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Two Chinese girls meet in elementary school during China’s Cultural Revolution. Their initial joining of hands is less a matter of childhood friendship than a drawing together of two young people who face similar persecution. Both are outcasts during the reign of an abusive regime, one that tolerates little diversity. Mao Zedong sits on the throne of this world, and from his perch terror and intolerance spill down into the lowest ranks of his troops.

Author Anchee Min, like the two women portrayed in this, her fourth book, grew up during China’s Cultural Revolution and was once a cog in Mao’s massive Communist machine. Not until the 1980s, when she came to America, was she able to address her past, at first in the form of her best-selling memoir Red Azalea. Now in her mid-40s, living in sunny California, Min figuratively returns home in Wild Ginger for an unsettling examination of the China that defined her youth.

Wild Ginger and Maple, the narrator of the novel, yearn to be upstanding citizens, proper young Maoists, but each is disabled by her family. Maple’s parents are as poor as the proletariat throngs so celebrated during this period, but they are teachers and are therefore contaminated. Wild Ginger comes from even more reactionary stock. While her mother is Chinese, her long-deceased father was part-French, a fact that shows through Wild Ginger’s “foreign-colored eyes.” While the two girls delight in having found one other, they respond differently to the strictures of the system as they grow older: ideals harden in one woman and shatter in the other. The tension between the two is a subtle means by which Min underlines the tensions inherent in Mao’s China. Each girl becomes symbolic of a mode of reacting to an oppressive government. Min’s skill lies in the fact that each remains a convincing and compelling character. Employing the personal to profess the political, Min has created another engaging fiction that simultaneously serves as powerful commentary on her complex relationship with her native country. Susanna Baird is a writer living in Brookline, Massachusetts.

Two Chinese girls meet in elementary school during China's Cultural Revolution. Their initial joining of hands is less a matter of childhood friendship than a drawing together of two young people who face similar persecution. Both are outcasts during the reign of an abusive regime,…
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As a child in an orphanage in the Soviet Union, Ruben Gallego dreamed of becoming a kamikaze. He knew he could never be a pilot, because cerebral palsy disabled his hands and feet, but he thought he might become a guided torpedo filled with explosives. I dreamed of stealing up to an enemy aircraft carrier very quietly and pressing the red button. Unable to walk, hidden away, Gallego dreamed of a useful death, because the only fate that seemed likely for him was a useless one. Instead, Gallego has triumphed over his disability and circumstances to write White on Black, a novelized memoir that is itself a kind of torpedo against mistreatment of the handicapped. In addition to his cerebral palsy, Gallego had the ill-luck to have a grandfather who cared more about politics than about his family. Ignacio Gallego, exiled secretary general of the Spanish Communist Party in the 1960s, saw to it that his infant grandson was shut away and told his daughter that the boy was dead. Little Ruben was left entirely to the mercies of a series of underfunded, badly run institutions. As he and the other severely disabled children became too old for orphanages, they were put in old-age homes, where most quickly died. Remarkably, in this collection of vignettes he calls collective images, Gallego focuses not on the horrors, but on what he calls the heroes the children and caretakers who were able to express their humanity despite the tremendous obstacles. In spare prose that underlines the tale’s universality, Gallego tells us of the tough, but warm peasant attendants, the mother of a friend who cut through the bureaucratic red tape to provide decent food, the child who smuggled out a letter asking for help.

Most of his caretakers assumed Ruben was stupid because he couldn’t walk. But Ruben had a sharp brain, and eventually he was able to make a living as a computer specialist, to find women who would love him and to reunite with his long-lost mother. There’s no need to die a useful death when you can live a useful life. Anne Bartlett is a journalist in Washington, D.C.

