Nonfiction Book Reviews

Kenya's dysfunctional state is the subject of this gripping profile of an anti-corruption crusader. Journalist Wrong (In the Footsteps of Mr. Kurtz) tells the story of John Githongo, a journalist and activist (and Wrong's personal friend) who joined newly elected Kenyan President Mwai Kibaki's administration in 2003 as anti-corruption czar. Githongo's reformist hopes were betrayed when his investigation of a contracting scandal earned him the enmity of colleagues, death threats and smear campaigns. He fled to Britain in 2005, taking along secret recordings of conversations in which powerful officials implicated themselves in the scam. Githongo, a charming idealist with an “intransigence bordering on egomania,” is a magnetic protagonist for Wrong's exposé of the machinery of corruption. She dissects the deeper problem of Kenya's patronage system, which exploits the state as a source of loot and makes allowances for the tribal parties in power. The resulting graft and discrimination—which Wrong argues fueled the communal slaughter surrounding Kenya's 2007 election—reinforces Kenyans' “view of existence as a merciless contest, in which only ethnic preference offers hope of survival.” Githongo's saga highlights this pan-African problem and addresses possibilities for change. (July)

Contrary to the dogmas of raw-foods enthusiasts, cooked cuisine was central to the biological and social evolution of humanity, argues this fascinating study. Harvard biological anthropologist Wrangham (Demonic Males) dates the breakthrough in human evolution to a moment 1.8 million years ago, when, he conjectures, our forebears tamed fire and began cooking. Starting with Homo erectus—who should perhaps be renamed Homo gastronomicus—these innovations drove anatomical and physiological changes that make us “adapted to eating cooked food” the way “cows are adapted to eating grass.” By making food more digestible and easier to extract energy from, Wrangham reasons, cooking enabled hominids' jaws, teeth and guts to shrink, freeing up calories to fuel their expanding brains. It also gave rise to pair bonding and table manners, and liberated mankind from the drudgery of chewing (while chaining womankind to the stove). Wrangham's lucid, accessible treatise ranges across nutritional science, paleontology and studies of ape behavior and hunter-gatherer societies; the result is a tour de force of natural history and a profound analysis of cooking's role in daily life. More than that, Wrangham offers a provocative take on evolution—suggesting that, rather than humans creating civilized technology, civilized technology created us. (June)

Sabbag (Snowblind) was one of eight passengers on board Air New England flight 248 when it crashed into the woods of Cape Cod on June 17, 1979. The passengers and co-pilot survived, and after a brief hospitalization, Sabbag was back on a plane less than two months later. “There was never really any question of my not flying again,” Sabbag writes. “Travel had always been a significant part of my life, and it was a substantial part of my work now. ” When Sabbag finally decides to discard his don't-look-back mindset and examine the crash nearly 30 years later, the result is a compelling mix of reporting and memoir. He uncovers how his plane went down and wrestles with whether or not to call the pilot's widow. He interviews some of the passengers and workers from the crash scene, figuring out how they persevered, while discovering how he did the same. Sabbag deftly maneuvers himself in and out of the narrative, so the book isn't about his life as much as it is an insightful breakdown of the emotions, coincidences and facts behind a catastrophic event. Perhaps the biggest insight of Sabbag's book—which packs an emotional wallop, despite the book's slim size—is that despite his dogged reporting, we discover that there are some life events we can't understand completely, even our own. (June)

Donaldson is a medical cowboy, chasing viruses in Africa, but also a UCLA medical prof and ER doc. This book is a wild and extraordinary memoir of his 2003 summer in Sierra Leone as a naïve medical student studying Lassa fever (a close cousin of the Ebola virus). Donaldson gives passionate and powerful reportage on a struggling clinic treating villagers and refugees from neighboring war-torn Liberia suffering from the devastating and often fatal illness. What inspired the adventure was the work of Dr. Aniru Conteh (who died in 2004), the hero at the heart of the story, whose Lassa ward served thousands. despite the lack of equipment, medicine and staff. For a week, Donaldson, untried and unsure, was left to treat the desperately ill patients alone—a test that turned a frightened student into a caring, if not altogether confident, young doctor. Despite a slow start, this astounding story of the seemingly insurmountable barriers to public health in a Third World country revs up into an irresistible tale of discovery, courage and kindness. (May)

Meyerson (The Linguist and the Emperor) delves into the career and psyche of Howard Carter, the British archeologist who in 1922 discovered the 3,300-year-old gold- and jewel-laden tomb of the boy king Tut. Lower-class and lacking a formal education, Carter worked with his father, a painter of animal portraits for the aristocracy. He was discovered and hired in 1892 by the Egyptian Exploration Fund to copy paintings, ancient inscriptions and friezes in Egypt's dark tombs. Carter debuted as an excavator under the tutelage of Flinders Petrie, the single-minded father of modern archeology, at Amarna, the capital of Tut's father. Intense, irascible, brooding and obsessed, Carter searched for Tut for seven years, funded by the fifth earl of Carnarvon, a bon vivant millionaire who came to excavations with fine china and table linens and who died from septic poisoning after nicking a mosquito bite while shaving. Although Meyerson favors a playful writing style that can be intrusive and rambling, his work is also well researched and entertaining, and brings to life the ancient pharaohs and their tumultuous reigns as well as the excavators who disturbed their eternal sleep. Photos. (May)

Renowned Australian historian Blainey (A Short History of the World) homes in on a detailed account of the 1768–1771 exploratory voyage of English navigator Capt. James Cook and the contemporaneous voyage of the rival French captain Jean de Surville through the same previously uncharted waters. Each hoped to find “David Land,” a continent thought to lie in waters between New Zealand and South America rumored to have a Jewish colony and be rich in gold and natural resources. Blainey, a good storyteller, focuses primarily on Cook, recreating a compelling, sometimes minute-to-minute account of the historic voyage. The recounting of the near loss of the aptly named Endeavour on Australia's Great Barrier Reef is gripping. His descriptions of the conditions the sailors faced (tropical diseases and scurvy take a tremendous toll) are harrowing in their exactitude—and his accounts of how Cook and de Surville viewed the native populations they met presage how fatally dangerous Europeans were to be to indigenous peoples. Blainey's knowledge of his material and his respect for the skills of Cook and de Surville make this an attractive tale for history enthusiasts. Illus., maps. (May 1)

