Heather Seggel

NonfictionPop Culture

A hip and culinary trip to China

Review by Heather Seggel

It’s fitting that Eddie Huang’s follow-up to the bestselling Fresh Off the Boat—adapted into a TV series—opens as he phonetically transcribes a Charlie Parker sax riff. Double Cup Love: On the Trail of Family, Food, and Broken Hearts in China is a foodie travelogue and comic tour de force, but it’s also something of a word-jazz concerto.

The setup is simple: Feeling pressured by his success, Huang ventures to Chengdu to cook with street vendors and dig further into the roots of the food he’s known for. He also plans to fly his girlfriend out and propose. 

Huang’s hip-hop patois infuses his writing, whether he’s describing a bout of chili-induced diarrhea (and there are several) or exploring the difficult family dynamics that shaped him as a young man. He captures the pressures of the kitchen, which are even greater while he’s in China, since as often as not he’s cooking in a converted closet, battling chili fumes along with carbon monoxide. 

Huang’s romance takes some unexpected twists (on his way to propose he is almost left behind at a rest stop where he’s once again paying for his gastronomic bravery), but Double Cup Love has more to offer than that. The rooftop parties and underground clubs, chewy intestines and all that swagger reveal a family story that’s tender at the core.

 

This article was originally published in the June 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

It’s fitting that Eddie Huang’s follow-up to the bestselling Fresh Off the Boat—adapted into a TV series—opens as he phonetically transcribes a Charlie Parker sax riff. Double Cup Love: On the Trail of Family, Food, and Broken Hearts in China is a foodie travelogue and comic tour de force, but it’s also something of a word-jazz concerto.
NonfictionAnimals

A dogged defense

Review by Heather Seggel

Pit bulls used to be beloved family pets, movie stars and even war heroes. But over time, the dogs that had been America’s darlings developed a bad reputation. If you think that’s as it should be because pit bulls are bred to fight, or because their jaws exert more pressure than other dogs, or because they have aggressive temperaments, think again. Pit Bull: The Battle over an American Icon traces the breed’s current pariah status to some shameful and familiar sources.

Author Bronwen Dickey looks at pits throughout history. Their eagerness to learn made them ideal for acting roles, and they were brave companions to Civil War regiments. There’s no statistical support for the notion that pits harm more people than any other breed of dog, and they don’t actually have magical vise-grip jaws (a “fact” not supported by any real evidence). Media hysteria and scapegoating of the urban poor combined to make the pit bull an easy target. In fact, overblown reporting on the dog-fighting phenomenon not only led to an increase in this cruel sport but also gave the activity additional street cred. 

Dickey, a contributing editor at the Oxford American, repeatedly draws parallels between treatment of poor and disenfranchised humans and their dogs, and it’s damning testimony. Animal advocates take pets away from owners they’ve deemed “unfit” when what the owners really need is access to services that many others take for granted. Breed-specific legislation has yet to lead to a decrease in dog bites, but it’s still widely supported. If you’re bitten by a poodle it’s unlikely to be news, but a pit bull “attack” still sells papers in much the same way shark attacks do (one paper called pits “sharks on paws”). As one observer tells Dickey, “As long as there are different classes of people, there will be different classes of dogs.” 

With Dickey’s thorough reporting on a provocative topic, Pit Bull shows how the human need for something to blame can put innocent victims in the crosshairs.

RELATED CONTENT: Read our interview with Dickey about Pit Bull. 

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Pit bulls used to be beloved family pets, movie stars and even war heroes. But over time, the dogs that had been America’s darlings developed a bad reputation. If you think that’s as it should be because pit bulls are bred to fight, or because their jaws exert more pressure than other dogs, or because they have aggressive temperaments, think again. Pit Bull: The Battle over an American Icon traces the breed’s current pariah status to some shameful and familiar sources.
NonfictionMemoir

Comment tu dis . . . kale?

Review by Heather Seggel

Kristen Beddard moved to Paris as a “trailing spouse,” relocating for her new husband’s job but sure she’d find work of her own soon enough. Her joy gave way to homesickness that cried out for comfort food, but zut alors! The French, they did not, how do you say, have any kale. Or rather, they thought they did, perkily handing over savoy cabbages at every market and farm stand Beddard visited. Undaunted, she continued her quest for leafy greens, a calling that’s documented with charming style in Bonjour Kale.

Beddard’s tales of growing up with a health-foodie mother (and the inclusion of some of her nourishing recipes) make it clear the author was not an entitled monster demanding smoothies from her new neighbors. Once she learned that kale had become a “lost and forgotten” vegetable in France, it was a short leap to realizing that the American focus on kale as a “superfood” wouldn’t fly with the French, who found such ideas ridiculous. Still, Beddard’s efforts persisted, and her dogged outreach led her to better fluency in the language and new friendships. 

