Tag Archives: nonfiction

Opposable Thumbs, by Matt Singer*****

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Gene Siskel and Robert Ebert were the best known film critics in the United States during the last quarter of the twentieth century. Their often fractious debates on television opened up a new conversation among its viewers. Entertaining, principled, and deeply analytical, they said what they really thought in every forum available, without concern for bruising the egos of industry titans or corporate sponsors. Matt Singer recounts this important chapter in television—and film—history, and he does it well.

My thanks go to NetGalley and Putnam Books for the review copy. This book is available to the public right now.

In the beginning, Siskel and Ebert were journalists and professional rivals working for competing Chicago newspapers. They were invited to share a stage on a local TV station, and the program was successful beyond everyone’s wildest expectations. The hardest to sell on the notion were Gene Siskel, who felt sure he could carry the show on his own without Ebert, and Ebert, who wanted it for himself without Siskel. The two men hated each other on sight, but the energy that crackled between these two tremendously articulate critics made outstanding television; viewers understood immediately that what they brought to the screen was completely authentic. Eventually, the pair took their skills to a larger network with syndication, and soon became famous nationwide and even beyond.

I was a kid when these two took to the airwaves, and as I grew older, I never watched them. At most, I saw their faces flicker by as I channel surfed. I had nothing against these men in particular; I never watched talk shows, which is what this felt like to me. And I tell you this because—as you can see from my rating—I love this book. Perhaps this is a good measure of how the show’s fans will feel about it.

Over the years, the men became friends, almost in spite of themselves. Both held journalistic integrity as the highest of ideals, and this quality helped them bond. Roger Ebert famously dissed Chevy Chase’s newly released movie on the Tonight Show, with Chase sitting next to him on the sofa. This wasn’t an angry gesture, just the unvarnished truth. (Perhaps Carson shouldn’t have asked him what he thought.) Together they waged a campaign against movies that glorified violence against women; they saw this trend as a backlash against the third wave of feminism. I believe they were right. In everything they did, their analysis was deeply intelligent, and their explanations and debate points were simple enough for any member of the general public to understand what they were saying.

For fans of the show, this book is an absolute must read, and for those that are interested in film criticism, film history, or any adjacent topic, I would say the same. I am not especially interested in any of these, but I do love a good biography, and this is that. If anything, it made me wish, just a little, that I had watched their program. Perhaps I will surf the internet and find an old one that I can view.

Highly recommended.

Gator Country, by Rebecca Renner***-****

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3.5 stars, rounded upward.

Rebecca Renner is a journalist who has written for National Geographic and a host of other prestigious newspapers and magazines. Gator Country is her first book. Lucky me, I read it free and early. My thanks go to Macmillan Audio and Net Galley for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

Gator Country is the true story of wildlife officer Jeff Babouta and the sting that brought in a number of poachers and slowed the ravaging of the alligator population in the Florida Everglades. Babouta is coasting toward retirement when he is approached, and although he is reluctant, he is eventually convinced that he is the best qualified officer to carry out this assignment. To do it, he has to live away from his family for years, posing as a newbie gator farmer. This is a legal profession, but it’s also one that is rife with poachers. In order to bring the poachers in, he must first convince them to mentor him and befriend him in his farming operation. He spends years gaining their trust and learning from them, but then has to turn them in.

I thought hard about whether to read this book, because generally speaking, I don’t have warm feelings toward cops, and the past ten years have intensified that sentiment. But rangers and other wildlife cops are a bit more ambiguous; some of them do more good than harm. So it is with Babouta.

There are, Renner tells us, basically two types of poachers. Some are the small, independent people that she says are just trying to feed their families, and some are the large scale despoilers, those working on a large scale to provide gator parts to buyers from China, where they are prized for their medicinal properties and folk cures. Renner is sympathetic toward the former but not the latter.

In following Babouta’s story I pick up odd bits of knowledge. I have never been to the Everglades, nor do I plan to, and so had I not read this book, I would probably never have known that there are bottlenose dolphins there. Who knew? There are a number of such tidbits that I pick up along the way, and this is one of the best things about reading—or listening to—nonfiction.

That said, the audio becomes a complicated read for two reasons. One is that the narrative skips around a great deal. The main part is Babouta’s, but we also hear about Peg Brown, a legendary poacher whose name keeps coming up as Babouta converses with his new colleagues. I have no idea why I or any reader needs to know so much about the guy; from where I sit, Brown hasn’t earned his place in this book, but then it’s not my book. The story is needlessly complicated by Brown as well as a handful of other bits that are woven into the narrative, such as the journalist following along, and we would be better off without these.

