Nonfiction Reviews: 6/29/2009

With the excitement and exhilaration of an explorer, Atlantic contributor Lester sets off on his own journey of discovery across the seas of cartography and history. In 2003, the Library of Congress paid $10 million for the only existing copy of the 1507 map that was the first to show the New World and call it “America.” Lester ranges over the history of cartography, such as the zonal maps of the Middle Ages that divided the world into three parts—Africa, Europe and Asia. In 1507, Martin Waldseemüller and Matthias Ringmann, working with a small group of scholars in a small town in eastern France produced their map, based on Amerigo Vespucci's voyages to the West and discovery of South America. In just a few decades the Waldseemüller map was out of date, but its world-changing status lived on, and in 1901 a Jesuit priest, poking around a small German castle, stumbled on a copy. Lester traces the map's journey to America over the next century in a majestic tribute to a historic work. First serial to Smithsonian magazine. (Nov. 3)

The military-industrial complex proves an unlikely arena for plucky individualism in this history of the men who built America's intercontinental ballistic missile program in the 1950s and '60s. Sheehan paints air force Gen. Bernard Schriever and his colorful band of military aides, civilian patrons, defense intellectuals and aerospace entrepreneurs as a guerrilla insurgency fighting Pentagon red tape, and a hostile air force brass, led by Strategic Air Command honcho Curtis LeMay, who advocated megatonnage bomber planes over ICBMs. Sheehan gives a fascinating run-down of the engineering challenges posed by nuclear missiles, but the main action consists of bureaucratic intrigues, procurement innovations and epic briefings that catch the president's ear and open the funding spigots. Like the author's Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award–winning A Bright Shining Lie, this is a saga of underdog visionaries struggling to redirect a misguided military juggernaut, this time successfully: the author credits Schriever's missiles with keeping the peace and jump-starting the space program and satellite industry. Sheehan's focus on personal initiative and human-scale dramas lends an overly romantic cast to his study of cold war policy making and the arms race, but it makes for an engrossing read. 16 pages of b&w photos. (Oct. 6)

High-profile physician-journalist Gupta—a medical reporter for CNN and columnist for Time who declined President Obama's nomination to be surgeon general—knows a great story when he hears one, and in this collection he rolls out extraordinarily harrowing and inspiring tales from the annals of they-ought-to-be-dead. When there is an injury, a heart attack or any loss of oxygen to the brain, time is the essential factor in determining whether a patient will live. For instance, “therapeutic hypothermia,” by reducing the brain's need for oxygen immediately after a trauma, allows more time for treatments to work. Gupta also notes that lives can be saved through incremental changes to current medical techniques rather than revolutionary breakthroughs. Eliminating the breathing component from CPR and concentrating only on chest compressions has been shown to raise heart attack survival rates to an unheard-of 20%. The achievements are stunning, though Gupta notes “none of the exciting medical changes that we've come across will eliminate the sense of awe and mystery that stalks our notions of death.” Yet it's beyond comforting to know there are doctors who simply refuse to quit a brave but ultimately losing battle to wrestle control over death. (Oct. 12)

Two themes, one explicit, one implicit, compete in this exploration of the link between the development of American capitalism and the devastation of the African-American community. The price of cotton as the “determinant of America's destiny, influencing and even overcoming individual will and ethical behavior” is the fully explicit one. In treating it, Dattel (The Sun Never Rose), formerly a managing director at Salomon Brothers and Morgan Stanley, offers an economic history of cotton. The book's chronological path absorbs the creation of the Confederacy, the waging of the Civil War, Reconstruction, the rise of the Klan, the development of sharecropping, the displacement of black labor by machine and the falling price of cotton. The secondary and competing theme is Northern complicity in the slave trade, the cotton economy, segregation, racism and the development of the “black underclass in the North and South, with its destructive behavioral characteristics.” The economic slant leads to interesting tables and statistics concerning fluctuations in the price of cotton, but for serious readers, the usefulness of Dattel's work is diminished by his heavy reliance on secondary sources and casual documentation. (Oct.)

