Nonfiction Book Reviews: 10/12/2009

In an argument against capital punishment, Dow’s capable memoir partially gathers its steam from the emotional toll on all parties involved, especially the overworked legal aid lawyers and their desperate clients. The author, the litigation director of the Texas Defender Service and a professor at the University of Houston Law Center, respects the notion of attorney-client privilege in this handful of real-life legal outcomes, some of them quite tragic, while acknowledging executions are “not about the attorneys,” but “about the victims of murder and sometimes their killers.” While trying to maintain a proper balance in his marriage to Katya, a fellow attorney and ballroom dancer, he spells out the maze of legal mumbo-jumbo to get his clients stays or released from confinement in the cases of a hapless Vietnam vet who shot a child, another man who beat his pregnant wife to death and another who killed his wife and children. In the end, Dow’s book is a sobering, gripping and candid look into the death penalty. (Feb.)

In this honest memoir, Lemon, the author of two collections of poetry (Mosquito; Hallelujah Blackout), was a carefree, hard partying, baseball-playing college student at Macalester College in Minnesota in 1997 when he suffered a stroke and later two brain bleeds. Readers are swept along on his rough ride during the next two years, through his nasty travails of frenetic drug and alcohol use, terribly misguided attempts to cope with his deteriorating and frightening condition. Often he is mean and uncaring to those around him; at other times he is confused and scared. He drops into a dark depression, a cruel fate for a young man, who was known on campus by the nickname of Happy. Ultimately, he undergoes brain surgery. Lemon offers a raw and honest narration of his college life, his relationships with girlfriends and family members, especially his loving and quirky mother. He dissects his repressed inner demons and recounts his continual struggle to regain his emotional and physical health following his operation. The result is a voltaic narrative that is alternately horrifying and touching. (Jan.)

A young staffer in the Clinton White House when the Monica Lewinsky scandal broke, Parker Aab effectively re-creates the heady excitement of working among powerful personages in the upper echelons of government. A native of suburban Detroit and then an 18-year-old scholarship student at George Washington University, Aab née Parker possessed sterling credentials in civil and community service when she was selected to intern during the summer of 1993 for George Stephanopoulos’s press office in the Old Executive Office Building. She answered the reams of fan mail that poured in and trained the other interns; her job eventually led to a staff position, as well as work doing presidential advance planning, which entailed traveling with Clinton’s team and booking overnight accommodations. Tall and attractive, Parker soon learned where the power resided, e.g., with men such as Vernon Jordan, who offered professional advice freely over meals. When the Lewinsky details erupted in January 1998, Parker and her office under Paul Begala felt betrayed, though somehow unsurprised. Her memoir is well polished, and despite a few suggestive anecdotes about Vernon and Clinton, is mercifully free of salacious revelations. (Jan.)

Despite its title, this insightful examination of the impact domestic politics has had on American foreign policy actually begins with the Spanish-American war. Zelizer (Taxing America) traces changing attitudes toward foreign engagement through WWI, including Wilson’s failed advocacy for the Treaty of Versailles and the League of Nations, and arrives at the cold war era, his principle focus. His key themes are the competition between the Republican and Democratic parties for electoral advantage on issues related to international affairs and the expansion of executive authority that began with the Korean War in the Truman administration and continued intermittently through the George W. Bush era. The author emphasizes foreign policy throughout, devoting mere paragraphs to major domestic events like the Kennedy assassination and the contested presidential election of 2000. Zelizer’s excellent analysis concludes with charting the rise and fall of conservative internationalism from Reagan to the election of Barack Obama, advancing a consistently thoughtful, complex and balanced argument about the decisive effect domestic politics has had on the evolution of the national security state. (Jan.)