The other issue with the audio is that when we shift the point of view, the person whose story we’re hearing has exactly the same voice as Babouta. Now and then I would have to pause and run it back, just to figure out who we’re talking about, or hearing from.

Even though the synopsis makes it crystal clear that the book is about wildlife poaching, rather than an alligator version of Jaws, I expected to hear of some close calls, some scary moments. But the scary moments are mostly about humans.

At the beginning, this book was such a snooze that in order to force myself to keep listening, I found other things to do with my hands. About a third of the way in, however, the story woke up, and after that I was mostly interested, apart from the occasional divergence of topic and point of view. For those that are sufficiently interested to want to read this book, I recommend that you either stick to the print version, or if you strongly favor the audio, get the print version to help you stay oriented and follow along. I would also try to get it free or cheap, unless you have an endless amount of cash to burn.

The Meth Lunches, by Kim Foster****

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Kim Foster and her husband, David, create a food pantry in front of their house—and later, inside it—during the pandemic. It begins with the employment of one hungry handyman who’s also an addict, and from there, it mushrooms. This is her memoir of that time, and also a philosophical treatise on poverty and hunger in the United States.

My thanks go to Net Galley, RB Media, and St. Martin’s Press for the review copies. This book is for sale now.

When Foster’s family moves from New York to Las Vegas, one of the first thing she notices is the meth. It’s everywhere. Perhaps it is the milder weather; addicts in New York have to find a spot out of the weather during much of the year, but Vegas is in the desert, mild enough for the unhoused to sleep just about anywhere, warm enough that addicts don’t have to hide themselves away to get high.

The pandemic hits Vegas hard. So many people make their living from some aspect of the entertainment business, and for a while, it is a dead industry. And so, after hiring a man with an obvious dependency to do work on their property—work that he never completes—and hearing his story, the Fosters decide to convert the little free library in front of their home to a little free pantry. And from there, it mushrooms.

The pantry begins small, but Foster is a chef, and she can’t stand the notion of just putting out pre-packaged crap when she can cook food with fresh ingredients that will make others feel better. And as the book takes off, I momentarily regret taking this galley, because I generally hate stories that drop recipes into the middle of the plot. If I want cooking information, I’d rather go to a cookbook, or to a recipe website. And it was right there in the title, after all: The Meth Lunches. It’s pretty obvious from the get go that lunch is going to be juxtaposed with social issues.

But as the story continues, I don’t hate it after all. For one thing, this whole book is nonfiction. There’s no plot that is sidelined by a recipe. The whole point is that that Foster considers food, and the act of feeding others, to be a sort of therapy. She makes the point well.

Eventually, the scale of the operation becomes mind boggling. Multiple freezers to hold meat; trucks that deliver food. The pantry begins as an out-of-pocket gift from the Fosters to the down and out of Las Vegas, occasionally supplemented via Venmo from friends, when they are able to help. Inevitably, the pantry finds its way into the local media, and networks form with other food banks and nonprofits.

In between all of this, Foster develops relationships with some of the people that come by. She and her husband are foster parents—ironic, given their name, right? And we hear not only about what the children they house and love have experienced, but also about the children’s biological families. Because although it’s officially discouraged, Kim strongly feels that the children heal best if their biological parents are in their lives in whatever limited way is possible. So before we know it, she is deeply involved with some horribly dysfunctional adults as well. And it is the stories she tells about interacting with them and the children, two of whom she and David eventually adopt, that make this story so riveting.

At the outset, she intends for the pantry to be a resource for local families that have homes and kitchens, but whose finances have taken a huge hit due to the pandemic. The very poor already have resources, she reasons. But of course, the homeless find her, and she doesn’t turn them away.

And here is the rub, the only aspect of this book that I dislike. She tells us that one unhoused person in four is mentally ill, and she believes that this official figure is low, at least in Las Vegas. And then she talks about those with addiction issues.

But what she never gets around to discussing at all—unless she does it so briefly that I miss it—is the unhoused people that are not chemically dependent on anything, whose mental health is stable, but who don’t have a permanent residence because they straight-up ran out of money. To hear her tell it, you’d think they don’t exist, and you know that’s not so. So many American families live from paycheck to paycheck, even when the economy is said to be booming. And I feel that she has left these people without faces or voices. And that, in turn, perpetuates a stereotype, the one that suggests that everyone that is homeless is there because they’re either crazy or junkies or both. I use the offensive terms intentionally, because that’s how the stereotype works. 

