Historian Dalyrmple debuts with an immersive chronicle of the final days of the British Raj that explores how a region previously connected by trade and culture—including India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and much of what is now considered the Middle East and Southeast Asia—ended up fractured into starkly divided countries, dashing the dream of a united “Asiatic federation” held by some independence movements. As the British withdrew, they established new borders that formalized major divisions of religion and ethnicity, cutting through minority communities and further exacerbating tensions; in particular, they supported Hindus over Muslims on racist grounds, favoring a Hindu-led Indian National Congress. Dalyrmple illustrates the Raj’s administrative disarray ahead of the Great Partition, including many delays, with definitive plans released only after independence to “divert odium from the British.” Firsthand accounts illustrate a whirlwind of political stumbles and scandals, ranging from the absurd, as when British troops abandoned an Arab state in modern-day Yemen by feigning dinner plans and a beach day, to the unsettling, such as the founder of the Indian National Army courting Nazi support. Most affecting are accounts from survivors of partition’s chaotic violence, such as a Hindu student kept alive during the Great Calcutta Killings by Muslim neighbors who themselves “murdered an innocent passer-by in broad daylight.” The result is a compassionate and gripping look at the far-reaching consequences and human costs of partition. (Feb.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Activist Osterweil (In Defense of Looting) offers a razor-sharp critique of the tight control of intellectual property at the heart of the Walt Disney Company. Asserting that Disney uses its nostalgic image to facilitate “ruthless power grabs,” Osterweil argues that IP “must be overthrown.” Rigid control of IP has been Disney’s m.o. from the start, according to the author, who notes that founder Walt Disney lost copyright to an early creation, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, and became determined not to let it happen again. In its current era, Osterweil contends, Disney has effectively “killed the public domain” in its endless quest to extend copyright, and churns out “soulless” sequels and reboots of classics. Today’s franchise era has so degraded the quality of scripts that it’s “outsource[d] the production of meaning to fan communities,” Osterweil writes, suggesting that this is less a bug than a feature: if the plot of a franchise movie is confusing, it just encourages fans to be “an expert... which is to say, an ultra-consumer” of the franchise. While some of Osterweil’s arguments don’t land—was the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise really a subtle campaign against media piracy?—the book nevertheless pushes valiantly back against the “ouroboros” of Disney (they own the rights to their own corporate strategy on IP, which they sell to other businesses). It’s a plucky argument against Big Fairytale. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

In 1776, 23-year-old Quaker Jemima Wilkinson awoke from a deadly illness transformed into a genderless messenger from God named Universal Friend, also known as Public Universal Friend. In this riveting biography, historian Sankovitch (American Rebels) brings to vivid life the striking minister in “genderless clothing” who preached “repentance through gratitude” and “salvation guaranteed for all” in Rhode Island and eastern Pennsylvania, and later at outposts founded by the Society of the Universal Friend in western New York. The book elegantly embeds Universal Friend’s rise within the tumultuousness of the era, including the destabilizing upheaval of the American Revolution that led many to connect with the minister’s message of “Unity and Fellowship”; the concurrent explosion of other new religious movements building separatist communities, such as the more working-class Shakers; and the chaos of “conflicting claims of land speculators” during post-Revolution western expansion. The latter became a source of significant internal strife within the Society as several members, almost entirely men, undermined the group’s property claims and betrayed Universal Friend, accusing the minister of blasphemy. Most astute is Sankovitch’s argument that Universal Friend better achieved the ideals of the Revolution than many male contemporaries, establishing a community in which women were “unrestricted” and African Americans were “integral and welcome.” It’s a transfixing look at a remarkable leader whose belief in “the equality of all souls” still resonates. (Jan.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

