The Complete Guide to Food Allergies in Adults and Children by Scott H. Sicherer

★★★★

I've been managing my children's life-threatening food allergies for over 13 years, since my youngest was 18 months old. On the one hand, this book was extremely informative; there's a lot of misinformation out there, so it's good to have a reliable go-to source. On the other hand, there are things I wish the book included, but didn't.  

First, what I liked. The information was delivered very straightforwardly in question-and-answer format. The book was comprehensive, covering not just allergies but also other food-related conditions like intolerances and sensitivities. 

The section on oral food challenges (p. 83-90) and all of chapter 4 on anaphylaxis and epinephrine (p. 98-130) were especially instructive and helpful. In particular, I appreciated that the book was very clear about treating anaphylaxis with epinephrine as the first line of defense, and how other medications (e.g., antihistamines, bronchodilators, and corticosteroids) are supplemental interventions. (p. 118-120)

Chapter 6 on "Mastering Allergen Avoidance" (p. 159-203) was also excellent. I wish EVERYBODY - teachers, parents, family members, employers, all medical professionals - could read this chapter!! 

Importantly, when discussing oral immunotherapy (OIT), the book stated unambiguously that "the primary benefit is to increase the threshold of reactions" (p. 268) and "this is a treatment, not a cure." (p. 272) I was relieved to see this information so clearly presented because in my experience, it is very common for people to misunderstand OIT and believe it is a full-fledged cure.

Now, what I wish the book had included. Everything below is going to sound nit-picky, but if there's one thing managing allergies has taught me, it's the importance of being thorough!

For the most part, the Q-and-A format helped make the book approachable. Occasionally, though, I think it broke up a topic unnecessarily. A person skimming the book might read one answer and think it was complete, not realizing additional information is presented under another question. For example, this question and answer appeared on page 32: "If I am allergic to one nut, do I need to avoid all nuts? A person may be allergic to one or two or many nuts. Avoiding all nuts when there is an allergy to just one or two is a personal decision." Reading just this excerpt, a reader might think that the decision is a simple matter of personal preference. It's not until later on the same page that the nuances were described. A separate question asked: "What considerations are important in deciding whether to eat some types of nuts when there are allergies to other types?" The paragraph-long answer to this question pointed out, "Because nuts are often processed together it is difficult to find ones that are not at risk for cross-contact." So, it turns out, the decision involves a deeper understanding of nut manufacturing processes and also a personal risk assessment. Because of this tendency for details regarding a specific issue to be broken up among several questions, I wish some questions were grouped together, with a "main question" serving as a section header, and related questions listed underneath, maybe as bullet points. 

Along the same lines, I didn't understand why small pieces of information were separated out in the "Delving Deeper" section on pages 157-158. This section consisted of just 3 paragraphs, one each for addressing questions related to FPIES, eosinophilic esophagitis, and atopic dermatitis. Each topic had a whole section earlier in the same chapter, so why weren't these paragraphs just included in their respective sections?

I was disappointed that the brief section on allergic-like reactions to alcoholic beverages (p. 45-46) did not at all mention the "Asian flush", which was only alluded to in passing under an earlier question about alcohol intolerance. (p. 5) Asians having allergic-like reactions to alcohol is not a true allergy, but it is a well-known issue caused by a deficiency of the enzyme aldehyde dehydrogenase 2 (ALDH2), a condition similar to lactose intolerance, which was examined more closely. (p. 3-5)

Chapter 3, "All about Allergy Tests," was extensive, yet still managed to omit one of my most pressing questions: Can both the skin test and blood tests be positive even when there is no allergy? I actually found it odd that this question was not posed, since the opposite question was asked and answered: "Can both the skin test and blood tests be negative even when there is an allergy?" (p. 77)

