Nonfiction Reviews: 9/14/2009

Investment adviser Farrell simplifies retirement savings. To make the process of preparing for the golden years less complicated—and less anxiety provoking—Farrell developed a series of simple formulas to help readers understand what they need to be saving based on age and household income, while taking as much of the irrational emotion out of the equation as possible. Swift calculations help readers understand how much they should be saving each year, how much to contribute to 401(k)s and IRAs, when to invest in real estate, how much education debt to carry, how to balance debt, how to calculate investment power and how to find a financial adviser for those situations that require a little extra help. Farrell keeps his readers on track—each decision boils down to what he calls the “Unifying Question:” “Will [x] help move me from being a laborer to being a capitalist?” By focusing on making readers' money work for them, and with the use of simple, clear numbers, Farrell does a wonderful job of taking the worry and stress out of number anxiety—no calculator necessary. (Jan.)

This companion volume to prolific Mallon's 1984 study of diaries, A Book of One's Own, surveys several epistolary subgenres, including friendship, advice, complaint, love, confession, war-zone dispatch and pleas from prison. A 25-year correspondence between Mary McCarthy and Hannah Arendt pleasurably mixes world politics and personal foibles, musings about the Eichmann trial with an unwanted pregnancy and literary gossip. Henry Miller bullied his patient publisher James Laughlin for 30 years (“Why should I compromise?... to please you?”); Florence Nightingale's angry, agitated letters from the Crimean War show a respect for the suffering soldier and a contempt for complaining nurses; E.M. Forster confides to a friend his homosexual initiation at age 37 by an Egyptian tram conductor; and Winston and Clementine Churchill's long correspondence blends patriotism, ambition and shared tenacity. They stand in marked contrast to the duke and duchess of Windsor's baby talk and self-pity. This smart, witty and lively account with excerpts of a not-yet-extinct literary genre will whet our appetites for published collections of letters—a selected bibliography is included—while motivating us to put pen to paper to rediscover a satisfying means of communication. (Nov. 10)

Fishkin reports that Mark Twain's career-long fascination with instinctual yet intelligent creatures inspired Chuck E. Jones's creation of cartoon icons Wile E. Coyote and Bugs Bunny. Fishkin, director of American studies at Stanford and a Mark Twain authority, showcases the humorist's shrewd observations of both exotic and common animals, including his nemesis, the housefly (“I would go out of my way, and put aside my dearest occupation, to kill a fly”). She contrasts intentionally educational yet humorous commentary with a brutally detailed exposé on cockfighting and a denunciation of vivisection. This collection of letters, stories, travelogues and personal recollections—some appearing in print for the first time—effectively juxtaposes witty morality with bitterness manifested in his later work in which he rails against microbes and an uncaring Creator after losing three children to illness. Fishkin presents a lucid opening essay and informative endnotes. Animal lovers and fiction readers alike will want to read this illustration of an unfamiliar facet of an American literary giant. The anthology succinctly represents Twain's admiration for the animal kingdom and relentless optimism in the face of human inadequacies. (Nov.)

With well-researched irony and straight-faced humor, British writer Katsoulis pulls the covers off of several notorious literary frauds, tracing the art of the Big Lie from Dionysius the Renegade, who wrote a fake Sophocles play that insulted his Stoic teachers, to more modern publishing pranks. Katsoulis writes of “the amazing lengths to which people will go to practice a deception, and the sheer nonsense gullible readers are willing to swallow,” posing a quest for fame or fortune as the motive behind such popular hoaxes as 1983's The Hitler Diaries. In the 1990s, Lex Cusack tried to raise his late father's reputation by asserting his father had advised JFK and claiming to have found shocking letters by the president among his father's paper; similarly, William Ireland in the 1790s sought his bibliophile father's approval with his faked Shakespeare documents. Katsoulis also blasts those who seek to make a profit on the suffering and death of the Holocaust in her blistering account of fake memoirs. For those intrigued by the notion of literary hoaxes, this is an entertaining guide. (Nov.)

When the International Astronomical Union voted in 2006 to evict Pluto from the roster of planets in our solar system, little did they expect the public outcry that would arise. Boyle, an award-winning science writer and the science editor at MSNBC.com, presents the issues regarding Pluto's status, both popular and scientific, in a winning fashion. After its discovery in 1930, the icy rock formerly known as Planet X was embraced by the public imagination, partly due to its status as “the oddball of the solar system”; no doubt having Walt Disney name a cartoon dog after it also helped. But as astronomers learned more about the solar system and the distant Kuiper Belt at its fringes, they realized that Pluto, with its lopsided spin and strangely tilted orbit was very special indeed. Now astronomers have identified at least five dwarf planets, or “mini-worlds,” orbiting our Sun. When the New Horizons spacecraft reaches Pluto in 2015, we'll know more about this “underdog of the solar system.” Even then, the furor is bound to continue. Photos. (Nov.)

Although denialists, according to Specter, come from both ends of the political spectrum, they have one important trait in common: their willingness to “replace the rigorous and open-minded skepticism of science with the inflexible certainty of ideological commitment.” Specter analyzes the consequences of this inflexibility and draws some startling and uncomfortable conclusions for the health of both individuals and society. For example, though every reputable scientific study demonstrates the safety of major childhood vaccines, opponents of childhood immunization are winning the publicity war; childhood immunizations are tumbling and preventable diseases are increasing, often leading to unnecessary deaths. Specter, a New Yorker science and public health writer, does an equally credible job of demolishing the health claims made by those promoting organic produce and all forms of “alternative” medicine. Specter is both provocative and thoughtful in his defense of science and rationality—though he certainly does not believe that scientists are infallible. His writing is engaging and his sources are credible, making this a significant addition to public discourse on the importance of discriminating between credible science and snake oil. (Nov. 2)

Gallentine, a film and video engineer and a lifelong space buff, tells tales about the exciting early days of unmanned space exploration in this sprawling account. From Sputnik through James Van Allen and his assistant George Ludwig's discovery, with a tape recorder, of massive amounts of radioactivity above the atmosphere, to the two Voyager missions with their gold-plated Rosetta stones, many lifelong space buffs will know Gallentine's story by heart. What makes his account special is the amount of access he had to Van Allen and Ludwig, who shared previously unknown details of their early collaboration. Gallentine is also very well informed about the movers and shakers in the Soviet space program and its epic achievements. Some readers may be put off by Gallentine's informal tone (his use of “egad” makes it sound as if he just stepped out of The Music Man) as well as by his re-creation of conversations and even thoughts. It would have helped, too, if Gallentine had tied past lessons to future space exploration. Nevertheless, many space buffs, especially young ones, should find this a satisfying narrative. 50 photos and illus. (Nov.)

