Fourteen-year-old Till was murdered in a nondescript barn in the Mississippi Delta. But few know the barn still stands today, or fully understand its history. Thompson believes we should.
Fourteen-year-old Till was murdered in a nondescript barn in the Mississippi Delta. But few know the barn still stands today, or fully understand its history. Thompson believes we should.
With candor and humor, Connie Chung shares the highs and lows of her trailblazing career as a journalist in her invigorating memoir, Connie.
With candor and humor, Connie Chung shares the highs and lows of her trailblazing career as a journalist in her invigorating memoir, Connie.
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There was not a clearly designated successor when Elizabeth I died in March 1603. The traditional approach meant that James VI of Scotland, the Protestant son of Mary, Queen of Scots, would become the English monarch. But, as Leandra de Lisle demonstrates in her masterfully researched After Elizabeth: The Rise of King James of Scotland and the Struggle for the Throne of England, James was far from being the straightforward choice. He was personally excluded from consideration, in the eyes of many, by a law that barred from the throne anyone born outside the allegiance of the realm of England. However, he was helped by the fact that other claimants had similar problems.

De Lisle shows how courtiers began considering who would succeed Elizabeth from the beginning of her reign in 1558 and describes the various contenders and their supporters in some detail. An Oxford-trained historian, she writes with admirable clarity. James and Elizabeth come to life before us and the intricate world of those who exercise the levers of power behind the throne is vividly recreated as they maneuver for position and prestige. A highlight of the book is the narrative of James I’s journey from Edinburgh to London, from April 5 to May 7, 1603. This trip gave the English their first opportunity to see and form impressions of their soon-to-be king. Although one of the most intellectually brilliant men ever to occupy the British throne, James’ decisions brought disappointment to many. He did not introduce toleration of religion for Catholics as he’d promised, and though he made significant reforms to the Church of England and brought about a new catechism and translation of the Bible, he did much less than many Puritans had hoped for. De Lisle says that James’ accession owed almost as much to luck as to political talent. If Elizabeth had died two years earlier, it is likely that ambitious and powerful figures might have taken the crown from him or accepted him only with conditions. If she had died later, Spain, France and the Vatican would have chosen an English candidate on whom they could all agree. As it happened, the timing of Elizabeth’s death caught James’ opponents by surprise. Roger Bishop is a Nashville bookseller and a frequent contributor to BookPage.

There was not a clearly designated successor when Elizabeth I died in March 1603. The traditional approach meant that James VI of Scotland, the Protestant son of Mary, Queen of Scots, would become the English monarch. But, as Leandra de Lisle demonstrates in her masterfully researched After Elizabeth: The Rise of King James of Scotland […]
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It may be the most recognized quote in the world not found in the Bible: "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." If you heard it broadcast live, accompanied by a fuzzy black-and-white TV image of a figure in a bulky white space suit stepping onto the rocky lunar plain, you remember the moment as freshly as this morning's coffee. First Man: The Life of Neil A. Armstrong is the story of how Armstrong got to that first step onto the Moon's surface, and what has happened since. This is the first authorized biography of a hero who has been understandably protective of his privacy. As such, former NASA historian James R. Hansen was given access to personal letters, records, journals and private interviews previously unavailable to would-be biographers. The result is a work that is thoroughly researched, dispelling many current myths about Armstrong and the space program perpetuated by journalists, film, television and (notoriously) the Internet.

First Man is immense, and incredibly detailed. Unfortunately, some of this detail slows down the early chapters, but once Armstrong begins his days as a test pilot and eventual astronaut, the narrative picks up, both in interest and speed. During these later chapters, Hansen's attention to detail serves the story well, relaying the difficulty and danger inherent in the Apollo program. Along with this comes an understanding of Neil Armstrong himself. Hansen does not retreat from exposing Armstrong's difficulty in building strong personal relationships and his muted emotional personality. Little if anything could shake Armstrong or if it did, he hid it from even himself. In space, this aided him beyond measure; in life, it brought him pain.

