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Lincoln’s legacy lives on Abraham Lincoln was born in February of 1809, in humble surroundings. When he was assassinated 56 years later, he was one of the most famous human beings on earth. Even Uncle Sam himself had gradually evolved into a Lincolnesque figure. To this day Lincoln is the supreme deity in American mythology, and his profile on the penny is the most frequently reproduced portrait in the world. In an author’s note at the front of Lincoln: A Foreigner’s Quest (Simon ∧ Schuster, $23, 0684855151), Jan Morris offers respectful and apologetic gratitude to the living and dead scholars upon whose work she built her own. Perhaps they should thank her instead. Many historians have written about Lincoln, but few have brought the man and his times alive so vividly as Morris does in this 200-page book. She waves her imagination across the dry old facts and they stand up and dance.

Jan Morris first visited the United States during the 1950s, when Lincoln idolatry was at its peak. Over the years Morris remained skeptical but intrigued. Finally, in the late 1990s, she visited contemporary Springfield, researched the city as it was in Lincoln’s time, and wrote about both experiences. She did the same with Gettysburg and Washington and the prairie countryside. The result is this splendid book.

Lincoln rose above his humble origins by becoming a lawyer and a legislator. According to Morris, Lincoln, like many ambitious politicians, made shady deals, rewarded patronage, and made empty promises. Only later, as president, when he had nowhere else to climb and his perpetual melancholy and Shakespearean outlook grew into a sense of destiny, did he rise to the occasion and become an Emersonian great man. Morris’s account of this personal growth is riveting. Although Lincoln never lost his taste for cheap jokes, gradually he replaced the stilted rhetoric of his early years with sinewy prose of almost Elizabethan grandeur.

Morris’s description of slavery also helps bring to life the era and its issues, from the horrors of punishment to the appeal of the genteel slave-based culture of the South. Although in time he opposed slavery, Lincoln considered blacks decidedly inferior and dreamed of their repatriation to their native lands or segregation in a separate colony. Skeptical at first, always objective, Morris nonetheless grew to like her subject. Ultimately she decides that the contradictory aspects of Lincoln’s personality may be resolved by accepting that he was by nature as much an artist as anything else. The moods, the contradictions, the evasiveness, the questioning of accepted truths, the playacting, the sexual complexity, the sad resolution, and the power to move the spirit, all made a poet of this consummate politician. Two other new books address Abraham Lincoln in ways dramatically different ways from Morris’s approach. Historian and novelist Richard Slotkin has written a novel about Lincoln’s upbringing and early years, titled simply Abe. It is an adventurous, violent, and yet thoughtful melodrama based in historical research but not strangled by it.

Usually Slotkin has a light touch that brings the man alive without dressing him up as the myth. This skill shows especially in such scenes as the teenage Abe working on his reading skills, even when he pores over a book that contains the Declaration of Independence. After all, reading really was Lincoln’s salvation, and his first inklings of the power of language and the language of power came from the already sacred American gospels. Slotkin nicely renders the requisite Huck Finn scenes, such as Abe’s momentous journey down the Mississippi. However, there are moments when the author’s admiration for his hero gets out of hand. At one point Slotkin’s teenage Abe is mistaken for a high yaller octoroon and actually quotes Shylock’s Hath not a Jew eyes? speech with references to slaves replacing those to Jews. Jan Morris is skeptical about the mythological Abraham Lincoln, and Richard Slotkin’s narrative urge is inspired by both the myths and the facts. Another new book examines the ways in which Lincoln’s powerful figure captured the imagination of Hollywood and other purveyors of popular culture. Abraham Lincoln: Twentieth-Century Popular Portrayals, by Frank Thompson (Taylor, $26.95, 0878332413), is a curious labor of love. Thompson has thoughtfully examined every movie about Lincoln, including silents, and also the many portrayals on television. After all, the cinematic Lincoln ranges the spectrum from Henry Fonda’s Young Mr. Lincoln to comic appearances in Police Squad and Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Through this surprisingly entertaining tour, Thompson evaluates the popular status of Abraham Lincoln. Apparently the myth is alive and well.