And the stereotype in turn begets a lie, the insinuation that nobody has to be unhoused. Don’t use drugs. Get mental health care. Get over yourself. And whereas I can see that Foster doesn’t intend to promote such thinking, and in fact takes a hard line over poverty existing at all in such a wealthy nation, when she doesn’t give space to the many, many individuals and families that are out there because the wage earner was laid off, or because they were just squeaking by but then the rent increased, it does distort her overall picture. I don’t come away from this book thinking that most of the homeless are not using meth or any other dangerous, life-altering street drugs, even though it’s true.

Nevertheless, this is a poignant, stirring tale that won’t be told by anyone else, because it can’t be, and bearing in mind the caveats above, I recommend it to you, both as audio and print.

Lexington, by Kim Wickens****

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Kim Wickens’s book Lexington tells the story, not only of one immensely famous, popular race horse, but of horse racing in general during a bygone era in the U.S. My thanks go to Net Galley and Random House Ballantine for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

From 1780 to 1860, horse racing was the most popular spectator sport in the United States, and almost a religion in the South. Great fortunes rose and fell with the purchase, training, performing, and procreating of prize horses, and Lexington was the greatest of them all. Kim Wickens has done an astounding amount of research. This is probably the best documented work on equestrian history on the market today. If you love horses, and especially if you love horse racing, then this book is for you.

This reviewer knows little about either subject; I read it because it was different from most history books I’ve seen. My particular interest is the American Civil War; the synopsis mentioned General Grant and Abraham Lincoln, and I was all in. One of Lexington’s progenies was gifted to Grant by a supporter during the war, and he prized it greatly. The horse, Cincinnati, carried its new owner into at least three major battles. Grant allowed no one else to ride it, except, on a single occasion, President Abraham Lincoln.

Sadly for me, that’s about all we see of Lincoln, Grant, or the Union Army. It’s done in about four pages, which left me with 412 other pages. There are additional aspects here that are of interest to me, in particular the role of Lexington and his descendants in the crime spree by a bushwhacker named Sue Mundy, a name the man took on in order to throw lawmen off his trail. In fact, I found the second half of this meaty story to be much more interesting than the first half. Of course, although I like horses well enough from a distance, I have never been a rider or had any active interest in them. I am a city dweller, urban to my bones. For horse lovers, perhaps the first half will be as interesting or even more so.

One thing that I must mention has to do with the difficult material. This is nonfiction, and sometimes Lexington and other horses were mistreated by those responsible for their care. Whereas some race horse owners genuinely loved their steeds, ultimately they were investments. What to do with a horse, whether to race it or rest it, keep it or sell it, was governed mostly by the bottom line. Doubtless they would be appalled, were they alive today, to see the vast amount of coddling and spoiling we in the twenty-first century devote to our various fur babies. If you were to make a Venn diagram between us, about the only item that would occupy the shared bubble in the middle would be that we all own animals. That’s it. Whereas there is never any gratuitous description of the violence and other cruelties visited on the horses Wickens discusses, it’s in there, and if you can’t stand it, don’t read it.

I have rated Lexington four stars for a general readership, but for those with a strong, particular interest in horses, racing, and the history of both, this is most likely a five star read. Wickens is off and running!

The West, by Naoise Mac Sweeney****-*****

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4.5 stars, rounded up.

Those that have taken a course on Western Civilization—as college freshmen or otherwise—are familiar with its framework, that the modern world can attribute its earliest, most progressive, democratic, and technically superior attributes to the dead White European men that came before us. Archeologist and award-winning historian Naoise Mac Sweeney has taken a sledgehammer to this construct, proving that many of the smartest scientists, inventors, and social, military, and political leaders were not White, not European, and not male.

My thanks go to Net Galley and Random House for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

Mac Sweeney demonstrates her thesis by discussing fourteen key figures from the past that don’t fit into the standard framework. She begins with Herodotus and ends with Carrie Lam. Some chapters read like a college text or lecture, one where I know that this information is important, but my mind keeps wandering, and I check to see how much longer the chapter will be. Others woke me up. In chapter seven, she features Safiye Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. She was not legally able to become sultan following her husband’s death, so she saw her son installed, and then “summarily executed” his nineteen younger brothers to prevent anyone from contesting his right to rule. Another that made me sit up and take notice is Njinga of Angola. I was riveted by this one, to the extent that I actually shouted at one point. (It’s all right; I was at home.)  If we judge her work by whether she has proven her thesis, then unquestionably she has done so. 