How does national memory determine national heroes? Waugh, a UCLA history professor, probes the subject in an engaging study of the making of Ulysses S. Grant's reputation. At the time of his death in 1885, he was perceived as on a level with George Washington by former Unionists and Confederates alike. His memoirs were a bestseller. His image combined the honorable soldier and the generous victor: a heroic war leader who believed in the ideal of national reconciliation in both regional and racial contexts. Even Grant's flaws were part of his greatness, linking him to his countrymen in a distinctively American fashion. That image began to change as lost cause romanticism nurtured reinterpreting the Civil War as not merely tragic but arguably unnecessary. The eclipse of this approach has restored Grant's reputation as a general. Now his presidency is the target of criticism: corrupt, ineffective and above all incomplete in terms of the racial issue. Waugh convincingly interprets Grant as “symboliz[ing] both the hopes and the lost dreams” of the Civil War. But while that war remains our defining—and dividing—event, Grant's image, Waugh says, will remain ambiguous. 69 illus., 3 maps. (Nov. 15)

If we must have another presidential biography, best to have one of a figure who hasn't had his life written about at length for two decades. While the Wilson we find here differs little from the man we've known before, Cooper's new book is an authoritative, up-to-date study of the great president. Cooper (Breaking the Heart of the World), a noted Wilson expert at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, offers balanced and judicious assessments of the life and career of one of the nation's most controversial leaders. From his youth in Virginia, through his years at Princeton, then as New Jersey governor and president, Wilson faced thickets of challenges, not all of which he managed effectively. At the end, sick and weakened, characteristically stubborn and moralistic, he notoriously failed to gain American membership in the League of Nations. Yet Cooper, while sympathetic to his subject—a visionary and Progressive reformer in domestic politics—fairly records Wilson's Southern racism along with his keen intellect and political acuity. Wilson would come to be, Cooper concludes, “one of the best remembered and argued over of all presidents.” While not stemming any disputes, this book will please and inform all readers. 16 pages of photos. (Nov. 2)

Priestland, a lecturer in modern history at Oxford, delivers almost 700 pages of stormy history, but the pace never flags. Underlying the narrative is a nuanced understanding of communism as an ideology that took on different forms (romantic, radical, modernist) depending on local and historical context. But all were inherently unstable. According to Priestland, the Jacobins of the French Revolution planted the seeds of modern communism. They claimed to be building a modern state on principles of true, universal equality while treating those who disagreed as enemies of equality. In the following century, Marx proclaimed communism's scientific basis and the inevitability of global revolution. The 1917 Russian revolution caught everyone's attention, but despite universalist rhetoric, Soviet Communism became nationalistic and technocratic. This violated Marxist principles, but appealed to poor, rural nations after WWII. From Russia, Priestland moves to Latin America, Cuba and Africa, covering Communist guerrilla uprisings and urban terror, and the eventual lagging of economic development in the Soviet empire and China. The former collapsed and the latter has discarded Marxist ideology. Detailed and scholarly but written in lively prose, this is a rich, satisfying account of the most successful utopian political movement in history. (Nov.)

Elizabeth Hughes's is a small story, filled with the optimism of a 14-year-old with unbounded dreams. But there was nothing small about the discovery of insulin and the trials in August 1922 that saved Hughes and revolutionized the treatment of diabetes: patients “in a wretched, depleted state... brought back from imminent death” in what one researcher called “near resurrections.” Hughes lucked out: her father, Charles, as governor of New York and a GOP heavyweight, was able to get her into the original trial. Alternating the teen's painful, isolated childhood with the struggle of researchers hoping to save patients diagnosed with a then fatal disease, Cox (a historian at the University of the Pacific) weaves a compelling tale of commitment and discovery. Elizabeth “always had confidence in her future,” Cox writes, even as she withered away on a near-starvation diet—the only known treatment before insulin. Her saviors—including 1923 Nobel Prize winners Frederick Banting and John Macleod—ultimately reaped “fame, glory and prizes,” but found it tempered by bitterness and divisions within the team. Here is both a remarkable medical history and an inspiring lesson in hope. (Nov.)

In 1987, when Karz was 21 and dancing in the corps of the prestigious New York City Ballet, she began to suffer constant thirst and dizziness, frequent urination and oozing sores under her arms. After an initial misdiagnosis and months of denying the seriousness of her condition, Karz faced the devastating reality that, as a type 1 diabetic, she would have to take insulin injections for the rest of her life, check her blood-sugar levels at least 10 times a day and was at a high risk for infection and even amputation. Karz details the ups and downs of her childhood, illness and 16-year NYCB career, from a low-blood-sugar episode that almost derailed a performance in Copenhagen to dancing with George Balanchine himself at a School of American Ballet rehearsal; being cast as the Nutcracker's Sugar Plum Fairy; and her promotion to soloist six years after her diagnosis. Karz's prose is simple, and although ballet fans may wish for more insider gossip, Karz offers a satisfying portrait of a dancer making her mark at a competitive world-class company. Diabetics and athletes in particular will gain inspiration from her perseverance, acceptance and control of a debilitating disease. (Nov.)