In considering the iconic diary of Anne Frank, prolific novelist and critic Prose (Reading Like a Writer), praises the young writer's fresh narrative voice, characterizations, sense of pacing and ear for dialogue. Prose calls her a literary genius whose diary was a “consciously crafted work of literature” rather than the “spontaneous outpourings of a teenager,” and offers evidence that Frank scrupulously revised her work shortly before her arrest and intended to publish it after the war. Fans of literary gossip will savor how writer Meyer Levin, a close friend of Anne's father, Otto Frank, famously gave the Diary a front-page rave in the New York Times and later sued Otto when his script for a play based on it was rejected. Some may conclude that Prose contributes to a queasy-making idolization and commodification of Anne Frank, and that she lets Otto Frank off the hook too easily for minimizing the Jewish essence of the Holocaust, yet the author lucidly collates material from a wide range of sources, and her work would be valuable as a teaching guide for middle school, high school and college students. (Oct.)

Pulitzer Prize–winning science journalist Franklin (Molecules of the Mind) draws on a slew of disciplines—evolutionary theory, zooarcheology, behavioral science, ethnology, bio-philosophy and keen firsthand observation—to formulate a challenging but enticingly plausible theory about the psychological leash binding humans and canines. His thesis: beginning about 12,000 years ago, as wild wolves evolved into “follower wolves” and were subsequently domesticated by early man, a kind of mind meld occurred. As this neurological attachment took shape, the dog shed 20% of its brain mass because, biologically, humans had “agreed to do its thinking” for it, while mankind lost 10% of its brain mass because dogs became “our beast of emotional burden.” Franklin buttresses his inventive assertion with a combination of absorbingly loquacious ruminations on the behavior of his own dog, Charlie, and a rigorous compilation of scientific facts rooted in a decade of study about the nature of wolves and dogs. As concepts of the canine go, Franklin's is notably audacious. And among a plethora of books on breeding, disciplining, loving and lamenting the loss of man's best friend, this thoughtful discourse is a best of breed. (Sept.)

Hirsch's 1987 bestseller, Cultural Literacy, generated an intense debate over its proposals for education reform, namely that all schools should teach a standard core curriculum—the information every American should be equipped with in order to participate in the national cultural life (e.g., everyone should understand the term “Achilles heel”; know who said, “To be or not to be” or who wrote the Gettysburg Address). Hirsch's new book fine-tunes his philosophy while rebutting the criticism that “cultural literacy” fostered a conservative “white” curriculum that didn't take into account the learning styles and knowledge base of minority groups. Although must reading for educators, the book undoubtedly will reignite the earlier controversy. For example, Hirsch questions the wisdom of charter schools and educational vouchers, insisting that a “trans-ethnic” common educational experience can be had only in public schools attended by rich and poor together. However, in the context of the continuing shortcomings of American education and armed with the support of prominent educators, Hirsch once again challenges the prevailing “child-centered” philosophy, championing a return to a “subject-centered” approach to learning. (Sept.)

Nasr (The Shia Revival) offers a fresh look at the future of religious extremism in the Middle East, suggesting that “the great battle... for the soul of the region will be fought not over religion, but over business and capitalism.” He posits that a rising middle class—seen most dramatically in Dubai, but a force across the whole Muslim world—is far more interested in economic success than in fervent religiosity, even as many bring a distinctly Muslim approach to the business they do. He points out that while the Reformation created the modern world, it wasn't that era's “intolerant faith” that made the transformation but rather “trade and commerce,” adding that “values gain currency when they serve the economic and social interests of people.” His in-depth analysis of the failures of various governments to provide for their people, as well as special focus on what is working in Turkey, and what is crippling Pakistan, helps drive his thesis home. Nasr's analysis can't help being somewhat hobbled by the fact that it depends heavily on the shifting sands of history-in-the-making, but his approach is sensible, well-argued and deserves close attention. (Sept.)

A digital marketing maven who parlayed a podcast into a thriving career, Joel extends the notion of human interconnectedness by six degrees to the virtual world. With abundant Internet social networking sites and mobile texting, “we are all intrinsically connected,” he argues in this accessible primer to capitalizing on connections to increase brand awareness. New breeds of entrepreneurs are being created daily, he asserts, using free publishing tools available on the Internet to create brands and develop audiences on a scale that rivals the biggest firms in the world. Joel cites such success stories as Gary Vaynerchuk of Wine Library, who transformed his parents' New Jersey liquor store from a $4 million business to a $45 million one in five years by connecting to Facebook and Twitter and creating a video podcast to lure customers. More than a mere collection of inspirational case studies, the book offers practical advice, from choosing a catchy blog name to tips on Web presentation. Joel has created an eminently readable guide to harnessing the various tools available across the virtual landscape. (Sept.)