Despite the lowbrow title, these are intelligent, opinionated essays on America between 1600 and 1800. Morgan, a revered historian and the bestselling author of Benjamin Franklin, wrote the earliest chapter in 1937, the latest in 2005. Many describe obscure events but pack a surprising punch. In “Dangerous Books,” the author tells the story of Yale (where he is professor emeritus), founded in 1701 as a bastion of Puritanism, but with a library of works by English Enlightenment intellectuals. In 1721 six members of the faculty, including the rector, horrified the community by publicly renouncing Calvinism. The last official American execution for witchcraft occurred in 1692, but the popular belief in witchcraft continued well into the 19th century: in a marvelously recounted vignette, Morgan describes Philadelphia in 1787, where a few miles from the halls where America's elite were debating our Constitution, a mob abused and finally killed an old woman accused of witchcraft. Three of the 17 essays are previously unpublished. Happily, all are up to the standards of this wise, venerable (now 93) and deeply thoughtful historian. (May)

Fresh from his masterful The Summer of 1787, Stewart takes on one of the seamiest events in American history: the vengeful impeachment of Lincoln's successor as president; the Senate failed to convict Andrew Johnson by a single vote. At issue was the continuation of Lincoln's plans to reintegrate the South into the union after the Civil War. But also at stake, as always, was party politics. Stewart takes readers through a tangled web of motives and maneuverings in lively, unadorned prose. He's skilled at characterizing his large cast of characters and, as a lawyer, has a practiced nose for skullduggery, of which there was much. Corruption deeply marred the entire impeachment effort. Justifiably, Stewart holds his nose about most of the people involved and admires few of them. As he sums it up, in 1868 “none of the country's leaders was great, a few were good, all were angry, and far too many were despicable.” Stewart offers little analysis and advances no new ideas about what he relates, but he tells the story as well as it's ever been told. B&w photos. (May)

Public radio reporter Algeo (Last Team Standing) brings the 1950s into focus with a fascinating reconstruction of Harry and Bess Truman's postpresidential 2,500-mile road trip. “I like to take trips—any kind of trip,” Truman wrote. “They are about the only recreation I have besides reading.” Between 2006 and 2008, Algeo retraced their journey with stopovers at some of the same diners and hotels the couple visited. When Truman left the White House in 1953, he returned to Independence, Mo., rejecting lucrative offers he felt would “commercialize” the presidency. His only income was a small army pension. Acquiring a 1953 Chrysler, the Trumans set out with no fanfare and a curious notion of “traveling incognito.” However, reporters and newsreel cameras soon turned their vehicular vacation into an ongoing media event. The book benefits from extensive research through oral history interviews and papers at the Harry S. Truman Library, and Algeo's own interviews with eyewitnesses. With deliberate detours, this book is a portal into the past with layers of details providing unusual authenticity and a portrait of the president as an ordinary man. 20 b&w photos, 1 map. (May)

Costa, professor of biology at Western Carolina University, does a wonderful job of annotating Darwin's groundbreaking classic On the Origin of Species. In more than 900 notes, he explains, expands, contextualizes and updates much of what Darwin had to say about evolution and its causes. For example, throughout the Origin, Darwin briefly referenced many informants; Costa provides background information on each of those individuals. He also directs readers to places in Darwin's earlier writings that presage points made in the Origin. When discussing what Darwin terms “[o]rgans of extreme perfection and complication,” he focused on the evolution of the vertebrate eye. Costa explains the logic Darwin used and how modern biological studies have supported Darwin's contentions, concluding that his “insight underlies modern phylogenetic reconstruction.” In a brief “Coda,” Costa summarizes the changes Darwin made to the Origin in its six editions and the reasons for them. Costa's thoughtful and informative notes enable readers to gain a much fuller appreciation for Darwin's genius and breadth of knowledge—a fine tribute in the great scientist's bicentennial year. (May)

Emmy-winning TV newsmagazine producer Cohen examines one of the most publicized missing child cases in America. On May 25, 1979, Etan Patz left his family's SoHo loft to walk two blocks to catch his school bus, the first time his parents let him make the trip alone. He was never seen again. Early in the investigation, police interviewed Jose Antonio Ramos, whose “interest in little blond boys” had become known to police, yet they dismissed Ramos as a suspect in the Patz case. But over the years, Ramos repeatedly intimated that he molested and murdered Patz and hid the body. Assistant U.S. Attorney Stuart GraBois doggedly and shrewdly pursued Ramos, hoping prison informants could coax a confession. Cohen details GraBois's efforts and the pain Stan and Julie Patz endured as years passed and Etan's fate remained a mystery. Perhaps most heart-wrenching is Stan's twice-yearly ritual of mailing Etan's “missing” poster to Ramos in prison, always with the same message: “What did you do to my little boy?” As true crime, this tragic tale is a standout, and Cohen, though no prose stylist, does a creditable job telling it. (May)

An aspiring actress turned interfaith minister and life coach, Fortgang (Living Your Best Life) knows what it is to struggle to find meaning in life. The yearning, she says, “can swallow you whole.” Posing such questions as “What makes a meaningful relationship with another person?” and “What constitutes meaningful work?” her lovely guide shows that meaning has five components: “Mystery” probes life's puzzles; “Minister” describes transactions between human beings (“to tend to another holding the space for their divinity and innocence to shine through”); “Magnificence” (“to see the divine, the good, the right... in every person”); “Mind” covers meditation (“What awaits us in the silence is ourselves”); and “Mystic” concludes that a New Spirituality is emerging: “The modern mystic is integrated—the worldly self and the spiritual self working as one. The modern mystic is you.” Throughout, she writes honestly about exiting the maze of her own despair and depression as she demonstrates ways to embrace life more fully. Fortgang's writing is moving in its simplicity and sincerity, and like her ministry, her message crosses religious borders; even nonbelievers will find basic truths. (May)