The infamous holy man did more than any revolutionary to bring down the Russian monarchy, according to this captivating biography from historian Beevor (Stalingrad). Siberian peasant-turned-religious guru Rasputin came to St. Petersburg in 1905 and amassed a large following that included Empress Alexandra. She, like many women, was transfixed by Rasputin’s burning gaze, rustic authenticity, and sonorous voice, as well as his uncanny capacity for emotional rapport, which felt to many like mind reading. But Rasputin had a lecherous side, as attested by secret police reports and eyewitness accounts: he propositioned female admirers (he told them that to genuinely repent they must first sin greatly), trolled ceaselessly for prostitutes, and was even accused of improprieties with the czar’s daughters by their governess. During WWI, Alexandra pressured her husband, Emperor Nicholas, into installing incompetent ministers loyal to Rasputin, who instituted a reign of sexualized corruption (including receiving sexual favors from women trying to keep male relatives out of the army). It was this corruption, and the sense that the czar had lost control and let Russia fall prey to sinister weirdos, that Beevor asserts led the monarchy to be easily overthrown. Calling it “a lesson no less relevant today,” Beevor slyly concludes that “stories of... Dionysian orgies in high places proved far more devastating than anyone imagined at the time.” It’s an arresting portrait of a regime rotting from the top. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Epidemiologist Williams debuts with an expansive history of public health, demonstrating how politics has subverted efforts to improve the lives of individuals and communities. She shows how the discovery of microbes responsible for diseases launched a “golden age in public health” in the early 20th century, sparking clean water and vaccination initiatives that increased life expectancy. But as germs became the primary focus of public health policy, social issues, like a lack of access to health care, were ignored. She chronicles the creation of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and cites instances of public health measures being shut down by outside forces, such as how efforts in the 1990s to study gun violence were derailed by a law banning the use of federal funding to conduct research that would promote gun control. Williams explains how public health, if practiced appropriately, can help with issues as wide ranging as gun violence, domestic abuse, environmental racism, and unsafe working conditions. Throughout, she makes numerous critical points, including that “zip codes are more important than genetic codes as a predictor of health and longevity” and “knowledge by itself doesn’t save lives. It’s the social and political will to use the science to make changes happen that saves lives.” The result is an urgent, inspiring vision of what public health can be. (Feb.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Teer, an editor at the lifestyle site Cup of Jo, debuts with a stirring essay collection that examines motherhood amid the climate crisis. A mother of two young children, Teer explores how to raise kids in a warming world as natural disasters increase and apocalyptic rhetoric abounds. Reflecting on her first pregnancy in 2018, she recalls receiving fetal development updates from a pregnancy app alongside news alerts about impending deadlines to reduce global carbon emissions, prompting her to wonder “How would a changing climate change parenting?” Unable to separate maternal anxiety from climate anxiety (she’s haunted, for example, by the fact that it takes 500 years for diapers to decompose in landfills), she attends a 10-week course based on the book How to Live in a Chaotic Climate, where she learns that teaching kids resilience and empathy can be a meaningful form of climate action. Elsewhere, she unpacks the power of fairy tales, which she finds can instill in kids a sense of enchantment with the natural world, and recounts volunteering at beach cleanups and attending a climate strike with her daughter. She adeptly balances her anguish with optimism, revealing that “parenting has shown me that love is capacious enough to hold both hope and despair.” This is a must-read for climate-conscious parents. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Novelist Bydlowska (Monster) follows her 2013 memoir, Drunk Mom, with another unvarnished account of her experiences with addiction. She begins with the fallout from Drunk Mom; at a time when women “suffering from addiction and mental health issues... served as punchlines for comedians and late-night talk show hosts,” Bydlowska was criticized for publicly discussing the darkest corners of her life. Still, she stayed sober for two years after the book’s publication, only to relapse in conjunction with her partner’s infidelity. She initially experienced deep shame and worried she’d be considered a hypocrite, kicking off a “relapse-Shame-relapse trajectory” that continued even as she managed, for year-long stretches, to stay sober. Bydlowska writes with humility and lucidity about the mercurial nature of addiction, avoiding easy platitudes or excessive self-regard as she details the hard work of maintaining sobriety. Ultimately, she finds meaning in what she calls “unshaming,” a process of defanging the emotion by admitting to one’s actions without judgment. Her generous and frank chronicle will, like Drunk Mom before it, resonate with readers battling demons of their own. Agent: Samantha Haywood, Transatlantic Agency. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

