Historian Holland (Normandy ’44) opens this probing study of the political economy of WWII by analyzing the conflict’s financial roots: the harsh reparations imposed on Germany after WWI, the 1920s tariff wars that tanked the global economy, and the Great Depression, which turned Germany and Japan toward extremism. Drawing useful lessons from this turmoil, President Franklin Roosevelt put global economic development at the heart of his vision for the postwar world, and his ideas bore fruit in the Bretton Woods institutions—the International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade—that stabilized the postwar financial order, and in the 1948 Marshall Plan that funneled American aid to shattered European economies. These “radical” initiatives led to soaring postwar standards of living, Holland notes; however, his narrative focuses less on the postwar economy and more on the economic dimensions of the war itself, along the way making a potent case that Allied victory was due less to Soviet manpower than to American and British weapons production and bombing. Above all, the book is a somewhat over-the-top homage to FDR—“a man of destiny” with “deeply felt Christian values” who providentially maneuvered America onto the global stage. It makes for a sketchy treatment of the postwar order but an insightful take on how money and arms factories won the war. (May)

Reviewed on 03/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

In this sprawling family saga, historian Brooks (American Exodus) follows the lives of six siblings born to Chinese immigrant parents in Manhattan around the turn of the 20th century. The Moys siblings, Brooks writes, were ardently American, but pervasive anti-Chinese discrimination prompted several of them to move to China in the 1930s in search of greater opportunity—inadvertently landing them in the path of the coming Japanese invasion. The siblings include Kay, who married a wealthy restaurateur and raised a large family in New Jersey, only to lose everything during the Depression; Alice, who went to China with her husband, divorced him and remarried a well-heeled Shanghai businessman, only to lose it all when the Communists seized power in 1949; and, most dramatically, Herbert, a ne’er-do-well who finally found success and fame as an Axis propaganda mouthpiece at a Shanghai radio station, only to die by suicide when Japan lost the war. While the narrative drags in places where the Moys navigate more mundane happenstance, Brooks uses the siblings’ story to deftly explore, in often lively and novelistic prose, much larger themes: the fraught search for belonging in two starkly different cultures, the break with tradition that comes with the forging of modern lives focused on personal autonomy. The result is a rich and resonant exploration of the Chinese diaspora experience. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 03/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Journalist Fairyington examines beauty standards and reflects on her meandering road to self-acceptance in her bold debut. “I am an ugly woman. I was an ugly child, too,” she writes in the opening sentences, announcing her intention to unpack those labels for the benefit of her young daughter. Each chapter confronts a different set of aesthetic social norms, from hygiene to racial hierarchies, placing cultural histories of traditions like Chinese foot binding beside Fairyington’s memories of growing up queer. Throughout, she parallels her daughter’s unburdened moments of self-discovery with memories of her own, crediting the study of queer theory with shaping her eventual self-confidence (“I began to recognize myself as a critical component of the whole, essential to every other part, vital because of my unexpected twists and turns, my radical counterpoints to normality and beauty”). Though the academic sections are often fascinating, they can be hard to wade through; Fairyington shines most in intimate moments when she addresses her daughter directly, as when she expresses pride in her for “calling out a friend’s racism, sporting an outfit that made you look like a goth girl, going high fashion among classmates who dressed down.” This maternal manifesto makes a major impression. (May)

Reviewed on 03/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Durham, a career coach and influencer who posts as Emily the Recruiter, debuts with a straightforward guide to navigating the corporate job market. Drawing on her 10-plus years of experience as a recruiter, Durham aims to help the “not-yet-rich bitch” identify the right career path and thrive in it. She begins by advising readers to emotionally detach from companies, explaining that “dream jobs” do not exist and “your job will never love you back.” Instead of fantasizing about a job, she encourages readers to develop a deep understanding of what makes them feel validated, what gives them purpose, and the lifestyle they want. Pulling back the curtain on hiring, she explains that on average a recruiter spends six seconds looking at a résumé; job descriptions are often “wish lists,” not requirements; and some companies post fake listings to make it look like they are growing. After walking readers through perfecting their résumés, networking, and interviewing confidently, Durham details how to develop a strong personal brand (“confidence + being decent at your job + making others feel good”) and advocate for promotions (treat “your career development like it’s a regular part of your job”). Throughout, Durham intersperses her practical advice with comedy and personal anecdotes. It’s a down-to-earth resource for those seeking to level up. (May)