I also wish the section on antihistamines (p. 116-119) was more thorough. On page 117, different types/brands were mentioned, e.g. diphenhydramine (Benadryl), cetirizine (Zyrtec), and fexofenadine (Allegra), but loratadine (Claritin) was noticeably absent; why? This section mostly discussed antihistamines as a group, but there's a whole bunch of questions regarding the different types/brands that I frequently see debated, and they were not addressed at all: What's the difference among these options? Does it matter which one you take? Why would a doctor prescribe one over another? Can a person build up tolerance to one type/brand, thereby requiring a switch to another type/brand? Is any particular type/brand recommended for acute allergic reactions vs. on-going maintenance of seasonal/environmental allergies? If one type/brand of antihistamine is routinely used daily for maintenance, will the same type/brand still be effective for an acute reaction? Is it better to use the same type/brand for an acute reaction, or a different type/brand? Is it possible to exceed an allowable daily dose limit if taking a specific type/brand of antihistamine for an acute reaction when the daily maintenance dose of the same medication has already been taken, and if so, is that okay?

On page 189, a question asked, "How does one know when a student is capable of carrying emergency medication?" I especially appreciated that a specific age was NOT given (it really depends on the child), but I was disappointed to see "self-carry" conflated with "self-administer", as the first item on the list said, "They express a desire to carry and self-administer epinephrine." But there are grown adults with a fear of needles who don't "desire" to self-administer! My children were responsible enough to self-carry (they knew EpiPens were not toys and were only to be taken out and used by a parent, teacher, or other supervising adult) years before they were confident or capable enough to self-administer. In fact, on the following page, the answer to a related question about self-treating says, "If your school allows your child to self-carry, be sure to emphasize that this situation does not mitigate the need for an adult to take full responsibility for administering the medication in the event of an emergency" (p. 190); so a child CAN self-carry even if they aren't expected to self-administer, and I wish that distinction was made clearer. Also, parents of newly diagnosed young children might appreciate a few suggestions - perhaps by being directed to "see chapter 11" (see next paragraph) - on HOW epinephrine autoinjectors can be self-carried (e.g., in a SPIbelt or small cross-body bag), as well as tips on how to keep the autoinjectors within the acceptable temperature range (e.g., use an insulated bag for extended time in excessively hot/cold conditions).

Chapter 11 "Accessing Help and Information to Manage Food Allergies" was surprisingly short. I excitedly flipped to this chapter early when the author advised, "Chocolate may be better purchased from specialty manufacturers that cater to people with food allergies (see the resources in chapter 11)" (p. 27), expecting to see a list of allergen-free chocolatiers. Alas, there was none; the singular reference to "Foods Allergen-free specialty manufacturers; local allergy-friendly restaurants and bakeries; cookbooks; recipes" (p. 291) was almost comically unhelpful. I understand why the author would want to avoid any appearance of supporting a for-profit company, but maybe just a little more direction in how to go about finding some of those resources might have been nice. For example, someone dealing with a new diagnosis might appreciate knowing that nut-free ice cream shops, multi-allergen-free bakeries, and nut butters free from cross-contamination by other tree nuts do exist.

Okay, that's it. I know the "what I wish the book said" list is longer than the "what I liked" list, but the book certainly did not have any misinformation, and in terms of volume of information and value added, it was definitely worth the read.

The Only One Club by Jane Naliboff

★★

I saw this book recommended as a way to help support covid-cautious kids who continue to wear masks in mask-optional settings, like school. Peer pressure is real, and being the only person in a classroom wearing a mask can be isolating and intimidating.

I really, really wanted to like this book. Growing up in the 1980s, I remember the discomfort and embarrassment of being the only Asian person in my class, the only kid who wore glasses, even the only student in my class who was a member of the Brownies! Young me absolutely would have benefited from the way this book takes being "the only one" of something and turns it on its head as something to be PROUD of. When the main character, Jennifer, realized she was the only Jewish kid in her class, she immediately delighted in being "the only one" and wanted to celebrate it. That premise is fantastic! I just wish the implementation could have been better.

