Eric Weiner chose a travel itinerary based on how happy citizens of countries report themselves to be. He went to Iceland (happy), to Moldova (unhappy), and to several other countries. A self-proclaimed “grump”, he seems sincerely interested in the nature and causes of happiness and this curiosity makes the book not only a good travelogue but an interesting reflection on human nature.
Joseph J. Ellis
George Washington is an enigma, the essential founding father who seems to lack a personality. Joseph Ellis rectifies that in “His Excellency: George Washington”, revealing Washington’s character in this brief biography. Ellis portrays Washington as an ambitious man whose ambition was firmly under control and as a man more motivated, even in his support for revolution, by regard for his station and legacy than by intellectually arrived at conclusions. The book is short, so it lacks detail, but it succeeds in what it sets out to do.
David McCullough
David McCullough’s books are exceptionally enjoyable, and this one is no exception. It brings John Adams, his wife Abigail, and their sometime friend Thomas Jefferson to life. The portrait of Adams is fully drawn. His intellectual life, his family life, his self-image, and his struggles are all vividly presented. The only problem with the book is that it leaves the reader thinking that today’s politicians are ignorant pygmies by comparison.
Brad Zeller
For decades, starting in the early 50’s, Irwin Denison Norling photographed Bloomington, Minnesota, a booming bedroom suburb of Minneapolis now best known as the home of the Mall of America. By day a 9-to-5 Honeywell employee, at all other times he was a photographer who interrupted sleep and family dinners at the call of a police scanner, rushing out to take pictures of auto accidents, murders, and stray animal rescues. He also shot more mundanes events like parades, kiddie TV show host appearances, and supermarket openings. He was an unofficial police photographer, local newspaper stringer, and documentarian of the suburban explosion. It’s tempted to call him obsessed, but “dedicated” is both more kind and more accurate.
The Norling photos - while most were taken by father Irwin, his project was a family affair - aren’t striking for their style or artistic quality: the Norlings weren’t quite Weegees of the prairies. Nor will pictures of Bloomington fascinate anyone not from the area. They are an interesting look at a period of great change in the United States: the time of the great migration to the suburbs.
“Chronicles” isn’t complete enough to be called Bob Dylan’s autobiography. It’s more of non-chronological memoir, starting in the New York City folk scene of the early 60’s, jumping to Woodstock, NY, following Dylan’s most popular period, wandering down to New Orleans in the 80’s and the making of an album, and winding up back at the top of Highway 61 in the Minnesota of his childhood. That bare description makes it sound random, but, like his songs, it’s allusive. If he sometimes seems to be reaching, much of the writing is vivid and it all has a strong personal voice.
The book serves as a catalog of and homage to the people that influenced his art. Of course you expect to find mention of Woody Guthrie, but it’s surprising to read the a nod from wrestler Gorgeous George to the teenage Dylan playing in a Minnesota armory helped build his confidence as a performer. And I wouldn’t have expected to hear Dylan mention Frank Sinatra’s “Ebb Tide” as one of his favorite songs. He even says that “the next Dylan” will probably be a rapper. Dylan - young and old - is a cultural sponge, a mulligan stew of influences.
If you’re looking for revelations about Dylan’s personal life you won’t find it here. If you’re more interested in Dylan the artist, and, especially, the sources and processes of his art, you’ll want to read this book.
Paul S. Collins
The subtitle pretty much describes this book. Collins gives us a baker’s dozen of lively and fascinating essays on forgotten folk who might have - but didn’t - make it into the history books. History books, after all, tend to focus on people who succeeded. There’s the eponymous John Banvard, once probably the wealthiest painter in the world, creator of a half-mile long panorama of the Mississippi River, who died in obscurity. There’s William Ireland, who discovered Shakespeare’s “Vortigern and Rowena“, a play Shakespeare never wrote. Collins even tells us why some old houses have blue window panes.
“Banvard’s Folly” is a fun read.
(Collins’ blog is worth a look, too.)
You are currently browsing the archives for the Nonfiction category.