This uneven compendium of primary sources on the Iraq War grew out of a course that the editors taught at Long Island University, where all are political science professors. The hundreds of documents—an eclectic selection ranging from official government documents to op-ed pieces, press releases and religious fatwas—are organized “around the key analytical theme of preemptive war,” and the editors introduce each chapter with an interpretive essay with a clear political bent: they roundly condemn Bush for cynically exploiting the tragedy of 9/11 and regard the invasion as a tactic to gain access to Iraq’s oil, a move that has effectively “destabilized international politics, brought chaos to the Persian Gulf, strengthened international terrorism, devastated Iraqi society, damaged the U.S. economy, threatened its democracy, and made the United States an international pariah.” As rigorously as the authors make their case, their reluctance to seriously engage with dissenting views might ensure that the collection will find an appreciative audience only among the converted. (Jan.)

Cox (The Goal) and consultants Jacob and Bergland collaborate for this unholy marriage of business strategy and fiction. Amy Ceolara is distressed when it’s announced that her company, Hi-T Components, is becoming a subsidiary of the competitive corporate monster Winner Inc. For the flimsiest of reasons, Amy is named interim president and is responsible for turning the flailing company around through a mix of three quality management and improvement programs: (1) “Six Sigma,” which calls for reduction in variation and thus the elimination of errors and defects, (2) “Lean,” which produces a reduction in waste and (3) the “Theory of Constraints,” which claims that every system is made up of resources that each have varying limits, and the performance of the total system is constrained by whatever resource is the most limited. Though her team initially struggles, victory is eventually hers. Terrible puns (characters are named “Peter Winn” and “Dr. Viktor”) and frequent complimentary reference/product placement of the authors’ previous book The Goal team up with dry writing to create a truly stultifying experience. (Jan.)

Lord, a public health historian, argues that the U.S. government has spent the past 90 years trying to give Americans frank sex education, but the power of religious groups and Americans’ own squeamishness in admitting to having premarital sex has thwarted public health officials for nearly all of that time. After an informative, pithy explanation of the origins of the modern Health and Human Services Department and the surgeon general post, Lord documents the government’s sex education efforts, successes and failures decade by decade, in chronological, rather than thematic order. By slogging through a chronological account of sex education, she skips over the opportunity to consider why Americans have had such trouble talking not just about sex education, but about sex itself, and how that unease is at the core of this country’s ambivalence over “aggressive and candid programs promoting sex education” for teenagers. The book functions, at best, as a desk reference, a year by year catalogue of government policy, rather than a substantive discussion of the modern history of American sex education. (Jan.)

Keating collects poems, essays, prose and commentaries by Anzaldúa, revealing the public figure—the pathbreaking queer Chicana writer—as well as a sensual and deeply spiritual iconoclast. Anzaldúa’s voice emerges—defiant, mercenary, passionate and unapologetic—as she writes her seminal Borderlands/La frontera while teaching in Vermont, an environment so alien it brought her closer to her roots; as she becomes one of the first to teach Chicano literature to her students; as she compiles the classic feminist anthology This Bridge Called My Back. The book is punctuated by Anzaldúa’s simple drawings, exercises in deconstruction and reconstruction of identity. Her writings capturing her relentless fight to avoid being stereotyped and to empower women of color within and without academia are rich and various, exploring everything from gender, memory and oppression to sex in the afterlife. (Jan.)

As the first female winner of TV’s The Biggest Loser, Vincent lost 112 pounds, about 47% of her body weight. As she explains, she shed unhealthy habits and gained an enthusiastic approach to life. She writes, “[I]t’s an accomplishment that fuels all of my future goals.” Vincent’s story is one that will be familiar to readers: someone who, despite being an athletic, popular high schooler, by her early 30s was “just kind of letting life happen to me—I didn’t feel worthy of wanting anything more for myself.” Once she became a contestant on the show (with her mother as her partner), she wanted to win; she shares her strategies for losing weight, navigating the show and engaging more in life. Readers looking to slim down will find lots of helpful tidbits. They’re not revolutionary (“don’t let the scale rule your life,” “don’t get in a workout rut”), and though Vincent’s penchant for platitudes can be grating, her earnestness and enthusiasm is clear. Includes recipes and before-and-after photos. (Dec.)

