Lacey

A secular humanist raised in an Orthodox Jewish household, Rebecca Goldstein creatively integrates philosophy into the lives of her characters while avoiding deadly, Ayn Randian didacticism. The most delightful aspect of the novel is the banter between characters, many of whom are ridiculously self-absorbed recruiters of a singular cause (themselves): brash Roz, author of Immortality Now!; Lucinda, who takes special pleasure in publicly “fanging” her colleagues; the resigned, inveterate twelve year graduate student, Gideon Raven; Azarya, mathematical genius and heir-apparent Rabbi to a reclusive Hasidic Jewish sect; and “The Extreme Distinguished Professor of Faith, Literature and Values,” Jonas Elijah Klapper. Only Cass Seltzer, the "atheist with a soul" is grounded in a view of the world beyond himself. Although Goldstein is unlikely to concede any philosophical or theoretical ground to theists, her novel deftly handles characters of both cloths with refreshing grace.

The sexy, chic, snag-a-man attitude which Cosmopolitan inaugurated is—like it or not—a cultural force to be reckoned with; Helen Gurley Brown, the woman at Cosmo’s helm for more than thirty years is a phenomenon of equal magnitude. In Bad Girls Go Everywhere, Jennifer Scanlon convincingly argues that Brown’s preternatural talent for connecting with her female readers, her keen business acumen, and her firm belief that a woman should be economically independent place her squarely (if complicatedly) in the feminist camp. Embracing Capitalistic conceptions of womanhood (she might as well have created the term “pink purchasing power”) while also standing for equal pay, the right to choose, and women’s sexual equality, Brown—and by extension thousands of “Cosmo Girls”— resemble today’s feminist women more than their Betty Friedan/Gloria Steinem predecessors. This Horatio Alger romp from childhood poverty to publishing maven implicitly asks, is it any wonder that Helen Gurley Brown's brand of feminism has stuck around for the Third Wave?

If you’re not an avid graphic novel reader, put aside everything you think you know them and pick this one up. Jason Lutes’ Berlin chronicles the changing lives of Berliners in a moment of political transition as the Weimar Republic ends and the National Socialists gain political ground in the German parliament. Lutes vividly recreates Berlin between the wars, a city swept up by its desire for renaissance after a devastating war and economic collapse, and the everyday lives of people who sense that change is on the wind but who lack the tragic vantage point of history. Lutes’ characters are complex and sympathetic and his knowledge of the German language and German culture infuse Berlin with an astounding realism that makes the city and its people come alive. For literary fiction readers who think they’d like to give graphic novels a go but don’t know where to start, Berlin is perfect place to begin.

What Was She Thinking succeeds in its telling because the only moral judgments passed are Barbara’s, the lonely, single woman of a certain age who reveals Sheba's fall from grace in tones so terse and stern, it reminded me of being pulled into Sister Joan Marie's office one sunny Sunday afternoon when I was twelve for a good talking to about the state of my soul. Barbara's version of events leaves a lot to question, including the she referenced in the title: Sheba, whose affair with a fifteen-year-old student ends her career and marriage or Barbara, whose jealousy of Sheba’s lover leads to a betrayal of the most unforgivable kind.

Ghost Light is a beautiful and haunting memoir of Washington in the 1950s and 1960s as much as a memoir of Broadway theatre of the era. Frank Rich writes from a young man’s point of view but offers adult hindsight on some of the more disturbing issues of his youth: His step-father, Joel, was abusive; DC was—and remains—segregated. Floating between DC and NYC, Rich creates a portrait of a youthful obsession that blossomed into a full-time career.

Where to begin? Maybe with the succulent Chickpea Cutlets (pg. 133)? Or the hearty Snobby Joes (pg. 98)? Or the divine Green Tea Ice Cream Sandwich (pg. 261)? For the vegan in your life, Veganomicon is the San Francisco of vegan cookbooks: not too overwhelming and with something that will leave a smile on everyone’s face, even the difficult to please. While some of the recipes are recommended for only the die-hard (make your own Seitan, anyone?), others are surprisingly simple and easy (the Skillet Corn Bread, for example). Each recipe is labeled with cooking time and handy icons indicate whether the recipe is low fat, gluten free, soy free, or supermarket friendly, making meal selection easy. And for those new to veganism, Veganomicon has a quick kitchen stocking instructions to get you started. Even the carnivorous can applaud that.

Intrigued but unconvinced, I picked Pema Chödrön's book from a friend's coffee table. I expected a self-helpy and precious book that I would drop after the first few pages. However, Chödrön's clear, intellectual prose brought me to a wholly unexpected place. Buddhism is often overly-cerebral and vague to me, with metaphorical stories I never quite grasp. Chödrön, a Buddhist nun, writes about Buddhism with a recognition that her audience most likely wasn't raised on the Eightfold Path. She breaks down the essential concepts behind the various sutras without losing track of the greater philosophical tenets. She encourages us to be "warriors" on our paths to becoming more awake and alive, to engage with our fears—of success, of failure, of intimacy—without running away, with loving-kindness to ourselves. As my own harshest critic, I found comfort in Chödrön's descriptions of loving kindness.

After the death of her husband, Yvonne flees the shadows of widowhood to visit Datça, the small Turkish town where she and her husband Peter celebrated their honeymoon twenty-eight years earlier. As Yvonne tries to recapture the love she felt for Peter shortly after their wedding, she must also navigate the darker memories of their life together. She also finds herself enmeshed in the strange marriage of a young Turkish woman who seeks her advice. When Yvonne befriends a quiet young boy selling seashells at a nearby beach, Vendela Vida's The Lovers takes a dark turn. Gesturing towards heartbreak and redemption, The Lovers is a perfect novel for the airport or the beach.