In this ambitious biography, Wall narrates the history of a band that became one of the biggest musical and cultural phenomena of the 1970s. The brainchild of studio wizard Jimmy Page, Led Zeppelin marked the transition from flower-power good vibrations to the rough sounds of a disillusioned era. More than just another hard-rock band, however, Zeppelin drew on elements from reggae, soul, blues and R&B, as well as more exotic sounds from India and the Middle East. The trashed hotel rooms and violated groupies Zeppelin left in its wake helped to create an enduring rock and roll road archetype. Wall painstakingly traces Zeppelin's development and musical pedigree. His access and attention to detail make this a definitive work. However, he falls short in substance and style when he tries to move beyond the music. Flashback segments written from the perspective of the various principals are confusing, and his forays into nonmusical subjects—such as Page's interest in the occult—are often portentous. Nevertheless, this volume is an essential source for anyone eager to learn about the era when rock stars ruled the world. (Nov.)

Firsthand witness to the beat literary movement, Weaver (Antonin Artaud: Selected Writings) pays homage to the man and the writer Jack Kerouac, whom she met and fell in love with in 1956. Befriending Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg and comic Lenny Bruce, she makes these iconic counterculture figures tangible and captures New York's Greenwich Village of the '50s and '60s. The memoir reveals the author's own awakening—from discovering rock and roll through her personal sexual revolution to Buddhism. A lover of words and language, Weaver—immortalized in Kerouac's Desolation Angels as Ruth Heaper—writes this book “as an act of atonement” to Kerouac: “I rejected him for the same reason America rejected him: he woke us up in the middle of the night in the long dream of the fifties. He interfered with our sleep.” She moves from translator to writer, but states she is “uncertain whether it was the story of my own life or the story of the remarkable people I had known.” Ultimately, it's both. Photos. (Nov.)

As the economy tanked throughout 2008, magazine editor Colón began strategizing and was better prepared when she lost her job. At her mother's suggestion, she unearthed her grandmother's recipe file, and with it a greater sensitivity about a family history that spanned the hardest years of the 20th century. The resulting book is half cooking memoir with recipes, some more practical than others, and partly family chronicle, some personalities more resilient and dimensional than others. The menfolk, including the narrator's husband and her forebears are mostly given their due (though the disappearance of Colón's biological father is elided), but the story reads as a substantial homage to a strong matriarchal line, from the author's own determined persona and voice to the prominent and similar roles played by her mother and her maternal grandmother. The narrative has ample Working Girl spunk and shifts deftly if quickly among stories and decades and geographies. (Nov.)

Williams, the men's basketball coach at the University of Kansas (1988–2003) and at the University of North Carolina (2003–present), describes his personal and professional path to a Hall of Fame coaching career and two national championships. Ignored by his abusive, drunken father and raised primarily by a cash-strapped, saintly single mother, Williams paid for his college education at UNC by officiating intramural sports. When Dean Smith, that school's legendary basketball coach, offered Williams a low-paying job on his coaching staff, Williams accepted and sold calendars and delivered videotapes to TV stations to feed his family. As a head coach, Williams's dedication extends to landing recruits and running organized, thorough practices. And he's done all this while maintaining a cohesive family life. (He's married to his college sweetheart.) Well-intentioned and upbeat, the book treads the familiar ground of glossy, inspirational sports biographies. Williams recalls passionate speeches, great players (i.e., Michael Jordan, James Worthy) and various anecdotes from the coaching life, but never delivers consistent insight on the workings of a successful coach at two legendary sports programs. However, the book is redeemed by Williams's genial (and borderline hokey) tone and the forthright revelations of his tumultuous childhood and early days coaching in high school and college. 16-page photo insert. (Nov.)

Old-school newspapering comes alive in this scintillating memoir. Anglo-American journalist Evans (The American Century) reminisces about his rise up the ladder of English newspapers to its pinnacle as editor of the Sunday Times and his late-career hop across the ocean to run Condé Nast Traveler and the publisher Random House. The author depicts British journalism as a more rugged affair than the American version; editor Evans dodges British laws that permit prior restraint of news stories by the government, gets sued by the Irish Republican Army and battles a thuggish printers' union that he hates even more than he does his boss, Rupert Murdoch. America presents its own unique hardships, including protracted discussions with Marlon Brando over acquiring his memoirs, during which the blowsy thespian accuses Evans of being a CIA agent. Evans creates a lively, evocative portrait of 20th-century journalism: the mad deadline pressure of the copy-desk, stocked with Dickensian characters; the epic investigative pieces that make reporting a kind of spy craft; the obsessive pull of editorial crusades against official wrongdoing. Written with self-deprecating humor and quiet conviction, this is a fine valedictory for a heroic style of journalism one hopes still has a future. Photos. (Nov. 5)

In the wake of Phish's wildly successful summer reunion tour, journalist and Rolling Stone contributor Puterbaugh delivers a consistently lucid and revelatory look at the 26-year-long career of the legendary “jam band.” Puterbaugh's solid and intelligent take on how Phish blends both seriousness and whimsy into rock, jazz, funk, country and experimental music (sometimes in the same song) will satisfy newcomers as well as the band's obsessively knowledgeable fans. In the process, Puterbaugh definitely demolishes the media's “reflexively drawn” comparisons of Phish to the Grateful Dead just because both played long improvisational concerts for hardcore fans. Much of the book's success stems from Puterbaugh's experience as in-house PR writer for the band from 1995 until its 2004 breakup. His insider access allows him to get never-before-published comments and insights from the band, its management, archivists, crew and close friends. His solid reporting produces the best account so far of Phish's college-era birth and growth in Burlington, Vt. And his exclusive interview with Trey Anastasio provides a frank look at how the guitarist's drug addiction brought down the band, how his recovery led to their reunion and why “there's no reason that Phish couldn't go on for quite some time.” (Nov.)