Michael Sims is the author of Darwin’s Orchestra (Henry Holt).

Lincoln's legacy lives on Abraham Lincoln was born in February of 1809, in humble surroundings. When he was assassinated 56 years later, he was one of the most famous human beings on earth. Even Uncle Sam himself had gradually evolved into a Lincolnesque figure. To…

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King Louis XIV of France seems popular in science fiction these days. He is the subject of both a new movie, The Man in the Iron Mask, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, and Vonda McIntyre’s most recent science fiction novel, The Moon and the Sun. Now J. Gregory Keyes, author of the new classic, The Waterborn, mixes Sir Isaac Newton, King Louis XIV, King George I, and Benjamin Franklin in a philosophical, fantastical search for truth, beauty, power, and fabulous wealth. In Newton’s Cannon, it’s 1681, and scientist and mathematician Sir Isaac Newton has turned his talent to his first love the ancient art of alchemy. Newton achieves the impossible by unleashing Philosopher’s Mercury, a source of matter and a key to manipulating the four elements: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. King Louis and King George battle for its control, and as English armies march on Paris, King Louis calls for a new weapon, a device known only as Newton’s Cannon. It is a machine whose secrets the beautiful and talented Adrienne de Montchevreuil labors to unlock before it’s too late.

Meanwhile, in Boston, a young apprentice named Benjamin Franklin discovers a deadly enigma. Pursued by his enemies, Ben furtively makes his way to England. Only Newton can save him, but Newton needs saving himself. This scintillating and brilliant new novel confirms Keyes as a rapidly rising star in the science fiction firmament.

Reviewed by Larry Woods.

King Louis XIV of France seems popular in science fiction these days. He is the subject of both a new movie, The Man in the Iron Mask, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, and Vonda McIntyre's most recent science fiction novel, The Moon and the Sun. Now J.…
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Lincoln’s legacy lives on Abraham Lincoln was born in February of 1809, in humble surroundings. When he was assassinated 56 years later, he was one of the most famous human beings on earth. Even Uncle Sam himself had gradually evolved into a Lincolnesque figure. To this day Lincoln is the supreme deity in American mythology, and his profile on the penny is the most frequently reproduced portrait in the world. In an author’s note at the front of Lincoln: A Foreigner’s Quest, Jan Morris offers respectful and apologetic gratitude to the living and dead scholars upon whose work she built her own. Perhaps they should thank her instead. Many historians have written about Lincoln, but few have brought the man and his times alive so vividly as Morris does in this 200-page book. She waves her imagination across the dry old facts and they stand up and dance.

Jan Morris first visited the United States during the 1950s, when Lincoln idolatry was at its peak. Over the years Morris remained skeptical but intrigued. Finally, in the late 1990s, she visited contemporary Springfield, researched the city as it was in Lincoln’s time, and wrote about both experiences. She did the same with Gettysburg and Washington and the prairie countryside. The result is this splendid book.

Lincoln rose above his humble origins by becoming a lawyer and a legislator. According to Morris, Lincoln, like many ambitious politicians, made shady deals, rewarded patronage, and made empty promises. Only later, as president, when he had nowhere else to climb and his perpetual melancholy and Shakespearean outlook grew into a sense of destiny, did he rise to the occasion and become an Emersonian great man. Morris’s account of this personal growth is riveting. Although Lincoln never lost his taste for cheap jokes, gradually he replaced the stilted rhetoric of his early years with sinewy prose of almost Elizabethan grandeur.