In what has become a growing field, Kot's account of the music industry's massive struggles and glimmers of success in the digital age stands out for its sturdily constructed prose and command of up-to-date facts. The narrative moves chronologically from the late 1990s to the late 2000s, pivoting deftly from such subjects as the havoc deregulation wreaked on mainstream radio, the recording industry's attempted shock and awe–style crackdown on downloading and the recent pay-what-you-want online selling model pioneered by Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails. One of Kot's great strengths is that he is an able and passionate chronicler of the independent labels, musicians and critics whose rise in influence has been the definite upside of the old power structure's collapse. Kot gives us the first essential, critical account of the ever-expanding reach of the indie music Web site Pitchfork Media, a well informed analysis of the history and recent hyperdevelopment of sample-based music and self-contained portraits of new model artists such as Arcade Fire and Bright Eyes. The book thankfully avoids the technology and industry gossip possibilities inherent in the subject and instead focuses on the sometimes unexpectedly wonderful mutations in the way that musicians and listeners think about popular music. (May)

Sheppard (Elvis Costello and Leonard Cohen) aims to “reclaim [Brian] Eno from the Eno nerds” who've turned the musician/producer into a cultish figure, and though respectful of his subject's legacy, he rarely succumbs to outright worship. A large chunk of the biography recounts Eno's British art school roots and his first major music gig, as the synthesizer player for Roxy Music, where his flamboyance quickly made him even more prominent than lead singer Brian Ferry. Sheppard writes smartly about Eno's subsequent solo work and his forays into producing albums for artists like David Bowie and Talking Heads and extensive interviews and research bring out captivating backstories: it's worth noting that almost nobody, including Eno himself, thought he'd be a good fit to work with U2, until The Joshua Tree became one of the biggest-selling rock albums of all time. Sometimes, Eno's interesting projects from the last two decades seem to go by in a blur, compared to the in-depth treatment of the first half of his career, and his theoretical pronouncements might bear a little more critical scrutiny. On the whole, though, this is a valuable document of one of late-20th-century pop music's key influencers. (May)

In this hilarious midlife picaresque, journalist Obmascik (The Big Year) set himself the goal of climbing all 54 Colorado mountain peaks that are higher than 14,0000 feet because it was both hard, and not too hard—thousands have completed the technically undemanding circuit. He hit the gym, pared two pounds from his flabby frame and spent a summer plodding and wheezing up the “fourteeners,” trying to keep up with the better-conditioned women and older men who cruised past toward the summits. Obmascik dodged lightning bolts, took a few hair-raising tumbles, admired the majestic scenery and experienced the exaltation of having truly earned his post-climb bacon double-cheeseburgers. Above all, he bonded with his “man-dates”—male climbing partners who head to the hills seeking refuge from woman troubles, fear of needles and numbing desk jobs. Their slightly feckless masculinity harmonizes with the shaggy-dog stories the author sprinkles in about the miners, cannibals and odious Texans who populate Colorado's mountain lore. Instead of the rarefied spirituality of typical mountaineering narratives, Obmascik's saga revels in off-color jokes and humiliating pratfalls; the result feels like a raucous bowling night, with moderate oxygen deprivation, on the brink of an abyss. (May 12)

Partnoy (F.I.A.S.C.O.) delivers a thrilling account of the grandfather of all Ponzi and Madoff schemes—Ivar Kreuger (1880–1932), who made his fortune in the 1920s by raising money from American investors to lend to European governments in exchange for match monopolies. Kreuger was creating more than matches, it turned out; the “master of investor psychology” created “the forerunners of today's derivatives” and techniques that are still used by hedge funds and investment banks. Shortly after his suicide in 1932, his schemes finally unraveled. The “Kreuger crash” bankrupted millions and led to the securities laws of 1933 and 1934—a “political reaction to a single event and to one man.” Partnoy achieves a nuanced portrait of the charismatic and corrupt financial genius whose advice was sought by Herbert Hoover and other heads of state. A fascinating depiction of a man and his era (Greta Garbo makes memorable cameos), this book is a snapshot of a time all too familiar now: a speculative real estate bubble, unbridled consumer spending, investors buying derivatives based on sketchy information and a Wall Street operating by its own rules. (May)

Bawer (While Europe Slept) argues that, in the name of tolerance and multiculturalism, critics of radical Islam are being silenced by left-leaning academics, politicians and journalists. He argues that self-censorship has become widespread in the Western press, referring to outcry following the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten's 2005 publication of cartoon depictions of the prophet Muhammad, when many international news outlets debated whether the paper had the right to print them in the first place—an attack on freedom of the press coming from within its own ranks. While Bawer does an admirable job of rooting out hypocritical statements made by pundits and politicians, readers might wince at his pronounced anti-Muslim bias—he claims that Muslim immigrants to the West are in a war to snuff out free speech and equal rights. Bawer's thought-provoking arguments are overshadowed by his shrill condemnations and a cranky attack on those who paint him as a polarizing figure. The book would have been helped had the author remembered his own statement, made early in the book: “Free speech doesn't mean immunity from criticism.” (May)

While a glut of recent books on the Middle East have addressed Western perspectives on the region, this excellent book emphasizes questions Arabs ask themselves. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict and Iranian revolution serve as backdrops, but veteran Mideast correspondent MacFarquhar (The Sand Café) focuses primarily on Arab nations and a grab bag of Saudi teachers, Moroccan dissidents broken by their years in prison, individuals searching for political freedom and Muslims struggling to sustain their faith in the face of violence from within and without. MacFarquhar's approach is well-rounded; he includes less palatable facts (“those who argue that the word [jihad] contains no implication of violence are glossing over the fact that for some zealots, jihad means only one thing”) and facts often overlooked (when most Arabs “talk about reform, they usually mean curbing rampant corruption”). If America is to overcome Arabs' deep distrust, MacFarquhar suggests, it must abandon policies “too often based on expediency” and listen, not to its own domestic politics but “to the concerns of the people in [Arabs'] own countries.” (May)