Reviewed on 03/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Pop culture historian Armstrong (Seinfeldia) delivers a heartfelt analysis of the creation and legacy of Parks and Recreation, the mockumentary-style sitcom about local government workers in the fictional town of Pawnee, Ind., that aired on NBC from 2009 to 2015. With its optimism, celebration of friendship, and belief that good people working together can make the world a better place, the show became “a symbol of a better America,” Armstrong argues. Drawing on interviews with the cast, writers, and real-life government officials, she chronicles how the series grew out of Obama-era optimism, with its main character Leslie Knope, played by Amy Poehler, attempting to make residents’ lives better one incremental step at a time. Armstrong highlights endearing on-screen relationships, like the friendship between Leslie and local nurse Ann Perkins and the love story between deadpan Parks Department intern April Ludgate and goofball musician Andy Dwyer, and discusses how the series invented phrases like “Treat yo’ self” and the female friendship–based holiday Galentine’s Day. Though the show struggled with ratings, it later became a streaming hit during the pandemic, offering an idealistic view of politics in a polarizing time, Armstrong explains. Deeply researched and pleasantly nostalgic, this is a treat for fans. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 03/06/2026 | Details & Permalink

Corey, founder of the social media account Kardashian Kolloquium, debuts with an avid, painstaking postmodern evaluation of the Kardashian-Jenner family. Delving into the reality TV matriarchy’s “two-decade-long construction of an American media empire,” the author unpacks the family’s ongoing spectacle, from memorable Keeping Up with the Kardashians episodes to breaking-the-internet cover shoots, along the way drawing on theorists like Walter Benjamin and Michel Foucault. She begins with a detailed exploration of the fluid figure of Kim Kardashian, who has seamlessly evolved, in multiple stages, from a socialite with a sex tape to a criminal justice reform advocate squaring off against her fellow reality TV star, President Donald Trump. Corey shows how Kim’s media domination is, in part, related to how she “aligns herself with countless cultural myths,” including those of Marilyn Monroe, the Kennedys, and the Spice Girls. In addition to this accomplished close read, Corey tacks on shorter, disjointed passages that whizz through a dizzying array of topics, from the family’s emulation of mid-20th-century sitcoms like The Brady Bunch to the “unusual word sequences” of catchphrases like Kris Jenner’s “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.” While the information overload can at times mimic the inescapability of the family itself, this avalanche of analysis is nevertheless a critical tour de force. Kardashian obsessives will be thrilled. (May)

Reviewed on 02/27/2026 | Details & Permalink

In this blistering follow-up to The Viral Underclass, journalist Thrasher lays siege to the politics of “representation,” wherein members of marginalized groups are given visible positions of authority in powerful institutions. Thrasher argues that such roles are Faustian bargains, as these figures are inevitably called upon to enforce their own oppression or the oppression of others. He labels such figures the “overseer class,” tracing the “deep roots” of representation back to slavery, when Black overseers had to be more cruel than their white counterparts to prove “they were worthy.” Today, Thrasher argues, structural incentives for the marginalized to become overseers have persisted. He spotlights “high profile overseers” like Alejandro Mayorkas, the first Latino and first immigrant to lead the Department of Homeland Security, under whose tenure more immigrants were deported than under the first Trump administration, and UN ambassador Linda Thomas-Greenfield, a Black woman appointee who repeatedly vetoed UN resolutions for a ceasefire in Gaza. Thrasher pinpoints this dynamic recurring throughout contemporary American institutions like media and higher education. As an alternative to the moral trap of becoming an overseer, he offers up Toni Morrison’s advice to her students: “When you get these jobs that you have been so brilliantly trained for, just remember that your real job is that if you are free, you need to free somebody else.” By turns maddening and inspiring, this shines a harsh light on a political dead end in order to illuminate real possibilities for change. (May)