Morris’s description of slavery also helps bring to life the era and its issues, from the horrors of punishment to the appeal of the genteel slave-based culture of the South. Although in time he opposed slavery, Lincoln considered blacks decidedly inferior and dreamed of their repatriation to their native lands or segregation in a separate colony. Skeptical at first, always objective, Morris nonetheless grew to like her subject. Ultimately she decides that the contradictory aspects of Lincoln’s personality may be resolved by accepting that he was by nature as much an artist as anything else. The moods, the contradictions, the evasiveness, the questioning of accepted truths, the playacting, the sexual complexity, the sad resolution, and the power to move the spirit, all made a poet of this consummate politician. Two other new books address Abraham Lincoln in ways dramatically different ways from Morris’s approach. Historian and novelist Richard Slotkin has written a novel about Lincoln’s upbringing and early years, titled simply Abe (Henry Holt, $27.50, 0805041230). It is an adventurous, violent, and yet thoughtful melodrama based in historical research but not strangled by it.

Usually Slotkin has a light touch that brings the man alive without dressing him up as the myth. This skill shows especially in such scenes as the teenage Abe working on his reading skills, even when he pores over a book that contains the Declaration of Independence. After all, reading really was Lincoln’s salvation, and his first inklings of the power of language and the language of power came from the already sacred American gospels. Slotkin nicely renders the requisite Huck Finn scenes, such as Abe’s momentous journey down the Mississippi. However, there are moments when the author’s admiration for his hero gets out of hand. At one point Slotkin’s teenage Abe is mistaken for a high yaller octoroon and actually quotes Shylock’s Hath not a Jew eyes? speech with references to slaves replacing those to Jews. Jan Morris is skeptical about the mythological Abraham Lincoln, and Richard Slotkin’s narrative urge is inspired by both the myths and the facts. Another new book examines the ways in which Lincoln’s powerful figure captured the imagination of Hollywood and other purveyors of popular culture. Abraham Lincoln: Twentieth-Century Popular Portrayals, by Frank Thompson (Taylor, $26.95, 0878332413), is a curious labor of love. Thompson has thoughtfully examined every movie about Lincoln, including silents, and also the many portrayals on television. After all, the cinematic Lincoln ranges the spectrum from Henry Fonda’s Young Mr. Lincoln to comic appearances in Police Squad and Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Through this surprisingly entertaining tour, Thompson evaluates the popular status of Abraham Lincoln. Apparently the myth is alive and well.

Michael Sims is the author of Darwin’s Orchestra (Henry Holt).

Lincoln's legacy lives on Abraham Lincoln was born in February of 1809, in humble surroundings. When he was assassinated 56 years later, he was one of the most famous human beings on earth. Even Uncle Sam himself had gradually evolved into a Lincolnesque figure. To…
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Wonderfully chaotic. This is how the authors of Mom Central generously describe the lives of typical parents. The first adjective is occasionally up for debate, but the second one is a perennially accurate description. Mom Central is a resource designed to create order from chaos. Bless them.

Lists are good, but lists only work when they can be found. Mom Central is essentially a books of lists just about every list a family will ever need permanently organized, color-coded, transportable, and updatable.

The authors created Mom Central when the disparity between business management and family management became all too frustratingly apparent. They sought to adapt the “organizational structure and proactive management systems” of their professional lives to the needs of their home lives. The most crucial material comes first: “Emergency and Medical.” Caregivers have immediate access to all pertinent information: family names and addresses; phone numbers for police, poison control, neighbors, pediatricians, etc. It includes “Permission to Treat” forms and charts for past and present medications and vaccinations.

Other headings and some of their highlights include “Children ∧ Family” (back-to-school shopping, homework planning, goal-setting); “Child Care” (finding a nanny, selecting a Day Care, information for sitters); “Grown Ups” (family history, safe deposit box, daily to-do list, birthdays, shopping lists); “Entertaining” (child and adult party planners, holidays); “Home, Car ∧ Pet” (capital improvements and repairs, safety and maintenance, warranty records, car information, pet care while away, whom to contact for utilities and services); “Travel” (planning for day trips and longer outings, packing).

