The author defines collapse as the current era of societal decline: “For thousands of years various entities have been at play—narratives groups and forces—herding humanity towards this moment of reckoning.” This decline he says encompasses the world economy mental health issues addiction climate change and geopolitics among other topics. Although the author suggests that “unavoidable catastrophe is assured” we still have productive ways to respond to the “polycrisis” he asserts. Part 1 situates readers in the current global troubles aiming to help them recognize that they have cause for deep concern for the planet’s well-being. Part 2 delves deeply into future crises including compelling scientific data on climate change. Most interestingly as the author points “Fossil fuel use hasn’t decreased despite an increase in renewable energy production.” The author uses the term hopium which he frames as blind faith in technology to solve the world’s problems. Part 3 focuses on potential responses to the polycrisis relying on wisdom from Native peoples and mutual aid. The most compelling aspect of this book is a chapter debunking common misconceptions about possible solutions: For example in response to the notion that merely spending more on food production is an easy fix Quiñonez counters “Food production is not merely about money. It is impacted by geopolitics supply chain disruptions droughts floods storms heat waves frosts wars pests energy availability and fertilizer shortages among other factors.” Still the book as a whole remains overly abstract despite its ambition. Parts 1 and 3 lack concrete data and anecdotes to properly situate readers in the author’s claims of a global crisis. Skeptics may also find it difficult to embrace the author’s point of view as he’s not an expert on the issues at hand although he notes that “I’ve lived in a specific context with a particular nature and nurture allowing me to be receptive to these issues while maintaining a relatively clear outlook.”

Jenkins in the guise of his complicated protagonist Denzel Davis tells readers that his experience growing up in 1990s Philadelphia was one of “dysfunction inserting the burdens and curses of my ancestors.” Denzel is constantly beset by circumstances beyond his control; as the author explains “My grandmother murdered my great-grandmother; my father drowned himself in alcohol; my other grandmother was an uneducated helpless invalid rooted in rigid traditions.” It’s a brutally frank depiction powerfully conveying the unholy legacy of institutionalized racism in the United States and its impact on the oppressed. Denzel is not some innocent figure of exemplary nature callously tossed into the gnashing jaws of outrageous fortune to fend for himself—he is actually an extremely flawed character whom many may well argue embraces criminality all too easily and without much remorse. He views continuing to engage in petty schemes to defraud people (with bogus checks and credit card scams) as simply a necessary course of action given his precarious situation and financial straits. In Jenkins’ stark and briskly paced narrative readers come to understand that Denzel for all his brashness and toughness suffers from profound mental health issues. The work functions as a deft commentary on the way American society dismissively judges those it actively seeks to dehumanize. “Brown evokes images of earth and soil drawing parallels to poverty and neglect” the author writes. “It is a color that often goes unnoticed as dull and repetitive as a song heard too many times. Yet within this hue lies an unrecognized resilience and strength.” Denzel may not be a saint as he valiantly strives to earn a degree and make it as an artist but in the end his fitful journey registers as heroic.

Words can do any number of things: they can heal they can hurt they can describe sounds they can ask questions and they can even entertain. Howell reminds readers that “Words are mighty words are strong. We write them speak them sing our song! I hope you learn new words today and think about the ones you say.” The text presents a list of big words sure to improve readers’ vocabulary covering emotions like frustration anger and excitement as well as everyday topics like transportation and the weather. The book is divided into sections of about three words each. Each term is paired with one of Rocco’s bold and colorful illustrations which truly carry the book by demonstrating their meanings fairly clearly. (Certain entries like “diesel” and “humid” may require further explanations from an adult reader as a child may not be able to infer their entire meanings from pictures of a train or a beach.) Despite the emphasis at the beginning and the end of the text on the importance of using your words wisely there is no clear trajectory in the pages that carries this intended moral. This volume may best be suited to a classroom setting as a supplement to a vocabulary-related assignment.