Caron went from Parisian ballerina to Hollywood movie star at 17, when Gene Kelly tapped her for a co-starring role in the 1951 hit An American in Paris. She became a star in the studio system of that era, and via her MGM contract shared billing with Fred Astaire and Cary Grant by day and socialized with Judy Garland and Lena Horne by night. It’s been a glamorous life, but, as Caron reveals, not without struggles. She grew up in occupied Paris, her father a French chemist, her American mother a former dancer. Caron never felt good enough for her parents: “The path to excellent was clearly indicated, and my insecurity became chronic.” Despite her success, she points to insecurity as the root of her decision to date or marry and divorce several controlling men, including meat-packing heir George Hormel II and actor Warren Beatty, with whom she had an affair in the 1960s. Caron provides countless dishy details about her exploits, which are sure to entertain film buffs, Caron fans and aspiring actors. Today, the 78-year-old two-time Academy Award nominee acts in the U.S. and Paris; in 2007, a role on Law and Order: SVU garnered a prime-time Emmy. Caron also runs an auberge, or inn, in France and, she writes, intends to avoid fading into the background. (Dec.)

McCracken (Flock and Flow), a research affiliate at Convergence Culture Consortium at MIT, argues that every company needs a chief cultural officer to anticipate cultural trends rather than passively waiting and reacting. CCOs should have the ability to process massive amounts of data and spot crucial developments among an array of possibilities; they will be able to see the future coming, no matter which industry they serve, and create value for shareholders, move product, create profit and increase the bottom line. McCracken provides an impressive list of individuals deeply connected and in tune with the zeitgeist including Steve Jobs, A.G. Lafley, Mary Minnick, Joss Whedon and Johnny Depp—who fought Disney in order to create a campy male lead in the Pirates of the Caribbean movie—as well as such corporations as Starbucks and Nike that have “refashioned culture.” McCracken’s case is persuasive, and his book, peppered with pop culture references and enlivened by his restlessly inquisitive nature (and ability to strike up conversation with just about anyone), makes for enlightening and entertaining reading. (Dec.)

Born Irish Catholic in upstate New York, Knight converted to Islam as a teenager and wrote an influential underground novel, The Taqwacores, about young Muslim-Americans struggling to integrate their religious beliefs with an affinity for beer and the Sex Pistols. His latest, a stream of consciousness chronicle of his pilgrimage to holy sites in Pakistan, Syria, Ethiopia, Egypt and Saudi Arabia, resembles nothing so much as the archetypal American road novel complete with a harrowing episode of cannabis-induced psychosis, a breezy tone (“I spent two months in Faisal Mosque in Islamabad, doing the madrassa thing and considering jihad in Chechnya”) and indifference to whether the reader can follow his references (if you aren’t acquainted with Muslim history and terminology, you would be well-advised to stay within close reach of Wikipedia). He probes and prods the boundaries of his faith with unabashed emotion and honesty, even questioning, near the end of his journey, whether he really understands anything about Islam. But the book is most engaging when he turns his gaze outward to make pithy observations on the intersection of religion and global capitalist culture (he describes Saudi Arabia as the “Wal-Mart of Islam”). (Dec.)

With a decidedly political focus, these lively and candid conversations from the early 1970s between the famed French philosopher and his godson are a fascinating glimpse into Sartre’s efforts to reconcile existentialism with Maoism and his own increasingly revolutionary leanings. That Gerassi (Jean-Paul Sartre) is clearly on close personal terms with his subject is always apparent, and this allows for wonderfully frank accounts of Sartre’s childhood, various affairs and women, as well as asides about his drug use and bizarre, recurring hallucinations of crabs. The author incessantly returns to political questions, examining Sartre’s various left-wing commitments, his views on Soviet Russia, Cuba, the Israel-Palestine conflict, in addition to the broader questions of how social conscience relates to art and whether a doctrine of absolute individual freedom can be made compatible with Sartre’s emphasis on collective action. This can make for repetition and occasional tedium that could easily have been remedied by more disciplined editing and a less ideologically strident framework. Still, as a document of both the thinker and the man, the volume paints a revealing picture of a restless mind in profound engagement with the philosophical and political crises of its time. (Dec.)