Actor Orbach (Law & Order), who died in 2004, wrote hundreds of poems to his wife, Elaine. During predawn hours before filming, he scribbled on sheets torn from a page-a-day cat calendar. Awakening alone, she found poems by her coffee cup: “I would read and enjoy each one, then toss it into the big soup tureen given to us by producer David Merrick.” After years, the tureen overflowed. When Orbach's poems were read at his funeral, several suggested she do a book. Along with biographical chapters, she puts the poetry in context, explaining relationship references and showbiz buzzwords in a marriage memoir many will find appealing. The poems are all light verse, and more than a few could be labeled ultralight verse. Orbach had a penchant for playful rhymes, and he could be clever, as in this poem about film locations: “Today I've a pickup at 7:45 / in less than a hiccup / I'm at Riverside Drive!” / Then Zabar's for coffee / and back down to here / on West 52nd, the QE2 pier!” Orbach's love for his wife is evident throughout these cheerful, lyrical tear sheets, a calendar of cats chased by doggerel. (Nov. 3)

Thousands of miles from home and in a culture equally distant from his own, Rudiak-Gould's first night on the island of Ujae made him lonely “to the point of physical pain.” Yet after only a few weeks in the farthest outreaches of the Marshall Islands, the author “overcame boredom almost immediately,” bringing the reader along on an equally gripping journey of one year in one of the most remote, fascinating places on Earth. Rudiak-Gould, a volunteer English teacher, came to Ujae knowing little about the Marshallese language and even less about its culture. Yet as he became more familiar with his surroundings and the native tongue, he found a community that eventually saw him as one of their own. Nearly every aspect of Ujae is dissected, from its horrific educational standards to the drastic differences in their respective social systems and the eclectic array of Marshallese food (Rudiak-Gould describes one dish as “liquid flatulence”). Rudiak-Gould also lets the reader in on his own personal struggles in dealing with children (and their parents) in a place where corporal punishment is encouraged. At the same time, he becomes adept at Marshallese activities like spearfishing, allowing him to contribute to a “culture based on survival.” Alternatively hilarious, emotional and thought provoking (Rudiak-Gould analyzes the potentially catastrophic effects of global warming on the low-lying area), the book is an eye-opening look into a beautiful yet harsh paradise far from the reaches of tourism. (Nov.)

The charismatic and contentious Zizek (The Sublime Object of Ideology) turns his versatile intelligence and acute ear for irony to a critique of contemporary capitalism. Given the recent financial crisis, Zizek argues that it is now “impossible to ignore the blatant irrationality of global capitalism.” He sifts through recent history to reveal how capitalist ideology functions to defend the system against any serious critique, despite its manifest flaws. He draws a sharp line between liberalism and the radical left, showing how the socialization of the banks—and socialism itself—is actually aligned with the preservation of capitalism rather than inimical to it, and derides “socially responsible” ecocapitalism as another avatar of a bankrupt system. Zizek concludes with a new articulation of “The Communist Hypothesis,” setting socialism and communism as antagonists and presenting a utopian vision that relies on breaking out of the structures and strictures of statism and the markets. An earnest and timely challenge, Zizek's critique of capitalism and repositioning of communist thought is both insightful and well-reasoned, and guaranteed to rile readers across the political and theoretical spectrum. (Nov.)

Starting in 2007, Benjamin, a senior fellow at the nonpartisan think tank Demos, and, more significantly, an African-American, spent two years traveling through America's whitest communities—patches of Idaho and Utah and even pockets of New York City—where, according to his research, more and more white people have been seeking refuge from the increasingly multicultural reality that is mainstream America. There's plenty of potential in this premise, but Benjamin writes without any sense of purpose, alternating between undigested interviews with policy experts, self-indulgent digressions on the pleasures of golf and real estate shopping and sketchy portraits of his subjects. Despite Benjamin's countless conversations with everyone from Ed Gillespie, former head of the GOP, to a drunk in an Idaho bar, he never offers any fresh insights or practical suggestions. He concludes by barraging the reader with a series of unearned “musts”: “we must revitalize the public sector,” “we must work hard for a new universalism.” If his time in the nation's whitest enclaves gave him any specific thoughts about how those ideals might be achieved, he would have done well to share them. (Nov.)

Gardner (Pay Any Price) finds the roots of a fractured and turbulent Middle East in American machinations in the decades following WWII. He begins with the Truman Doctrine, whose goal of Soviet containment focused American power designs in the Middle East and whose parsing of strategic interests as a “global ideological struggle” enabled an “imperial presidency” and the vast allocation of military spending—hallmarks of 21st-century American foreign policy. Rather than plodding through successive American presidencies and their attendant policies, Gardner homes in on two key events in U.S.–Middle East relations—the 1952 Egyptian revolution and the 1979 Iranian oil crisis—and keeps his readers rapt and focused on the current relevance of these episodes. He weaves together anecdotes, congressional hearings and historical accounts to illustrate how the U.S.'s carefully pursued aim of creating a “sphere of influence” in the Middle East has fomented the unrest in Iran, a fraught Saudi reign and the Israel-Palestine crisis. An erudite, persuasively argued and lucid primer for both the layperson and the expert. (Nov.)

Like a postcard home, Maslin's debut entertains but doesn't inform. The author went to Iran against the better advice of nearly everyone he knew and discovered a country full of hospitable people who seem to want nothing more than to get him another cup of tea. “I almost felt surprised,” he writes, “that the sun was still shining on this side of the border,” and it's with obvious delight that he discovers cultural peculiarities: two types of knockers on the doors in the city of Yazd, for instance (one to announce a male visitor, the other for females), or the ongoing use of the qanat, a 3,000-year-old irrigation system (though he's somewhat less enamored of the deep-seated Iranian affection for Irish singer Chris de Burgh). Unfortunately, Maslin's narration is awkward, and while he does provide background information, he doesn't provide sources, leaving the reader to wonder if the occasional small inaccuracy is just that or signifies a larger problem. This book is best read for its surprising snapshots of a culture largely misunderstood in the West; hard facts and analysis are better sought elsewhere. (Nov.)