Armstrong's life after the landing is as fascinating as the event itself. He fervently argued the importance of exploration and discovery, particularly in their ability to make mankind look beyond the everyday and see the possibilities of human ingenuity. Yet after the landing, he watched the public lose interest in exploring, valuing him for his unique celebrity just as they devalued the very work that made him one.
 

It may be the most recognized quote in the world not found in the Bible: "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." If you heard it broadcast live, accompanied by a fuzzy black-and-white TV image of a figure in a bulky white space suit stepping onto the rocky lunar plain, you […]
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You don’t have to remember the ’50s to get lost in Great Pretenders: My Strange Love Affair with ’50s Pop Music. After all, author Karen Schoemer only barely does. Yet even as she wrote about modern, angst-heavy rock as a Newsweek staffer, shades of Fabian, Tommy Sands, Georgia Gibbs and, above all, Connie Francis, hovered alongside specters of her parents at the edge of her imagination, demanding the chance to reverse history’s merciless judgment.

And so Schoemer’s search is about more than music. As her breathless, ironic and engaging prose suggests, it’s about family no, actually, it’s about love. For 30 years her parents had lived a few miles apart yet barely acknowledged each other’s existence. Somehow this becomes just as important as her portraits of the stars that set the pre-boom tune. You sense this in the quick intimacy she establishes with these singers singers she had been raised to dismiss as irrelevant, empty of talent or just plain icky.

Schoemer hurls herself into their lives, like a whirlwind sucking up a sea of research factoids yet drowning in uncertainties. Invariably she sheds her cynicism and becomes a trusting believer, much like her parents must have been before their premonitions of divorce. She sits in the backseat as Patti Page and her husband drive through their tiny town, wondering if maybe she could stay and join their family. She perches on Pat Boone’s lap, ready to devote herself to him forever despite his purity. She stands on her chair and screams along with the happy geriatrics at a Frankie Laine concert.

In other words, Schoemer doesn’t write about this music and the people who made it: she lives it, and gets it tangled up in her daydreams and anger and innocence. And, almost without anyone noticing, her odyssey leads her to where her memory began not just into the home of Connie Francis but, wildly and improbably, into her bed, where a moment of terrifying revelation reminds us that even pop music at its worst packs enough magic to set us all free. Robert L. Doerschuk is a former editor of Musician magazine.

You don’t have to remember the ’50s to get lost in Great Pretenders: My Strange Love Affair with ’50s Pop Music. After all, author Karen Schoemer only barely does. Yet even as she wrote about modern, angst-heavy rock as a Newsweek staffer, shades of Fabian, Tommy Sands, Georgia Gibbs and, above all, Connie Francis, hovered […]

The book that inspired the hit film!

Talk about bucking the trends. Cookbooks, TV shows and glossy magazines are overflowing with simple recipes for busy professionals lacking the time and desire to serve up elaborate meals after a tough workday. And then there's Julie Powell.

In Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen, this secretary/ex-actress describes the impact "butter weight" and all of her attempt to spice up her lackluster life by tackling the entirety of Julia Child's legendary Mastering the Art of French Cooking within the space of a year. After work and on weekends, Powell cooks through the classic tome, from the simple Potage Parmentier which inspired the project to Pate de Canard en Croute, a boned stuffed duck baked in pastry that's just the kind of recipe most chefs wouldn't dream of asking their readers to attempt today.

As Julie cooked, she blogged about her efforts, and the Julie/Julia Project steadily gained notoriety. Powell feeds her "bleaders" (blog readers) regular updates and the project becomes a public, as well as a personal mission. Her engaging and informal voice makes her readers feel as if they're full participants, leaning against the fridge watching the latest experiment while chatting about the latest "Buffy" episode or looming pre-midlife crisis. You may be just slightly embarrassed by the state of the kitchen, the mid-recipe freak outs or the arguments with her dishwashing husband, but ultimately Powell's sheer determination and humor win out, and you want to see her succeed. Short, imagined letters between chapters from Paul Child to his wife-to-be seem out of place in this story about a very modern woman, a cookbook and her computer, but when the meal is over, you'll feel satisfied and ready for the next course. Bon appetit!

 

Megan Brenn-White is the author of Bake Me a Cake: Fun & Easy Treats for Kids (HarperCollins) and writes from a tiny apartment kitchen in Brooklyn, New York.

