Social media personality Prosper brings his online video series to the page in this earnest if sappy survey of contemporary life. The project was first conceived in 2020, when, working as an ICU nurse during the Covid-19 pandemic, Prosper, a normally gregarious man, coped with the trauma by disengaging from his patients. To regain a sense of connection, he began interviewing strangers on the street and posting the interviews online. The stories in this volume are not reproductions of online content, however, but new. Each section is organized around a question (e.g., “Who was your greatest love, and why did you fall in love with them?”) and includes answers from the strangers, accompanied by photographs of them talking. In book form, however, the project lacks a certain dynamism (screen grabs of interviewees mid-sentence feel less dignified than portraits would be), and the stories themselves give little sign that much work was done to pick the wheat from the chaff. (One respondent says of their mantra “just breathe”: “It’s very simple and to the point—not everything needs to be a Robert Frost poem”). To the extent that Prosper contextualizes the stories, he mostly does so in clichés (“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”; “We’re more alike than different”). The result is sometimes moving but overall too squishy and inconsistent. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink

Cultural critic McLaughlin (Sinkhole) ruminates on cancel culture’s effect on art criticism in this concise and captivating treatise. Squaring off against what she dubs “liberal realism”—i.e., the classification of art as ethically acceptable based on whether it promotes liberal moral standards—she tracks how recent attempts to give art “a dubious moral glow-up” have led to a “surreal” alternate reality of art criticism. For instance, she notes, the “sadistic” artist Chaïm Soutine, whose works exude “violence and objectification,” was recently described in Frieze magazine as “bringing ‘dignity’ to those at the bottom of the social order.” Likewise, McLaughlin highlights how this moralizing lens has a quelling effect on contemporary artworks; she points to the widely reported “offense” caused by the 2022 movie Tár as an example. McLaughlin is lucid and sharp, and readers will find themselves impressed even when they disagree. (In her rundown of the heated public response to Dana Schutz’s 2017 painting of Emmett Till in his casket, McLauglin gives only the barest credence to the accusation that the piece is part of a lineage of white artists appropriating Black suffering. While she critiques the episode with deftness, it might be a bridge too far for some—after all, surely some art might actually be in poor taste.) The result is a enjoyably provocative challenge to the status quo. (May)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink

In this searching account, memoirist Jones (Bearwallow) delves into the salacious diaries of his 19th-century ancestor, a white Southern farmer named William Thomas Prestwood, and attempts to piece together Prestwood’s life while comparing it with his own. The diaries are written in a cipher that Prestwood invented; the codebreaker who cracked it in the 1970s noted that these “pathetic little books” told the colorful story of an American “Everyman”—sex-obsessed, gold-obsessed, and occasionally trying to outrun the local sheriff. While Prestwood’s diary-keeping is laconic and full of gaps, it picks up the pace during his many affairs, and Jones keeps things fresh by linking Prestwood’s life to larger themes in history—including by attempting to track down the descendants of children Prestwood fathered with an enslaved woman. But Jones’s attempt to fill in the blanks with his own questioning—as he seeks to understand what this distant ancestor says about Jones himself—becomes wearisome, as does his frequent admissions that he wishes his ancestor were a better person. Best are the passages about Jones’s boyhood rambling around his grandparents’ property, as well as the tantalizing glimpses readers get of a “confounding, maddening nineteenth-century man.” It’s a unique look at private thoughts from a bygone era. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink

Button (Dear Death) mines her career as a death doula for this compassionate meditation on what makes a meaningful life. Death, she writes, strips away “superficial and unimportant entrapments... making space for what matters most”—generally, relationships, living with a sense of purpose, and inner peace. Sharing stories of how clients prepared for death, she writes that a man named Floyd organized photo collections to feel connected to his deceased wife and how a woman named Carrie reconnected with her estranged kids in an effort to die with a “clean slate.” Even surprising requests reveal deep psychological needs, Button explains, noting that Amanda—after her friends cleaned her house—realized she wanted to die with a messy, lived-in home that reflected the full family life she’d cultivated. While Button’s commonsense advice for living intentionally might not be new, she excels at pithily summarizing her wisdom and stitching poignant observations into the client stories (Floyd, she writes, “needed to tell me that he has never stopped reaching over to the other side of the bed to touch his wife each morning, even though he knows she will not be there”). Readers will be moved. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink

Smith-Ruiu (The Internet Is Not What You Think It Is), a philosophy professor at the Université Paris Cité, provides a winding, ambitious rumination on what the use of psychedelics might reveal “about the relationship between mind and the world.” Framing himself as “neither an advocate nor an activist” on behalf of the drugs, he draws from personal experience (partly as a rebuke to the “marginal” status of first-person perspectives in modern science) and philosophy to explore how psychedelics skew or clarify one’s view of reality and what that might mean about reality itself. Some insights are profound, as when he delves into the factors impacting consciousness, noting that “there simply is no chemical-free apprehension of the world” (one’s unique set of hormones and neurotransmitters significantly alter experiences of reality), or explores the simultaneous “ecstasy” and “terrifying dissolution of the self” that psychedelic trips can bring. While lengthier discussions of such topics as simulationism—the notion that the physical world is a model of virtual reality dictated by machines—can meander, they’re made up for by the author’s humility, curiosity, and embrace of complexityc. Open-minded readers will find much to chew on. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink

Harvard Business School professor Gulati (Deep Purpose) shines in this fresh examination of courage that combines suspenseful storytelling with relevant research. He argues that boldness is neither innate nor rare but a discipline that can be developed like a muscle. To help people become more courageous in their careers and pesonal lives, he created a formula called “the 9 C’s,” which includes such strategies as commitment, connection, and charisma. The book’s most memorable moments are stories about everyday people hurled into life-or-death situations. For example, in 2023, 26-year-old Brandon Tsay disarmed a gunman who opened fire at a Los Angeles dance hall where he worked. In an interview, Tsay revealed that he had never viewed himself as brave or heroic, but the venue had been founded by his grandmother, and he knew many of the patrons and fellow employees. This collective identity gave him, in Gulati’s words, “a powerful reason to fight back.” Gulati also explores more nuanced and relatable examples, like how he overcame being “gripped by fear” at the prospect of public speaking by focusing not on the audience and their possible reactions but on his purpose in addressing them. As inspirational as it is practical, this is a much-needed reframing of what it means to be brave. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink

In this wide-ranging exploration of the life and reputation of Jane Austen (1775–1817), Looser, an Arizona State University English professor and author of The Making of Jane Austen, makes the case for shedding “the old, tired stereotypes of safety and simplicity” associated with the writer and acknowledging her “wild side.” Looser traces themes of boldness, resistance to control, and unconventionality in Austen’s writing, family circle, and legacy. The first section focuses on moments in Austen’s fiction when female characters are positively described as “wild,” like the clever, strong-willed Elizabeth Bennet of Pride and Prejudice. In the second section, Looser explores Austen’s family life to show the writer was not as sheltered as commonly thought. For example, she points to relatives’ ties to the abolition movement and tells the story of a criminally charged aunt who may have been a kleptomaniac. The third section explores wildness superimposed on Austen’s legacy, from the creation of Austen-themed erotica (Spank Me, Mr. Darcy) to attempts to reconstruct what Austen looked like, as no verified portrait of her exists. There is a great deal of intriguing material on offer, but Looser’s definition of wild is so broad her premise lacks a clear focus. Still, dedicated Austen fans will relish these fresh insights. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink

Presley (Elvis and Me) chronicles her life from the end of her marriage to Elvis to the present day in this poignant memoir. Following the birth of their daughter, Lisa Marie, the Presleys’ already-shaky relationship faltered—though their bond improved after theydivorced in 1973. Presley writes that she was devastated by Elvis’s death in 1977, and afraid of the pressure of raising the King of Rock and Roll’s daughter alone. She thrived, however, not only in sprucing up Graceland but also in charity, animal advocacy, and business ventures, from co-owning a clothing company whose designs were favored by stars like Cher and Liza Minnelli to acting in Dallas, The Naked Gun, and other projects. Presley’s account isn’t all sunny, however. She writes candidly of the anxiety brought by her attempts at reinvention (her frightened stint in an acting class is particularly memorable), details her children’s struggles with addiction, and ends the account shortly after Lisa Marie’s untimely death from cardiac arrest. Through it all, Presley remains an endearing, conversational storyteller whose focus on the positive (“People my age often have bucket lists. I don’t, because I have already experienced everything I’ve dreamed of”) rings true. It’s a heartfelt record of stepping into one’s own. Agent: Alan Nevins, Renaissance Literary. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink

New York Times culture reporter Piepenburg debuts with a nostalgic cross-country tour of the eateries that “nourished, changed, and continue to inspire” LGBTQ+ communities in the United States. Among the venues spotlighted are Annie’s Paramount Steakhouse in Washington, D.C., which served as a haven for closeted gay men in the 1950s and ’60s; Pfaff’s Saloon in Manhattan, which opened in 1856 and was frequented by Walt Whitman (sometimes with his lover Fred Vaughan in tow); and mid-20th-century New York City’s Automats, which served food via vending machine and drew in gay patrons with their cafeteria-style seating and promise of relative anonymity (though diners could signal “their same-sex attraction to other customers” by wearing purple or lavender). The author’s joyously randy personal anecdotes about coming of age in the gay restaurant scene, combined with his discussions of such topics as drag culture and the AIDS epidemic, enliven this intimate ode to the intersections of queer and culinary culture. It’s a sweet and sincere celebration of what it means to be welcomed in body and spirit. (June)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink

Pulitzer-winning historian Foner (The Second Founding) collects previously published book reviews and opinion pieces in this probing and incisive volume. The essays span the past 25 years, “a period of remarkable creativity among American historians” as the discipline reckoned with its shortcomings and began telling the stories of “groups whose historical experience” had “been ignored.” At the same time, Foner writes, “the pieces reproduced here also remind us of the current crisis of American democracy.” For example, he points to the “violent uprisings” in the Reconstruction-era South as a precursor to the January 6 insurrection, and to his own father’s 1960s sacking from his position at CUNY over his pro-civil-rights sympathies as parallel to present-day attempts to muzzle academics. Throughout, Foner offers correctives to received historical wisdom; for instance, in a piece on conservative opposition to big government, he notes that it was conservatives who created the Fugitive Slave Act, one of the “most robust” ever “expansion[s] of federal authority... over individual Americans.” In another chilling parallel with the present, Foner describes how that measure “created a new category of federal officeholder, U.S. commissioners,” who could “issue certificates of removal, documents that could not be challenged in any court.” Then as now, Foner astutely observes, “the danger to American democracy ultimately lies within.” Written with clarity and purpose, these meditations on life and history galvanize. (Sept.)

Reviewed on 07/18/2025 | Details & Permalink