Don’t let the number of headings be intimidating: The authors stress that Mom Central should help relieve stress. It’s designed to accommodate individual needs and personal organizational thresholds. Even if only one or two sections are used, life could be immeasurably simplified. Who couldn’t use a little more order and a little less chaos? By the way, Mom Central is an act of charity itself, but the authors take it a step further and donate part of the proceeds to charities benefiting women and children. Reviewed by Joanna Brichetto.

Wonderfully chaotic. This is how the authors of Mom Central generously describe the lives of typical parents. The first adjective is occasionally up for debate, but the second one is a perennially accurate description. Mom Central is a resource designed to create order from chaos.…

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Only the most riveting and surprising books at least one eyebrow-popping surprise per page rate a place of honor on our bathroom bookshelf. Such books should be diverting and preferably brilliant; no long fiction, please, and frankly, I’m tired of trivia tomes and porcelain poetry. How about a book that explains the mystery of all these deodorants, unguents, balms, perfumes, safety razors, disposable diapers, and the evolution of drugstores from prehistory to their current sorry state? Imagine my delight to find Vince Staten’s newest book, subtitled “A Trip Inside the Corner Drugstore.” A trip? It’s more like a safari into a forgotten world. If you’re old enough to remember phosphates and egg creams at the soda fountain, the blood-building iron/sugar/alcohol magic of Geritol tonic and that weird old crone staring at you from the label of Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound, you’ll immediately recall the great smell of the old corner drugstore. That’s what you miss in the sterile breathing atmosphere of a modern chain pharmacy.

In the hands of a less risible writer, a book about America’s corner drugstores could be literary Sominex, fit only for the bedroom shelf; or worse, one long arch bathroom joke. But fans of Staten’s previous books will understand why I actually cracked a rib laughing at his method of scientific inquiry, as directed toward product packaging. (Two words: Fuji audiotapes.) He relates unbelievably wild but true anecdotes about the origins of some name-brand products. A thousand incredible factoids are sprinkled throughout the book. (Fingernails grow faster in warm weather; body odor may be a natural defense against being eaten by predators; the disposable-diaper boom began with one disgusted grandfather.) Staten’s style is not just comfortably conversational, but also perfectly funny in the oddest spots. For instance, he personally tests Rogaine over a four-month period, to hilarious effect. The historical record is probed with deftness and taste, revealing a thousand years of cultural embarrassment over our own bodies. Its pinnacle, the toxic shock of Victorian morality, made certain hygiene and health products invisible. Prudes literally died before discussing parts or functions of the body that were verbally taboo. (Even today, Preparation H is one of the most shoplifted items.) No one could conquer their shyness enough to purchase sanitary pads, so an advertising genius hid it at the back of the drugstore, next to a money-box; Kotex, a giant in the multi-billion-dollar feminine-hygiene market, began as an open sack of product on a bench, self-serve, sold on the honor system.

What makes this a great bathroom book is not only that it can be read with real enjoyment, and to tatters, over a 50-year period by the same person. No, after reading it, you’ll want six more books by Staten for all the other rooms in your house. And he’s already written them.

Reviewed by Jeff Taylor.

Only the most riveting and surprising books at least one eyebrow-popping surprise per page rate a place of honor on our bathroom bookshelf. Such books should be diverting and preferably brilliant; no long fiction, please, and frankly, I'm tired of trivia tomes and porcelain poetry.…

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What explains the current rage for the 17th-century Italian artist known as Caravaggio ? Is it his realistic, almost photorealistic technique of somber darkness contrasted with spotlighted rose-pink cheeks, lush limbs, and the naughty bits of teasing nudes? Is it his scandalous life a whirligig of recurring assault, debauchery, pederasty, and murder in that era fabled for hypocrisy and repression, the Counter-Reformation? Whatever the appeal, new biographies and critical studies, of man and artist have been appearing with increasing frequency, buttressed by recent discoveries in the libraries, studies, and most importantly, criminal court proceedings of Rome, Naples, Sicily, and Malta.