With 40 essays that span an impressive array of academic and popular approaches, this book is the first to collect the essential texts of the blossoming discipline known as fat studies, which explores why the oppression of fat people remains acceptable in American culture. As contributor Bianca D.M. Wilson notes in her piece, fat studies is an arena where the personal, political and scientific converge, and with this book, readers can mount an informed challenge to the medical construction of obesity and size, the diet industry, insurance companies, public policy and popular culture. Arranged thematically, the essays survey the “social and historical construction of fatness,” “fatness as social inequality” and even “size-ism in popular culture and literature.” While one essay points out the North American biases of the current state of fat studies, new cross-cultural work would do well to attend to this volume first. It may be too soon for the movement to offer utopian alternatives, but these essays offer a rich supply of tools for the activist and scholar willing to start the revolution, including a “fat liberation manifesto.” (Dec.)

Siegel (Parenting from the Inside Out) combines Western neuroscience with Eastern meditation in an exciting exploration of how a troubled mind can right itself. Drawing on current science and case studies, Siegel, a clinical professor of psychiatry at UCLA School of Medicine, reinforces “the idea that the power of reflection allows us to approach, rather than withdraw, from whatever life brings us.” And learning to stay with a feeling, even a threatening one, is the beginning of discovering that this emotion is just “a set of neural firings in our brain.” There is enormous pain in the clinical cases: 31-year-old Allison’s back pain conceals a painful memory; 12-year-old Sandy is stuck in a panic expressed in obsessive-compulsive behavior. But there is also enormous hope—that therapy, sometimes even without medication, can guide a patient through life. Siegel’s method isn’t a quick fix and doesn’t sugarcoat reality: The mindful traits of serenity, courage and wisdom involve accepting our place in the order of things.” He challenges his patients to a life of tough work and convincingly suggests it will be well worth the effort. (Dec. 1)

On the 150th anniversary of his death, the great British historian Thomas Babington Macaulay (1800–1859) remains an enigmatic character, steeped in contradictions between his actions, his proclamations and his interior life. The latter is not Sullivan’s central concern. Thus, the concealed love Macaulay felt for his two youngest sisters is not far developed here. Sullivan concentrates instead on Macaulay’s uncanny understanding of England’s grand position in the world. The author observes that “long before Henry Kissinger, [Macaulay] understood that 'power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.’ ” What makes him a unusual figure for our time is his classicism—his chief models being Herodotus, Thucydides, Tacitus—as well as his position as a bestseller with a multivolume history of England. Macaulay’s literary interests included Milton, Dryden, Byron and Bacon, but Machiavelli was the overriding influence, says Sullivan, a historian and associate vice president of Notre Dame. Macaulay detested Dickens for his socialistic smarminess; he anticipated Ivan Pavlov more than Sigmund Freud; and he was an abolitionist who didn’t believe in abolishing slavery. Overall, Macaulay remains a confounding figure, whose personality lies largely unraveled. 18 b&w illus. (Dec.)

When we talk about Darwin and his theory of evolution, we must talk about the five-week visit to the Galápagos Islands in 1835 that helped foment that theory. Naturalists Grant and Estes are longtime researchers and residents of the Galápagos. They bring to this account of Darwin’s adventures their intimate knowledge of the islands, enabling them to identify sites Darwin visited that previously were in doubt or misidentified. We often forget that much of Darwin’s early fame was as a geologist. Grant and Estes describe in detail the islands’ geographic and volcanic features as well as their many unique species of birds, reptiles and plants, both in Darwin’s time and today. The book is in part a study of the decline of an ecosystem through the introduction of invasive plants and animals and how humans can undo the damage they have created. The final chapters on Darwin’s career after leaving the Galápagos are slightly hurried, but all fans of the great scientist will find this an engrossing account of what was probably the most important period in his life. 201 color illus., 73 b&w illus., 4 maps. (Dec.)