Spector (Category Killers) offers a love letter to American small-business people, in particular his beloved, hardworking father, a neighborhood butcher. A tribute to local merchants, depicted as independent, passionate and persistent and the guardians of our most basic and enduring commercial bond, the book presents a broad, intriguing history of the 90% of all modern-day U.S. businesses, which are family-owned or controlled, and their neighborhood-defining, community-building, ethics-based contribution to the American way of life. Spector touches on such examples of small-business successes as Rob Kaufelt of Murray's Cheese in New York's Greenwich Village, but his book truly sings when the author recounts his childhood spent in his family's butcher shop and the practical wisdom he gleaned at his father's knee. Cheerful and charming, this is a heartfelt look at life on “the other side of the counter.” (Sept.)

Allen, an assistant professor of history at Northwestern, presents a perceptive analysis of the history of the Vietnam War POW/MIA issue: paradoxically, the most extensive study ever attempted, despite the startling fact that the number of those missing in action is comparatively small (about 1,800, compared with 8,000 in Korea). In an ambitious book, Allen meticulously traces the history of the movement to account for the missing, concentrating on the group that became the National League of Families of American Prisoners and Missing in Southeast Asia. He captures the sense of bitterness and betrayal that motivated the families and shows how the league morphed from a wives-led lobbying effort into a political phenomenon that has had a significant impact on the body politic through six presidential administrations, from Nixon to George W. Bush. Allen also makes a convincing case that the MIA issue was an important factor in the political rise of Ronald Reagan, which “marked the start of nearly three decades of Republican rule.” Allen lapses into needless academic jargon on occasion, but otherwise writes clearly and cogently in this valuable look at what he accurately calls a “strange” story. 28 illus. (Sept. 18)

Despite the convoluted title, this latest from award-winning British novelist and historian Strathern (Napoleon in Italy) is simply a good, straightforward history of Renaissance Italy during the turbulent decade around 1500, with emphasis on several important players. Pope Alexander VI, though not in the title, is the central player. Famously corrupt and ambitious, Alexander aimed to enlarge the Papal States and his family's influence, and his son, Cesare Borgia, led papal armies in three cruelly successful campaigns. The leading diplomat of wealthy but feeble Florence, Machiavelli worked hard to fend off Borgia, but admired his brutal realism, portraying him as the ideal ruler in his classic, The Prince. Both men knew Leonardo da Vinci, and Borgia employed him as a military engineer. However, da Vinci exerted no political influence, so the author's digressions into his art and ingenious (but mostly unrealized) inventions stand apart from the narrative. Readers will reel at this meticulous popular account of Renaissance tyranny, corruption, injustice and atrocities. 8 pages of color illus., b&w illus., maps. (Sept. 29)

Paul Dirac (1902–1984) shared the Nobel Prize for physics with Erwin Schrödinger in 1933, but whereas physicists regard Dirac as one of the giants of the 20th century, he isn't as well known outside the profession. This may be due to the lack of humorous quips attributed to Dirac, as compared with an Einstein or a Feynman. If he spoke at all, it was with one-word answers that made Calvin Coolidge look loquacious . Dirac adhered to Keats's admonition that “Beauty is truth, truth beauty”: if an equation was “beautiful,” it was probably correct, and vice versa. His most famous equation predicted the positron (now used in PET scans), which is the antiparticle of the electron, and antimatter in general. In 1955, Dirac came up with a primitive version of string theory, which today is the rock star branch of physics. Physicist Farmelo (It Must Be Beautiful) speculates that Dirac suffered from undiagnosed autism because his character quirks resembled autism's symptoms. Farmelo proves himself a wizard at explaining the arcane aspects of particle physics. His great affection for his odd but brilliant subject shows on every page, giving Dirac the biography any great scientist deserves. (Sept.)

Kaler, an emeritus professor of astronomy at the University of Illinois (The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Stars), examines a variety of celestial bodies from the perspective of their interactions with Earth. Kaler's writing is enthusiastic, and he conveys his own wonder and excitement at the myriad mysteries of the universe. His description of the effect of the sun and moon on the tides is thorough, as are his explanations of the source of the sun's energy and how an asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter was discovered. But Kaler's book is not for beginners: as he progresses through cosmic rays, comets, supernovas and even more spectacular massive star collapses that create hypernovae, his detailed style demands close attention (opaque sentences abound), a familiarity with sometimes difficult mathematical concepts and general familiarity with astronomy. Kaler offers a great deal of information, and his thematic approach—considering the interaction of the universe and our lives—is sound, but even readers with a sophisticated background in mathematics and science will be challenged by this book. (Sept.)