In a relatively brief life, which ended at age 37 or 39 by murder or disease in a place much disputed, Caravaggio certainly got around. He also dominated the Italian painting of his day, bringing ordinary humans to life as actors in the most touching, strange, and violent stories of the Judeo-Christian tradition.

Peter Robb, an enthusiast who capably draws upon academic scholarship but brooks no constraints upon his own insights and creative inferences, has produced in M: The Man Who Became Caravaggio a lengthy, colorful, anecdotal, quirky, and totally engaging artist’s biography. His puckish title sets the tone: His subject, perhaps named Michelangelo Merisi, was known by 15 different surnames, most beginning with the letter M, but is remembered as Caravaggio, the name of his hometown. In other words, though Robb hauls in numerous facts, the lives and careers of other painters, prostitutes, and cardinals, conflicts between the Spanish and French parties in the Catholic Church, politics in the papacy, and much, much more, he continually reminds us that very little is actually known about the most admired and notorious painter of his day.

Somehow amidst the turmoil, this inimitable genius created an indelibly original body of work. Robb traces his growth from heady sensuality to profound evocation of the human condition and his courage in defying the decorum mandated by the Church and enforced by the Inquisition. Sixteen pages of illustrations enhance these discussions.

A sprawling, not entirely disciplined work of ardent passion, M: The Man Who Became Caravaggio could be a bit shorter and less repetitious but is a feast of art appreciation, storytelling, and witty speculation for anyone interested in Caravaggio’s shadowy theater of the partly seen and the institutionalized banditry and brutality of 17th-century Europe.

Charles Flowers, who lives in Purdys, New York, is currently writing about Orientalism in American art.

What explains the current rage for the 17th-century Italian artist known as Caravaggio ? Is it his realistic, almost photorealistic technique of somber darkness contrasted with spotlighted rose-pink cheeks, lush limbs, and the naughty bits of teasing nudes? Is it his scandalous life a whirligig…

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Glassware, silverware, chi-na! Dirty dishes and kitch-en utensils! This was the mantra of our seventh-grade home economics teacher. Mrs. Douglas chirped the words as we sat scowling by our assigned “kitchenettes.” It was our rally call signaling us to assume positions at the sink and start cleaning. There were some of us, however, who secretly liked home ec some of us who still do. Here’s a fabulous book for those who have gotten in touch with their inner housecleaner.

Appealing to the voyeur in all of us, Louise Rafkin escorts us into strangers often strange homes in Other People’s Dirt: A Housecleaner’s Adventures from Cape Cod to Kyoto. It is hilarious reading. Think David Sedaris as a maid.

It would behoover you to read it.

Reviewed by Katherine H. Wyrick.

Glassware, silverware, chi-na! Dirty dishes and kitch-en utensils! This was the mantra of our seventh-grade home economics teacher. Mrs. Douglas chirped the words as we sat scowling by our assigned "kitchenettes." It was our rally call signaling us to assume positions at the sink and…
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Why do we need another bird guide? Isn’t there one sticking out of the back pocket of every binoculars-owner in the world? Changes in range and modifications of taxonomy require updated editions of existing guides, but why a new one? Because, like species themselves, guides exist for different reasons, in different eras, and frequently profit from studying their competitors.

The new guide by distinguished birder, illustrator and writer David Allen Sibley, The Sibley Guide to Birds, has magnum opus and labor of love stamped all over it. To begin with, some statistics: 554 gorgeous pages in an oversized weather-resistant flex-paper format, describing 810 species and 350 regional populations, with more than 6,600 illustrations. The artwork is gorgeous and the writing clear and crisp. Species are shown both flying and perched or swimming, usually in every seasonal and juvenile variation of their plumage. Every species gets its own range map and detailed voice description. Families are introduced with pages of side-by-side comparison. And the format is identical throughout. No other bird guide is easier to get used to or more comprehensive than The Sibley Guide to Birds.