As a child in an orphanage in the Soviet Union, Ruben Gallego dreamed of becoming a kamikaze. He knew he could never be a pilot, because cerebral palsy disabled his hands and feet, but he thought he might become a guided torpedo filled with explosives.…
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Best remembered as the father of the Soviet hydrogen bomb, shy, retiring Andrei Sakharov was an unlikely Russian dissident. A renowned physicist, Sakharov was also an independent thinker on such issues as intellectual freedom and human rights. The life of this remarkable man who refused to join the Communist Party is examined in Richard Lourie’s fascinating new book Sakharov: A Biography. A scholar who knew Sakharov well, Lourie translated the physicist’s memoirs which were published in the U.S. in 1990. Lourie also spent time with Sakharov after he was exiled for almost seven years to the isolated town of Gorky. The author traces Sakharov’s life from his childhood as the son of a teacher through his career as a brilliant physicist whose central role in developing the H-bomb got him elected to the Soviet Academy of Sciences, the country’s top scientific research center and a key part of its administrative structure. Thanks to the work of Sakharov, the Soviet Union became a superpower, but very early on, he was concerned about the human toll of the "terrible weapon" that he had helped to create. Widely regarded as the leader of the dissident movement within the U.S.S.R and universally acknowledged as an important human rights activist throughout the world, Sakharov was instrumental in getting his country and the U.S. to agree to the Nuclear Test Ban Treaty of 1963. He often signed public letters on behalf of dissidents and had privileges taken from him as a result. After the death of his first wife, Klava, and his marriage to Elena Bonner, a long-time activist for dissidents, Sakharov’s commitment to helping political prisoners in his country became even greater.

In 1975, Sakharov received the Nobel Peace Prize. The citation described him as "a spokesman for the conscience of mankind." A poll taken in the 1990s in the former Soviet Union to identify the country’s most influential figures ranked him at number three. Ahead of him on the list were Lenin and Stalin. Roger Bishop is a regular contributor to BookPage.

 

Best remembered as the father of the Soviet hydrogen bomb, shy, retiring Andrei Sakharov was an unlikely Russian dissident. A renowned physicist, Sakharov was also an independent thinker on such issues as intellectual freedom and human rights. The life of this remarkable man who…

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During his lifetime, author and illustrator Don Freeman (1908-1978) created some of the most beloved classics in children’s literature, including Corduroy, Mop Top and Dandelion. More than 25 years after his death, a lost manuscript and drawings were discovered by Freeman’s son in the attic of the family’s home. This treasure, titled Manuelo and the Playing Mantis, is especially meaningful because it reflects the late author’s own life and love of music. In 1929, Don Freeman went to New York City to study at the Arts Students League. To support himself, he played the trumpet. One night, while sketching on the subway, he almost missed his stop. Springing from the train, he left his instrument behind. Freeman apparently took this as a sign that he should turn his attentions to becoming a full-time artist, and so he began writing and illustrating children’s books in the 1940s. Freeman’s love of music shines through in this tale of a praying mantis named Manuelo who loves to attend outdoor summer concerts. Manuelo knows the names and sounds of all the instruments he hears and wishes that he, too, could become a musician so he sets out to make himself an instrument. At first Manuelo seems destined to fail: his attempts to make music from a reed flute, a trumpet flower and a harp made of twigs all end in disappointment. Then, with the help of Debby Webster (like Charlotte, a very generous and compassionate spider) Manuelo is able to fashion a cello out of a walnut shell, a twig, a bow made from a feather and strings made of silken spider threads. That night, when Manuelo plays his cello, crickets, grasshoppers, katydids and frogs circle around him and make their own music, forming a glorious symphony indeed! In the end, the would-be musician’s determination pays off, making this final offering a story of inspiration. Freeman created another classic with Manuelo, a tale that’s sure to delight old fans and please new readers.

During his lifetime, author and illustrator Don Freeman (1908-1978) created some of the most beloved classics in children's literature, including Corduroy, Mop Top and Dandelion. More than 25 years after his death, a lost manuscript and drawings were discovered by Freeman's son in the attic…
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Richard Schweid’s growing number of fans will be delighted by his new book Consider the Eel. Those acquainted with his work know that he tends to lead readers on a fascinating tour of many things besides the subject at hand. What Schweid offers is a unified picture of human beings and the natural world on which we still (and always will) depend. Schweid accomplished this impressive synthesis in previous books like Catfish and the Delta: Confederate Farm Fishing in the Mississippi Delta and The Cockroach Papers: A Compendium of History and Lore. But Consider the Eel may be his best work yet. With wit and enthusiasm, Schweid tells the story of a fascinating creature that begins its life in the Sargasso Sea before winding up on the American or European coast. Eventually, Schweid tells us, the eels return to the Sargasso. Their lives are clearly ruled by urges we do not yet understand, and the author beautifully captures the mystery of their lives. Although cultures from Pamlico Sound to Valencia depend upon them for food, eels resist domestication. So do most of the people involved with them, as Schweid reveals in his vividly (and amusingly) described trips through eel territory on both sides of the Atlantic. He also documents the odd cultural history of the eel, from the observations of 13th century naturalist Albertus Magnus to contemporary superstitions along both coasts. And he even throws in some recipes along the way.