There are two aspects that I didn’t care for here. The first is a mannerism. The use of the Victorian “we” is grating. “As we shall see…” “We have discussed…” No. She has already seen, and the only one doing the discussing within the pages of this book is the author.  Also, since the title itself identifies this tome as a history book, Carrie Lam of Hong Kong, whose quotes date from 2021 and 2017, has no business being included here. History is defined as what has occurred fifty years or more prior to publication. Mac Sweeney knows this.

In a fit of pique over these two flaws, in addition to the snoozy parts of the narrative, I initially rated this book with four stars, but this is a groundbreaking body of work, and after reflection, I changed my rating to 4.5 stars, rounded up.

Highly recommended to students and to anyone interested in world history.

Bad Mormon, by Heather Gay***

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I was in the mood for a celebrity wallow and that’s what I got. I have never watched Gay on any reality TV program, but was drawn by the book’s sassy title. I checked out the audio version of this memoir from Seattle Bibliocommons and listened to it in the evenings when I was watering my plants.

I had a bit of an anti-Mormon bias going into this thing, having spent a somewhat traumatic freshman semester at BYU, the Mormon’s flagship college, several decades ago. I was a squeaky clean kid with several Mormon friends, and I thought I’d fit right in. I didn’t, and the system reeked of superficiality, rewarded passivity for the girls, and I saw hypocrisy and double standards; it grated on me. I couldn’t wait to get out of there, even though I had initially been desperate to live anywhere in the world other than home. So I smiled when I saw this memoir, and thought okaaay! Let’s hear it.

By the time Gay was finished, I was a little less anti-Mormon than when she began. What can I say? Perhaps I was born contrary. But to kick over the traces of the faith and culture in which you have been raised, there should be a good reason, right? Maybe you’ve found disparities and contradictions within the doctrine, or decided that a system that endorsed racism and sexism was not okay, or as a woman, you longed for a professional career that required brains and didn’t involve staying home all day. A good reason.

But for Gay, she changed, and yet she didn’t. She wanted more control of her own life, and there, I sympathize. But ultimately what she really wanted to do was develop a business in which she sold women booty-shot photographs of themselves and peddled a product that allowed women to do their own Botox injections; because, she asks, what could possibly be more important than your physical appearance? And I said, Yup. Sounds plenty Mormon to me.

Other things rubbed me the wrong way, too. Here’s one: while she is being filmed for the Real Housewives TV program, she realizes that she has to formally break with the Church, which in turn means pulling the rug out from under her three daughters. Telling them about this is something to be done privately, with sensitivity and care, right? Well, no. She does it while she’s being filmed, so it will turn up in a zillion living rooms all over America, including those of their extended family and the girls’ classmates. She peppers her narrative with quotes from the Book of Mormon–which she doesn’t cite; is she being ironic, or running on automatic pilot?

I just can’t.

On the other hand, what does one expect from a book like this? There are a few good laughs, and lots of cliches. And I learned what goes on in a temple ceremony; spoiler alert, it’s dull.

For those that are interested, I advocate for getting this book free or cheap. Don’t pony up the full cover price.

If It Sounds Like a Quack, by Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling*****

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Pulitzer Prize finalist Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling takes on the weird world of alternative medicine and the medical freedom movement in his new book, If It Sounds Like a Quack. My thanks go to Net Galley and PublicAffairs for the review copy. This book is available to the public right now.

The fact is, I have—or I had—no particular interest in alternative medicine, but I had read Hongoltz-Hetling’s last book, A Libertarian Walks Into a Bear, which was well researched, well written, and most importantly, completely hilarious. I have reviewed over 800 books, but the number of those that I later purchased is smaller than 10; yet I bought that book to give as a Christmas gift. So when I saw that he had another book available, I didn’t hesitate. And I wasn’t disappointed.

The book describes the bizarre programs and treatments espoused by six individuals: Larry Lytle, Toby McAdam, Robert O. Young, Alicja Kolyszko, Dale and Leilani Neumann, and The Alien. The seventh player in each section is America, and that’s where we see what U.S. laws say, and what enforcement, if any, comes down on these snake oil salesmen.

The opening section, the first of four, introduces each of these players and explains what led to them going into the businesses they have chosen. Among the various One True Cures are a laser salesman, a leech peddler, faith healers, a supplement seller, and a Mormon missionary that resurrects a long-dead theory about germs. There’s also a pair that develops a health drink; one of them is human, and one is not.