In keeping with Romani traditions young Marisol must enter an arranged marriage though she’d rather stay with Mammie Gran Rose and her sister Flora. Sneering “You’ll do what I want” her future husband Levoy is abusive just like Marisol’s father so when both men are killed in a brawl at her wedding Marisol isn’t heartbroken. However Romani culture shames widows and left without funds the women travel to Buckeye Lake Park in Ohio to work as fortune tellers. Two people at the park play a pivotal role in Marisol’s future: Lila the park manager’s wife honors her dead child who loved books by helping Marisol to practice reading; Will a young man who enlists in World War II as a pilot against his parents’ wishes locks eyes with Marisol in her exotic fortune-telling costume and is smitten. Their courtship remains clandestine—Will’s family thinks “Gypsies” are thieves and Romanis discourage relationships outside their clan. It’s a summer of many adventures for Marisol—a loathsome park man Hal makes her life difficult and disasters including a fire and a twister strike the park but positive events such as experiencing first love and applying to study medicine balance things out. Paul convincingly captures the ambiance of a 1940s small-town carnival: A saltwater taffy stall has “blue pink and yellow puffs twisted into waxy papers” the boardwalk is lined with hanging flower baskets and big-band music pours from the speakers. The dialogue sometimes sounds flat as everyone young and old speaks in a similar manner; however Marisol Will and Lila are likable kind and open-minded. The less charming characters are similarly well-developed; readers learn that Hal whose wife left him resents the entire Romani population because he believes they have taken all of the available jobs. Overall Paul presents a nuanced portrait of Romani culture depicting the Romani as more than martyrs—despite Nazi persecution—and displays varied traits like those in any other group.

Sixty-five-year-old Nancy Norman who recently ended a career as a home nurse loves James Bond movies and spy novels her cat (Dr. GoldenPaw) and the act of bedazzling nearly every surface of her Minneapolis home. She’s a woman with big dreams but little means to make them a reality beyond a casual flirtation with a handsome stranger on a dating app for senior citizens and she lacks a clear sense of purpose. So when she’s offered an overpaid position as a substitute night nurse for technology mogul and environmental activist Gnut Berdqvist she takes it. After intruders break into Gnut’s mansion however Nancy uncovers a labyrinth of corporate intrigue fraud and violence—and on top of everything her cat goes missing. Dahlman’s novel makes a solid effort to pay homage to classic espionage thrillers and the fact that the protagonist is a senior citizen is relatively uncommon in the genre and sets the stage for a truly engaging story. However various attempts at humor throughout the book often come off as silly. Characters generally feel underdeveloped and frequently use catchphrase-laden language such as a retired football star turned hacker who often uses football metaphors: “Hell yeah. Touchdown. Accessed the power grid.” Others fall into stereotypical patterns: The villains are oafish Gnut is a self-absorbed pseudo-environmentalist and Sinclair who becomes Nancy’s love interest is a narcissistic Englishman who wears a tuxedo to a jewel heist. The plot frequently drags through unimportant details particularly toward the end as a battle or a tense scene takes place in nearly every room in Gnut’s expansive mansion. Finally frequent references to Target department stores and its brands make the book feel like an advertisement at times rather than an intriguing spy tale.

Prize-winning scholar Nussbaum argues that opera engages in political thought conveying moral and philosophical ideas about rights and freedoms gender rank and class. Beyond the libretti these ideas are expressed in the music itself and in the act of singing. Nussbaum devotes half the book to Mozart whom she sees as “the deepest philosopher of the Enlightenment” cognizant of other major thinkers such as Jean-Jacques Rousseau Immanuel Kant and Johann Gottfried von Herder. Mozart was a Freemason a member of a “quasi-religion a fraternity based upon ethical commitments” especially to fostering human dignity. As a Freemason he was committed to the ideals of freedom equality mercy and fraternal love as well as to the rejection of religious superstition class privilege honor and revenge. These ideals inform Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro The Magic Flute Idomeneo Don Giovanni Così fan tutte and the lesser-known La clemenza di Tito operas in which characters commit bad acts motivated by a desire for revenge but in which mercy and reason prevail. Mozart Nussbaum asserts conceived of his operas as political contributing to the reshaping of human attitudes needed to forge a new public culture. The second half of the book considers operas that further Mozartean themes including Beethoven’s only opera Fidelio “opera’s greatest musical depiction” of hope; Heggie’s Dead Man Walking; Verdi’s Don Carlos infused with its creator’s “zeal for liberty”; Benjamin Britten’s Peter Grimes and his Albert Herring dealing with the plight of the outcast; Janacek’s Jenufa; John Adams’ Nixon in China; and Verdi’s Falstaff. These works capture the spirit of optimism and joy that pervades what the author calls “a republicanism of the heart.” In contrast Nussbaum sees Wagner as the composer whose despair xenophobic paranoia and fantasies of cultural purity place him in opposition to Mozartean ideals.