This odyssey—spanning 14,000 miles in four months—details China's rich diversity in a narrative jeweled with dazzling descriptions but lacking analysis. Legerton and Rawson, graduate students in the region's language and history, meander along the Silk Road, reporting on various “hidden” minorities and gaining extraordinary access to people's lives and homes. However, they take much of what they are told at face value and provide only superficial analysis of their ambitious undertaking. This is unfortunate because their sources and observations speak directly to the intersection of politics and culture that came to the fore in the days before Beijing hosted the Olympic Games. It is only in the afterword that they make explicit the link between China's official party line on minorities and what they witnessed. Nor do they attempt to explain what forces maintained China's cohesion over the turbulent past half-century. Despite these structural weaknesses, this is a spectacular achievement reminiscent of early 20th-century anthropological monographs by Margaret Mead and Ruth Benedict, with much to charm readers in search of a travelogue on China's remote border and interior regions. (May)

The more things change, the more the lefty political magazine the Progressive stays the same, to judge by this scintillating anthology of short articles. Ninety-odd years ago, one could find in its pages founding editor—and U.S. senator—Robert M. La Follette's denunciations of racism, imperialist war, money in politics and rapacious corporations; odes to feminism by Jane Addams and Carl Sandburg; an environmentalist elegy for the passenger pigeon by C.F. Hodge; and a jeremiad against the death penalty by Leo Tolstoy himself. These concerns (and new themes like gay rights and the perils of nuclear power) are elaborated upon in later articles by some of the leading voices of the left: Martin Luther King Jr. on the power of nonviolence; John Kenneth Galbraith on the laziness of the rich; Ralph Nader on the callousness of car companies; Noam Chomsky on media propaganda; and Molly Ivins on the absurdities of Republicans. From these pieces one gets a sense of the vigor of the left's past—see FDR's secretary of the interior, Harold Ickes, attacking “big-business Fascist America”—and its perennial relevance to American life. (May 1)

Vine, assistant professor of anthropology at American University in Washington, D.C., relates the untold story of how in the 1970s, the U.S. forcibly relocated the population of Diego Garcia, a small archipelago near the Seychelles in the Indian Ocean, in order to build a military base. Colonized by first the French, then the British, the island was populated by African slaves used to cultivate the coconut plantations fueling Mauritius's sugar industry. Vine reveals how the official U.S. Navy strategy of using island naval bases to secure American power during the Cold War led to the decision to deport the indigenous population, the Chagossians, who were not compensated for the loss of livelihood or property and endured pervasive institutional racism, extreme poverty and health problems. Interviews with surviving Chagossians and the officials who supervised the relocation show the strategic planning and careful coverup in establishing what is now one of the largest military bases in the world. While Vine has done a great service in documenting the forgotten plight of the Chagossians, the book's sluggish pace and painstaking details will dissuade casual readers. (May)

Jacobs, founder of the Amherst Consulting Group and managing partner of One Eighty Partners, debunks management myths in this provocative, counterintuitive volume, demonstrating how relying on emotions—rather than logic—leads to better business decisions. Jacobs draws on the latest research showing that positive and negative reinforcement don't improve performance, quantifiable objectives cause workers to fixate on the short term and sacrifice long-term focus and certain common management practices produce the opposite of the intended effect. He examines the limitations of current organizational strategy in light of brain science, using layman's language to map out how the brain interprets experience and responds to feedback, reward and punishment. He asserts that organizations that are able to apply brain science to their businesses will have a decided advantage over the competition, and he shows how his findings can enhance performance at every level of a company. Well argued and substantiated, this book turns prevalent management theory on its head and will have lasting impact on how it is taught in business schools and implemented in organizations. (May)

In this compact and accessible business parable, Paul and Beck (coauthors of Revved!) claim that savvy managers can turn any company around by creating a happy, positive workplace and valuing employees. While empowering employees is a straightforward concept, according to the authors, most managers “don't live it.” Lessons in making this seemingly effortless turnaround are recounted through the story of an ambitious HR director at a distressed magazine publishing company. With the guidance of a successful entrepreneur, she revitalizes productivity and amazes her skeptical, numbers-oriented boss. While elementary in tone and message, a simple wisdom emerges that can be understood and shared by any manager in any industry. In dismal economic times, this small and genial fable provides the hopeful message that it is still the individual human spirit and cooperation that propels innovation and productivity. (May)

Malone (coauthor of The Virtual Corporation) surveys the growing virtualization of the workplace and the dismantling of traditional organizational structures to argue that we need ways of thinking about organizations that reflect the changing reality of the people who are part of them. The solution, he asserts, is the “protean corporation,” distinguished by its ability to constantly restructure itself to changing circumstances and new opportunities. Praising such corporations as Google, Wikipedia and the U.S. Army, Malone contends that these early-stage “shape-shifters” behave like perpetual entrepreneurial startups, continuously changing their form, direction and identity. He also examines the historical, technological and entrepreneurial evolution of the corporation and envisions the structure, behavior and impact of numerous protean organizations on the American economy and culture. Insightful and visionary, this book will appeal to forward-thinking executives who aim to develop their companies in the tumultuous and ever-changing global marketplace. (May)

Leaving the flatlands of Michigan for the spatial largesse of Colorado, Root (Landscapes with Figures) follows the 1873 tour by nature writer and pioneer Isabella Bird. Conflating Bird's travails as chronicled in A Lady's Life in the Rocky Mountains with his own narrative, Root both educates about the experiences of the Victorian “clergyman's daughter, an invalid... an apparent spinster until the age of fifty, a small, well-mannered woman who traveled alone and mostly rode astraddle in an age when ladies rode side-saddle” and compares them to his own impressions of Colorado. Problematically, Root's story of “motor tours or hikes [that] take place on weekdays” pales in comparison to that of Bird traversing a still wild west. While he says “we all need—or ought—to know where we are, not merely the address but the nature of the place,” Root's account relies on mundane details of his daily activities and effusive statements (“How grand it would feel to make the passage through and to emerge once again in unlimited space, in a place that might fill me”). 10 b&w illus. (May)