Schweid is a curious naturalist, a compassionate sociologist and a fine writer. As a world traveler living in Spain and as senior editor of the magazine Barcelona Metropolitan, he has a unique perspective on American life. His books are a wonderful blend of travel narrative, natural history, sociology and pure writing. Each literate, adventurous outing seems more quirky and personal and imaginative than the last. And the craftsmanship just gets better and better precise observation, dry wit, impassioned reporting without a hint of polemic.

Richard Schweid deserves the kind of audience that follows Peter Matthiessen or John McPhee. With Consider the Eel he is one step closer to finding it.

Michael Sims’ new book Adam’s Navel: A Natural and Cultural History of the Human Body will be published by Viking in 2003.

Richard Schweid's growing number of fans will be delighted by his new book Consider the Eel. Those acquainted with his work know that he tends to lead readers on a fascinating tour of many things besides the subject at hand. What Schweid offers is a…
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A friend of mine is always complaining about needing a personal assistant. Her car is a mess, she carries a 50-pound purse, and palm pilots, cell phones and bigger briefcases have failed to bring order to her chaos. If that situation sounds familiar, consult Brian Tracy’s new book, Time Power, which promises to give you two extra productive hours per day. No time to read a book, you say? That’s one of the first mental barriers to get past, says Tracy, because to keep up, you should be reading one hour a day in your chosen field. The book delivers a lecture about writing down goals and gives an overabundance of “16 ways to do this” and “8 steps for that,” which can feel overwhelming. But the topics are great getting yourself organized, overcoming procrastination and avoiding major time wasters so you can pick and choose which chapters apply to you. My favorites include the 45-file system, tips on squeezing maximum productivity out of air travel (getting the right seat is key) and essential project management skills (a chapter that alone is worth $25). Tracy’s favorite bit of advice is to make sure you get up early (5:30 or 6 a.m. at least) and spend the first hour of your day, the “golden hour,” on yourself. Follow the action exercises at the end of each chapter, and soon you’ll be more productive at work and home.

A friend of mine is always complaining about needing a personal assistant. Her car is a mess, she carries a 50-pound purse, and palm pilots, cell phones and bigger briefcases have failed to bring order to her chaos. If that situation sounds familiar, consult…
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<b>The naturalist’s holy grail</b> Martin Davies constructs his suspenseful new novel from two separate stories, both fictional, but one of which rests on actual events of the 18th century. The relationship between past and present is established in an adventure of discovery, reminiscent of A.S. Byatt’s splendid literary novel, <i>Possession</i>. In this case, however, the focus is natural history and less directly, art.

The contemporary chapters are narrated by London taxidermist Fitz Fitzgerald, who quickly informs us that he also teaches Natural Science and rents his upper floor to a Swedish student named Katya. In the first few pages, Davies introduces the reader to major players, real and fictional, and to the facts upon which he builds the story. We learn that The Mysterious Bird of Ulieta was discovered in 1774 by Captain Cook’s expedition to the South Seas. Subsequently, the distinguished natural scientist Joseph Banks acquired the specimen, but its fate thereafter is unknown.

<b>The Conjurer’s Bird</b> is premised on the characters’ belief that the specimen still exists, and they compete to be first to find it. Obsession and passion drive all the characters, real and imagined. Fitz and his associates are obsessed with following fragile leads to The Mysterious Bird of Ulieta and are passionate about their subject. Human love proves inseparable from love of the search. Joseph Banks, who became famous during his lifetime, also pursues his vocation compulsively. Like Fitz, the famous naturalist is caught in a web involving love for a woman and the demands of his work.

From Banks’ broken engagement, which is documented, Davies creates a romantic yet believable story that introduces art into the world of nature. Fitz’s position as protagonist assures us that his motives are honorable. Until the last page, however, we are not sure about the motives of others. Still, Davies’ characters are sufficiently complex to evoke the reader’s sympathy, even though at times we may be inclined to dislike them.

A producer for BBC television, Davies has written two previous novels that feature Sherlock Holmes’ housekeeper. In <b>The Conjurer’s Bird</b> he has created an enchanting fiction that will delight nature lovers as well as readers of good mystery. <i>N.