Right off the bat, the book felt dated. Mrs. Matthews, the teacher, had the whole class making Christmas decorations. Back in the '80s, this type of classroom activity was commonplace. Maybe it was still happening here and there in 2004, when this book was first published. But definitely in 2022, when I read this book, a teacher presumably in a public school centering a Christian holiday in the classroom just didn't feel right.

I do love how Jennifer did not for a second feel embarrassed about being the only Jewish kid in her class. Being Jewish was something that could potentially put Jennifer on the receiving end of hateful words and deeds, and being the only one made her particularly vulnerable because she had no obvious or automatic allies. For her to take pride in something that could be used as fodder for taunts or other inappropriate behavior directed towards her is what made Jennifer's attitude and actions particularly brave, meaningful, and mature.

It was strange, then, when her classmates joined The Only One Club for things like: having a last name that is also the name of a bird, having a pet iguana, and being able to jump Double Dutch. These are not the type of differences that would normally cause chidren to feel like they don't belong, as being a different race or religion, or being the sole mask-wearer, would. Moreover, some of the reasons didn't even make sense! TWO twin girls joined by being "the only one(s?)" who were twins?! And then the teacher joined because she was "the only one" who wasn't already in the club, thereby negating her reason for joining as soon as she joined!

According to the illustrations, Jennifer's class was wonderfully culturally diverse. Alongside some of the superficial differences, it would have been easy to include more substantial differences, e.g., one kid could have been the only one who was Chinese, another could have been the only one who spoke Spanish, this kid could have been the only one with glasses, or a wheelchair, and that kid could have been the only one with asthma, or a food allergy.

Speaking of food allergies, the exchange between Jennifer and Jonah during lunch nearly gave me a conniption! With a "mouth full of peanut butter", "Jonah gave her a raspberry, spraying peanut butter all over the lunch table"!!!!! The illustration literally had food particles on a trajectory to land on Jennifer's food! What if Jennifer was allergic to peanuts!? What if the next kid to sit at that table was allergic!?

Anyway. This book might be a good option for its Hanukkah theme, but as a book about inclusion, I feel it doesn't quite get across the idea that inclusion needs to extend to attributes that may make individuals feel out of place because they are atypical compared to a widely accepted norm.

Just Ask! Be Different, Be Brave, Be You by Sonia Sotomayor

★★★½

This book is a good read-aloud to help encourage young kids to ask questions when they see differences in the people around them, which hopefully would take the place of whispers, gossip, teasing, or fear.

Each two-page spread of illustrations and text discusses a different medical condition or developmental disability. It is noteworthy that the book never uses the word "disability", and the dust jacket uses the phrase "differently abled". I suspect these word choices are somewhat controversial, since even in 2019, when this book was published, there already existed guidelines regarding language surrounding disabilities (copyright 2018 at the time of this writing) that advised against "differently abled".

Still, I applaud the book's existence. It's hard enough to talk about disabilities and identities among adults, so I appreciate that this book broaches the subject with kids, tries to normalize differences, and can serve as a springboard for further discussions.

The conditions covered are: diabetes, asthma, use of wheelchair, blindness, deafness, dyslexia, autism, stuttering, Tourette's syndrome, ADHD, food allergies, and Down syndrome.

As a parent of children with food allergies, I wish the food allergy page mentioned EpiPens as a just-in-case tool for people with life-threatening food allergies, since some kids may feel self-conscious about self-carrying their epinephrine autoinjectors.

Also, the autism page says "I have autism" and "Tiana also has autism", even though, again, in 2019 (when this book was published) the debate regarding preferred language (link to article published in 2015), e.g., "person with/has autism" vs. "autistic person", was already well under way. I think there are no easy answers, but maybe the book could have at least exposed readers to both options by using "I'm autistic" in one sentence and "Tiana also has autism" in the other.

Overall, not perfect, but serves a purpose.

Symptoms of Being Human by Jeff Garvin

★★★★

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

CW/TW: assault, sexual assault

For those who might appreciate a heads-up, this book does include the slurs "dyke" and "faggot" directed at the main character.