Knight's unconventional coming-of-age memoir combines the familial pathos of Augusten Burroughs with a religious awakening narrative borrowed from Malcolm X. The result is a coherent and entertaining work that manages to include the terrifying effects of a schizophrenic father, detailed analyses of major Wrestlemania events and a continuous explanation and deconstruction of Islamic teachings. Knight has an established cult following in the American Muslim community as a result of his novel The Taqwacores, which imagines a Muslim punk rock movement that subsequently became a reality thanks to the book's popularity. Knight offers an engaging story of Islamic conversion and questioning, which focuses on the universal vulnerability of being an intelligent and confused child and teenager with a dysfunctional family. Knight's anecdotal style keeps things lively: he meets his father, who speaks in cryptic and vulgar epigrams; deals with the awkwardness of explaining to American females the strict Muslim precepts forbidding contact with women; and learns humility in Islamic summer camp. While most readers probably wouldn't want to experience much of what Knight puts himself through (a subplot involving his love of wrestling leads to some brutal descriptions of thumbtack-related injuries), the book's welcoming spirit and brash sense of transgression make the pain well worth it. (Apr.)

The slender size of Reichl's memoir of her late mother's life belies its powerful tale of a young woman, Miriam Brudno, who bowed to societal and familial pressure to become a wife and a mother over pursuing a fulfilling career. While Reichl, editor-in-chief of Gourmet magazine, is well known for writing about her culinary adventures (Tender at the Bone; Garlic and Sapphires), this beautifully crafted homage follows a more personal path as she pushes past “Mim Tales”—stories she told about her mother to entertain her readers and friends—to dive deep into her mother's diaries and letters, paying tribute to a woman who was raised when “good women didn't work if they didn't have to.” So Miriam Brudno struggled to fit the mold of the perfect housewife, until she finally told a friend, “Who cares about menus... when there are so many more interesting things to think about?” When Reichl discovers an unopened letter to herself, she reads that her mother “was cheering me on and pointing out that I had an obligation, both to myself and to her, to use my life well.” Reichl has created a masterful portrait of a mother-daughter relationship that will resonate with readers across generations. (Apr.)

Africa's moral and cultural dysfunctions loom as large as its material problems in this wide-ranging jeremiad. Maathai (Unbowed), a Kenyan biologist and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize for organizing the tree-planting Green Belt Movement, surveys Africa's struggle with poverty and disease, political violence, climate change, the legacy of colonialism and a global economy that's stacked against it. But the deeper problem she sees is the selfishness, opportunism and shortsightedness of Africans themselves, from leaders who exploit their countrymen and loot their nations' resources to poor farmers who ruin the land for short-term gain. Maathai means this as an empowering message aimed at a mindset of dependency that would rather “wait for someone to magically make development happen”; she urges Africans to recover indigenous traditions of community solidarity and self-help, along with the virtues of honesty, fairness and hard work. Maathai shrewdly analyzes the links between environmental degradation and underdevelopment, and floats intriguing proposals, like banning plastic bags as a malaria-abatement measure. But the challenges she addresses are vast and intractable—and sadly, many of the development and environmental initiatives she extols seem to have already fizzled. (Apr.)

This intimate collection of writing explores the complex relationship of mothers and daughters. In “The Mother Load,” Jacquelyn Mitchard, even as a grown woman and mother herself, feels “nothing truly bad can ever happen if my mother is around.” Joyce Maynard recalls “My Mother at Fifty” and talks about how her mother's decision to stay in an unhappy marriage because of her and her sister helped her through her own painful divorce. Tara Bray Smith, whose mother battled drug addiction, discusses grief, pain and acceptance in her essay “In the Offing”—“the wonderful thing about adulthood is realizing that we are all deficient, and after a certain point no one is accountable for that but ourselves.” The beauty of this collection, edited by Richesin (editor of The May Queen) is the realization that, despite mothers “good” and “bad,” suicidal, depressed, divorced, neglectful, all the women here remain hopeful—for themselves, their mothers and their own children, who they understand are undeniably shaped by all that has happened and can use this knowledge to face what lies ahead. (Apr.)

Contemporary views of the person and mission of Jesus Christ are as varied as the kinds of faith that attach themselves to Christianity. From the somber Calvinists to the exuberant Word-Faith movement, practitioners of the Christian religious enterprise continue to find new and innovative ways of discovering the “Man from Nazareth.” In this exuberantly joyful meditation, Dickson, honorary associate in the department of ancient history, Macquarie University in Sydney, Australia, gathers the many facets of Jesus' life and explores each as one would study the facets of a valuable diamond. How can one man be both friend and judge, both God and servant? The author draws on ancient histories and Judeo-Christian religious studies to present a compelling and readable account of the complex figure that millions call Savior and Lord. There is no agenda except to place Jesus Christ before readers in ways that inform and refresh, inspire and encourage. This is a wonderful book and is highly recommended for readers, indeed seekers, at all levels. (May)

Protestant author Jon Sweeney (Almost Catholic) reports on more than 20 years of conversations he's had with monks in Massachusetts, Kentucky and Georgia. In his search for God, he encountered Trappist monk M. Basil Pennington and a number of other memorable characters who were eager to share their decades of cloistered experience with him. As a non-Catholic layman, Sweeney asks pointed questions about many aspects of monastic spirituality and elicits warm reflections on abbey life. Background information on Cistercian and Benedictine orders and quotes from such writers as Thomas Merton, Graham Greene, Evelyn Underhill and George Herbert provide a counterpoint to the voices of a fast-disappearing generation of contemplatives. While the dialogues are vivid, Sweeney's account of his own faith task of incorporating the monks' wisdom is too sketchy to be satisfying, and he offers little information about the directions his life has taken as a result. Adding to the “monks changed my life” genre is tricky, especially given the height of the bar set by Kathleen Norris's remarkable Cloister Walk. Less reticence, better writing and deeper insight would have strengthened Sweeney's endeavor to distill experiences that were clearly significant to him. (May)