Inspired by the generosity of everyday Americans in the aftermath of 2004's tsunami, Smith, a longtime fund-raiser for nonprofits, winnows through the “muddle of hyperbolic language found in fund-raising letters” to explain how even the smallest, seemingly insignificant gifts to charitable organizations can make huge differences. Sobering statistics address the four critical issues of hunger, health, education and access to tools, technology and infrastructure as Smith explains how forgoing an inexpensive luxury just once a week—and donating the corresponding few dollars—can fix a bridge, feed a child or bring clean water to a family, possibly redirecting lives in an entire Third World village or U.S. city. Cultural mythology says that pocket change doesn't make poverty change, but Smith's research proves otherwise: small donations make a difference around the world and at home, and giving is psychologically beneficial to donors. This book occasionally devolves into maudlin appeals, but it is redeemed by its positive premise and practical approach. (Nov.)

Cottrell (Monday Morning Mentoring) continues his leadership series with this latest installment on generating positive energy at work. He identifies five key energy conductors leaders can utilize: synchronization, speed, communication, customer passion and integrity, and offers examples of how these concepts work together in an organization. Cottrell explores why motivation flags and how effective leaders can keep energy and productivity high. He also includes suggestions on how to identify energizers and sappers, build a dynamic organization and keep it in sync, adjust organizational strategies and create a culture of integrity. Each chapter ends with a summary of key points, discussion questions and a to-do list. Practical and informative, this book will inspire leaders and give them tools essential for motivating their teams. (Nov.)

While Abigail Adams has always been viewed as one of the most illustrious of America's founding mothers, University of Richmond historian Holton (Unruly Americans and the Origins of the Constitution), drawing on the rich collection of Adams's letters and other manuscripts, paints a strong-minded woman whose boldness developed in the context of the revolutionary era in which she lived. Holton offers a captivating portrait of a reformer both inside and outside the home. Best known for exhorting her husband, John Adams, to “remember the ladies” in devising America's new political system, she also, Holton has discovered, wrote a will leaving most of her property to her granddaughters, in defiance of the law that made her husband the master of all she owned. Furthermore, she was a businesswoman and invested her own earnings in ways John did not always approve of. Tracing Adams's life from her childhood as the daughter of a poor parson to her long and sometimes uncertain courtship with John, her joys and sorrows as a mother and her life as the wife of a president, Holton's superb biography shows us a three-dimensional Adams as a forward-thinking woman with a mind of her own. (Nov. 3)

“We're through being cool,” Devo announced back in 1981, and Gioia contends that the rest of America has slowly caught up. Describing “cool” as a set of “beliefs, values, and behavior patterns” rooted in the personal and musical styles of Bix Beiderbecke, Lester Young and Miles Davis (with a healthy dose of Bugs Bunny), Gioia argues that while their ironic detachment once held sway, earnestness has made its way back on top. His narrative history of cool hits intriguing touchstones, such as Lee Strasberg and Frank Sinatra, while a time line appendix provides even more cultural referents—for the new sincerity as well, culminating with the arrival of Susan Boyle and Twitter. At times his explanations for how “trendy loses out to homespun” can be reductive, as when he offers the boom in motivational self-help books for teen readers as evidence of a postcool generation. Sometimes it's downright confusing: anime and manga are presented as “quintessentially uncool” with only the barest of explanations. Gioia's conversational tone breezes through such rough patches, however, and though one might welcome more historical context for the long-running tension between cool and uncool as coexisting movements in American culture, he's at least zeroed in on a major shift in the balance between the two. (Nov.)

The media industry is facing multiple financial and operational crises on an unprecedented scale. Rampant overpaying for acquisitions and “strategic” investments make incompetent corporate leaders as complicit in media's decline as the difficult economy. The authors, professors at the Columbia Business School, focus their sights broadly but home in on the usual suspects—Ted Turner, Rupert Murdoch, Disney and an alphabet of flailing companies (e.g., TBS, CNN, TNT). They discuss the dilemma of new media vs. old, the difficulty of establishing efficient operations, mergers that worked and mergers that didn't, and attempt to debunk any number of media myths, most assiduously the “content is king” platitude—considering especially that the movie, music and book industries are all floundering. An interesting subject in theory, but this treatment has the feeling of a homework assignment rather than an exposé and plods along to its meandering conclusion at a snail's pace. Dull writing and a complete lack of human interest detail make this a tough read and a tougher sell. (Oct.)

The authors of this data-rich study about the mystery of the disappearing honeybee, dubbed colony collapse disorder (CCD) since first noted in 2006, consider an array of contributory causes, from invasive mites and the advent of monoculture to pesticide ingestion and urban sprawl. But the collapse, they suggest, likely has no single culprit and can be rolled into an overarching reality—stressed honeybees, now trucked in dwindling numbers across the continent, have been pushed to the point of collapse “so that the global agricultural system can keep producing cheap food.” The numbers are daunting: one-third of everything Americans eat, from nuts and onions to berries and broccoli, depends on nature's master pollinator; 800,000 colonies representing billions of bees died mysteriously in 2007, and one million vanished in 2008. Continuing CCD could cost the American economy $75 billion, and if CCD continues unchecked, there could be a world without bees by 2035. Benjamin and McCallum, beekeepers both, cover much the same ground as previous books (A Spring Without Bees; Fruitless Fall), but bring the added emotion and urgency of passionate apiarists. (Oct.)

Goldhagen expands the controversial argument of his bestselling Hitler's Willing Executioners to indict the world in this relentless j'accuse. His comparative study surveys a panorama of modern atrocities, encompassing the Holocaust, the Soviet gulag, Cambodia, the Rwandan and Darfur genocides, and even Harry Truman, a “mass murderer” who “should be put in the dock no less than Stalin [and] Pol Pot” for the atomic bombing of Japan. Goldhagen's elaborate concept of “eliminationism,” complete with a two-dimensional matrix of “Types of Excess Cruelty” (is the action ordered or not? individually or collectively performed?) is similarly broad, comprising massacres along with nonlethal expulsions and repressions; in his hectoring, incantatory prose (“Think of hearing your victim's screams as you hack at or 'cut' her and then cut her again, and again and again”), it's less a theory than a nomenclature for cataloguing human devilry. As in Executioners, Goldhagen convincingly disparages bureaucratic “banality of evil” explanations of genocide and spotlights the ideologies of leaders who exploit ordinary citizens' hate-filled beliefs to instigate mass murder. It's not easy reading, but Goldhagen's vehemence and the sheer weight of horrors that he recounts move one's conscience. Photos. (Oct.)