What Loveless did in terms of helping me to understand aromanticism and asexuality, this book did in regards to gender fluidity. I can't speak to how authentic the portrayal of gender dysphoria is, but I'd definitely recommend both these books for adults and parents who want to better understand these concepts.

Interestingly, the author purposely withheld the main character Riley's assigned gender at birth. Admittedly, I was curious at first, especially because I figured even Riley's new classmates could find the answer, since whether Congressman Cavanaugh had a son or a daughter would be public information. But the lack of disclosure really drove home the point that it doesn't matter. Riley is a person, end of story. The book is written in the first person, so we never even see Riley's preferred pronouns; for this review, I'll use "they".

Unlike any other book I've ever read, this book offers some valuable mental health representation. Riley has a therapist, uses techniques taught to them by their therapist to cope with stress and anxiety throughout the day, and takes antidepressant and anti-anxiety medication.

I liked that more than once, the book presented one point of view, and then later on presented an opposing point of view. These differing perspectives showed how complex gender issues can be. For example, we know, of course, that Riley is frustrated when others try to put them into a "girl" box or "boy" box. Yet, when Riley starts at a new school, every new person they meet is identified as a "girl" or "boy". It seemed kind of hypocritical! Eventually, Riley acknowledges their own tendency to put people into gender boxes, and they even feel a sense of shame for having misjudged other people's gender identity. (p. 154)

I also really appreciated that the bullies in this book are not entirely one-dimensional. We don't get to know their motivations explicitly, but it's made clear that they aren't just evil, they have complex home lives, too, and other contributing factors that influence their thinking and behavior.

As much as I got out of this book, I can't help but feel it was lacking in two specific ways. When I think about gender identity, the first two things that come to mind are bathrooms and pronouns. Yet, this book did not address either of these issues. It just seemed to me that figuring out which bathroom to use, and thinking about how certain pronouns make them feel, would be a significant part of Riley's experience as a gender fluid person, and I wonder if not discussing these matters was a missed opportunity.

The ending was satisfying, yet it also felt like there were too many loose ends. Solo said the entire football team had Riley's back, but how did that come to be, when they had always deferred to Vickers as their leader? What kind of consequences do Vickers and Sierra have to face, and how are they viewed by their peers if/when their actions become public knowledge? What happens with Erik and his hopes of joining the football team?

Finally, there was one minor detail that just didn't sit right with me. At one point, while spiraling out of control, Riley destroyed someone else's belongings, and didn't apologize. (p. 290) I get that Riley was destructive in a kind of unconscious or subconscious way - they're not willfully causing damage with any specific purpose - and we know that they've damaged their own property before, too. But taking anger out on someone else's things feels like it crosses a very specific boundary. The items weren't important, and in the same scene, Riley did apologize for saying hurtful things and the friendship is intact, but I would have liked to see an apology for their actions, as well as their words.

Jane Austen Roundup

I have now read every Jane Austen novel and watched every Jane Austen screen adaptation I could find!

Here's a list of her books in order of my preference, and under each book, a list of all the screen adaptations I watched, in order of my preference. The links take you to my "reviews" - and I put that in quotes because I know I didn't actually review each movie/mini-series entirely on its own merits; how well it represented the book was a large factor in how much I liked it.

1. Pride and Prejudice ★★★★★
   
   1. 1995 BBC Mini-Series with Colin Firth ★★★★★
      
   2. 1980 BBC Mini-Series ★★★★½
      
   3. 1940 Film with Laurence Olivier ★★★★
      
   4. 2005 Film with Keira Knightley ★★★
      
   
   
2. Emma ★★★★★
   
   1. 1996 TV Movie with Kate Beckinsale ★★★★★
      
   2. 1996 Film with Gwenyth Paltrow ★★★★
      
   3. 2009 BBC Mini-Series ★★★½
      
   4. 1972 BBC Mini-Series ★★★½
      
   
   