Much less comprehensive and more condensed than Sibley’s book but still valuable, especially for beginners is Kenn Kaufman’s Birds of North America. Kaufman has taken 2,000 photographs and digitally revised and enhanced them to clarify identification. There are two schools of thought about field guides. One maintains that paintings permit a more representative picture of a bird’s likely overall plumage; the other insists that photographs work better than paintings, by providing a single example of a real bird, not a synthesis of traits. By exploiting the technological possibilities of the computer age, Kaufman aimed for the virtues of both methods. He has largely succeeded, and in the process created a handy, pocket-size guide that is easy to use.

Why do we need another bird guide? Isn't there one sticking out of the back pocket of every binoculars-owner in the world? Changes in range and modifications of taxonomy require updated editions of existing guides, but why a new one? Because, like species themselves, guides…

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75 years of painting the town read The journalist Richard Rovere once said of Harold Ross, the founding editor of the New Yorker magazine, that his fundamental contribution to journalism was his fight for the dignity of the printed word.

Read in the context of our own day, when the relentless trivialization of journalism has the dignity of the printed word pretty much down for the count, Rovere’s statement rings with bitter piquancy. All the more so when you consider that the fight wasn’t nearly so desperate in Ross’s time: that brief window when an erudite little Ôcomic paper,’ as Thomas Kunkel said in his biography of Ross five years ago, could be a major cultural force in a way that is unthinkable now. That brief window has long been closed, which is one of the assessments made by Ben Yagoda in About Town: The New Yorker and the World It Made (Scribner, $27.50, 0684816059), one of a small flurry of books being published to mark this month’s 75th anniversary of the magazine. I have a shelf of books about the New Yorker, from James Thurber’s The Years with Ross of 1958 to Ved Mehta’s paean to William Shawn, Ross’s successor, of 40 years later, and About Town is one I am happy to add to it. It is probably longer than it needs to be, but New Yorker fans eager to absorb every fact, and every opinion about every fact, of the magazine’s history will not find length a defect.

Most of the books on that shelf are biographies or autobiographies or reminiscences. Yagoda has produced something different: a critical and cultural history that looks at the magazine’s content, how it originated and how it evolved, and at the role the magazine has played in American cultural life for three-quarters of a century. His book is the first to be based in large part on the New Yorker archives recently made available by the New York Public Library, which are amazingly voluminous. Imagine coming across a 1949 letter written to the editors by a totally obscure 17-year-old named John Updike.

Like Kunkel and others who have written about the New Yorker, Yagoda gives chief credit for its success in its first two decades to that improbable genius, Ross, and his finicky concern for the clarity of the printed word. Ross’s genius also lay in choosing excellent founding writers and editors, particularly that triumvirate of Thurber, E.B White, and Katherine Angell (later White’s wife). Other blocks in the foundation, according to Yagoda, were that nebulous concept, sophistication ; the focus on New York; the concern with shifting class lines; and, perhaps most important, the cartoons and other art.

In great detail, About Town describes the development of such elements as the Profile and the New Yorker short story and how they have changed. As to the latter, there is somewhat of a paradox. Though Yagoda rightly points out that the magazine’s intense reluctance to stretch has restricted its short-story range, the cumulative effect is of an illustrious fiction record overall.

The author believes the magazine had its golden age in the decade preceding Pearl Harbor a time in its history when it was poised gracefully between the formless and sometimes brittle levity that came before and the unquestionably meritorious, occasionally splendid, but frequently solemn, ponderous, self-important, or dull magazine that stretched from the Second World War on up to the 1980s. He also sees another brief golden age in the 1970s, when it got over solemnizing about the Vietnam War.

So, though he doesn’t use Kunkel’s notion of a brief window of cultural influence that I cited above, Yagoda clearly agrees with it. Aside from a short epilogue taking the magazine up to the present, he ends the book proper in 1987, when Shawn was let go. With that act, the slowly closing window banged shut, and the magazine’s story as a unique and influential institution in our culture ended.

