Richard Munson’s splendid biography of Benjamin Franklin provides an insightful view of the statesman’s lesser known accomplishments in science.
Richard Munson’s splendid biography of Benjamin Franklin provides an insightful view of the statesman’s lesser known accomplishments in science.
Lili Anolik’s Didion and Babitz is a freewheeling and engaging narrative about two iconic literary rivals and their world in 1970s Los Angeles.
Lili Anolik’s Didion and Babitz is a freewheeling and engaging narrative about two iconic literary rivals and their world in 1970s Los Angeles.
With its seamless integration of gardening principles with advanced design ideas, Garden Wonderland is the perfect gift for new gardeners—or anyone in need of a little inspiration.
With its seamless integration of gardening principles with advanced design ideas, Garden Wonderland is the perfect gift for new gardeners—or anyone in need of a little inspiration.
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While fossil evidence shows that the voracious Rocky Mountain locust was rampant in what is now North America as early as the 12th century, it didn’t reach its peak of collective destructiveness there until the 1870s. Miles-long clouds of the insects blanketed the territory between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains by then, destroying untold acres of crops and bringing tens of thousands of settlers to the brink of starvation. By the dawn of the 20th century, however, the dreaded marauder had become extinct. Jeffrey Lockwood, a professor of natural sciences and humanities at the University of Wyoming, describes the locust’s impact on American agriculture, science and social policy, and chronicles his own discovery of how the species died off so quickly in the wide-ranging book Locust: The Devastating Rise and Mysterious Disappearance of the Insect that Shaped the American Frontier.

At the height of their depredations, the locusts swept in like summer storms. “They came rattling and pattering on the houses, and against the windows, falling in the fields, on the prairies and in the waters everywhere and on everything,” wrote a Kansas observer, who told of an invasion of his land that began at one in the afternoon. “By about 4 o’clock,” he continued, “every tree and bush, buildings, fences, fields, roads, and everything, except animated beings, was completed covered.” Once on the ground, these creatures would reduce flourishing cornfields “into a desolate stretch of bare, spindling stalks and stubs.” The devastation was so widespread, Lockwood reports, that local communities could not provide sufficient relief. The state and national governments had to intervene, thus beginning a pattern of farm assistance that continues to this day. Then, as now, some politicians were reluctant to offer help, not for budgetary limitations only but because they thought charity would lead to moral corrosion and dependence. While the state governments argued the pros and cons of relief, they also called for official days of prayer, seeing in the disasters echoes of the biblical plagues. Some of the forward-looking states hired scientists to apply reason to the problem. In the meantime, entrepreneurs poured forth a tide of machines and potions, all designed to obliterate the invaders, but none of which proved very effective. Although he touches on all these side effects, Lockwood concentrates on profiling the major entomologists who took on the locusts and assessing their findings, theories and achievements.

After it became apparent that the Rocky Mountain locust was either extinct or monumentally dormant, scientists undertook to find the cause. Some thought it could be explained by the introduction of alfalfa crops (not a locust favorite). Others argued that it proceeded from changes in weather patterns or the decimation of the buffalo herds. But Lockwood, taking his cue from the fate of the monarch butterflies, whose regeneration zone in Mexico is rapidly being destroyed, contends that it was the settlers’ cultivation of the high fields in the Rocky Mountain river valleys, where the locusts retreated between invasions, that ultimately did in these ravenous creatures.

In spite of the complexity of his subject, Lockwood relates his story with simplicity and humor. Readers with an interest in science and history particularly that of the frontier will enjoy this well-told entomological mystery. Edward Morris reviews from Nashville.