The author suggests that the success of these characters—and some of them have become wealthy beyond belief—has a good deal to do with the state of standard medical care in America. Nobody trusts Big Pharma. The disparity of what treatments we can expect is so great that in one New York hospital, there’s a wait time in the ER of nearly 6 hours for most people, whereas the wealthy can get a private room with high thread count sheets and a butler. One can see why many people conclude that anything must be better than this; yet, they are mistaken.

Apart from his sterling research and documentation, and his clear, conversational tone that at times caused me to forget, momentarily, that I was reading nonfiction, the thing that sets Hongoltz-Hetling apart from others is his ability to shift seamlessly from prose that is falling-down-funny, to that which is not only serious, but tragic, without ever breaking the boundaries of good taste. Because he did it so brilliantly in his last book, I watched for it this time—and I still couldn’t catch the segue way from one to the other.

Because I had fallen behind in my nonfiction reviews, I checked out the audio version from Seattle Bibliocommons and listened to it while I watered my plants. It is very well done, and I had no problem following the thread. The only downside is that the printed version has some humorous puns by way of spelling that the listener misses.

One way or the other, get this book and read it, even if the topic isn’t inside your usual field of interest. Highly recommended to everyone.

Biting the Hand, by Julia Lee****

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Julia Lee is not amused, and she’s decided to say the things nobody else is saying. In this deeply analytical, provocative memoir, she tells us about her own experiences growing up, and the issues faced by Asian immigrants and Asian Americans in the United States, where “we are critical to the pyramid scheme of the American Dream.”

My thanks go to Net Galley, Henry Holt Publishers, and Macmillan Audio for the review copies. This book is for sale now.

In some ways, I feel as though I am reading someone else’s mail as I read this, because it is clearly intended for an audience of people of color. However, I did read it, and I’m going to review it.

When the discussion of race in the U.S. comes about, it is, as Lee states, almost always a conversation about Black people and Caucasians. Those that don’t fit into either group are sidelined. Perhaps more harmful is the way that people of Asian descent are presumed to be sympathetic to the status quo. Ever since a major news periodical dubbed Asians as “the model minority” back in the early 1960s, expectations and assumptions have leaned in that direction. And the roots of this division—Black versus Asian—make this a particularly thorny assumption to untangle. After all, a large percentage of African-Americans can trace their lineage to slavery; their ancestors weren’t born in the States, nor did they choose to come here, but were kidnapped and brought by force. Angry? You bet! But Asian immigrants came of their own accord, oftentimes fleeing untenable circumstances in their countries of origin. And so, their children, and those that have come after, have largely been indoctrinated to be appreciative. If things don’t go well, they tell them, then we must work harder!

This Caucasian reviewer comes to you without the Asian background, appearance, or experience that Lee speaks of; yet I live in a city that has one of the largest Asian populations in the U.S., and am married to an Asian immigrant, and parent to a child that is half-Japanese. So many of the stories—strangers that ask where you’re from, and won’t accept the truth of “California,” where Lee was born, or “Seattle,” my daughter’s hometown, are familiar ones.

Lee is fed up with the mainstream news stories that endeavor to pit Asian and Black people against each other. Her parents were small business owners in a mostly Black part of Los Angeles during the riots of 1992, and her experiences inform her conclusion, that there must be solidarity between all people of color in order to successfully fight for significant change.

The one bone I have to pick is the casual manner in which she dismisses the question of social class as a key factor. Her very brief note about this is that it’s a tomato and to-mah-to issue, not worth much discussion, because most people of color are working class. This is simply untrue, and it enforces a stereotype of Black people as being mostly poor and dispossessed, when in actuality, eighty percent of Black people in the US live above the poverty line. There are African-Americans that have far more money than I will ever see; some of the many Asian groups have a higher median income than Caucasians. So yes, social class is a huge factor here, one that Lee should examine more critically. There are working class Whites that can be allies; there are wealthy families of color that would shut down the struggle, given half a chance. The missing star in my rating reflects her failure to recognize this, and to offer concrete solutions to this problem.

The book’s title comes from Lee’s mentor at the otherwise very white-supremacist dominated Harvard—Jamaica Kinkaid. I actually gasped when I saw this. What a luminary she found to guide her!

Both the audio and print version of this book are equally readable, so go with whatever you usually prefer.

This is a fine resource for those seeking to examine Asian and Asian-American racial dynamics. Read it critically, but do read it. There’s a lot here that has needed to be said for a long, long time.