In the first 62 years of its existence, the New Yorker had two visionary editors and was a thing unto itself. In the last 13 it has had three interchangeable editors and grows ever more indistinguishable from Vanity Fair and the rest of that glossy, celebrity-hunting crowd. To those of us who remain fans it is still the best of the lot, but think what that says about how sorry the lot has become. To be fair, think what it says about cultures getting the institutions they deserve.

Roger K. Miller is a freelance writer in Wisconsin.

75 years of painting the town read The journalist Richard Rovere once said of Harold Ross, the founding editor of the New Yorker magazine, that his fundamental contribution to journalism was his fight for the dignity of the printed word.

Read in…

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Glassware, silverware, chi-na! Dirty dishes and kitch-en utensils! This was the mantra of our seventh-grade home economics teacher. Mrs. Douglas chirped the words as we sat scowling by our assigned “kitchenettes.” It was our rally call signaling us to assume positions at the sink and start cleaning. There were some of us, however, who secretly liked home ec some of us who still do. Here’s a fabulous book for those who have gotten in touch with their inner housecleaner.

Don’t let the cover fool you, Biting the Dust: The Joys of Housework by Margaret Horsfield (St. Martin’s, $24.95, 0312212143) is no campy portrait of domestic bliss but an exhaustive exploration of housework and its history. It will surprise you with its humor and insight.

It would behoover you to read it.

Reviewed by Katherine H. Wyrick.

Glassware, silverware, chi-na! Dirty dishes and kitch-en utensils! This was the mantra of our seventh-grade home economics teacher. Mrs. Douglas chirped the words as we sat scowling by our assigned "kitchenettes." It was our rally call signaling us to assume positions at the sink and…

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The authors of BLUR: The Speed of Change in the Connected Economy make the case that it’s increasingly difficult to tell the difference between a product and a service. Stan Davis and Christopher Meyer, both associated with the Ernst ∧ Young Center for Business Innovation, start with this provocative quote: “Has the pace of change accelerated well beyond your comfort zone? Are the rules that guided your decisions in the past no longer reliable? . . . You are experiencing things as they really are, a BLUR.” By necessity a bit general, BLUR does give us a framework with which to understand the changes going on around us. The authors cite speed, connectivity, and the increasing value of the intangible over the tangible as the guiding forces of the economic revolution. A couple of quick examples of intangible value are the value of brands and the increasing value of intellectual capital (what’s in people’s heads) over hard assets, especially for technology companies. Most of the examples cited from the book are from the Internet or from high-tech companies, even though two-thirds of Americans still aren’t even online. Still, even if we all haven’t moved to an economy where companies join with suppliers and even competitors on mutually beneficial projects and bricks-and-mortar assets are viewed as a negative, we’re all headed in that direction. Although sometimes guilty of employing buzzwords, the authors offer a knowledgeable introduction to a changing world and some advice on how to cope with it.

Davis and Meyer devote an entire section to the changed meaning of career in their blurred economy. They write of “the disappearing line between you as laborer and capitalist” and they even envision the development of financial instruments based on individuals’ work value, like David Bowie’s offering of bonds that securitized his future earnings. In short, the careerist is becoming a free agent who develops short-term relationships with employers, often more than one at a time.

Reviewed by Neil Lipschutz.

The authors of BLUR: The Speed of Change in the Connected Economy make the case that it's increasingly difficult to tell the difference between a product and a service. Stan Davis and Christopher Meyer, both associated with the Ernst ∧ Young Center for Business Innovation,…

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Ken Wells’s first novel, Meely LaBauve, portrays a young man’s coming of age in the Cajun country of lower-Louisiana during the 1960s. Though the coming-of-age novel has been done many times over, it’s never been done quite this way and seldom has it been done this well. Meely (short for Emile) relates his story to the reader and is as likable and funny as a latter-day Huckleberry Finn. Even the various adventures Meely gets into, with his friends Chickie Naquin and Joey Hebert, alternately playing Tom Sawyer to his Huck, are reminiscent of Mark Twain, and like much of Twain’s fiction, Wells’s book works on more than one level. Like Twain, Wells uses humor to pull the reader in as he confronts the issue of race relations.