From Ziusudra of Sumer to Antonin Artaud and beyond, the essay in all its glory is on full display in this ingenious anthology. The title doesn't convey the volume's range—the spirit of factual expression, worked on by the imagination, transplanted into many times and in many cultures. This is a book to dip into or read through, certainly to savor for its diversity. The essay tent is wide, and under D'Agata's (Halls of Fame) editorship and astute eye it includes hybrid forms, from William Blake's “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell” through the prose poems of Aloysius Bertrand, Baudelaire and Mallarmé to a “performative essay” on Bob Marley by Kamau Brathwaite. Readers will be familiar with the aphorisms of Francis Bacon, somewhat less familiar with the eccentric virtuosity of Sir Thomas Browne and much more so with Jonathan Swift's “A Modest Proposal.” But readers are perhaps most likely to be turned on for the first time by the prose artistry of Matsuo Basho, the avant-garde musings of Clarice Lispector on the (not-so) simple egg and the obsessive documentarylike musings of Marguerite Duras. Overall, this imaginative international collection showcases the art of short nonfiction at its best. (Aug.)

A group of Afghan girls are introduced to soccer American-style in this subtly composed, eye-opening tale of cultural clash and transformation. The author—the director of the Afghan Youth Sports Exchange whose own family emigrated from Kabul to Connecticut when the Soviet-backed coup took over the country in 1978—first sponsored eight Afghan girls to come to America to play soccer for six weeks in 2004. Having been grouped informally as a team only recently back in Afghanistan, where girls were rarely encouraged to play sports, the girls spent six weeks at soccer camps in America—in Washington, D.C.; Connecticut; and Cleveland—playing soccer publicly for the first time. Ayub's account explores the diverse stories of the eight girls, who had lived through the recent nightmare era of the Taliban and in some cases were prohibited from attending school; excited and a little frightened by the attention they garnered in America, the eight girls ranging from 10 to 16 then had to return to their humble, war-town families with the hope they could use their newfound leadership skills to teach others. (Aug.)

In this intriguing biography, Leen (Kings of Cocaine) chronicles the life of “the queen of the mat,” Mildred Burke, women's wrestling champion and pioneer of the sport. Burke (1915–1989), along with her husband and manager, Billy Wolfe, are credited with having invented professional women's wrestling and bringing it to prominence: “Her muscles and his mind had made the industry of women's professional wrestling in America.” Their rise, fall and resurrection is a story as bizarre and titillating as wrestling's own carnival roots. The king and queen of “lady rassling” broke barriers despite a ban on women's wrestling in many states. Leen, managing editor for the Washington Post's investigations unit, deftly guides the reader through well-documented and researched accounts, which are culled from Burke's unpublished autobiography, interviews and numerous newspaper records. Leen writes: “Her speed and skill made her wrestling a thing of beauty in the ring, full of careful shifts of balance and swift and surprising combinations that turned the straining of muscle and limb into a ballet of grace and power.” Flavored with authentic speech and dedicated to accuracy, this biography is the tale of an underdog who triumphed. B&w photos. (Aug.)

At 14, the young Romagnoli, like any other Italian youth, marched to the beat of the Balilla, the Fascist Youth Organization in Italy. Not long after his days in his little squad, he realized the error of his ways and became a bicycle runner, secretly delivering books, pamphlets and other materials to members of the Resistance. Romagnoli, who died in 2008, at 82, and developed an affectionate following as a writer on Italian culture and cuisine (Italy, the Romagnoli Way: A Culinary Journey), warmly chronicles his coming-of-age in the midst of upheaval and conflict. This memoir covers 11 years in Romagnoli's life (from 14 to 25) and contains the outline of a portrait of the young man as famous artist. During his stint with the resistance, he meets a young American pilot named Bob, and with their insatiable appetites whetted by their hunger, the two dream of home by exchanging constantly their favorite succulent menus. Romagnoli reminisces, too, about first love; his forays into lust and sex with his neighbor; his fear of confession to the local Catholic priest; and the warmth and largesse of his extended family. In this heartwarming memoir, Romagnoli offers a picture of a young boy whose passions and longings for love, homeland and family abide with him as he turns quickly into an adult because of WWII. (Aug.)

