other developed nations, and proposes possible solutions to an issue of growing importance as boomers become seniors. (June)

The authors—researchers and academics with the Center for Aging Studies at the Erickson School and with the University of Maryland—spent five years studying life in six Baltimore-area assisted-living facilities. These ranged from an eight-resident home owned by two sisters to a 112-person residential-care facility that is part of a for-profit corporation. The book offers excerpts from interviews with residents, family members and staff. While it can illuminate in depth many of the issues in assisted-care living, its primary audience should be readers with a professional or policy interest in care for the aged. (June 15)

Overwhelmed family caregivers will find Gibbons's book immensely and immediately useful. Even though Gibbons's family had the financial resources to weather the nine years her mother, Jean, lived with Alzheimer's, the feelings of pain and helplessness were unavoidable. Gibbons and her father, siblings and children share what they learned in dealing with Jean's decline and eventual placement in the dementia unit of a nursing home. While memory loss is the focus of the book's first section, the rest offers excellent advice for family caregivers on how to take care of themselves both physically and emotionally, from exercises to keep one strong enough to aid the patient to dealing with guilt and denial around a loved one's memory loss. Photos. (May)