Arguably the most influential evangelical in America, Warren gets full biographical treatment by Sheler, former religion writer for U.S. News & World Report and author of Is the Bible True? Sheler leaves no rock unturned in Warren's life and uncovers much about what drives the founder and leader of the 22,000-member Saddleback Church in Orange County, Calif., who has trained pastors in a network of 10,000 churches in 162 countries. In offering a behind-the-scenes look into the making of a megachurch and its pastor, Sheler paints in rich detail Warren's boyhood and family life—including such personal episodes as a tragic honeymoon and his depression. The author is careful to show diverse opinions about Warren, including those who believe the pastor, initially very green in international relations, allowed himself to be used by interests that oppose U.S. foreign policy. Sheler includes the story of Billy Graham's blessing and his apparently passing the mantle of America's pastor to Warren. For Americans who believe that's an important role, this book is a vital biography to have on the shelf. (Nov.)

Defending the Christian religion against Greco-Roman paganism, the early Christian writer Tertullian once famously asked, “What indeed does Athens have to do with Jerusalem?” In his thoughtful, judicious and provocative new book, New Testament scholar Johnson answers, “Plenty.” Drawing deeply upon Greco-Roman literature, Johnson isolates four ways of being religious in the Greco-Roman world: the way of participation in divine benefits, the way of moral transformation, the way of transcending the world and the way of stabilizing the world. He illustrates each type of religiosity with a sketch of a Greco-Roman writer or text. Johnson then places this template of religiosity on the Christianity of the first through fourth centuries to illustrate how deeply embedded Greco-Roman patterns of religion influenced and contributed to the growth of Christianity. Johnson's careful and compelling approach avoids both the apologetic and the antagonistic tones that such conversations about early Christianity and Hellenistic religions often take. (Nov.)

While the subtitle could imply grandiose theorizing, Smoley (Forbidden Faith), the former editor of the journal Gnosis and a specialist in esoteric religious thought, has written a commendably modest book. In it, the sacred Vedas of Hinduism meet Western philosophers puzzling out causation, God, the nature of reality and other questions that have given philosophers and theologians of the East and West something to think about for the past few millennia. This history of thought predates contemporary neuroscience and its exciting discoveries about the relationship between brain and mind. It also reaches across the West-East spiritual divide (monotheistic, personal religion versus impersonal, nondual religious thought) to look at patterns, associations and categories that different cultures at different times have used to make sense of the world and the challenges offered by events of the world to human needs for justice and orderliness. This is a serious, almost old-fashioned history of ideas about transcendent and human thought rather than a cheesy come-on about how your thoughts can make you rich, beautiful and successful. (Nov.)

The brain physiology associated with spiritual states has been fertile ground for researchers and writers alike. Neuropsychologist andmeditation teacher Hanson suggests that an understanding of the brain in conjunction with 2,500-year-old Buddhist teachings can help readers achieve more happiness. He explains how the brain evolved to keep humans safe from external threats; the resulting “built-in negativity bias” creates suffering in modern individuals. Citing psychologist Donald Hebb's conclusion that “when neurons fire together, they wire together,” Hanson argues that the brain's functioning can be affected by simple practices and meditation to foster well-being. Classic Buddhist concepts such as the “three trainings”—mindfulness, virtuous action and wisdom—frame Hanson's approach. Written with neurologist Mendius, the book includes descriptions and diagrams of brain functioning. Clear instructions guide the reader toward more positive thoughts and feelings. While the author doesn't always succeed at clarifying complex physiology, this gently encouraging “practical guide to your brain” offers helpful information supported by research as well as steps to change instinctive patterns through the Buddhist path. (Nov.)

This laudable effort to make the Catholic faith understandable and appealing to young adults labors mightily to sound hip and cool, but it suffers from an oversimplified style that could alienate more thoughtful young seekers. In their attempt to take the Catholic faith down to the basics, Stoltz and Tomkovicz, both deacons in the archdiocese of Los Angeles, write in a way that may strike some readers as rudimentary. For example, in the introduction, they use a footnote to explain their subsequent use of footnotes. The authors also seem uncertain about the age group they are addressing. While “young adult” typically refers to collegians and recent college graduates, the introduction at one point suggests the audience may be raising children and thus would be slightly older. The book's positive features include its organization into short chapters with sidebars, the inclusion of a glossary of terms and treatment of questions like “I read The Da Vinci Code. Don't the facts in this book show Christianity is a lie?” The authors also effectively use cultural references to convey some points. This book will work best for those who know lots about culture and little about Catholicism. (Nov.)

Bestselling author McGowan (The Expected One) calls the Lord's Prayer “the most powerful tool for changing your life—and changing the world—that you will likely ever encounter.” McGowan offers a unique perspective by pairing the prayer with the rose with six petals, the middle point of the labyrinth in the floor of Chartres Cathedral. The six petals and the middle coincide with the teaching points of the Lord's Prayer, which McGowan exegetes with depth and personal insight, based in part on the miracle of her son, who was expected to die as an infant but survived. Each section—faith, surrender, service, abundance, forgiveness, overcoming, love—taps into McGowan's premise that the Lord's Prayer is the source of faith, love and forgiveness and “in combination, those things are the source of very real miracles.” She draws heavily on the Bible as well as such sources as the gospels of Philip and Mary Magdalene; some may quarrel with her definition of evil as “the failing of your own nature.” Many readers, however, will discover new depths and dimensions in the age-old Lord's Prayer. (Nov.)