3. Mansfield Park ★★★★½
   
   1. 1983 BBC Mini-Series ★★★★
      
   2. 2007 TV Movie ★★★
      
   3. 1999 Film ★★★
      
   
   
4. Sense & Sensibility ★★★★
   
   1. 1995 Film with Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet ★★★★★
      
   2. 1981 BBC Mini-Series ★★★★
      
   3. 2008 BBC Mini-Series ★★★
      
   4. 1971 BBC Mini-Series ★★★
      
   
   
5. Northanger Abbey ★★★★
   
   1. 2007 TV Movie ★★★★
      
   2. 1987 TV Movie ★★½
   
   
6. Persuasion ★★★★
   
   1. 1971 BBC Mini-Series ★★★★★
      
   2. 1995 TV Movie ★★★★
      
   3. 2007 TV Movie ★★★
      
   4. 2022 Netflix Movie with Dakota Johnson ★★★
      

The book Emma was a very close second behind Pride and Prejudice. I found Emma overall more entertaining, but Pride and Prejudice did have more wit, though less humor. And the fact that Emma was a bit of a snob - a charming and endearing snob, but a snob nonetheless - was a little off-putting sometimes.

I also really enjoyed Mansfield Park, and I don't know if it's really fair to dock it half a star just because it wasn't quite as entertaining. I thought its characters were the most complex of all Jane Austen novels.

And even though Persuasion is listed last, and given the place of "least favored Jane Austen novel", that's not to say that I didn't enjoy it. It is, after all, still rated four stars!

Persuasion (2022 Netflix Movie)

★★★

It's been a long time since I've read the book, so I can't remember many of the details anymore. I am pretty sure that scenes and dialogue were added to help move things along, which I know is not unreasonable, since condensing the book into one two-hour movie is a tall order.

The race-blind casting was fun and in line with modern race-conscious sensibilities. The Anne character broke the 4th wall to address the audience directly, a method of explaining things that I really didn't mind. But the dialogue itself being modernized felt weird, and the entire movie had a playful mood that did not match what I remember of the book, which I think of as having more gravitas (except, perhaps, for sister Mary's antics).

I think Dakota Johnson acted well, but she was too pretty to be the Anne of the book, who is supposed to be not very physically attractive. Also, I did not find Wentworth well-cast. Finally, the swoon-worthy love letter near the end is the highlight of this book for me, but the most meaningful lines were read aloud in Anne's voice, and I really wish they were read in Wentworth's.

This movie was entertaining, but mostly it made me want to re-read the book, so I can better judge its faithfulness to the original material.

Loveless by Alice Oseman

★★★★

A truly important - and funny! - book that goes a long way in normalizing the exploration and discussion of sexuality. There is plenty of drama to move the story along, but really the primary plot is Georgia coming to terms with being aromantic and asexual.

In the beginning, I was put off by how Georgia, an 18-year-old student starting university, centered sex and romance, believing that everybody is supposed to have a romantic partner. She saw herself as the weird one for not having kissed anyone yet, let alone not having had sex. But as it turned out, one of the key points of the book was Georgia realizing that there are no rules about how you "should" behave or what you "ought" to do when it comes to relationships. You do what feels right to you, as long as you're not hurting anyone. You do you. A very healthy, empowering message.

Perhaps this message was best summed up by Georgia's roommate, when she said to Georgia, "I think it's pretty amazing that you haven't felt peer-pressured into doing anything [sexually] by now. You haven't made yourself do anything you didn't want to do. You haven't kissed anyone just because you're scared of missing out. I think that's one of the most mature things I've ever heard, actually." (p. 118)

There's also a meaningful point about friendships, how they can be just as valuable as romances. I really enjoyed Georgia's friendships, both the comfort and familiarity she shared with her old friends and the exciting novelty of getting to know her new friends.

This book is very modern, with lots of teenage slang, including very casual use of the f-word. I even had to Google some of the lingo, e.g., apparently "AU" means "alternative universe" in fan fiction.