A. Ransom writes from Nashville.</i>

<b>The naturalist's holy grail</b> Martin Davies constructs his suspenseful new novel from two separate stories, both fictional, but one of which rests on actual events of the 18th century. The relationship between past and present is established in an adventure of discovery, reminiscent of A.S.…
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Americans love to hear good fish stories. We expect the angler to exaggerate his skills, along with the almost insurmountable weather conditions and, most importantly, the size of the elusive finned beast. Romantic notions of the great outdoors and philosophical ruminations must also be included in the tale, because as any weekend warrior will admit fishing is a sport of chance, and the odds do not favor the human species.

Ian Frazier expertly follows the above narrative recipe in The Fish’s Eye, and the result is a delicious concoction of humorous, often self-deprecating essays that cover more than 20 years of chasing the Big One. Frazier, author of On the Rez, hauls his pole and tackle box to a few unlikely fishing holes for some unusual observations. There is New York City’s Harlem Meer, for instance, where even the most amateur handler of bait can catch key rings, plastic globes and the arm of a doll. While fishing in the urban riparian areas of the East Coast for striped bass a fish that can top the scales at 60 pounds or more Frazier makes perhaps the only striper-New Yorker comparison in modern literature. Coming from his expert pen, this could be the start of an entirely new canon. “Striped bass are in many respects the perfect New York fish,” he writes. “They go well with the look of downtown. They are, for starters, pinstriped; the lines along their sides are black fading to light cobalt blue at the edges. The dime-size silver scales look newly minted, and there is an urban glint to the eye and a mobility to the wide predator jaw. If they could talk, they would talk fast.” Many bait and bullet publications proffer advice on how to survive a blizzard with only a postage stamp and a fountain pen. “I wish I had down-to-earth wisdom like that to impart,” Frazier says, “but when I search my knowledge, all that comes to mind is advice that would cause me to run and hide after I gave it.” He is too modest. Through these easy-flowing essays, Frazier shows us that all the wisdom we will ever need to know is within a short walk of the nearest river. Stephen J. Lyons writes from Monticello, Illinois.

Americans love to hear good fish stories. We expect the angler to exaggerate his skills, along with the almost insurmountable weather conditions and, most importantly, the size of the elusive finned beast. Romantic notions of the great outdoors and philosophical ruminations must also be included…
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Thirsting for another expose? Check out The Real Thing: Truth and Power at the Coca-Cola Company. After following the company for the past five years, New York Times writer Constance L. Hays gives the not-so-pretty facts behind the legend of the world’s most famous brand. Coke is truly a 300-pound gorilla on the supermarket shelves, and the guys running the show love nothing more than throwing their weight around. Hays deftly presents the account of the company men who lusted after global domination and the lengths they have gone to in an effort to wipe out the competition. Each chapter is a mini-story, which can leave you hanging as Hays moves to a new subject, but the decades-long conflict with Coke bottlers, the New Coke fiasco and the wars with the pesky Pepsi are fascinating reading.

 

Thirsting for another expose? Check out The Real Thing: Truth and Power at the Coca-Cola Company. After following the company for the past five years, New York Times writer Constance L. Hays gives the not-so-pretty facts behind the legend of the world's most famous…