The Elephants of Thula-Thula, by Francoise Malby-Anthony****

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Francoise Malby-Anthony is an established author and the owner of a game reserve in South Africa. Although she’s written previous books about this reserve, The Elephants of Thula-Thula is the first of her books that I’ve read. My thanks go to Net Galley and Macmillan Audio for the review copy; this book is for sale now.

As I begin listening to the audiobook, I am not sure I like it much. After a brief passage about elephants, the author segues into a longer piece about rhinos and by the time she admits that the rhinos are her favorites, I mutter, “No kidding!” There are other passages in which she gushes about the refuge’s well-heeled but generous donors, and I’m beginning to feel as if this is the sort of book that people will buy because the refuge is a good cause, but nobody will actually learn anything or even enjoy it much.

About halfway in, though, I have a change of heart. The second half is much better than the first. She discusses throughout the book the challenges posed to the refuge by the pandemic, and she talks about the measures taken to remain solvent while also keeping her employees whole. There is actually more talk about elephants now. I confess I am jarred by the moment when a favorite animal dies (no spoilers) and she tells us that this is the worst grief of her entire life. She says this not too long after explaining that the reserve’s founder, her husband, has recently died, and so my head snaps up when the tells us that the loss of the animal is the worst. I am chalking it up to hyperbole, but if I were the editor, I’d suggest a rewording.

Nevertheless, there are wonderful anecdotes about the elephants, and of course the rhinos, as well as the addition of a cheetah. She discusses baboons—I’d never fully realized how scary they can be—and I enjoyed hearing about how one goes about moving a giraffe to another location. There’s a lot more about elephants in the second half, and she discusses the threat to the herd when some bureaucrats add up the acreage and decide that there are too many elephants here, and some must be either moved out or “culled” (which means, of course, killed!) The reserve is expanded, but it takes a whole lot of jockeying and maneuvering to carry it off.

Readers that have enjoyed Malby-Anthony’s earlier books, or that have a strong interest in wildlife preserves may enjoy this book greatly, and it is to them that I recommend it.

Poverty by America, by Matthew Desmond****

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“Hungry people want bread. The rich convene a panel of experts. Complexity is the refuge of the powerful.”

Desmond is the author of Evicted, the Pulitzer winning examination of urban homelessness. Desmond himself grew up poor, and his family was forced out of their home when he was a child. These things give him a different and more authoritative perspective than most urban ethnographers.

 My thanks go to Net Galley and Crown Publishing for the invitation to read and review. This book will be available to the public tomorrow, March 21, 2023.

This book is written for a general readership, and it’s more readable than any other nonfiction work I’ve seen on this subject. His tone is conversational, and his research is impeccable, drawing from a wide variety of sources, well integrated and organized. He addresses the past and present roles of racism, explaining how the overtly discriminatory statutes and policies of the past have morphed into more subtly framed, yet still ubiquitous ones of today. He tells us “why there is so much poverty in America and…how to eliminate it.” He speaks to an audience of middle and upper class readers, warning that we must “…each of us, in our own way, [must become] poverty abolitionists, unwinding ourselves from our neighbors’ deprivation and refusing to live as unwitting enemies of the poor.”

In revealing the roots of American poverty, Desmond is thorough. He discusses the role played by medical costs, and the many workers that still cannot afford health care; the withering of unions, and the way that gig workers and independent contractors have replaced permanent employees; incarceration, and the debilitating effects it has, not only on the person sent away, but on their families for generations to come; the way that government assistance programs have been legally diverted to programs having nothing to do with the poor; the way that poor people are forced to pay more for the same goods and services that the better off pay. He discusses the ways that those living in poverty are cut off from political and economic opportunities. He does these things better than anyone else is doing them right now, and it makes me mad as hell, seeing millions of ruined lives all laid out so starkly.

It is when he approaches solutions that things become a little muddy. There are a few of his suggestions that I genuinely disagree with, but most of them are sound; the problem is that, despite his assurance that all of these changes can be made without much incursion into the lives of the wealthy and powerful, the chances of these people agreeing to implement such changes are somewhere between slim and none. He assures us that he is no Marxist (and that’s the truth, alas,) and that the rich can still have plenty; yet in reality, it’s clear to this reviewer that the kinds of changes that are needed are ones that working people will have to force from the tightly closed fists of the rich. This is where the fifth star falls off of my rating.

Nonetheless, Poverty by America is well worth your time and money, and I recommend it to you.