Although Drape traveled to the Midwest to chronicle a record-setting high school football season, the tale he spins ends up being one that transcends athletics, a story of adolescence and smalltown life. Smith Center, Kans., is a sleepy locale 90 miles from the nearest McDonald's, a place with more windmills than people. But it's also home to Kansas's biggest football powerhouse, a team that entered the fall of 2008 with 56 straight victories and four consecutive championships. From the opening practice to the Redmen's final game, Drape flawlessly paints a picture of how Smith Center achieves perfection year after year. More importantly, he delves into the individual stories on the team: the tough but kindhearted coach who built a dynasty from nothing; the sure-fire college prospect; and the assistant coach's son, trying to live up to his father's legacy. All the while, Drape details the friendships he develops away from the field with the parents and other townspeople, and the mutual joy they bring the Redmen. With a clear sensitivity toward the difficulties facing the Smith Center players, along with more than a dash of humor, Drape gives the reader a team worth rooting for. (Aug.)

What is technology in its nature, in its deepest essence? Where does it come from? How does it evolve? With contagious enthusiasm, Arthur, an economics professor and a pioneer of complexity theory, tries to answer these and other questions in a style that is by turns sparkling and flat. Technology is self-creating, though it requires human agency to build it up and reproduce it. Yet technology evolves much like organisms evolve, and Arthur cannily applies Darwin's ideas to technologies and their growth. All technologies descend from earlier ones, and those that perform better and more efficiently than others are selected for future growth and development. But radical novelty in technology cannot be explained by this model of variation and selection, so Arthur argues that novel technologies arise by combination of existing technologies. For example, a hydroelectric power generator combines several main components—a reservoir to store water, an intake system, turbines driven by high-energy water flow, transformers to convert the power output to a higher voltage: groups of self-contained technologies—into a new technology. Arthur's arguments will likely alter the reader's way of thinking about technology and its relationship to humanity. (Aug.)

On Halloween in 2003, Host was given terrifying news: she had carcinoid tumor, a rare and deadly form of cancer . The wife and mother of three children (then ages 10 months, 11 and 13), who is now in remission, was given a prognosis of 18 to 36 months. In this heartfelt narrative, Host attempts to simultaneously fight the disease and find peace with the possibility of death while remaining strong and hopeful. The author describes the moments of comfort and joy she receives from those around her, but she doesn't flinch from the realities of life-threatening illness. Regarding one particularly harrowing hospital stay, she recalls, “I thought I had already earned my doctorate in pain, but it turns out I was wrong.” She finds humor among the indignities cancer patients must endure, writing, for example, “I should have known that, as a mother of three, the only possible way to get 12 uninterrupted hours of sleep would be surgery.” Host's honest depiction of her personal experiences also captures the universal aspects of cancer. In one of the book's entries, dated nearly two years after her initial diagnosis, Host recounts a conversation with a stranger, a fellow train passenger: “We have that instant connection that you make with someone who has suffered the loss that cancer can bring.” (Aug.)

“What makes Canada such fertile ground for talented artists?” When Canadian music journalist Schneider posed the question to Toronto-born guitarist Robbie Robertson, Robertson replied, “Must be something in the water.” Schneider's ambitious full-length study of Canadian musicians from Wilf Carter through the Band seeks to test that very potent water, and although the results are inconclusive, his study is sure to become a key piece in the survey of popular music history. Schneider introduces picked-over subjects such as Leonard Cohen with such nuanced attention to personal humanity, it is as if the author has revealed them to us for the first time. Schneider beautifully weaves in the complicated relationships, both professional and personal, of the various artists who have come to define the sound of 20th-century American popular music (yes, American). If Schneider's book does nothing else, it exposes the semantic futility of delineating popular music of the U.S. from that of Canada, be it Dylan's quintessential 1960s sound, courtesy of the Band, or the sound of 1970s California, as created by Neil Young, Joni Mitchell and the Mamas and Papas, Canadians all. (Aug.)