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"Maybe I am so drawn to Sicily because I am half-Sicilian and the island is hard-wired into my genes," writes Theresa Maggio in The Stone Boudoir. "Or maybe Sicily is a vortex that pulls some people in a center of the universe, like the Omphalos at Delphi, a navel stone that connected some inner world to the outer. . . ." Maggio, who quickly sheds her writerly self-consciousness to create a simple and charming narrative, needs no excuse for searching out her grandparents’ family in Santa Margherita. Her unifying thread a desire to find the tiniest mountain towns, going mostly by the luck of the road and of the sounds of the village names around Mount Etna is more natural than the often forced tone of "finding my roots" books. Traveling mostly in winters, when fares were cheap, and working between trips, staying once as long as a year, she pieces together a family portrait of unshowy sweetness. Unshowy, because Maggio really is half-Sicilian, and her family members like Nella, the "niece of the daughter of my grandmother’s first cousin" are at the same time funny, resilient, sentimental, nervous, superstitious and pious. "Anything that was good’ in Nella’s house was never used. The red ceramic teapot on the back of the stove never felt hot water," Maggio writes, "the glass cruets on the table never tasted oil or vinegar, and as far as I know I am the only one who has ever sat on the dining-room couch." Maggio finds the codes of village life are subtle, indeed. "The wash line tells a story in a semaphore code anyone can read. Without speaking or even being seen, a woman can say, Ha! I have my wash hung before you’re even up.’ Or she can hang boys’ briefs, men’s work clothes, and black shawls to say, I have three sons, two are out of diapers, my husband’s got a job, and my widowed mother lives with us.’ . . . And a woman can signal her lover it is safe to come up by leaving only her nightgown on the line." Still, not everything is funny. Sicilian plumbing is so full of holes (or, depending on who’s talking, held hostage for bribes by a Mafia monopoly) that Nella sometimes goes as much as three weeks without fresh water. Her childhood home, a stone cottage, was destroyed in an earthquake in the winter of 1968, forcing her to live in a tent for a year and a metal barracks for the next 20, because reconstruction money was repeatedly drained off by corruption. Many of her neighbors prefer to live in the old cave dwellings rather than the quake-prone cinderblock complexes at the foot of the mountain.

Maggio discovers street food: octopus, spiny sea urchins cracked open on the spot and scooped out with crusty bread, raw oysters, steamed clams, mussels. She watches processions of relics and saints’ day festivals and shares birthday dinners for hours. And she finds Sicily’s heart ultimately by letting the country come to her as much as she seeks it out.

A companion wine Thanks in part to Mount Etna’s rich volcanic contributions, the soil of Sicily is extremely fine for wine-growing, and the Nero d’Avola grape, though not yet well-known in the U.S., is apt to be the next Merlot, rich, cherry-fruity and with semi-sweet tones of coffee, smoky wood and chocolate, and with sufficient tannin to take a few years’ aging. The Morgante Nero, which sells for only about $12, is just one example; you may also find Nero being blended with Merlot and Cabernet for smoother wines that will open a little earlier.

Eve Zibart is restaurant critic for the weekend section of The Washington Post and author of The Ethnic Food Lover’s Companion.

 

"Maybe I am so drawn to Sicily because I am half-Sicilian and the island is hard-wired into my genes," writes Theresa Maggio in The Stone Boudoir. "Or maybe Sicily is a vortex that pulls some people in a center of the universe, like the…

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Books are so educational. Until thoughtful people provided the public service, even educated adults didn’t realize that horses listen to us as long as we whisper and that cats are quite capable of solving crimes. And until this particular book came along, we didn’t know that dogs maintain their famous calm and dignity by practicing yoga. (Excuse me doga.) The book is Doga: Yoga for Dogs from Chronicle Books. The word is Brilliant. No, that’s not the word for the book; it’s the name of one of the authors: Jennifer Brilliant and William Berloni. The word for the book is Goofy. This new tome devotes 96 pages to outrageous color photographs of dogs practicing doga. Readers will learn, for example, that a dog who practices doga is known as a dogi. You will find a dog practicing the Virabhadrasana, or Warrior Pose. In a sidebar he shares this pearl of wisdom: “Regular practice of warrior helps me to divine where toys are buried.” Clearly these dogs are hoping to achieve inner beauty through yoga, and we wish them luck. Now if we can only get them all to assume the pose of the Downward Facing Dog.