Reviewed on 02/27/2026 | Details & Permalink

This immersive history from bestselling biographer Haygood (The Butler) explores the unique experiences of African Americans drawn into the Vietnam War as the civil rights battle raged on the home front. Among those profiled are Capt. Leroy Pitts, the first Black officer awarded the Medal of Honor after he “heaved himself” onto a grenade to protect his men, and Air Force officer Fred Cherry, who endured seven harrowing years of torture as a POW, as well as civilians like Philippa Schuyler, a biracial piano prodigy who died while rescuing orphans fathered by American soldiers in Vietnam, Time journalist Wallace Terry, who doggedly reported on Black soldiers, and Maude DeVictor, a “government worker-bee” who investigated veterans’ illnesses caused by Agent Orange. These disparate threads combine to produce a wide-ranging examination of the “many truths” of African American life during “America’s first fully integrated war,” from discrimination against Black officers and racist tension between Black and white troops to those tensions’ dissipation under shared duress, as in the case of the moving friendship that developed between Cherry and fellow POW Porter Halyburton, a white Southerner. In particular, the book vividly portrays the growing anger among African American troops about fighting “a white man’s war,” culminating in a “racial riot” at the Long Binh Jail near Saigon in August 1968 following Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination. The result is a highly original window into a turbulent historical moment. (Feb.)

Reviewed on 02/27/2026 | Details & Permalink

Online propaganda and computer-assisted electoral fraud threaten to overthrow democracies the world over, according to this scattershot debut study. Legal scholar Johnson recaps the story of Russian meddling in the 2016 U.S. election by means of divisive political commentary spread on social media. It was an example, he contends, of the “digital coups” that Russia regularly launches to undermine foreign elections, including a 2021 disinformation campaign in Burkina Faso that preceded an actual coup, and another in 2024 against a Moldovan ballot measure to join the E.U. (which passed anyway). After surveying Chinese attempts to sway Taiwanese elections, Iranian initiatives to foment pro-Gaza protests in the U.S., and online organizing by white supremacists, Johnson pivots to efforts to hack voting systems, with particular focus on theories that the Trump campaign stole the 2024 presidential election via hacking, an idea he takes seriously. (He also explores more plausible conjectures that Republican voter suppression measures resulted in Trump’s triumph.) Johnson proposes cogent safeguards against election hacking, like returning to paper ballots. More troubling is his case for fighting social-media subversion with laws regulating content, which can sound like a rationale for censorship. (Citizens who spread “divisive... messaging” online “have essentially committed treason,” he writes.) It’s a mixed set of recommendations for a serious modern dilemma. (May)

Reviewed on 02/27/2026 | Details & Permalink

These scattershot essays from psychoanalyst Phillips (Unforbidden Pleasures) explore the interplay between psychoanalysis—which studies how unconscious drives determine behaviors—and an optimistic pragmatism, outlined by American philosopher Richard Rorty, that argues people can mine their unconscious to achieve their goals. Pairing the two, Phillips contends, can yield a realistic but hopeful outlook. The essays explore such topics as the Freudian “death instinct,” or the wish that one had never been born, which pragmatism can turn in a useful direction, according to Phillips; and psychoanalytic resistance—the patient’s stubborn evasion of painful truths—which, the author writes, is not an obstacle to therapy but the key to its success, since such blocks reveal core desires to the psychoanalyst while allowing the patient to “test” and buy into the therapeutic process. Phillips connects Freudian themes to mind-expanding questions and broader intellectual discourse, but his analysis too often lapses into academese (“I want to wonder, among other things, how we became interested, and what it was that we thought we were interested in; and what psychoanalysis is, for us now, a way of being interested in?”). Devoted Freudians will appreciate this, but casual readers will likely find it too esoteric to make an impact.

Reviewed on 02/27/2026 | Details & Permalink