Part mystery, part biography and part nuclear physics primer, Magueijo’s book takes readers through an investigation into the melodramatic life, work and bizarre disappearance of a troubled young physicist after he boarded a ship in Palermo on the cusp of WWII. A “twisted prodigy raised by domineering parents, Majorana (born 1906) became one of the Via Panisperna boys, a group of raucous young physicists nurtured by fission pioneer Enrico Fermi. Majorana discovered a subatomic particle called the Majorana neutrino, but refused to publish any papers and so never got credit for his discovery. Magueijo’s examination of Majorana, aided by interviews with his living relatives, reveals a troubled, confounding man whose disappearance has inspired as many conspiracy theories as the Roswell incident. Whether Majorana committed suicide, joined a monastery, or ran off to Argentina, whether he deserves a Nobel Prize (if he’s still alive somewhere) as Magueijo, a theoretical physicist at Imperial College, London (Faster than the Speed of Light), insists, it’s clear his life and approach to his work were both singular and outrageously strange. Photos, illus. (Dec.)

Might-have-beens haunt this insightful narrative of a watershed in the history of Nazi Germany. MacDonogh (After the Reich) chronicles milestones in the development of a radicalized, expansionist Third Reich in the year 1938: the forcible annexation of Austria and the Sudetenland, the Kristallnacht pogrom and the purging of opposition figures in the government, army and church. He portrays these events not as an unfolding master plan but as a series of gambles by a sometimes chaotic Nazi regime plagued by infighting among Hitler’s satraps, Wehrmacht coup plots, a collapsing economy (the Anschluss was motivated partly by a need to plunder Austria’s treasury and raw materials), and jitters about foreign reaction. The Führer perseveres with theatrical bullying and nervy improvisations that are matched by the Western powers’ appeasement; a tragic theme of MacDonogh’s story is how easily a determined resistance, from within Germany or without, might have derailed Hitler’s initiatives. Another is the callousness of the international community; much of the book follows the travails of Jews who faced closed doors when the Reich was eager to expel them. This well-researched, fine-grained study sketches the moral rot that made possible Hitler’s rise. Photos. (Dec.)

As climate change continues to shrink Arctic winter ice fields, the polar bear faces extinction possibly by the end of the century, a stark reality wrought vivid by prolific science writer Ellis (Tuna) in this well-sourced geographical, historical, cultural, political and environmental overview. One of the largest land predators in the world, the great white bear—hunted almost to the brink of extinction decades ago, and after a population rebound reduced again to an estimated 22,000—has become the “poster child” for global warming. A dramatic reduction in permanent, year-round ice is inhibiting access to seals, its almost exclusive food source, and as natural prey becomes elusive, bears are resorting to cannibalism. Ellis, rendering complex science engagingly simple, peppers his authoritative assessment of ursine plight with interesting tidbits—bears and primates are the only bipedal mammals, for example. And despite an undeservedly fearsome reputation for savagery, the polar bear is in fact much less dangerous to man than man is to the bear, writes Ellis, as he pays impassioned homage to “a great white spirit.” Photos. (Nov.)

Following up on Doo Wop: The Music, the Times, the Era, this retrospective celebrates the rock scene of the 1960s and early 1970s. Legendary deejay Morrow and Maloof, former editor-in-chief of Guitar, note the eruption of drugs, radicalism and freakery into rock during the 1960s, but politely spare us the juicy details we expect from a man with the kind of all-access pass Morrow had. Morrow makes prim reference to the Doors’ “controversy-courting frontman” Jim Morrison and to Ozzie Osbourne’s reputation “as a very strange person.” Morrow does highlight the Beatles’ first performance at Shea Stadium in 1965—which he himself emceed. The screams of 55,000 fans were so loud that Ed Sullivan nervously turned to Morrow and asked, “Is this going to be dangerous?” The authors include sidebar appreciations of individual bands and illuminate, through their photographic documentation, the apocalyptic changes in, among other things, men’s hair styles during the 1960s. Descriptions of pop culture symbols—the 1965 Mustang; Batman TV series; The Graduate—help put perspective on the music of the era. The authors cover everything, from the British Invasion (Rolling Stones, Yardbirds, etc.) to Motown (including the Supremes and Martha and the Vandellas), ending with the Doobie Brothers, Allman Brothers, Steely Dan and Pink Floyd. (Nov.)