“Underwater pastures / ancient as dinosaurs / vital as trees / filled with wonders” Schaub writes as she tantalizingly beckons young audiences to join the racially diverse set of young snorkelers and beachcombers in Le’s flowing marine scenes. Slipping in explanatory notes between lines of sonorous free verse the author begins by differentiating seagrass—flowering plants that evolved from land plants millions of years ago—from both terrestrial grasses and seaweed. Along with pointing to the expansive “medley of marine life” that lives in these shallow water “meadows” from anemones and seahorses to dugongs she describes how the plants as “lungs of the sea” supply oxygen while slowing global warming by absorbing carbon dioxide filter out floating plastic and other pollution and in many places serve as part of a complex ecosystem with adjacent coral reefs and mangrove forests. Schaub closes with an invitation to readers to join the “seagrass heroes” who are working directly or indirectly to clean up and preserve these vital natural resources. Small photos enhance the appended glossary and annotations to an added gallery of close-up portraits by the illustrator supply further detail on the realistically rendered appealingly posed sea creatures glimpsed clinging to or hiding among waving green fronds in earlier views throughout.

Gwendolyn Honeydale’s father is dead but she seems to be the only one who cares. Her vain sister Fanny wears a dress to the funeral so revealing that it distracts the priest and her stingy mother allows the gravediggers to take as payment the coin in her father’s mouth—the one that tradition says is for paying St. Peter. With her father gone Gwen is completely at the mercy of the older Honeydale women who force her to sleep in the attic and shoulder most of the housework. The only kindness she finds comes from Paolo the handsome young glassmaker who’s just come to town to sell his wares in the marketplace. Gwen’s mother has arranged to have Fanny married off to Tobias Prigghemp the detestable eldest son of a local landowner and favorite of the king. Even worse her mother wants Gwen to marry Jerome Prigghemp the younger brother meaning she can’t act on the mutual attraction she feels with Paolo. When Gwen encounters an old woman in the woods she offers her water only to discover that the woman is a witch—or if the woman is to be believed Gwen’s fairy godmother. The woman grants Gwen an unasked-for ability of arguable value: Now diamonds and roses tumble unwanted out of her mouth. While socially embarrassing the idea of unlimited diamonds inspires the older Tobias to rescind his offer to Fanny and extend it to Gwen instead. Miffed Fanny hunts down the fairy godmother and receives a similar—if less desirable—ability: When she cries vipers and toads escape from her mouth. These traits make life quite a bit more complicated for the Honeydale sisters. Suspected of witchcraft Fanny is forced to go on the run and she soon becomes the apprentice of the fairy who cursed her. Meanwhile Gwen is newly betrothed to a gorgeous prince and whisked off to the capital. Gwen is no happier with the new situation than Fanny and both will have to figure out a way to free themselves from their bizarre circumstances.

Carlton writes with great humor and specificity forging like Paolo with his glasswork a unique sensibility within a world of familiar fairy-tale trappings. Here Fanny sneaks into Gwen’s wedding to the prince and invisibly watches her sister from above: “Fanny was still agitated with envy but it was obvious that Gwendolyn was unhappy…She hadn’t smiled once during the ceremony and looked as scared as a half-drowned kitten. She’s just a commodity to the royals thought Fanny. More of a mineral mine than a queen consort.” The first act of the novel is a fleshed-out but more or less faithful treatment of the Charles Perrault story “The Faeries.” Carlton’s contribution is to continue playing out the scenario allowing characters who initially seem one-dimensional to deepen and change in unexpected ways. Readers unfamiliar with the original story will still enjoy this witty immersive fantasy.