Long, a homiletics professor and well-regarded preacher, argues that funerals have become spiritually “impoverished” and need revitalization. Providing a comprehensive review of the history, traditions and theology of Christian funerals, Long notes that recent decades have seen both growing comfort with cremation and an increased preference for disembodied memorial services offering “closure.” In defiance of this trend, Long argues that just as bodies are present for baptism and weddings, they should be present for funerals. Long laments that eulogies celebrating individual lives often replace gospel preaching and advocates instead that liturgies emphasize a community's conveyance of a beloved's body to its final resting place, “worshipping as they go.” Delineating the purposes of a good funeral, Long urges clergy and congregations to embrace funerals as opportunities to “act out one more time the great and hopeful drama of how the Christian life moves from death to life” and from baptism to resurrection. This book promises to be a welcome theological resource and practical guide for pastors and others who care for the dying and officiate at Christian funerals. (Oct.)

Curtis, a religious studies professor and authority on Islam in America, has authored a fine and succinct history that spans centuries. He hits all the major chronological points and historical details of Muslims living in North America, including notable tales of African slaves who maintained their religion despite great hardship. Curtis has literally combed through every record imaginable, including, for example, a 1939 Works Progress Administration–funded interview of Mrs. Mary Juma, a Syrian homesteader in North Dakota, in assembling this very readable history. Unmatched for its breadth of sources, this is also one of the few books in the field to cover both immigrant and indigenous (African-American) American Muslims. One of the strongest sections chronicles American Muslim condemnation of terrorism after 9/11, a condemnation largely unnoticed by the greater American community. Although geared toward non-Muslims, American Muslims would also learn a great deal from reading about their own history. Photographs, chronology, edited selections from chosen narratives, and a Further Reading Section provide useful jumping-off points for the reader, who will undoubtedly be intrigued by Curtis's compelling little read. (Oct.)

Successful magazine travel writer Maxwell didn't intend to write a book about spirituality. The author of books on golf, fishing and other nature adventures claimed an “allergy to religion,” yet spirituality seemed to find her anyway. After stumbling upon a lovable pig farmer/spiritual teacher, the self-proclaimed spiritual klutz finds herself wading through adventures with auras, demons, psychics and Jesus. In this book, Maxwell catalogues 16 years of spiritual experiences. The reader is taken through her quest for peace and understanding as she discovers that, regardless of the path, all religions call for loving others. Maxwell draws on religious symbolism from all world religions and quotes everyone from C.S. Lewis to Ramakrishna; the book is essentially spiritual and syncretistic. Readers who find Maxwell more superstitious than authentic should still appreciate her distinctive writing style. Her training as a nature writer allows her to see an experience from the outside in a way inward-looking spiritual writers often cannot. Her cheeky-to-chaste style is both conversational and controlled. Readers will enjoy watching this “former spiritual dodo-brain” discover beauty beyond nature. (Oct.)

Soon after his international bestsellerWhen Bad Things Happen to Good People appeared in 1981, Kushner stopped being a congregational rabbi in order to devote full-time to writing and lecturing. Conquering Fear, his 12th book, is the latest result of this concentration. It is a popular theology primer designed to help readers grapple with common problems of suffering, significance, disappointments, guilt, forgiveness and conscience. Although traditional Jews object to Kushner's view of suffering as reflecting God's limited capacity to control the hazards of life, his books have won general acclaim. The fears that Kushner tackles include terrorism, natural disasters, rejection, growing old and death, among others. His recommendations for coping require trust, religion, hope, courage, faith; he also urges living with purpose and differentiating between God and nature. Some readers may find Kushner's prescriptions to be inspiring; others will see them as banal platitudes. A useful idea he offers about fear of terrorism is “be alert but not frightened, vigilant but not paranoid.”Perhaps his least helpful advice is about the fear of death: “The most important thing to remember is not to be afraid.” (Oct.)

Women who feel they need a Rosetta stone to interpret their husbands' behavior no longer have to be frustrated. Psychologist and media personality Leman channels his years of professional counseling experience into easy-to-follow, common sense advice for wives. While never placing blame on women for their husbands' poor behavior, the author does believe that wives can encourage their husbands to be better partners by altering some of their expectations. One expectation that should never be altered, however, is that of mutual respect. Leman does not mince words about what to do with men who continually disrespect their wives—“dump the chump” is his advice. Specific questions from wives are peppered throughout, followed by the author's sage feedback. Some may feel Leman puts too shiny an interpretation on the aspects of husbands' behavior that infuriate women the most by suggesting that men really do want to please their wives but are often clueless as to how to do this. A wife can only know for sure if she gives the author's five-day plan a try. (Oct.)

A bestselling author for his popular explorations of the lands of the Bible, Feiler turns his attention to the biblical figure of Moses in U.S. history. He argues that the story of the life of Moses as told in the book of Exodus has been the dominant metanarrative employed by political and social leaders in shaping America's identity, from the Pilgrims escaping religious persecution to the civil rights movement with its vision of a Promised Land. A journalist rather than a historian, Feiler approaches his subject using the same formula he has employed in previous books: physical walks through historic sites and interviews with experts. Although the book offers snippets of interesting anecdotes, the approach is uncontroversial and the book lacks forward momentum. Feiler is a popularizer, and readers interested in a light and cursory treatment of a theme in U.S. history will enjoy it. Readers wanting a more in-depth and critical understanding of the subject may want to look elsewhere. (Oct.)

With the protraction of higher education, delays in marriage and childbearing, and extended financial support from parents, “emerging adults” (or “EAs,” ages 18–23) enjoy unprecedented freedoms. What does that mean for their spiritual formation? Smith, a veteran sociologist of religion, and Snell, of the Center for the Study of Religion and Society at Notre Dame, draw on statistical samples and more than 200 in-depth interviews to craft a compelling portrait of college-age Americans. This generation, steeped in religious pluralism, gets high marks for inclusivity and diversity awareness but has troubling consumerist tendencies, consistently prioritizing material wealth and devaluing altruism. Not surprisingly, EAs are less religious than older adults and than they themselves were as teenagers—which comes home especially poignantly in a chapter of follow-up profiles on some of the interview subjects from Smith's 2005 book on teen spirituality, Soul Searching. Surprisingly, however, EAs are not significantly less religious than emerging adults of prior generations. Although the book is heavy on survey data, tables and sociological typology, it's well-organized and seasoned with enough memorable interviews that lay readers will value it as much as specialists. (Sept.)