While fossil evidence shows that the voracious Rocky Mountain locust was rampant in what is now North America as early as the 12th century, it didn't reach its peak of collective destructiveness there until the 1870s. Miles-long clouds of the insects blanketed the territory between…
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Writer Steve Almond has these three obsessions: sex, candy and heartbreak. His acclaimed short story collection, My Life in Heavy Metal, told tales of physical desire, love and longing. A new nonfiction book, Candyfreak chronicles Almond’s lifelong passion for candy (especially the discontinued Caravelle bar) as he undertakes a sugar- and nostalgia-fueled exploration of America’s confectionary industry. “Art arises from loss,” avers Almond dolefully, “this entire book arose from the loss of a single candy bar.” (Guess which one!) Candyfreak is witty, hip and deftly written, a gonzo hybrid of a book that is part memoir, part culinary journalism. Almond’s funny, soul-baring story takes him to our nation’s small, independent candy factories. Yes, he’s an “unbridled candyfreak,” drawn there by the promise of free samples. But he’s also out to uncover the voraciousness of American candy capitalism, and why it led to the demise of the Caravelle. Almond’s narrative ranges from sensual to Zen-like zany. There are melting accounts of silky dark chocolate, salty roasted peanuts and gorgeous, gooey marshmallow. There is a strange haiku inspired by witnessing Goo Goo Clusters receive an assembly line chocolate bath: “Brown rivers released/From cold silver machines sing/For a stunned wet tongue.” But the ultimate appeal of this wonderful, quirky book is its soft center of surprise: yearning and existential loneliness hide inside the chewy layers of fact and zingy, acerbic humor.

Writer Steve Almond has these three obsessions: sex, candy and heartbreak. His acclaimed short story collection, My Life in Heavy Metal, told tales of physical desire, love and longing. A new nonfiction book, Candyfreak chronicles Almond's lifelong passion for candy (especially the discontinued Caravelle bar)…
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What are the odds? Two major publishers release memoirs at the same time in the same year, both of which are authored by men of professional bearing who glory in Shakespeare and teach classes on the subject. The coincidences passing strange are worthy of one of the Bard’s own plays.

“The manuscript of an out-of-control writer is not a pretty thing to behold: sloppy, confused, slapdash, disjointed,” writes Herman Gollob, author of Me and Shakespeare. “Out of this chaos the editor must bring order structure, organization, coherence.” Now in his early 70s, Gollob is well-known in publishing circles, having served for years as an editor at Little, Brown, Atheneum and Simon &and Schuster. Originally from Texas, he made fortuitous early professional connections that led him into careers as a Hollywood story editor and literary agent. He went on to nurture the talents of writers such as James Clavell, Dan Jenkins, Donald Barthelme and Willie Morris. While his book is, at times, lofty in tone, it is anecdote-laden, rich with gossip and brimming with all things Shakespearean.

Gollob, who teaches adult education classes on the Bard at New Jersey’s Caldwell College Lifelong Learning Institute, takes his cue from pertinent Shakespearean quotations, describing his journeys to the Bodleian and Folger Shakespeare libraries, relating his exchanges with students and offering a fair amount of hardcore literary, critical and historical analysis of the Bard’s works and influences.

Along the way, he discusses such personal matters as his father’s death from prostate cancer, his mother’s lobotomy and his high regard for his wife, Barbara. He also takes an apparently long-overdue retaliatory swipe at the late actor Lee Strasberg by relating an incident in which Gollob the editor told potential author Strasberg that no one would ever want to read a book as pedantic as the one Strasberg was proposing. It would seem that Strasberg was not as encouraging of Gollob’s early attempts to be an actor as Gollob would have liked.

Bob Smith is a man of fewer pretensions than Gollob, and his new memoir Hamlet’s Dresser shows it.”I’ve seen my ordinary name as a promise to be unseen, unheard, unnoticed,” writes Smith. “And for most of my life I’ve honored the contract.” The title of the memoir derives from Smith’s career as wardrobe man at the Stratford Shakespeare Festival in Connecticut, where he rubbed elbows with well-known personalities, including John Houseman, Jessica Tandy and Katharine Hepburn. Nowadays, Smith takes pride in running informal seminars on Shakespeare at senior centers in New York City. With distant parents and a severely retarded sister, Smith turned to the Bard at an early age and found solace in his poetry and his universal, all-encompassing understanding of human frailty. “I think that the more confused you are inside,” Smith says, “the more you need to trust a thing outside of yourself. I was desperate to lean against a thing bigger than me, and it was clear that William Shakespeare understood what it’s like to ache and not know why.” Smith’s young life was tinged with sadness due to his mother’s depression and alcoholism, his father’s aloofness and the love and pain associated with his sister Carolyn, who was eventually institutionalized. His further exposure to Shakespeare through his theatrical work has made Smith a nonacademic expert on the Bard, with an amazing power to recall lengthy passages of dialogue. His book, too, is laced with illuminating quotes from the Bard’s plays, which shed additional connecting light on the painful details of Smith’s upbringing and ongoing personal hardships, including the tragic suicide of an actor-friend. If the growing soul is best watered by tears of adversity, then Smith is a living example of that axiom. Fortunately, he has turned sorrow into a creative outlet for informing and inspiring his weekly audience of aging men and women, who too are learning of Shakespeare’s curative and comforting powers. Martin Brady writes from Nashville.