The year 1926 was a banner one for American sports: Jack Dempsey fought Gene Tunney in the biggest heavyweight fight ever, Bobby Jones won his first British Open title and second U.S. Open title, and Babe Ruth made a comeback for the Yankees by smashing home runs at a prodigious rate. On August 6 that year, Gertrude “Trudy” Ederle joined this company, thrilling the world by becoming the first woman to swim the English Channel. A fast swimmer, she bested the records already set by several men who had conquered the treacherous waters before her, and the U.S. festively embraced its new heroine with a ticker-tape parade on lower Broadway in New York City. America's enchantment with its young heroine soon faded, however, because the shy Ederle was uninterested in keeping up her public activities and appearances, and by the time she died in 2003 she had slipped into relative obscurity. Drawing on the massive archive of letters and newspaper articles that Ederle's niece, Mary, made available, AP sportswriter Dahlberg recreates the English Channel swim moment by moment. Dahlberg's pedantic prose and workmanlike account of Ederle's breathtaking feat, however, is as joyless as Ederle's swim was triumphant. Surprisingly, Ederle's almost forgotten feat is the subject of two other recent books, Glenn Stout's Young Woman and the Sea: How Trudy Ederle Conquered the English Channel and Inspired the World (Houghton Mifflin, June 2009) and Gavin Mortimer's The Great Swim (Walker, 2008). (Aug.)

This posthumous leadership guide by the acclaimed head coach of the San Francisco 49ers is a fascinating compendium of Walsh's philosophy, as compiled by his son and Jamison (coauthor of Wooden) from interviews and private notes. Interspersed with the coach–turned–leadership guru's insights into management are pieces by football greats Joe Montana and Randy Cross and former colleagues John McVay, Mike White and Bill McPherson. Walsh reveals a simple and strict philosophy that prizes people above all and focuses on core values, principles and ideals. His philosophy centers on three beliefs: organizational ethics are critical; everyone, regardless of their position, must perform at the highest possible level; and teaching should be a top priority for any leader. He shares his unique “Standard of Performance” and offers valuable advice on communication and priorities. Enlightening, informative and engaging, this powerful book is a must-read for executives and managers at every level. (Aug.)

In this exhaustive study of the credit card industry, Geisst (Undue Influence) delivers a scathing critique of the routine practices that led to the current consumer debt crisis. He details the origins of credit cards, a path pioneered by merchants bent on making loyal customers, including Sears Roebuck, which established a consumer credit business in 1911, followed by General Motors and Ford opening finance divisions to facilitate car purchases. The banks followed their profitable example, creating finance subsidiaries through their parent holding companies. The book highlights the sweeping financial deregulation in the 1980s and 1990s, the backdrop of the rise in credit card offers, adjustable rate mortgages and, ultimately, the current poor state of consumer financial affairs. Geisst calls for additional regulation of securitized financial products, the establishment of a consumer credit protection agency and reinstatement of usury laws to cap exorbitant credit card and adjustable mortgage interest rates. Given the crippling debt load that many Americans now carry, this important discussion of the troubling marriage of consumer credit and mortgage lending is long overdue. (Aug.)

The evils of industrial agriculture are rehashed in this impassioned but sketchy exposé. Food activist and blogger Richardson ticks off a familiar menu of food-system dysfunctions: overreliance on pesticides and fertilizer, exploited farmers and workers, horribly abused livestock, obese children who are fed subsidized junk food in school. (She personalizes her critique with reportage from a stint working at Whole Foods and recollections of a period in her life when a lack of access to fresh produce led her to gain weight on a diet of ice cream and beer.) She contrasts these ills with a vision of sustainable agriculture long on bucolic impressionism—“the baby lambs head-butted their mothers enthusiastically and wagged their tails”—and short on systematic analysis. The author's rabid advocacy of locavorism is especially myopic; she brushes past the costliness and impracticality—“When buying eggs I ask the farmer how many chickens they own and if these chickens are on pasture”—and ignores critics who argue that locavorism is an energy-inefficient fad. Only the choir will be convinced by Richardson's shallow take on these complex issues. (Aug.)

Passing references to water woes along the Colorado River and rainfall shortages in the Southeast that have cut hydropower pepper this dramatic report on the looming American (and global) water crisis. Workman filters his apocalyptic forecast through a slice of micro history: the (almost genocidal) 2002 decision of Botswana to force a minute population of Bushmen—inhabitants of the arid Kalahari Desert for tens of thousands of years—off their ancestral lands by sealing the only borehole that provided water to 1,000 desert dwellers and then dumping stored water into the dry sand. The heart of this numbing report on the government's use of water as weapon is Bushman matriarch Qoroxloo, whose ability to wring precious liquid from deep roots and animal carcasses is testament to a wise elder's gritty determination to help her band survive against formidable political and geographic odds. The author's belief that water-starved Western cultures might adapt to a “coming age of permanent drought” based on pragmatic Bushmen ways posits an unlikely cultural transformation, but his journalistic depiction of a tribal David's triumph over a governmental Goliath is riveting. (Aug.)