Anthropologists don’t often write books that wrap around their own lives, yet the newest book by Seattle Pacific University professor Adeney stops short of memoir and opts instead for a visceral call to Christians worldwide to engage in something bigger than their own culture and church. Adeney’s travel and teaching have taken her to many countries, and she weaves stories from African countries, China and primarily Hindu and Muslim countries with piercing insights into the heart of global cultures. Her work can be read by adherents of any religion as a primer to a new view of world Christianity. She acknowledges that Jesus’ teaching and discipleship can grow within Hindu, Muslim and Buddhist cultures without missionary methods that bring cultural baggage that can detract from the gospel. She instances a Korean missionary group in Afghanistan that practiced methods of evangelism known to provoke angry responses; they were taken hostage. Best practices for particular cultures can prevent such disasters. Not primarily a book about American Christians and what they should do, this is a humble and complex anthem to the diverse kingdom of Christ found in worldwide cultures. (Dec.)

An entertaining narrative voice, personal reflections from the author’s life and insightful interpretations combine to produce this accessible and lively new addition to Genesis scholarship. Coats, a former parish priest and management consultant, cogently applies “source theory”—the hypothesis that four separate documents went into the first five books of the Bible—to familiar stories whose “ethical and spiritual DNA” seeps through Western culture. Through his approach, the author makes complex biblical scholarship comprehensible, while challenging the reader to examine the actual text. Asserting that biblical characters are “rather relentless in their mirroring,” Coats uses second-person hooks (“Imagine yourself as the first human being”) to invite readers to use their own perspective to interpret the text. Cheeky chapter headings entice and inform; “First, about the ark, which is most definitely not a boat” begins his analysis of Noah and the flood. While cultural references from Maimonides to Mae West spice up the narrative, Coats’s exploration of how his own history and self-understanding inform his interpretations makes the most compelling reading. His reflections on his own aging and his analysis of the stories of Noah and Abraham prove compelling and thought provoking. (Nov. 17)

People who think psychics are bogus won’t touch this book, but the uncommitted, the curious and the convinced will find something they didn’t know in the newest by prolific bestselling author and psychic Browne (Psychic Healing). The book’s premise is a can’t-lose proposition that bolsters Browne’s trustworthiness: yep, says the psychic author, some psychics really are frauds, and I’ll tell you how to spot them. One chapter debunks the notions of possession and curses and offers information on tricks mediums can play. Browne knows what she knows and offers a whirlwind tour of world religions as background for a more in-depth presentation of spiritualism and practices—and practitioners—of divination using various means. The author also tells the story of discovering her own psychic powers, writing about the paranormal in a disarming commonsense way. Browne’s view of an afterlife as “home” makes death less fearsome for a death-averse culture. This book is particularly good for those who are curious about the psychic trade, because it covers so much ground. (Nov.)

Editors of the Shambhala Sun magazine have culled writing from Buddhist luminaries to address the fear and suffering affecting many lives. This collection includes excerpts from older works as well as more recent essays. Contributors reflect the dominant forms of Buddhism in the United States: Tibetan (including His Holiness the Dalai Lama and the late Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche), the vipassana movement (Sylvia Boorstein, Joseph Goldstein), and Zen (Shunryu Suzuki Roshi, Zoketsu Norman Fischer). “Buddhist practice does not offer an end to change, loss, or even pain,” magazine editor-in-chief Melvin McLeod writes. “What we can change is the way we react.” Emphasizing the basic Buddhist tenet of accepting impermanence, contributors examine many facets of fear and offer such tools as mindfulness, faith, patience, humor, and loving-kindness to promote healing. Particularly acute are Matthieu Ricard’s meditations on optimism and Jack Kornfield’s parsing of the misunderstood concept of desire in Buddhism. Containing 33 essays, this book should be dipped into rather than read cover to cover because of the repetitiveness of its themes. No raging against fate in this compendium of gentle wisdom. (Nov. 10)