What are the odds? Two major publishers release memoirs at the same time in the same year, both of which are authored by men of professional bearing who glory in Shakespeare and teach classes on the subject. The coincidences passing strange are worthy of one…
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Eustace Conway is handsome, brilliant, charismatic. He owns his own valley in North Carolina. He’s a trendsetter and a newsmaker. He even has a conscience. So why can’t he keep a girlfriend? You’ll find out in Elizabeth Gilbert’s The Last American Man, an intriguing profile of the 21st century’s answer to Davy Crockett. Frontiers aren’t for everyone, though they linger in America’s collective imagination. Boys these days are more likely to test their manhood in a mall than in the woods. Into this rather sad picture of diminished horizons enters Eustace Conway. Conway leaves his comfortable suburban home at 17 and disappears into the woods, only to reappear as a sort of eco-Messiah, with a message that yes, there is a better way to live than on the grid prescribed by modern-day America.

Soon Conway is hiking the Appalachian Trail, crossing the United States on horseback and buying up unspoiled land in North Carolina to establish his utopian Turtle Island, a sanctuary where visitors and apprentices can study Conway’s alternative lifestyle one that’s closely based on Native American traditions of hunting, gathering and the resourceful use of natural materials.

The word "biography" has such a dusty sound to it that I hesitate to apply it to this book. Gilbert does, indeed, chronicle Conway’s life from beginning to end, but her account is more than fact; it’s great entertainment. Gilbert is a gifted storyteller. She also has the perfect subject: a 21st century pioneer with the wanderlust of Deerslayer and the shrewdness of Daniel Boone. Through Conway, Gilbert examines the difficulty of coming into an American manhood in a world without frontiers. While she’s at it, she chronicles the history of utopias in America both those that succeeded and those that failed. Gilbert doesn’t mince Conway’s shortcomings a difficult relationship with his father; an inflexibility that makes lasting relationships with women impossible; his phenomenal workaholism; his Messianic complex. Even Conway’s flaws are part of the picture Gilbert’s portrait of an American man of destiny, perhaps the last.

Lynn Hamilton writes from Tybee Island, Georgia.

 

Eustace Conway is handsome, brilliant, charismatic. He owns his own valley in North Carolina. He's a trendsetter and a newsmaker. He even has a conscience. So why can't he keep a girlfriend? You'll find out in Elizabeth Gilbert's The Last American Man, an intriguing profile…

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Call this book life-affirming, a saga of human survival, a tale of loss and victory, proof of the resilience of the human spirit it’s any of those and all of them. But Red Sky in Mourning is also a walloping good yarn that grabs your heart and tweaks your spirit and makes you think twice about sailing during hurricane season.

That’s what Tami Oldham and her fiancŽ Richard Sharp did in September of 1983, when they agreed to deliver the yacht Hazana from the South Pacific to its owners in San Diego, California. It seemed like a good idea at the time, especially for two people who were crazy about sailing, very much in love and planning a future together.

The couple’s good business decision, however, turned into a tragic catastrophe. Ambushed by Hurricane Raymond, a late-season storm, the Hazana “pitchpoled” and “flipped end over end,” losing its masts. The motor was also disabled. At Richard’s insistence, Tami reluctantly went below, trusting the tethers of their safety harnesses to keep them both secure. Suddenly, she heard Richard scream. She returned to consciousness 27 hours later in the wreckage of the ship, with her husband-to-be forever gone.

What happened in the next 41 days was alternately appalling and heartening. Tami sailed the wreck to land with the help of the sextant, which luckily survived the storm. Recounting memories of her earlier life and romance with Richard, Tami’s story ranges from metaphysical contemplation as she comes to terms with his death and copes with such mundane details as having her long hair matted in salt water for 41 days.