This short volume attempts to apply biblical teachings to the present-day U.S. immigration crisis. Hoffmeier, a professor of Old Testament and archeology who was born in Egypt, argues that the Hebrew Bible's many legal and ethical proscriptions against mistreating the “alien” were addressed to a class of people who in this day and age might be thought of resident aliens or permanent residents—not illegal immigrants. He also argues that the so-called “sanctuary movement,” in which church leaders have on occasion sheltered illegal immigrants from imminent arrest, is “twisting biblical statutes and subverting federal law.” The book offers little in the way of sociological, political or economic insight into the circumstances surrounding modern-day illegal immigration, beyond advocating for a law-and-order approach. Missing from this analysis is an understanding of the Bible as a prophetic document more concerned with larger issues of justice. Still, Christians looking for a biblical justification for strict federal enforcement of immigration laws may find much to like. (Apr. 30)

Bestselling inspirational writer and speaker Andrews (The Traveler's Gift) again blends fiction, allegory and inspiration and seasons it with a dash of autobiography. The result is a readable little tale of a mysterious old man named Jones—”just Jones, no mister”—who shows up in the lives of people in crisis. Jones brings the gift of perspective—he “notices” alternative ways to think about things. Some of what he says is common sense: “yes, sir” works better than “I guess.” Some of what he says counters received wisdom: do sweat the small stuff, because little things can make a big difference as surely as brushstrokes make up a masterpiece. The narrator “Andy” is personable and appealing, and Jones is mysterious and brusque enough not to be a cloying Pollyanna. The title is awkward and not everyone likes motivational books, but many readers do. Andrews brings a track record, wordsmith skills and, best of all, an imagination. (Apr. 28)

You have to love a book with sentences like this: “Things got rough for the foreskins of Jesus as the Middle Ages matured.” Author Manseau (Vows) lavishly scatters gems like this as he travels the world in search of the bones, teeth, hair and other scraps from the religiously renowned. The result is a lively lope among fragments from famous faith figures – Buddha's tooth, Muhammad's whiskers and the aforementioned foreskin, or foreskins, as many people and places have claimed ownership of this fragment. Manseau never gives over entirely to the snarkiness that sometimes marred some of his previous work, especially Killing the Buddha: A Heretic's Bible. Instead, he provides a rich history of each of the, ahem, items he considers and examines their effects on contemporary believers. Occasionally, Manseau's pilgrimages feel a little cursory; he writes that some of his visits to the relic sites were shorter than he would have liked. Yet he listens well. When he meets a Pakistani man praying before the supposed whiskers of Muhammad in an Aleppo mosque, Manseau asks if the man has come to be close to the Prophet. “Close? I cannot be close,” the pilgrim replies. “I come to remind me how far it is I must go.” (Apr.)

Coauthors Foster (Celebration of Discipline) and Beebe (A Concept to Keep) have much to say on the variety and history of Christian devotion. They develop seven ways of characterizing methods for spiritual development, and illustrate those methods by classifying major Christian figures according to these paths. The work of Augustine, for example, illustrates “the right ordering of love.” The seven paths are not equally obvious: the meaning of “action and contemplation” is more apparent than “the right ordering of love,” which is more metaphoric but also cryptic. A better balance between the frequently scholastic-sounding treatments of the major Christian thinkers and the warm, informal “reflecting and responding” chapter conclusions – written by Foster – would have broadened the book's appeal. Some who are strongly inclined to devotion may be taken aback by the book's varied tables and lists. On the other hand, this is a meaty, thoughtful book that will satisfy those who want substantive prescriptions for ways to grow spiritually. One bonus is that it includes not only fathers but also mothers of the church. This book puts religion back in spirituality, a good, true home for it. (Apr.)

Long before Stephen Covey developed his popular “Seven Habits of Highly Effective People,” the apostle Paul had written his own list of practices for “highly effective Christians.” Author/minister Parachin suggests Paul's “fruits of the spirit”—enumerated in the book of Galatians as love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control—remain habits worth forming. He repackages them, offering specific ways to develop and think about each one. Each chapter is made up of a list of suggested actions followed by “seven further considerations.” To practice gentleness, for example, he recommends cultivating gentle thoughts and being gentle with those we encounter daily. Although his suggestions may seem overly simple, the illustrations he uses add depth and inspiration. In the chapter on love, for instance, he tells how Ralph Waldo Emerson reached out to Henry David Thoreau after the death of Thoreau's brother, urging Thoreau to write reviews of natural history books, an experience that led the latter to live on and write about Walden Pond. Although based on a text in Christian scripture, the book's practical helps and goal of making the planet a kinder, gentler place give it universal appeal. (Apr. 6)

“Questions make new worlds possible,” asserts author Dark (The Gospel According to America), a key premise in this thought-provoking meander of reflections on, and challenges for, living an engaged life of authentic Christianity. The well-read author draws insight and inspiration from a broad range of sources—Shakespeare, Ursula Le Guin, Johnny Cash and James Joyce—in calling into question the status quo, received history and conventional theology. Dark brings to his writing the kind of energy, offbeat enthusiasm and commitment to relevance that must make his high school English classes exciting places for inquiry and exploration. That each page yokes keen observation to practical application with wisdom and compassion inclines the reader to forgive the book's bewildering organization and abstruse section headings. “Questions for further conversation” at the end of each chapter will be useful for groups eager to put Dark's appeals into action. The author's passion for social justice, clarity about the “sacred obligation” of taking nothing at face value and confidence that unsettling questions yield rich rewards for both individuals and communities is convincing and moving. (Apr.)