Inspirational author Schuller offers readers who want to respond to adversity with, and through, faith a fine primer on pressing toward God despite pain and problems. Schuller, whose newest ministry is the television and Internet outlet ComStar Media, shares with readers the circumstances of his painful departure from leadership at the Crystal Cathedral founded by his father, Robert H. Schuller, and explains how this life-altering detour caused him to re-examine the foundations of his faith. Stronger from the experience, the author encourages fellow Christians to seek out God especially when life is darkest and confusion greatest. Readers will find solid resources: practical suggestions as well as numerous inspirational stories of real men and women who successfully faced down the giants in their lives. Schuller specifically addresses such issues as guilt, shame, regret, anxiety, disappointment and fear. In each chapter he offers fresh perspective, renewed hope and fresh faith tools for those going through hardship, as well as strong reminders that God is always present and never fails. (Nov.)

Macomber, one of today’s leading fiction writers with more than 100 million books in print, walks a new path with this nonfiction title. “I’ve just got to share the news,” she says of her book on generosity. “Intentional acts of generosity can open our lives to the very best God has to offer.” Macomber builds her book on the biblical story of Jesus’ multiplication of five loaves and two fishes, a miracle recorded in all four gospels, using her storytelling prowess to retell the tale. She then takes readers on a journey through the true meaning of generosity (and it’s not about cash): encouragement, good deeds, forgiveness and believing the best. She also delves into giving, listening and hospitality, and dips into what generosity means when it comes to Christmas, caregiving and prayer. The theme, Macomber says, is, simply, to offer what you have. She fills out her chapters with real-life stories, suggestions for “Simple Acts” and brief “Discovery” sections. This is a useful, inspiring study of an underpracticed art, written by one who has received, given and witnessed generosity. (Nov.)

The humanist chaplain at Harvard University offers an updated defense of humanism in response to the belligerent attacks on religion put forward by such new atheists as Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris and Christopher Hitchens. Epstein’s approach to religion is respectful, and for the most part, friendly. He sees liberal Christians, Unitarian Universalists, Jews and spiritual self-help gurus, such as Oprah Winfrey, as natural allies of humanists—though at times he seems impatient for them to admit they no longer believe in a transcendent God. A student of Sherwin Wine, the late rabbi and founder of Humanistic Judaism, Epstein’s humanism is rooted in his mentor’s essentially Jewish formulations. His most impassioned argument is with megachurch pastor Rick Warren and other evangelicals who believe secularism is the enemy and a moral society impossible without a belief in God. While such an argument may be needed, Epstein’s book is marred by redundancies and a lack of organization that suggests it was hastily put together. (Nov.)

In this collection of sermons, essays and speeches, author and longtime Unitarian minister Church lays out a framework for a 21st-century universalist faith. Contrary to popular opinion, he says, universalism is the most morally rigorous of theologies because of its call to “respect and even embrace otherness, rather than merely to tolerate or, even worse, dismiss it.” The son of a senator, Church makes a nuanced argument for the role of spirituality in politics, and argues that the story of America is a narrative of “gradual moral progress, in which deed begins to approximate creed.” As with many such collections, this volume at times feels too dated (in chapters focused on Terri Schiavo, the Oklahoma City bombing, and Y2K), too local (in sermons given to his congregation) and too oral (in jokes that were surely funnier when spoken aloud). Yet considering that Church has terminal cancer and thought his previous book, Love and Death, would be his last, such imperfections fade. An acclaimed minister’s erudite and perhaps final treatise against theological parochialism, what he calls “our era’s most dangerous dysfunction,” this book is an essential read for anyone interested in liberal religion. (Nov.)

Of the thousands of inspirational books published, it seems most revolve around the age-old question, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” Raynor’s work is no different. Instead of filling chapters with theological hand waving, however, Raynor, a graduate of Harvard Divinity School and a hospice chaplain, offers a simple solution. There is no good answer, she concludes, but we can soothe each other’s pain by simply sharing our own stories of grief. After an introductory chapter, the author proceeds to do just that. What follows is a triptych of personal essays categorized into first, her hospice experiences; second, taking the midnight shift as a chaplain at Ground Zero after September 11; and third, being diagnosed with breast cancer. Though there is no single message weaving through each chapter, Raynor emphasizes the strength of friendship and power of a listening ear. Readers will enjoy the author’s accessible and elegant prose as well as the power behind her personal encounters with grief. The book is not a theological tour de force, but never claims to be. Its simplicity is the strength behind its eloquent comfort. (Nov. 17)