Books are so educational. Until thoughtful people provided the public service, even educated adults didn't realize that horses listen to us as long as we whisper and that cats are quite capable of solving crimes. And until this particular book came along, we didn't know…
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Some of the most prominent figures in early jazz and the glory days of pop music make their bows in Richard M. Sudhalter’s Stardust Melody: The Life and Music of Hoagy Carmichael and James L. Dickerson’s Just for a Thrill: Lil Hardin Armstrong, First Lady of Jazz. Had Hoagy Carmichael (1899-1981) written no other song but Star Dust, his place in music history would be secure. But that tune, which dates back to 1926, was essentially just the beginning of his luminous career. Ahead lay such destined-to-be standards as Georgia on My Mind, Heart and Soul and In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening. Sudhalter, who is a jazz musician himself and a prodigious researcher, presents a sensitive, meticulously documented account of Carmichael’s life as a composer, recording artist, actor and radio and television personality. Central to understanding Carmichael, Sudhalter asserts, is understanding his unwavering affection for his home state of Indiana. To Carmichael, Indiana symbolized the mythic rural home and simple life (both metaphors for youth) that he yearned for. He was born in Bloomington, spent most of his early years there and attended Indiana University. Although he studied law and was finally admitted to practice, it was always jazz that fascinated him. His bands played proms and fraternity parties throughout the region. During this period, he met and began performing with his major musical influence, the brilliant but doomed cornetist Bix Beiderbecke. A procession of gifted lyricists, including Frank Loesser and Johnny Mercer, wrote the words to Carmichael’s melodies. But Sudhalter’s research shows that Carmichael often came up with themes and key phrases and sometimes heavily edited the lyrics provided him. This goes a long way toward explaining why his songs have such a consistent voice and point of view. After Carmichael moved to Hollywood to write songs for the movies, he gradually began to act in them as well. His signature role was Cricket, “the laid-back, laconic, piano-playing sage,” in the 1944 Bogart and Bacall classic To Have and Have Not. Later, he moved into television drama. His big disappointments, Sudhalter says, were that he never wrote a successful Broadway musical nor a long-form “serious” piece, even though he tried both. With the advent of rock n’ roll in the mid-1950s, Carmichael’s run as a popular songwriter came to an end. Just for a Thrill, Jim Dickerson’s biography of Lil Hardin Armstrong, is built more on admiration than information. Except for her songs, documentary remnants of this second wife of Louis Armstrong are scarce. But this doesn’t make Dickerson’s assertion of her musical importance any less valid, and he has performed heroically in tracking down and interpreting the biographical tidbits that do remain.

Lillian Beatrice Hardin was born in Memphis in 1898. She studied piano there and enrolled briefly at Fisk University in Nashville before moving with her mother to Chicago in 1917. After taking a job demonstrating sheet music, she was invited to join a local band. From then on, she worked principally as a performer. Both she and Louis Armstrong were married to other people when they met. But in 1924, they tied the knot, and she became, in fact if not in name, his manager. She also wrote songs for him to record and played on many of his sessions. As Armstrong’s career flowered, however, and his infidelities became more flagrant, the artistic commonality that once held them together slowly vaporized. They divorced in 1938.

Dickerson credits Lil with nagging Armstrong to become a headliner with his own band instead of playing the loyal sideman in someone else’s group. Although he was a supreme trumpet player even as a young man, Dickerson says, Armstrong was too shy and reticent to assert himself. This was where Lil came in. To compensate for a paucity of autobiographical material, Dickerson contextualizes what he has, describing in great detail, for instance, the turn-of-the-century Memphis Lil grew up in. He also chronicles Armstrong’s life. In her later years, Lil Hardin Armstrong saw such stars as Ray Charles, Nancy Wilson and Peggy Lee record her songs. She ran a restaurant, designed clothing (including stage costumes for her ex-husband) and taught music and French. On Aug. 27, 1971, just over a month after Louis Armstrong died, she performed at a concert in his memory. As she finished her opening selection, St. Louis Blues, she collapsed at the piano and died. She was rumored to have been working on her autobiography, but Dickerson says it has never surfaced. Edward Morris reviews from Nashville.

Some of the most prominent figures in early jazz and the glory days of pop music make their bows in Richard M. Sudhalter's Stardust Melody: The Life and Music of Hoagy Carmichael and James L. Dickerson's Just for a Thrill: Lil Hardin Armstrong, First Lady…
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The National Book Award-winning author of How We Die presents another poignant, intelligent narrative humanity’s remarkable ability to endure. Lost in America is a touching account of Nuland’s family history, and it focuses largely on the author’s father, Meyer Nudelman, a Jewish immigrant who arrived in America during the early part of the 20th century. Bringing the crowded tenements of New York City vividly to life, Nuland delivers an affectionate profile of the man, a displaced traveler who never quite feels at home in the midst of fast-paced American culture, and who demands a difficult sort of loyalty from his children. Over the course of the book, as he questions what it means to be a son, the author deftly blends history and autobiography into an unforgettable story. This is a wonderfully detailed retrospective and a profound exploration of the meaning of home and family.

The National Book Award-winning author of How We Die presents another poignant, intelligent narrative humanity's remarkable ability to endure. Lost in America is a touching account of Nuland's family history, and it focuses largely on the author's father, Meyer Nudelman, a Jewish immigrant who arrived…

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