The book that inspired the hit film! Talk about bucking the trends. Cookbooks, TV shows and glossy magazines are overflowing with simple recipes for busy professionals lacking the time and desire to serve up elaborate meals after a tough workday. And then there's Julie Powell. In Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny […]
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Former Newsweek writer Laura Shapiro continues her exploration of America’s relationship with food in Something From the Oven: Reinventing Dinner in 1950s America. Part women’s studies, part cultural study, Shapiro’s entertaining and enlightening book charts a revolution in food creation and preparation. Ready-made food proponents were baffled when their “wave of the future” failed to catch on immediately. After all, didn’t women hate to cook? (Surveys from the 1950s show that, in fact, cooking was consistently among the top two favorite household chores.) This food was easy to make, and, often, cheaper than fresh alternatives. What manufacturers didn’t realize was that while prepared foods (which originated from soldiers’ rations during World War II) were definitely time-savers, quality and taste varied, and it was difficult to find a place for them within America’s strong notions about cooking for the family. Cooking was an integral part of the “perfect wife” package, and women who used pre-packaged foods even those as commonplace as instant coffee were perceived by their peers as lazy. Advertisers fought back. Prepared foods, they proclaimed, made gourmet taste accessible to the everyday cook. Soon, food writers began incorporating this message into their recipes. Shapiro comes to a different conclusion. Far from liberating cooks, pre-packaged foods were often another way of restricting them, changing cooking from an enterprise where the cook had the power to a practice devoid of creativity, a step-by-step, follow-the-rules procedure. Still, pre-packaged foods were seen as the way forward. It wasn’t until the publication of two seminal works Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique and Julia Child’s The French Chef that cooking would regain its equilibrium and offer choice once again. Shapiro’s comprehensive study of a watershed moment in America’s past evokes the paradoxes of post-war life, and makes the reader contemplate the history behind the question, “what’s for dinner?”

Former Newsweek writer Laura Shapiro continues her exploration of America’s relationship with food in Something From the Oven: Reinventing Dinner in 1950s America. Part women’s studies, part cultural study, Shapiro’s entertaining and enlightening book charts a revolution in food creation and preparation. Ready-made food proponents were baffled when their “wave of the future” failed to […]
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A sensational 1973 tennis match is the centerpiece of Selena Roberts’ book, A Necessary Spectacle: Billie Jean King, Bobby Riggs and the Tennis Match That Leveled the Game, a smart review of King’s career and the rise of women’s sports during the past 40 years.

Roberts, a New York Times columnist, shows that King and Riggs had much more in common than one might think. Both came out of Southern California, liked attention and weren’t part of the country club set. Riggs was a former Wimbledon champion who saw a chance for a second act in his sports life by challenging women. King, meanwhile, had been struggling to turn women’s pro tennis into a lucrative business. She accepted Riggs’ challenge after he beat another Wimbledon champion, Margaret Court, and The Battle of the Sexes was born. King took the match seriously, while Riggs concentrated on the hype, neglecting to sleep, train or practice. King thrashed Riggs.

While King’s tennis record (20 Grand Slam singles titles) is superb, she’ll be best remembered as the person most responsible for the growth in women’s sports, and as one of the three most significant cultural figures from sports in the 20th century (behind only Jackie Robinson and Muhammad Ali). Riggs, meanwhile, was remembered until his death in 1995, so both participants got what they wanted out of the match.

Title IX, the federal legislation mandating equal funding for women’s sports by universities, soon followed. Though the playing field isn’t completely level prize money isn’t even, and women’s team sports have trailed individual sports in popularity at the pro level it’s much better than it was in 1973. A Necessary Spectacle shows that the road to gender equality has taken some bizarre turns, but that the destination was worth the drive. Budd Bailey works in the sports department of the Buffalo Daily News.

A sensational 1973 tennis match is the centerpiece of Selena Roberts’ book, A Necessary Spectacle: Billie Jean King, Bobby Riggs and the Tennis Match That Leveled the Game, a smart review of King’s career and the rise of women’s sports during the past 40 years. Roberts, a New York Times columnist, shows that King and […]

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