Since losing his mother, Meely has been forced to do for himself. He hunts and fishes the Catahoula Bayou for food he alone prepares and even grows a tiny garden on the crumbling old homeplace he shares with his father, who is more often hunting alligators and drinking than home raising his son. Meely is small for his age and rarely attends school. When he does, he gets picked on by many of the bigger boys, especially Junior Guidry a longtime eighth grader too big for his age. Junior and his gang have it in for Meely, labeling him with the derogatory name Sabine (on his father’s side, Meely is descended from wild injun blood, a group as equally despised by Junior as the black families who work the cane fields). Though Meely is not afraid to fight, he is also not above running away.

Meely becomes friends with Cassie Jackson, a beautiful young black woman. Then they become more than friends the discovery of sexuality being another necessary staple of the coming-of-age novel, though here it is sweetly rendered. Through their relationship, Wells is able to contrast the racism Meely is victim to with that felt by the African-American characters.

Soon Meely, set up by Junior, is in trouble with the police, but rather than run, he decides to take a stand.

Though the book is often laugh-out-loud funny, Meely LaBauve is no less poignant because of its honed sense of humor. Wells, an award-winning journalist for the Wall Street Journal, has carved a sincere and courageous portrait of a boy becoming a man under uneasy conditions from what might have seemed hackneyed material in less capable hands.

R. Todd Smith is a writer in Macon, Georgia.

Ken Wells's first novel, Meely LaBauve, portrays a young man's coming of age in the Cajun country of lower-Louisiana during the 1960s. Though the coming-of-age novel has been done many times over, it's never been done quite this way and seldom has it been done…

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From Bertice Berry comes this inspiring debut novel, both a modern love story and a tribute to the power of the written word.

Josephine Fina Chambers and Ross Buchannan meet in Black Images, a small, unique African-American bookstore both in search of Children of Grace, a slave woman’s book of memories. But there is one problem: There is only one copy of this rare book in the store. So the owner of the store, Miss Cosy, insists that the book is not for sale, but agrees to let them both read it on two conditions: They must read it aloud together, and the book cannot leave the store.

I don’t know when I was borned, but now I know why. I was put here to tell a story. A story of love. Cause love is powerful and can’t nothing stop it. Not even the place I’m in can stop my love. They call it slavery. I call it death. And so begins Iona’s story, her heart-breaking story of slavery, and a whole new world is opened to Fina and Ross. They enter the world of chains and of forbidden love. Iona tells of her intense, real love for the slave man Joe, a love which is not recognized within the bonds of slavery. They are torn from each other as Joe is sold to another plantation, and Iona comes to see what bitterness and pain life can hold.

Iona’s story holds important lessons for Fina and Ross. They come to understand the importance of the connections between people even when painful, love is worth fighting for. They begin to cherish their heritage, and to learn from the past and the experiences of others. They see that people before them lived through tough times, and they can too. Finally, they come to recognize the power of books, their ability to influence people and change lives.

As Iona writes to conclude her story, Learn from this past that’s yours. Take the gift of what I done seen and use it to love. This is the Recipe of Life, the road to freedom. Freedom just ain’t about living free its about being free. The chains on our wrist ain’t as strong as the ones on our mind. The only thing that can win over evil is love. Learn to love, strive to love, cause we ain’t got time for nothing else.

From Bertice Berry comes this inspiring debut novel, both a modern love story and a tribute to the power of the written word.

Josephine Fina Chambers and Ross Buchannan meet in Black Images, a small, unique African-American bookstore both in search of…

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