This is a sweet story, and the included recipes follow a nice arc, from Entry-Level Vegetable Soup, a simple, low-cost belly-warmer, to recipes created by a chef who figured into her later success, creating an all-kale menu to help bring the message to the masses. Read closer, though, and you’ll see how many times Beddard was ready to give up, but managed to do one small thing to nudge the project along; her persistence is inspiring. Bonjour Kale reminds us not only to eat our greens but also to follow our dreams.

 

This article was originally published in the May 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Kristen Beddard moved to Paris as a “trailing spouse,” relocating for her new husband’s job but sure she’d find work of her own soon enough. Her joy gave way to homesickness that cried out for comfort food, but zut alors! The French, they did not, how do you say, have any kale. Or rather, they thought they did, perkily handing over savoy cabbages at every market and farm stand Beddard visited. Undaunted, she continued her quest for leafy greens, a calling that’s documented with charming style in Bonjour Kale.
NonfictionArts & CultureArt

A painting that became an obsession

Review by Heather Seggel

The sense that something purchased cheaply at an auction may turn out to be priceless treasure did not originate with “Antiques Roadshow.” Consider the case of John Snare, an English bookseller who picked up a painting of King Charles I that raised more questions than he could readily answer. The Vanishing Velázquez: A 19th Century Bookseller's Obsession with a Lost Masterpiece merges history and mystery, obsession and deception, yet views the works in question with a clear and illuminating eye.

Author and Observer art critic Laura Cumming (A Face to the World) traces Snare's lifelong obsession with and devotion to his painting, which he believed to be the work of Diego Velázquez, and which ultimately led him to ruin before he was able to definitively confirm its provenance. Snare was alternately derided as a lunatic and thought of as a visionary, and the painting changes hands so many times it can be hard for readers to keep track of its whereabouts.

Cumming also sketches the artist's life and work—Velázquez is notable for a tender and affectionate view of his subjects—in language that brings each portrait to life. Though Velázquez is compared to Shakespeare because so little is known of his actual life, Cumming finds that we are able to deduce much from the artist’s subject matter and the way he portrayed himself, "to know (him) through his work."

While Snare and Velázquez are both somewhat hard to trace, the details unearthed here are rich ones; Snare's bookshop and printing business are vividly evoked, and his journey to America and time in New York's burgeoning art world are a bold adventure. Still, we are left to wonder, what of the family he left behind? The Vanishing Velázquez offers a penetrating look at art and the lengths to which it can move the human heart.

The sense that something purchased cheaply at an auction may turn out to be priceless treasure did not originate with “Antiques Roadshow.” Consider the case of John Snare, an English bookseller who picked up a painting of King Charles I that raised more questions than he could readily answer. The Vanishing Velázquez: A 19th Century Bookseller's Obsession with a Lost Masterpiece merges history and mystery, obsession and deception, yet views the works in question with a clear and illuminating eye.
YA FictionYA

Summer of changes

Review by Heather Seggel

After growing up under the long shadow of her absentee mother and dealing with her grandfather’s lofty expectations, Ivy is looking forward to a brain-dead summer before her senior year. Those plans go right out the window when her mother turns up with intentions to move back into the family home along with her two new kids. Readjusting to this bombshell cramps Ivy’s style, and it only gets worse when her mom pretends that Ivy is her sister, calling her “Aunt Ivy” in front of the new children. Wild Swans swings from dream summer to mega-bummer and back again.

If the plot twists and a multigenerational family curse get a little snarled from time to time, they don’t drag things down. The pleasure here is getting lost in Ivy’s enormous house, with its widow’s walk and library and carriage house, and hanging out with her friends and not one but two potential love interests. There’s a mere sketch of a subplot about one friend’s younger sibling who is showing signs of gender variance—much to the family’s Southern small-town consternation—that is handled with insight and grace.

The town of Cecil is like a character itself, cozy enough so that you know your neighbors, and they darn well know you’re not your mother’s sister. (The scene where a well-meaning bookstore worker outs Ivy to her sisters may be tough news for them, but it’s still a riot to read.) Rich in atmosphere, Wild Swans is also a touching look at a family struggling with a big question: Can you break free of your past and still honor its traditions?

Wild Swans swings from dream summer to mega-bummer and back again.