For many people, the idea of nuclear power died with the 1986 Chernobyl meltdown, but for the curious and open-minded, this book offers a timely look at nuclear technology that, the author argues, could provide plenty of cheap, renewable energy, if only we can get past our oversized dread of it. Mahaffey's history lesson begins along a familiar path, from 17th-century chemist Robert Boyle to the great 20th-century physicists. Nazism and WWII sent hundreds of scientists—and their cutting-edge work—to the U.S. But the war also sent that research underground in the ultra-secret Manhattan Project. Researchers also dreamed of “peaceful atoms” to generate electricity and run submarines, planes and rockets. The specters of Hiroshima and a few horrifying nuclear accidents displaced that peaceful vision. With a wealth of anecdotes, Mahaffey, a senior research scientist at the Georgia Tech Research Institute, offers hope leavened with pragmatism that, while nuclear technology may “be experimental forever,” it can still be useful and safe. (Aug.)

These are just three of more a dozen books celebrating the 40th anniversary of that 1969 love fest.

For three days in August 1969, half a million music lovers happily braved torrential rains, endured lack of food and clean water, and grooved to the cosmic blues of the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin, danced all night to the funky soul of Sly and the Family Stone and witnessed the birth of a new band called Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Held at Max Yasgur's dairy farm in Bethel, N.Y., the first Aquarian Exposition, or the Woodstock Music & Art Fair, grew far beyond the expectations of its creators. In this lively memoir, Lang, one of the festival's cocreators, retells the story—some of it already well-known—of the halting steps that he and his partners took to develop the greatest rock concert of all time. After a stint at NYU, Lang moved to Coconut Grove, where he opened a head shop and, with the help of some of his friends, organized Miami Pop in 1968, one of the first outdoor music festivals drawing major acts. Burned out on Miami, Lang headed to Woodstock, N.Y., to settle into the bohemian community of artists and craftsmen, and opened a recording studio. With a storyteller's verve and energy, Lang regales us with the tales of struggles with smalltown political leaders who opposed the festival, the kindness of Max Yasgur and the gargantuan task of feeding and taking care of a community the size of a large city. With the gritty insights of the ultimate insider, Lang weaves interviews with performers and others into his memoir, providing a glimpse of the madness, frustration, happiness and sheer euphoria that turned Woodstock into a memorable music festival. (July)

Introducing his engaging oral history, Fornatale, an author and longtime New York radio personality, admits that his attempt to parse fact from fiction regarding an endlessly mythologized pop culture milestone, the Woodstock Music & Art Fair, isn't always easy. It has been four decades, after all, and most of Fornatale's 110 sources spent that rainy August weekend in a hallucinogenic haze. But Fornatale does bring new stories to light, revisits old stories and dispels some common misperceptions. Among others, festival production manager John Morris reveals how close the festival came to being shut down by the National Guard; filmmaker Michael Wadleigh explains the choices behind his groundbreaking documentary Woodstock; original Sha Na Na guitarist Henry Gross tells drinking stories featuring Jimi Hendrix; and attendee Jim Marion reflects on leaving the festival early and disappointed. Fornatale lets his subjects carry the story, providing cogent artist histories and conversational segues in this vivid portrait. (July)

Having been talked about, written about, filmed, photographed and remembered in the hearts and minds of millions worldwide, Woodstock remains the seminal musical and cultural event of the last century. In this coffee-table tribute, Evans and Kingsbury offer a balanced, moving and chronological pictorial of each of the 31 acts from the three and a half days, beginning with Richie Havens and ending with Jimi Hendrix. In addition to a foreword by Martin Scorsese are numerous, firsthand accounts from concert-goers, crew members, farm hands and musicians like David Crosby: “It looked like an encampment of a Macedonian army on a Greek hill, crossed with the biggest batch of gypsies you've ever seen.” The book provides political and social context that led up to the “three days of peace & music.” Flower child or not, readers will come away with a tangible Woodstock experience (though perhaps without the smell). Color photos. (July)