The choice to go “no contact” with family, particularly with one’s parents, unfairly engenders criticism despite the “liberation and peace” that can result, critic Bartoy observes in the introduction to this ruminative and frequently disquieting essay collection. Twenty years ago, “I cut ties with my father at twenty-five,” she writes, noting that even though “my suicidal ideation... stopped [and] the world looked a little brighter,” both pop psychology articles and professional therapists at the time encouraged adult children to rekindle broken relationships with parents. (“Hint: I was the problem.”) The 32 contributors all strive to fight back against that still common advice, revealing harrowing family dysfunction that made cutting the cord a matter of survival. They include shattering stories of physical and sexual abuse, but also subtler torments, including parental narcissism and dehumanizing treatment. In “Stranger,” Tiffany Aldrich MacBain recaps growing up with a “charming” father who “took pains to humiliate and expose me [and] enjoyed my distress and confusion.” In “Can’t You Read?” Anna Qu recollects meeting an aunt she never knew she had, whose existence feels “taboo, invisible,” more like a “servant” than a daughter, a trajectory that Qu disconcertingly realizes she is also on before leaving home. Though the essays can sometimes lean too far into lyricism and mosaic, they are still grippingly vulnerable. For those who feel guilt after disengaging from family, this offers powerful absolution. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Death threats, doxxing, and accusations of grooming are just some of the grim obstacles confronting California teachers, according to retired educator Granzella’s eye-opening debut. After the Proud Boys “loomed over preschoolers, screaming at the parents” at her local library’s Drag Story Hour in June 2022, the author embarked on a statewide investigation, interviewing California educators about their experiences being targeted for teaching about race, gender, and sexuality. Among them are Lynn, accused by two mothers of “trying to make [their] girls gay” after writing “It gets better” in a supportive note to a struggling student, and Elisa, whose targeting by a pastor for starting an LGBTQ+ club exploded into online outrage (“one commenter recommended that she be stoned, as in biblical times”). Even more alarming are the paltry responses from school boards and administrators, including a principal who cautioned Elisa about telling students about her wife (“Don’t bring that up again. Don’t talk about your family”). Taken together, these stories expose a culture of fear pervading public schools, which, as Granzella emphasizes, is disastrous given how important teachers are for fostering both students’ self-acceptance and their tolerance of difference. Even while offering a few glimmers of hope, like Temecula Valley teachers successfully fighting for the repeal of a critical race theory ban that made teaching about slavery impossible, this paints a dire picture of a besieged school system. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Biologist Heinrich (Racing the Clock) pays homage to Maine’s boreal forests in this touching memoir. As climate change threatens earth, he argues that Maine, with its rich forests teeming with animal populations, is “a model of nature as it ought to be.” The octogenarian author relates how he moved to Maine in 1952, at age 12, from Germany, and in 1980 built a log cabin on his family’s farmland, where he pursued a career as a writer, teacher, and biologist. Among other memories, Heinrich reminisces about raising a wild Canadian gosling, hunting deer, and searching for invasive gypsy moths. He stresses the importance of living in synchronicity with nature and in observance of natural cycles. Noting how Maine’s cold snaps and thaws prompt maple trees to yield their sap, he describes the process of making syrup (“I was kept busy... feeding the fire to sustain a billowing white steam cloud rising up above the froth of the boiling sap”). Likewise, he recounts planting 15 wild American chestnut seedlings, which at the time were nearly extinct, next to his cabin and then observing how insects and blue jays helped them pollinate. At last count, he found 1,300 offspring had spread through the forest. His empathy for nature effectively demonstrates the beauty of “belonging to something larger than ourselves.” This is an eloquent account of a long life well spent in the woods. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 02/06/2026 | Details & Permalink