Children's & YAPicture Book

An old toy with a lot of spirit

Review by Heather Seggel

One of the singular joys of picture books is the way they can bring the abstract to literal life on the page. In A Fire Truck Named Red, young Rowan yearns for a top-of-the-line toy fire truck and is crushed when his grandfather gives him the cute but clunky one that had been Papa's childhood toy. As Papa restores the toy with a bit of new paint, he tells Rowan tales of the brave rescues he and Red made in their neighborhood, and slowly but surely wins Rowan over to the truck’s value.

Author Randall De Sève’s premise is commonplace in children’s stories, where stuffed animals need only to be loved well enough to become real. Artist Bob Staake merges these worlds brilliantly. The truck Rowan wants is flashy but indistinct, whereas Red may be small but looks ready to drive off the page. Papa’s stories show up as sepia-toned movies he’s showing to Rowan, then in one ingenious frame, Rowan is pulled directly into the world of the stories, his arm and one eye already in the scene while the rest of him trails a dotted line from where he was just standing.

Rowan and Papa are both boldly cartoonish in appearance; Red is photorealistic, even more real than they are. A Fire Truck Named Red highlights the value of less flashy items—they so often have the best stories attached. It’s a visual treat and tribute to the imagination.

One of the singular joys of picture books is the way they can bring the abstract to literal life on the page. In A Fire Truck Named Red, young Rowan yearns for a top-of-the-line toy fire truck and is crushed when his grandfather gives him the cute but clunky one that had been Papa's childhood toy. As Papa restores the toy with a bit of new paint, he tells Rowan tales of the brave rescues he and Red made in their neighborhood, and slowly but surely wins Rowan over to the truck’s value.

YA FictionYA

Stepping back into life after a family tragedy

Review by Heather Seggel

Six months ago, Quinn Roberts had big plans: Inspired by the Coens and the Wachowskis, he was writing screenplays that his older sister helped to direct. But after his sister dies in a car accident, Quinn and his mom are mired in grief; she eats her feelings while he sleeps through his. When Quinn’s friend Geoff drags him to a college party and he meets a hot, older guy, things begin to shift. The Great American Whatever finds humor in life’s darkest moments.

Teenage Quinn is a delight, observant to a fault in service to his art and often hilarious. People from Quinn’s past resurface and are not what he remembers them to be, and his relationship with his best friend contains a whopping secret that nearly destroys it—yet both things help him to work through his sadness. (The hot guy doesn’t hurt, either.) 

Author Tim Federle (Better Nate Than Ever) has a fantastic ear for the in-jokes that develop between friends. His YA debut is a genuinely great American novel, with a love of cinema worn on its sleeve.

 

This article was originally published in the April 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Six months ago, Quinn Roberts had big plans: Inspired by the Coens and the Wachowskis, he was writing screenplays that his older sister helped to direct. But after his sister dies in a car accident, Quinn and his mom are mired in grief; she eats her feelings while he sleeps through his. When Quinn’s friend Geoff drags him to a college party and he meets a hot, older guy, things begin to shift. The Great American Whatever finds humor in life’s darkest moments.
NonfictionTrue Crime

Terror in Texas

Review by Heather Seggel

In 1885, Austin, Texas, was terrorized by a series of murders so seemingly random and brutal they’re considered the work of the first American serial killer. People were reluctant to pay attention when the victims were servant girls or young women of color, ascribing the crimes to a gang of “bad blacks,” in part because Austin was prosperous and growing; murders in the news were bad publicity. In The Midnight Assassin, Texas Monthly editor Skip Hollandsworth tells the little-known story in riveting fashion, presenting this historical page-turner in spellbinding detail. 

The violence of the killer’s attacks is genuinely horrifying—bodies were slashed so brutally they couldn’t be properly collected for autopsy. When a similar series of crimes began in London, some speculated that Jack the Ripper had used Austin as a training ground, though there’s ample evidence to discount that theory. 

Hollandsworth balances the grim realities—once the citizens of Austin were sufficiently motivated to act, they asked for the right to make “citizen’s arrests,” which in this case would amount to nothing more than lynching on the spot (the request was thankfully denied)—with unexpected humor. The press sensationalized the story, but as the murders continued, one reporter, spelling his name “Frank Einstein” in the rush to print, went so far as to speculate that a real-life equivalent of Mary Shelley’s monster was roaming the streets in a murderous rage. Detectives with highly tenuous relations to the famed Pinkerton agency lived high on the city’s dollar while accomplishing next to nothing. 

The crimes of The Midnight Assassin were never solved, largely owing to the paucity of investigative tools available to law enforcement at the time. Hollandsworth hopes that new evidence may yet come to light and identify the killer, but even left unsolved, this is a case that will leave you freshly grateful for electric lights, fingerprinting and CSI.
 