When it comes to dogs reciprocity rules: “We train them—and they train us. We care for them—and they care for us.” Puppy positivity is a big reason for our love of dogs: “Puppies live in the moment and make each day count!” The book recognizes the attributes that make canines beloved companions—fidelity playfulness—as well as the life-changing service of working dogs (including helping those who are visually impaired and wheelchair users). Unconditional love is one of the gifts a dog can offer along with modeling curiosity and persistence and providing comfort. A wonderful wordless spread depicts puppy communication and interaction. In one vignette a dog sticks its head out of the window of a moving car (“He celebrates the simple things”)—a potentially dangerous activity. That lapse aside readers will revel in the pooches portrayed in all their goofy glory and loving loyalty in detailed accurately colored careful illustrations that show a vast variety of breeds. We could do worse than to emulate some of the dog-embodied qualities described here. Human characters are diverse.

Maisie depicted as a contented slightly chubby young white girl loves to ride. While her big sister Zoe is fast svelte and determined Maisie trundles along on her comfortable squeaky old bike ice cream cone held in one hand. She would like to keep up with Zoe but she’s also happy to ride her own way (“I bet I have more fun on my bike rides!”) and she soon makes some likeminded friends: Tito who is Black and rides a recumbent three-wheeler with a horn; Jayden who is white and can pop wheelies; and Layla who has tan skin and brings all her stuffies with her in a trailer. The four start the Ragtag Best Friends Bicycle Club and quickly welcome a host of quirky new members—even Zoe is impressed by their all-inclusive approach. Blonsky writes from Maisie’s perspective mixing straightforward prose and dialogue with more stylized speech-bubble conversations. Maisie and her diverse group of friends emerge as well-adjusted kids secure in what brings them pleasure. Zoe provides measured contrast—she embodies cycling ideals but is missing out on something. Throughout Claffey captures the unadulterated joys of childhood and cycling offering simple but endearing digital illustrations with arresting background details including vivid images of trees the sun and clouds a cityscape and a page-spanning sunset.

In their debut collaboration Sodais and Sullivan trace their parallel paths throughout the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan at the start of the 21st century. Sodais was a young Persian-speaking Afghan at the time of the rise of the Taliban which was brutal for him. “The Taliban used their position of absolute power to punish and humiliate people who did not align with their version of Islam” he writes. “It was another lesson in the use of violence I would learn all too young.” In 2012 he was commissioned to work as an interpreter for an American platoon and met U.S. Army officer Sullivan. The two soon formed a working relationship and then a friendship and the narrative shifts between their viewpoints. Sodais remarks on the oddities of the U.S. military he observed as he accompanied Sullivan on his various missions and Sullivan reflects on the unforgiving country he was invading at the behest of his government. “Life is cheap in Afghanistan and violence part of its long bloody history” he writes. “What we took as jest or perfectly acceptable in the western world could be seen as unforgivable transgression in the East.” The contrasting perspectives render the book compelling and readable. The story becomes even more darkly gripping once the narrative reaches the chaotic U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021 and the resurgence of the Taliban which left Sodais scrambling to stay alive and escape the country which proved incredibly dangerous and difficult. “I wanted to leave and they wanted me gone so why was it so difficult to actually do it?” Sodais wonders at one point. “Why was there such a strict jail sentence for refugees caught trying to leave?” Both Sodais and Sullivan are genial presences on the page providing strikingly human responses to the war.