Legendary peace activist Berrigan examines the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy through the lens of his personal abhorrence of war in this biblical commentary. Although Deuteronomy is largely the code of laws given to the Jewish people, Berrigan, a Catholic priest, finds something more—a prophetic justification for excoriating those who choose the “other god” of warfare. Employing poetry and free-flowing streams of prose, he weighs the choice Christians face between Deuteronomy’s story and the New Testament gospel. “An interminable debate ensues,” he writes. “Which deity to serve?” Too often, he concludes, the choice becomes the “god” of war, whether by secular leaders claiming to be Christian and blinded by the “idols” of defense, prosperity or national interests or by bishops who endorse the military actions initiated by political leaders. Berrigan observes that a “close connection between crime and consequence” runs through Deuteronomy, and he strongly suggests that by going along with the “culture of death” in the matter of war, Christians may see their religion rotting before their eyes. Thought-provoking reading will be of special interest to those sympathetic to Berrigan’s uncompromising political views. (Nov.)

It’s unusual to discover an engaging, detailed and affecting manual delineating a Christian approach to alleviating global poverty. That’s what Greer and Smith have given readers in this resource-rich guide to how individuals, businesses, churches and denominational groups can use the basics of microfinance—the provision of financial services to the poor—to partner with communities and find “employment-based solutions with proven results for effectively reducing poverty and extending the kingdom of God.” Greer, president of the Christian relief organization HOPE International, and Smith, a retired businessman and philanthropist, are enthusiastic realists, aware of the challenges facing those who are severely poor; the difficulties, new skills and patience required in churches that want to be catalysts for change; and the complexities of partnering with corporations that may have other, sometimes conflicting, agendas. The book works in large part because of the real-life experience, passion and dedication that both men, who write different chapters, bring to the table. Their biggest achievement may be helping to push skeptical readers off the fence about the potential of religiously funded microfinance—and giving interested parties plenty of practical tools to get started. (Nov.)

Taking up where he left off in Before the Dawn (2006), an engaging examination of human evolution in light of explorations in the human genome, longtime New York Times science reporter Wade deftly explores the evolutionary basis of religion. He draws on archeology, social science and natural science as he vigorously shows that the instinct for religious behavior is an evolved part of human nature because, like other human social traits that have evolved over many thousands of years, the practice of religion conferred a decided survival advantage to those who practiced it. Natural selection operates according to principles of survival and reproduction of offspring with heritable traits. Many of the social aspects of religious behavior offer advantages—such as internal cohesion—that lead to a society’s members having more surviving children. More importantly, since religions have evolved as their societies have developed, is it possible, Wade asks, for religions to be reworked so that as many people as possible can exercise their innate religious instincts to their own and society’s benefits? Sure to be controversial for its reduction of religion to a product of natural selection, Wade’s study compels us to reconsider the role of evolution in shaping even our most sacred human creations. (Nov. 16)

Author Schaeffer (Keeping Faith) adopts a feisty tone in this essay about evangelical Christianity and aggressive atheism. In the first half of the book, he rebuts justifications from both sides, taking aim at the ideas of such celebrity atheists as Richard Dawkins as well as religious leaders like Rick Warren. Schaeffer asks each side to allow for an evolving religion in which allegory takes precedence over literalism. In the first half of the book, the author quotes lengthy passages from atheist writings, leaving little room for his own optimistic ideas. In the second half, he gives space for his own memories, recalling moments that led him to a middle path of “hopeful uncertainty.” Growing up in a well-known evangelical family, then leaving it behind for secular Hollywood, Schaeffer learned to see the world as aesthetic and contemplative rather than scientific. By embracing mystery and love, he suggests the two movements can exist side-by-side: “It is possible to buck the trend of cynicism and to believe in each other more than in the rightness of our particular ideas.” (Nov.)