More notably, though, potential readers might appreciate a heads up in knowing that this book is very frank and open about sex, sexuality, masturbation, attraction, social norms, and identity. ("Hand jobs" and "getting fingered" are explicitly mentioned.) The book lays bare a few variations of difficult and awkward conversations, which is actually great, in a way, because if you have similar questions yourself, you can just read this book and spare yourself those conversations in real life!

On a lighter note, it was fun reading a book that was set in the UK. Georgia didn't go to college, she went to "uni", which apparently is usually a 3-year endeavor, not 4 like in the U.S, and typically does not require sharing your dorm room with a roommate. Georgia and her friends drank a lot, but since the drinking age is 18 in the UK, presumably it was all legal. At times it felt like Georgia's uni experience revolved a bit too much around drinking culture, but I admit it was realistic, so it's probably a good thing for teenage readers to be exposed to that kind of party lifestyle safely in a book, giving them a chance to think about how they might handle certain situations.

The only other thing I wanted to mention is that I found the part about Georgia explaining aro-ace identity to her cousin a bit convenient plot-wise, like, just as soon as Georgia figured it out herself, she's in a position to support someone else in the exact same struggle? But I admit it was a useful scene because it showed how older people, who didn't grow up with the open-mindedness and terminology of today, might be moving through life, doing the best they can, without having the wherewithal to fully understand their own identity. 

Overall, a good read for mature teenagers - and their parents! - to better understand the range of sexual identities out there. It also provides a lot of good modeling on how to talk about such matters.

Rise: A Pop History of Asian America from the Nineties to Now by Jeff Yang, Phil Yu, and Philip Wang

★★★★★

As fun as it is informative!

This book is about the rise of Asian America, a self-defined community (separate from the idea of "Asians in America") that broke through stereotypes and bamboo ceilings. The growth of Asian America's visibility was spurred by the coming of age of kids born to a wave of Asian immigrants who first arrived in the U.S. when exclusionary immigration laws were lifted in the late 1960s. 

I am one of those kids! This book, more than any other, resonated with me in an unprecedented way. It absolutely made me feel seen. Everything, literally everything, down to the list of songs in "Original Synth: The Anthems of Young Asian America" (p. 26-27) rang true for me. In "Finding Our Religion" (p. 279), I actually burst out laughing at #27: "People singing hymns in an Asian language and English at the same time, creating cacophony" (p. 281) - a hilarious truth I witnessed in my youth and had totally forgotten.

Rise is a collection of essays, illustrations, graphic novel content, photos, timelines, lists, infographics, quotes, commentary - all of it raising up Asian American people, culture, accomplishments, and issues. The three authors - whose work I've followed online for years! - wrote most of the content, but plenty of other prominent Asian Americans have bylines or were interviewed. (If you aren't familiar with a particular contributor, there's a handy list with biographical blurbs at the back of the book.) It's very much a coffee table book - printed on heavy,  photo quality paper with content organized in colorful, eye-catching, easy-to-digest chunks - but I read it from start to finish, cover-to-cover, every word, every caption. I just could not get enough of it.

The vast majority of the book upliftingly covers "the good", e.g., Asian American representation in entertainment, sports, arts, politics, etc. Sufficient space is also given to "the bad", e.g., yellowface and cultural appropriation, and "the ugly", e.g., controversial topics like tiger parenting.

Though the book's subtitle focuses attention on the 1990s and later, there's actually a very enlightening "Before" section that presents a brief but thorough overview of Asian American history through the 1980s. I was in high school and college during the 1990s, so that section felt personally nostalgic for me. And with much of the 2010s still fresh in my mind, I really enjoyed getting a behind-the-scenes look at Fresh Off the Boat, Crazy Rich Asians, Linsanity, and #StarringJohnCho.

Portrait of a Thief by Grace D. Li

★★★★

In a somewhat improbable premise, five college-aged Chinese Americans agree to commit a series of art heists.