The author of this excellent examination of the Jewish response to contemporary issues of social justice earned her rabbinical ordination at New York's Jewish Theological Seminary, where she became aware of problems experienced by residents of neighboring Harlem. This and her subsequent position working for a trade union led her to explore the relationship between Jewish texts and matters of social policy. Today, she is rabbi-in-residence of the Jewish Fund for Justice. Combining the examination of Jewish texts with contemporary social concerns has resulted in a thoughtful book. Jacobs explores problems of poverty, workers, housing, health care and the environment, highlighting the contribution of Jewish teachings to answering these social questions. (Apr. )

The prolific Sweet—author of articles, sermons, books—turns his vast knowledge of culture and faith toward what he calls “the secret of life”: an “MRI church where 'M' = Missional, 'R' = Relational, and 'I' = Incarnational.” He digs deep into “MRI theology,” calling it “the only theology worth bothering with” and offering leaders and laypeople a new paradigm for bringing Christ to the world. Sweet outlines the characteristics of each element: missional—”The church is 'sent' to be Jesus”; relational—”Biblical truth... feasts on relationship and revelation”; incarnational—”The Incarnational life strikes it rich by multiple connections with community and context.” Readers will find much to ponder, but they'll have to wade through Sweet's metaphor-heavy, rambling and jumpy writing style, plus his confusing, frequent use of quotation marks around words and phrases as if tweaking their meaning. His vision for following Christ individually and as the church is commendable; his presentation, however, is confounding. (Apr.)

Almond, an associate professor and Islamic specialist at Georgia State University, draws on a multitude of sources to create an alternate history of interactions between Christians and Muslims in Europe over 800 years, boldly concentrating on “unity and collaboration instead of friction and division.” His approach shows how Muslims were a vital and regular part of Europe and its true history, not the European history he believes is being “airbrushed” to exclude Jews and Muslims. Almond's examples prove his point; he cites Muslim and Christian sharing of languages, cultures and lifestyles throughout Europe, the use of Muslim-style florals and geometric design in European church architecture of the 13th century and, of perhaps the utmost significance, leaders who sought the aid of Muslim armies when their country was being invaded. Reports during the Crimean War testified to cooperation and even warmth between Christian and Muslim soldiers. Muslims were also on both sides in the battle for Constantinople in 1453. Even the Turkish siege of Vienna in 1683 has been overdramatized to create or emphasize a “clash of civilizations” paradigm. Almond chastises those who promote stereotypes—such as the “Terrible Turks”—and suggests that the goal of such government and media-propagated mythologizing is to use Muslims to distract from problems within modern-day society and governance. (Apr.)

Published in Hebrew more than 30 years ago by one of the previous century's most exceptional and revered Jewish thinkers, the long-awaited English translation of this brilliant philosophical essay on the nature of the relationship between man and God is an eloquent and intelligent effort. With an instructive introduction by scholars David Shatz and Reuven Ziegler, the translation remains loyal to the rabbi-author's melodious and meticulous style and makes this important work accessible to the English-speaking world. The essay draws upon the passionate imagery in the Song of Songs in which two lovers, long understood by Jewish commentators to refer to the love between God and the Jewish people, yearn and search for one another only to be thwarted at the last possible moment from their ultimate reunion by a curious withdrawal. Soloveitchik analyzes with genius this contradictory response in terms of the religious and philosophical nature of love and awe, mercy and justice, prophecy and related emotions and states of being. This cogent and rarified essay, like Soloveitchik's earlier work Halakhic Man, is certain to become indispensable to devotees and scholars of the man known to many as the Rav. (Apr.)

Books about prayer tend to champion one modus operandi. Pastor and seminary professor Cole (Good Mourning: Getting Through Your Grief) invites readers to try several methods, offering a variety of aids for those who regularly struggle with prayer. Cole stresses the importance of prayer as encounter with God, examining its roots in both ancient and modern Christian theology and practice. He then proposes making prayer an intentional habit that “informs all that we do” in order to connect with God and the needs of others. Despite this call for a personal bond, Cole himself remains distant, overlooking more personal styles of prayer (e.g., talking to God as though he were a friend). Readers will find a thorough body of Scripture-based, liturgical methods as well as postures and settings to improve attentiveness, memory, and ability. Each chapter ends with a prayer and includes comforting verses for the prayer-wary reader. While the book doesn't explain which prayers God answers, it aptly demonstrates prayer's inherent benefits and the ease with which prayer may be engaged. (Apr.)

Hayford, popular evangelical pastor and author of more than 40 books, has developed a prayer primer for Christians at either end of the faith spectrum. Whether new to the faith journey or a seasoned follower of Christ, believers will find many specifics: e.g., praying through difficulties with precision; praying for loved ones with pinpointed prayers. Hayford's text opens with a brief biblical history lesson and moves quickly into a discussion on fighting spiritual adversaries through prayer. The author explains the how-tos, the when-tos and the where-tos before debunking common prayer misconceptions. Christians will especially find helpful the suggestions on how to pray for family, friends and work associates, using the powerful message modeled by Jesus, who lived a life characterized by loving service while all the time offering consistent “inward” prayers. Hayford's message is clear: Christians need to take seriously their privilege to pray. This author's readership will appreciate his advice and most certainly put it into practice. (Apr.)

Drawing on personal experiences and numerous interviews with individuals who practice Pentecostalism, Alexander, who teaches at Azusa Pacific University, attempts to provide insights into why the Pentecostal faith continues to grow by leaps and bounds around the world. He examines such key elements of Pentecostalism as speaking in tongues, healing, prophecy and visions, and spiritual warfare and prayer in arguing that they provide freedom to hope for and experience a better life. Alexander's unfortunately superficial survey would have been strengthened by more attention to historical context. For example, his shallow chapter on the “prosperity gospel” espoused by many Pentecostals fails to point out the dangers—including fraud—of this version of the Christian message. This highly repetitious book would have been more successful as a short article. (Apr.)

Carroll, a former Catholic priest who wrote of his conflict with his father over the Vietnam War in An American Requiem, revisits and expands on that tension in this spiritual memoir infused with church history. Here, Carroll traces his life as a son of the Catholic Church, showing how he and the church changed as he moved from boyhood into adulthood. Ordained a priest in 1968, the year Humanae Vitae, the controversial encyclical on contraception, was released, Carroll discovered by 1974 that he could no longer keep his vow of obedience if it meant heeding teachings with which he disagreed. Leaving the priesthood freed him to pursue more fully his life as a writer, but also to be the kind of Catholic he believes the reformers of his church envisioned in the Second Vatican Council of 1962–1965. Although he laments what he calls the more recent “conservative reaction” to the council, he remains Catholic. Readers who, like Carroll, remain Catholic but wrestle with their church's positions on moral issues will most appreciate his story. (Apr.)