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Read our interview with Skip Hollandsworth about The Midnight Assassin.
 

This article was originally published in the April 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

In 1885, Austin, Texas, was terrorized by a series of murders so seemingly random and brutal they’re considered the work of the first American serial killer. People were reluctant to pay attention when the victims were servant girls or young women of color, ascribing the crimes to a gang of “bad blacks,” in part because Austin was prosperous and growing; murders in the news were bad publicity. In The Midnight Assassin, Texas Monthly editor Skip Hollandsworth tells the little-known story in riveting fashion, presenting this historical page-turner in spellbinding detail.
NonfictionMemoir

The last dive in Brooklyn

Review by Heather Seggel

The strange, faded glamour of a neighborhood in decay often reaches its peak in the bars that define the territory. It can be a place where everybody knows your name or a spot where people know enough to deny ever having met you. Sunny's Bar was a little of both and a lot more besides. Open just one night a week in Brooklyn's Red Hook neighborhood before gentrification buffed its rough edges away, the was an unusual place that Tim Sultan stumbled into at random one night and in some ways never left. Sunny's Nights: Lost and Found at a Bar on the Edge of the World is a love letter to the place and time, but mostly to Sunny Balzano himself, the owner and a great American character.

Sultan describes Sunny as a barman philosopher and artist; he originally escaped from Red Hook and the family business to travel, spending time in India, rubbing shoulders with Andy Warhol's Factory denizens and finding a patroness of his own art before returning to take over the bar. Once a haven for longshoremen, it was also a safe place for mobsters to drop in and discuss private matters in the back room that doubled as an art studio. No kind of businessman, Sunny would make ice one tray at a time in the fridge and save it up for the Friday nights when he was open. Drinks were sold on a donation basis until inspectors intervened, taking much of the charm with them.

As Sunny's grew in popularity—the regulars were stymied when a "party bus" full of 20-somethings descended on the place one night—Sultan moved on to a new watering hole.

We can never really get back to the places that define an era in our lives. If they're not done in by an act of God, we grow so much in the intervening years that on returning they look like keychain ornaments. Sunny's Nights is a snapshot of a place and time that are no more, but also a loving portrait of the man who defined them.

The strange, faded glamour of a neighborhood in decay often reaches its peak in the bars that define the territory. It can be a place where everybody knows your name or a spot where people know enough to deny ever having met you. Sunny's Bar was a little of both and a lot more besides.
Children's & YAMiddle Grade

For all the teachers you ever hated (or hated you)

Review by Heather Seggel

The McKegway School for Clever and Gifted Children can be tough on a new student. Just ask Toby Wilcox. Newly transferred and trying to find his way, he’s distressed to find himself under the thumb of Mrs. Ravenbach each day. She keeps the children in line with strict German efficiency and little regard for anything but “the order and the discipline.” Kids have a choice: Do it Mrs. Ravenbach’s Way, or woe betide thee.

Author William M. Akers (Your Screenplay Sucks! 100 Ways to Make It Great) tells much of the story from Mrs. Ravenbach’s point of view; we see her spy on Toby and bully him until he wets his pants, so her comeuppance when it finally arrives is welcome. Toby’s hand-drawn journal entries and personal notes show us his side of things and are sometimes poignant and sometimes funny. Mrs. Ravenbach frightens the children with a legend about an errant fourth grader, but in Toby's notes, this student turns into a leather jacket-sporting bad boy hero.

If the tone is a bit uneven and the villain something of a caricature, Mrs. Ravenbach’s Way will still appeal to any kid who has felt bullied by a teacher and may encourage them to speak up about it. The message to think and stand up for yourself is one kids need to hear. And if the order and the discipline occasionally suffer for it? Too darn bad.

The McKegway School for Clever and Gifted Children can be tough on a new student. Just ask Toby Wilcox. Newly transferred and trying to find his way, he’s distressed to find himself under the thumb of Mrs. Ravenbach each day. She keeps the children in line with strict German efficiency and little regard for anything but “the order and the discipline.” Kids have a choice: Do it Mrs. Ravenbach’s Way, or woe betide thee.

Children's & YAMiddle Grade

Dreaming in the New Mexico desert

Review by Heather Seggel

Twelve-year-old Carol would rather be enjoying summer vacation with her friends, not stuck on a dilapidated ranch in the parched New Mexico desert. Her family is preparing to sell the property and move her grandfather, Serge, into assisted living before his dementia advances further. But as Carol gets to know Serge, his stories open up a world that she’d never known before. 