In the post–Civil War era writes law professor Green a “freethought” movement swept across the United States. It was never quite coherent with many strains of dissent advocating such causes as sexual liberation and militant atheism. Green’s account opens in 1887 with a New Jersey activist being hauled to court for blasphemy “one skirmish in a larger battle pitting the dominant evangelical Protestant establishment against emerging forms of religious heterodoxy.” Leading the establishment’s war was Anthony Comstock a special agent for the U.S. Post Office Department who prosecuted thousands of Americans for alleged obscenity after mailing what he considered subversive material. Comstock writes Green was “a religious fanatic a delusional self-appointed agent of God and a misogynist to boot” but much of his campaign and a law named for him remains in place today. Green capably traces the origins of the freethought movement and its principal exponents to the New England transcendentalists and the “tradition of eighteenth-century deism” though by the late-19th century they were far less genteel. At points freethought merged with violent anarchism at other points with feminist rejection of the “Christian ‘ideal’ of marriage and family” and at every turn it was met with severe opposition from the religious orthodoxy. This conservative front strongly supported Comstock while resisting efforts to weaken the powers of the major denominations. The freethought movement essentially disappeared in the early 20th century and for various reasons: The Red Scare of the 1920s cowed many leftists into silence while movement leaders such as Robert Ingersoll found no heirs after their death. But more Green writes “many of the causes that freethinkers embraced and believed were inhibited by organized religion—scientific inquiry evolution greater artistic and intellectual freedom and social reform— were gaining ground on their own.”

Drugan's father was a well-respected man around their suburban Boston-area town. The local dentist he was known for his bedside manner his local philanthropy and his involvement in the town’s Catholic parish which his family had attended for generations. The author knew a much different man from his public persona however; his father seemed to single out Drugan among his siblings for scorn. When the author was 13 he heard his father admit to his mother that he despised his middle son. That year at Thanksgiving the elder Drugan menaced the boy while he was doing the dishes: “His hot breath washed in my ear and down my neck and I was so repulsed that my knees went weak” the author recounts. As the boy grew older his father’s rage began to manifest as violent beatings. Eventually Drugan realized that the source of his father’s hatred was the author’s latent homosexuality—a profound taboo in his family’s conservative Irish Catholic community. With this memoir Drugan unpacks how his father’s abuse shaped the man the author eventually became and details the long struggle he overcame to forgive the abuser—and to love himself. (In addition to being a moving story of surviving abuse the book is a wonderful document of Massachusetts in the 1970s; at one point future senator Scott Brown comes to Drugan's aid against locker room bullies.) Drugan conveys his story in nimble prose masterfully constructing his characters’ psychologies. “I don’t know what exposure he had to gay men earlier in his life because he never talked about anything remotely related to sex” he writes of his father. “Still he knew I was ‘different’ before I did. My emerging sexuality eroded the modicum of humanity I had left.” Any readers who had complicated relationships with their parents will likely see shades of their own family interactions in these pages.

Macy Miller is a dutiful wife and mother: She raises her two kids keeps a clean home and looks after her husband Chris when he stumbles home drunk every night. On one such evening Macy elects to break with routine. Inebriated Chris falls down outside and Macy watches silently as his body is buried by the snow. Chris survives albeit in a hypothermic coma. While her husband lies in the hospital Macy reflects on her choice to let him die: “She had crossed an invisible line inside herself and the realization of what she was capable of was as significant as the act itself.” As Schrader’s well-paced story unfolds and Macy’s past indiscretions come to light it becomes clear that her actions on that night were not truly out of character. There is a “beast” inside of her one that craves an intense life but she has instead chosen stability. As a teen this beast manifested in acts of self-harm and an assault on a boy who is now the detective investigating Chris’ accident. Later Chris awakens and is spiritually reborn. His resultant commitment to sobriety and God culminates in new careers for him and Macy as Christian influencers. As Macy is thrown back into the mundanity of her life her secret urges for a different existence threaten to again rise to the surface. Schrader deftly examines the peril of hiding one’s true self and the struggle to maintain the masks we wear in society. His prose is evocative without being overwrought; describing Macy’s beast he writes “It lived…In the depths beneath the oak trees. In that half-second of eye contact with the mud-slicked man whose teeth had gleamed in the shadows. Something has been passed to her. Something that had never left since.” This well-crafted novel combines the excitement of a thriller with the insight of character-driven literary fiction.