Amazingly, Tami still loves to sail and “is a 100-ton licensed captain with more than 50,000 offshore miles.” It’s apparent that she has never forgotten Richard, but 19 years later he is no ghost threatening her later marriage and children. The best lesson in the book takes place soon after the disaster, as she drags herself away from thoughts of suicide and despair: “If I was going to live, let’s get to living.” Maude McDaniel writes from Cumberland, Maryland.

Call this book life-affirming, a saga of human survival, a tale of loss and victory, proof of the resilience of the human spirit it's any of those and all of them. But Red Sky in Mourning is also a walloping good yarn that grabs your…
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While it’s true that a good man is hard to find, most of us need look no further than father for a superior example of the male species. June is the time to show Pop just how much you appreciate those qualities that make him a miracle of manhood his willing ear, his words of wisdom, his bottomless bank account. So reward Dad this month with one of the following titles, all great gifts for Father’s Day.

When it comes to writing about history, it’s difficult to imagine a harder-hitting pair of reporters than Mark Bowden and Stephen Ambrose, the dynamic duo behind Our Finest Day: D-Day: June 6, 1944. Authoritative yet accessible, this dramatic, interactive account of the largest military operation ever launched contains reproductions of artifacts from the National D-Day Museum. Filled with classic quotes and photographs, the book is a great way to experience history first-hand. An official "Orders of the Day" letter issued by Ike to the Allied soldiers, a guidebook of France and a map of that country’s coastline with areas targeted for invasion are a few of the pieces readers can remove and peruse. Drawing on first-person accounts from the soldiers and officers who served at Normandy, including journalist A.J. Liebling, the text, written by Pulitzer Prize nominee Bowden, offers excerpts of authentic letters and diary entries. From preparation to actual invasion, Our Finest Day examines techniques and tactics, battle plans and strategies choices made by the superpowers that ultimately altered the course of history. Ambrose contributes a fine, if brief, introduction to this cleverly packaged war-time primer the perfect gift for a patriotic father.

The intrepid, enigmatic Charles Lindbergh would have been 100 this year. The man who gave wings literally to the anything-goes, can-do optimism that characterized America in the early 20th century made himself into a myth by completing the first nonstop solo flight across the Atlantic Ocean. Today, although astronauts outrank aviators in terms of mystique, the country’s fascination with Lindbergh continues. Dominick Pisano and F. Robert van der Linden, both curators at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Air and Space Museum, take an in-depth look at an American legend in Charles Lindbergh and the Spirit of St. Louis. Illustrated with hundreds of black and white pictures, as well as new color photographs of the Spirit of St. Louis itself (the object of many a souvenir scavenger), this special volume brings to life the early days of aviation, while telling the story of an ambivalent hero. Lindbergh began his flying career as a risk-it-all barnstormer and airmail pilot before setting his sights on wider horizons. Despite his history-making accomplishments, his life was rife with controversy. The kidnapping and death of his son, along with his controversial social and political views, made him a reluctant target for the media. Pisano and van der Linen thoroughly explore the conflicts that eventually drove the flyer and his family to Britain. With fascinating specifics on aviation equipment, visuals of vintage flying gear and an introduction by Lindbergh’s daughter Reeve, this volume soars.

Here’s a little something that’s sure to make Dad smile: packed with fun activities and rugged bits of wisdom, 101 Secrets a Good Dad Knows by Walter and Sue Ellin Browder is a clever little paperback that collects all the lessons fathers, by tradition, teach their kids. With instructions on everything from flying a kite to skipping a stone, 101 Secrets celebrates timeless diversions that have been passed on from generation to generation. Lessons in making a paper boat, whistling with a blade of grass and building a campfire make this a one-of-kind book. Many of the skills (carving whistles, tying flies) are illustrated, and each is prefaced by a timeless maxim, like the following: "The difference between a useless stick and a useful stick is in the person who picks it up." What could be wiser? Full of tried-and-true know-how that will never go out of style, this good-humored anthology is the perfect way to bring families together on Father’s Day.

While it's true that a good man is hard to find, most of us need look no further than father for a superior example of the male species. June is the time to show Pop just how much you appreciate those qualities that make him…

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