Debut author Lindsay Eagar infuses this story with rich metaphors and real magic. Carol’s Mexican-American family tends to emphasize their American side, but life on the ranch with Serge shows Carol the value of deep roots—both figuratively and literally, as their land is in a century-long drought. Eagar’s language is poetic and lovely, and the story-within-a-story is a heartbreaker. The relationships between bees and water, and life versus living, would make for a terrific book club discussion. 

Hour of the Bees is as grand as the landscape it springs from, an ode to family and heritage but also to living fearlessly. Forget about the middle-grade designation; everyone who reads this will be touched, and quite possibly moved to re-secure their family ties. Dreamlike while also gritty and real, this is a gorgeous work of art.

 

This article was originally published in the March 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Twelve-year-old Carol would rather be enjoying summer vacation with her friends, not stuck on a dilapidated ranch in the parched New Mexico desert. Her family is preparing to sell the property and move her grandfather, Serge, into assisted living before his dementia advances further. But as Carol gets to know Serge, his stories open up a world that she’d never known before.
Nonfiction

The wonders of physics

Review by Heather Seggel

Is it truly possible to explain the most compelling theories in modern physics in less than 100 pages? In language even nonscientists can understand? Italian theoretical physicist Carlo Rovelli proves that such an explanation is indeed possible—and surprisingly beautiful—in Seven Brief Lessons on Physics. An international bestseller, it has outsold Fifty Shades of Grey in Italy, where Rovelli’s book was first published.

Rovelli perfectly conveys the mix of blind faith, crushing doubt and wonder that have guided our understanding of the world around us. The third lesson, “The Architecture of the Cosmos,” uses eight simple diagrams to graph our evolving understanding of ourselves and where exactly we are, from a lone stick man sandwiched between flat planes of Earth and sky to mere stardust that may well be a dream experienced by something in another universe.

In lessons on general relativity, quantum mechanics, elementary particles, gravity and black holes, Rovelli beautifully merges the study of the universe with our ever-shifting understanding of our place within it. “We are like an only child who in growing up realizes that the world does not revolve only around himself, as he thought when little,” Rovelli writes. “Mirrored by others, and by other things, we learn who we are.”

Seven Brief Lessons on Physics is a science book that reads like a poem, and resonates like one, too. It’s educational to be sure, but its biggest lesson seems to be that remaining curious is our greatest hope as individuals and a species.

 

This article was originally published in the March 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Is it truly possible to explain the most compelling theories in modern physics in less than 100 pages? In language even nonscientists can understand? Italian theoretical physicist Carlo Rovelli proves that such an explanation is indeed possible—and surprisingly beautiful—in Seven Brief Lessons on Physics. An international bestseller, it has outsold Fifty Shades of Grey in Italy, where Rovelli’s book was first published.
NonfictionSelf-Help

Get with the program, be more productive

Review by Heather Seggel

It’s been a few weeks since our New Year’s resolutions faded into obscurity, but most of us harbor a lingering hope that we can become more productive. In Smarter Faster Better, New York Times reporter Charles Duhigg breaks productivity into eight parts that improve performance in surprising ways. 

As in his bestseller The Power of Habit, Duhigg layers anecdotes, research and reporting, making potentially dry analysis compulsively readable. The tragic 2009 crash of Air France Flight 447 happened because the pilots had become so dependent on the highly sophisticated flight display that they overlooked a fatal human error in their midst. By contrast, a similar plane was landed safely by a pilot who tuned out all the alarms and stripped his focus down to the parts of the plane that still worked and maximized his use of them. 

Chapters on teamwork, motivation, management and more illustrate their points through stories from the first season of “Saturday Night Live,” a Marine Corps training exercise, competitive poker and the Disney musical Frozen. An appendix helpfully shows readers how to translate these concepts into daily use. The “stick man” diagrams from The Power of Habit are back, clarifying points with often humorous visuals (check out the two tiny engineers toasting one another with cans of Mountain Dew). 

The Power of Habit showed readers how behavior is guided by cues and rewards; once you see the system, making small hacks comes naturally. Smarter Faster Better looks even deeper, with tips that can help fine-tune behavior, improve relationships at work and lead to better outcomes in a variety of settings, while somehow also being an edge-of-your-seat exciting read. Duhigg has done it again.

 

This article was originally published in the March 2016 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

It’s been a few weeks since our New Year’s resolutions faded into obscurity, but most of us harbor a lingering hope that we can become more productive. In Smarter Faster Better, New York Times reporter Charles Duhigg breaks productivity into eight parts that improve performance in surprising ways.

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