The youngster may be visiting but specific details in Grant’s softly colored art suggest that Grandfather’s cozy house—indeed the entire verdant landscape—is truly home. As an unseen narrator exhorts readers to appreciate small joys both concrete and abstract (“the sunshine warm on your skin” “the seeking the aha! of finding”) the pair enjoy breakfast then drive to a quiet cove. The ocean is calm the sandy beach almost empty. The child revels in the hot sun and “silky sand” the “sea-salty air” and a dip in the water with its “breath-stealing chill.” Elder and child savor “the sweetness of summer-ripe peaches” and just-picked blackberries. Swooping sea gulls a tide pool filled with sea stars a glimpse of whale fin and the “finger-paint sky” at sunset all deepen the day’s delights. Most worth savoring of course is “the love that holds your heart tight” expressed in snuggles and cuddles ebulliently given and received despite the “whiskery scratch” of the older man’s scruffy bearded face. The four-beat lines are both natural and propulsive with internal rhymes alliteration and accessible diction. Caregiver and child present white.

Born in 1854 Cornelia “Fly Rod” Crosby went on to become an author and journalist particularly renowned for her fishing stories. Along with stimulating both the tourist industry (she coined the catchphrase “Maine the Nation’s Playground”) and a love of outdoorsy pursuits in general she became the state’s first officially licensed tour guide and a wilderness advocate to the end of her long life. Readers primed for specific anecdotes or yarns that would capture the flavor of her writing will have to look elsewhere but Mealey does reel off the major events of her life in breezy prose laced with appreciative comments—and then closes with writing prompts and pointers for budding authors tempted to craft “fish stories” of their own. Rivers some filled with colorful trout and other fish flow through Michael’s illustrations of the smiling confident-looking outdoorswoman casting a line or tossing back her catch (she was an early advocate of catch and release) and indoors either sitting at her writing desk or posing amid outdoor wear and gear at expositions. She and those around her are pale-skinned but there is some racial diversity in closing scenes of modern hikers and museumgoers.

The second installment in Desai’s series picks up right where the initial entry Bad Americans: Part I (2025) left off. The year is 2020 and Covid-19 is rampant throughout the world. Twelve diverse guests are assembled at the home of a wealthy man named Olive Mixer. It is a reality-show-like setting where people mingle romantically argue over their differing worldviews and participate in activities like dodgeball and Family Feud. The main thrust though is the stories: Each guest receives an allocated time to address everyone else in the house with a tale (Part 1 covered six guests; this sequel features the remaining six). The attendees include Lisa tells of a traumatic experience she experienced while in college and the many uncomfortable situations she encountered while working for a Spanish artist limning an adult life marked by “microaggressions” from men. Khassan has a more fantastical tale about a young Muslim man named Amir whom he describes as “an utterly incompetent NYU dropout with zero real world experience.” Amir may be incompetent but he goes on quite an international adventure. The stories are as varied as the characters who tell them: An Indian man named Pritesh spins a yarn about an Indian man in America involved in a love triangle that takes an unexpectedly dark turn; 19-year-old model and social media star Hayley outlines the predatory aspects of being a pretty face on Instagram. While these narratives hold the reader’s interest the action between the stories is not as stimulating; a bit about horseback riding is no more exciting than it sounds (“Eventually everyone learned to mount the horse and led by their trainer were pulled along the plain and then through a small horse show track avoiding the hurdles and jumps”). Still the novel proves memorable for its presentation of many distinct points of view.