Neuhaus, who died in early 2009, moved along the theological continuum during his life from liberal Protestant to conservative Catholic. Along the way, the Catholic priest who was editor-in-chief of the journal First Things never shied from controversy and continually offered provocative theological insights on the nature of American religion and politics. In some ways, his last book picks up where his early book, The Naked Public Square: Religion and Democracy in America, left off. In this sometimes repetitious but always challenging look at American Christianity, Neuhaus argues that Christians live in exile in a foreign land, for they always live with the hope of returning to the Kingdom of God. Neuhaus maps out the territory in which Christians find themselves, shaped by the liberal irony—and its shortcomings—of the late philosopher Richard Rorty as well as by the many shallow spiritualities of the self proffered by New Age religions. The final pages of this book poignantly afford a glimpse of Neuhaus's own embrace of hope as he made his final journey toward the New Jerusalem. (Mar.)

Is there a perfect language? Probably not, according to Arika Okrent.

Efforts to make language simpler, clearer, less divisive and more truthful have backfired spectacularly, to judge by this delightful tour of linguistic hubris. Linguist Okrent explores some of the themes and shortcomings of 900 years worth of artificial languages. She surveys “philosophical languages” that order all knowledge into self-evident systems that turn out to be bizarrely idiosyncratic; “symbol languages” of supposedly crystalline pictographs that are actually bafflingly opaque; “basic” languages that throw out all the fancy words and complicated idioms; rigorously logical languages so rule-bound that it's impossible to utter a correct sentence; “international languages,” like Esperanto, that unite different cultures into a single idealistic counterculture; and whimsical “constructed languages” that assert the unique culture and worldview of women, Klingons or chipmunks. Okrent gamely translates to and from these languages, with unspeakably hilarious results, and riffs on the colorful eccentricities of their megalomaniacal creators. Fortunately, her own prose is a model of clarity and grace; through it, she conveys fascinating insights into why natural language, with its corruptions, ambiguities and arbitrary conventions, trips so fluently off our tongues. (May 19)

Whether it's history, autobiography or the current state of drugs or minor leagues, publishers have the bases covered

In 1958, after the Dodgers and Giants had both left New York for California, a group of investors sought to bring the city a new baseball franchise, and their proposal was a bold one. Led by former Dodgers general manager Branch Rickey, they sought to create an entire new major league. Meanwhile, as the advocates for the would-be Continental League tried to make their case before the existing major league owners, New York Yankees manager Casey Stengel struggled to keep America's most popular team in championship form. Shapiro (The Last Good Season) parallels these two stories, arguing that they represent a hinge point when team owners could have taken radical steps to reclaim the sport's hold on the public imagination, but chose instead to cling tightly to their near-monopoly, paving the way for other sports, like football, to rise in popularity. The history, filled with colorful personalities, is told in a straightforward manner. While its two halves don't always fit together neatly, they offer a lively perspective on backstage dealings that almost changed the course of professional sports in America. 8 pages of b&w photos not seen by PW. (June)

On July 22, 2007, minor league baseball player Tino Sanchez Jr. hit a foul ball that struck his team's recently hired first base coach, Mike Coolbaugh, at the precise point on the back of his neck to cut off blood to his brain, killing him instantly. Price (Far Afield) builds upon the article he wrote for Sports Illustrated to flesh out the lives of Sanchez and Coolbaugh, two “lifers” who devoted everything to the sport and got only fleeting glimpses of the major leagues in return. Price leans a bit too hard on the melodrama at first, but this story doesn't need a hard sell. As he gets into the ordinary, working-class struggles of his two subjects, the men become real, vibrant personalities—and the tragedy, when it finally comes, takes on all too human dimensions; Sanchez's despair over the accident is as heartbreaking to read about as the anguish of Coolbaugh's family. Price isn't the first to argue that minor league baseball, bracketed off from the glitz and scandals of the big leagues, is where the game's true emotional core can be found. But he's found a story that makes a powerful case for that argument. (June)

From the mid-1980s to the early 1990s, Strawberry was one of the most feared sluggers in baseball, a perennial All-Star who was dubbed “The Black Ted Williams.” Sadly, his effortless production on the field belied his troubles off it. Growing up in South Central L.A. with an abusive, negligent father left Strawberry unsure on “how to become a man,” and playing pro baseball provided the foundation and means to become an alcohol and drug addict. Thanks to Strawberry's hard-living lifestyle, his attempts at domestic stability are colossal failures, and his halfhearted attempts at rehab lead to jail time and a damaged reputation. At his lowest point, Strawberry turns to God, leading him to redemption. The sheer turbulence of his life—which also includes two bouts of cancer in his 30s—certainly makes for a readable book, though not a probing one. The clichéd writing and Strawberry's refusal to delve deeper into his past (a troubled older brother; his strained relationship with pro athlete son, DJ) make it hard to bond with Strawberry, and his newfound spirituality provides only another barrier. 16-page photo insert not seen by PW. (May)

“Cheating is a large part of life,” writes veteran sportswriter Zimniuch in his preface. “It's only natural that it should extend to sports.” Not only is cheating prevalent in every level of athletics (overage pitcher Danny Almonte dominating the 2001 Little League World Series; Rosie Ruiz Vivas taking the subway to win the 1980 Boston marathon)—it has a rich history, dating back at least to the ancient Olympics in 388 B.C., when the boxer Eupolus bribed three opponents to take a dive. Though bribery, dirty play and spying are part of the story, cheating has taken a dangerous turn in recent years, namely the alarming revelations of athletes using performance-enhancing drugs and steroids, a practice that has made its way to high school athletics. Given the recent barrage of attention directed at baseball star Alex Rodriguez for his confession of steroid use, Zimniuch's book is certainly relevant. However, the concept of cheating and its culture has many shades of gray, and when not editorializing or dabbling in clichés, Zimniuch offers little more than a summary of past transgressions and sneaky tricks. (Apr.)