The author of the bestselling Crazy Love pleads passionately for the church to live by the power of the forgotten God: the Holy Spirit. Calling Christians to more than just a better life, Chan says he wants to live a life unexplainable without the Holy Spirit, so dependent on the Spirit that, he says, “if he doesn't come through, I'm screwed.” He offers vivid personal stories and illustrations about how the church ought to help Christians discern the powerful gifts of the Spirit, rather than toning down radicals. Biographies of people “keeping in step with the Spirit” conclude each chapter. Not a comprehensive study but intended for application, it consequently lacks depth of context in most Bible references. Ultimately, though, this serves Chan's aim to end ceaseless talk and follow God's lead to assist the poor, the abused and anyone without hope. Chan himself has given all royalties from Crazy Love to a ministry to children trapped in sex trafficking, explaining that God said to him, “I want you to love them as your own children.” Chan's voice is fresh, earthy and fiery. (Sept.)

[Signature]

Reviewed by Joyce Carol Oates

This is a work of narrative nonfiction in which I attempt to tell the story of a landscape—Gloucester, Massachusetts's Dogtown.” The author's succinct description of her fascinating, richly detailed and remarkably evocative exploration of a long-deserted colonial village amid a 3,600-acre woodland doesn't do justice to the quirky originality of Dogtown. Part history of a most unusual region; part commentary on the art of the American Modernist painter Marsden Hartley; part murder mystery/true crime police procedural; and part memoir, East's first book is likely to appeal to a varied audience for whom “Dogtown,” Mass., is utterly unknown.

East was initially drawn to Dogtown through the landscape paintings of Hartley—a gifted and undervalued contemporary of Georgia O'Keeffe, Arthur Dove and John Marin. Led to investigate the landscape Hartley painted, East soon finds herself, like the protagonist of a mystery, ever more deeply involved with the colonial ruin—is it a place of mystical wonder, or is it an accursed landscape? In colonial times, Dogtown was a marginal area of Gloucester said to be a “haven” for former slaves, prostitutes and witches; in the 20th century, it was largely abandoned and became a sort of uncharted place where, in a notorious 1984 incident, a mentally deranged sex offender murdered a young woman teacher in the woods.

East is thorough in her descriptions of the attractive young victim and the loathsome murderer—a devastating portrait of the type of predator of whom it's said “he would never hurt anyone.” Though the true crime chapters—which alternate with chapters presenting the tangled history of Dogtown—are inevitably more interesting, East gracefully integrates her various themes into a coherent and mesmerizing whole.

In her admiration for Hartley, East kindles in the reader a wish to see his works, as well as the allegedly “mystical” landscape that inspired them; it would have been a good idea to include color plates of some of Hartley's work, juxtaposed with the landscapes. Also, the true crime chapters—written with appalled compassion—and the detailed portraits of individuals involved—the murderer, the victim, the victim's husband and his family, several police officers—would benefit from photographs as well. Late in Dogtown, as if the author's inventiveness were flagging and her material running thin, there are digressions into local politics that will be of limited interest.

Dogtown is surprisingly spare in personal information. We learn only a few facts about the engaging young writer whose life was so changed when she first saw Hartley's paintings that, five years later, she was led to the adventure of Dogtown, which would involve her for 10 years. This is most unusually self-effacing, particularly in our rabidly confessional times. Some readers will appreciate the author's vanishing into her subject, which is certainly strong enough to stand alone, while others might feel an absence in this evocation of, as Hartley described it, “one of these strange wild places... where the chemistry of the universe is too busy realizing itself.”

Joyce Carol Oates's latest novel is Little Bird of Heaven (HarperCollins/Ecco).

Three books revisit our founding documents

This probing commentary on America's founding documents by constitutional historian Rakove (winner of a Pulitzer for Original Meanings) begins with a long essay on their historical and political background, stressing their ideological innovations. His detailed exegeses unavoidably lose some thematic coherence while elucidating the Declaration as a work of propaganda (considerably overstating George III's despotism, notes Rakove) and the Constitution's murky political compromises. Rakove is a constitutionalist—but he's palpably dissatisfied with the Constitution we've got. Among other complaints, he says amending the Constitution is so difficult, we passively interpret it instead of remaking it to suit our evolving purposes. Rakove's is a lucid, thought-provoking guide to the contents—and discontents—of our national charters. 34 b&w illus. (Nov.)

Inspiring, but also vague, eccentric and sometimes dysfunctional: that's the picture of the Constitution that emerges from this annotated guide. Lipsky, founding editor of the Jewish Forward and the defunct New York Sun, writes extended notes on every phrase in the Constitution and amendments, including obscure elements like letters of marque and reprisal. Citing commentators and landmark Supreme Court cases, he gives an evenhanded account of evolving interpretations of the Constitution and its influence on governance and politics. Lipsky's own predilections show mainly in his resurrection of the anti-Federalists and modern-day defenders of state sovereignty. While highlighting the Constitution's quirks, Lipsky says little about larger issues like the Senate's unequal representation of voters. This is a lively curio shop of Constitutional law and lore, but lacks analytic depth. (Nov.)

Rather than a cloistered priesthood interpreting a sacred text, the Supreme Court is a canny group of political operators, argues this fascinating revisionist constitutional history. NYU law prof Friedman lucidly chronicles the Court's fraught relationship with presidents, Congress and the states, who have defied, threatened and rejiggered the Court when its rulings offended them. The Court has nonetheless made itself felt, Friedman argues, by cultivating powerful constituencies and aligning with prevailing winds: it became the handmaiden of Progressive-era industrialists and now reliably (and for the good, Friedman thinks) locates the moderate consensus on vexed issues like abortion and gay rights. Friedman offers a fresh, dynamic rethinking of the role of the Constitution and the Court that puts democratic politics at the center of the story. (Oct.)