Sharkey and his family took hundreds of celebrity photos pictures of everyone from John Cleese and Sean Connery to Joan Collins and Tilda Swinton. These were no paparazzi snapshots: The famous paid to have their portraits taken. They were among the many people from all walks of life who strode into the family’s studio on Oxford Street in London to have their passport photos taken. Passport Photo Service was in business for 66 years closing its doors in 2019 and in that time it was visited by among others actors and authors and athletes and musicians. Sharkey’s father David a former boxer was inspired to open a “quick and easy photography service” when hearing an American tear into “this lousy town” that couldn’t provide him with a same-day passport photo. This delightful collection includes 300 never-before-seen mostly black-and-white images that show another side to familiar faces. We see a boyish Daniel Day-Lewis photographed in 1987 a kerchief around his neck a Mona Lisa smile across his lips. Stephen Fry wearing a tie—and a devilish grin—was a regular visitor to the studio Sharkey says in one of the accompanying notes. Fry’s headshot was displayed in the shop next to that of his comedy partner Hugh Laurie which Sharkey writes led to “good-natured and often bawdy comments from both on seeing each other’s images when visiting.” David Hockney appears in two photos in 1965 and 1970 his prominent round glasses giving him the appearance of a proto-Harry Potter. Chrissie Hynde in four images from the ’80s and ’90s has (fittingly enough) the cool look of a rock star and Chaka Khan in 1990 is seen beaming. The smiles have been lost to post-9/11 rules about neutral expressions. Also lost is a shop that provided a basic travel necessity a photo that was as Sharkey writes a “great leveller.”

Drawing upon a well-traveled life and a deep well of literary knowledge the author delivers a collection that veers wildly in tone—from poetic incantations to tragic tales to playful satire—yet manages to maintain a coherent philosophical throughline: the search for connection meaning and catharsis in a chaotic world. The collection opens with poems like “Live Where There’s Water” a cryptic and wry meditation on artistic purpose and poetic lineage. The standout story “Death Mask” revives the spirit of 19th-century opera with gothic grandeur and heartfelt melodrama. Told through the voice of fictional tenor Otto de Carr the story explores grief guilt and memory in lavish impassioned prose: “If I fail in this attempt if you dear audience will not accept me after hearing this tale then I shall be forced to obey the outraged cry of my own vengeful heart.” Long’s recreation of an overwrought yet sincere operatic voice is both impressive and emotionally resonant. “Strange Fox Hunts” offers comic relief taking a turn toward the absurd as it recounts an over-the-top family legend involving a foxhunt that barrels through a church during Sunday service (the farcical ending is rendered with gleeful exaggeration and satirical bite). In “Getting to Know the Neighbors” the author turns his gaze to modern suburbia and small-town paranoia as the protagonist observes his eclectic and increasingly bizarre community. His tongue-in-cheek inventory includes “Manic dangerous book editors” “Religious fanatics” and “Nitwits in gigantic pickup trucks jacked up gigantically off the ground.” Throughout the poems act as thematic anchors or meditative interludes. Some like “Invocation” channel ritualistic lyricism (“Invisible spirits / We fly through the trees”) while others like “The Poetry War” lean into autobiographical tenderness. The book’s eclecticism is both its strength and its risk; some readers may find the tonal shifts jarring or uneven. But Long’s prose is consistently well crafted and his command of voice particularly in stories with distinct narrators is remarkable.

Historian Sneff a leading expert on the Declaration of Independence reminds readers that the Revolution was already a year old at its adoption on July 4 1776. Every colony received the news by the end of the month. Sneff does a fine job of answering “the questions of who experienced the news of independence and when and how they did so [which] reveals a critical overlooked history of the American Revolution.” She begins on May 15 1776 when the Second Continental Congress issued a resolution recommending that colonies “form new governments founded on the consent of the governed.” Few doubted that this was a call for independence and by the year’s end all royal governors were gone. The ball was rolling; in June a committee of five composed a formal declaration with Thomas Jefferson doing most of the work and Congress formally adopted it on July 4. On that day Philadelphia printer John Dunlap ran off several hundred broadsides of which 25 survive. Both the broadsides and the news traveled the world and half-a-dozen chapters deliver details of its reception. Mostly greeted enthusiastically throughout the colonies the declaration was often read aloud to crowds but Sneff reminds readers that it presented Anglican clergymen with a painful decision. During ordination all swore to adhere to the Book of Common Prayer which requires prayers for the king’s health and prosperity. A minority decided to skip the prayers but breaking an oath was a serious matter and about half of Anglican churches shut their doors. Britain was grumbling over the news by August yet the lone copy of the official version sent to France never arrived so representative Silas Deane could only gnash his teeth until another came in November. France’s government expressed pleasure at Britain’s discomfiture but declined a military alliance.