For about the first third of the book, it felt like the heist was contrived to simply be the means by which these characters would come together. The pacing was slow and deliberate, each character engaging in much introspection and self-analysis as they looked to justify their decision to join the crew. As children of immigrants, each with their own unique experiences, they examined their familial relationships and self-identities, tried to understand their place in the Chinese diaspora and make sense of their uncertain futures. The weight of immigrant dreams and unresolved sense of self hung over almost every conversation, action, and interaction.

When the first heist finally started to come together, a healthy dose of suspended disbelief was necessary. Here we had a young adult crew, all somewhere on the stereotypical Asian child-of-immigrants predetermined path to success (e.g., elite school, pre-med or engineering, etc.), with little to no relevant criminal experience (except what one happened to conveniently pick up as the son of the FBI expert on Chinese art theft), planning a heist in 4 weeks while also holding down their full-time studies or job. The main characters being on the precipice of change positioned them well for so much self-reflection, but maybe the story would have been a little more believable if they were all just a bit older.

Still, seeing the first heist come together was a satisfying development. The pace picked up, though the book never quite became a page-turner for me. About halfway through, an unexpected twist finally hooked me and got me wondering how things would end.

I found it difficult to become fully immersed in the book because I was constantly distracted by the author's writing style. The prose leaned into the art theme, was excessively descriptive and poetic with careful attention being paid to the way light or darkness fell into a room, or on someone's face, or over a city, with colors of gold and red or gray. The author relied heavily on this: a set-up employing the word "this", followed by a colon, followed by some kind of revelatory statement.

Yet, I gave this book 4 stars. It resonated with me in a very personal way that does not often happen. I enjoyed the main characters and their changing relationships; each of them felt like someone I could have known in college, and in them I recognized pieces of myself and my Chinese American community growing up. And it wasn't just the complicated identity stuff that I found relatable, but also the casual references to boba and dumplings. Also, Chinese characters were dropped in-line with English text, not just the pinyin romanization but actual Chinese characters! The representation just felt amazing.

We Were Dreamers: An Immigrant Superhero Origin Story by Simu Liu

★★★★★

A beautiful memoir.

Simu Liu names his parents' treatment of him as abuse (p. 123), and he spent much of his teenage and young adult years being an attention-seeking tryhard. But, oh, he was genuine. He just so earnestly wanted to feel accepted. His path to self-discovery and reconciliation with his parents was nothing short of remarkable. He writes engagingly and comes across as embodying both a bold self-confidence that fuels his pursuit of acting dreams and a realistic sense of humility that ensures he fully appreciates his successes.

Right off the bat, in the prologue, I knew this book would not let me down. Being a superhero in a Marvel movie could not be farther from my own experiences, but Simu Liu's account of his parents' reaction to his landing the role of Shang-Chi resonated with me. I am also a child of Chinese immigrants, and while Simu's family history is vastly different from mine, the culture was familiar, his personal story reminiscent of the many stories within my own community growing up. Yes, representation really does matter, and I especially appreciated his discussion towards the end of the book about how Asian Americans in the entertainment industry rallied around him and helped him to lean into his Asianness.

I think this book would be a great read for teens who may feel lost, oppressed by their parents, or who otherwise feel a sense of not being worthy. Simu Liu is obviously an exception case in that he has a rare gift for performance - not everyone can grow up to be a superhero, after all - but still, this book shows how meaningful it is to feel seen, how important it is to be true to yourself, and that there is always hope for a better existence, for a healthier relationship with your parents.

All that said, I have to say, I found it fascinating how, early in the book, Simu Liu took pains to not make any political commentary, presumably to avoid any repercussions from the long arm of the Chinese government. He makes it clear that his family in China was "unencumbered by any political aspirations whatsoever." (p. 9) I found it jaw-dropping how he matter-of-factly wrote about the Cultural Revolution with absolutely no judgment, for example, when he described how his paternal grandfather lived in a "self-imposed house arrest" to hide from the "Red Guard, a militia of radicalized Chinese youth that harassed, beat, and sometimes killed [intellectuals] in the name of the revolution." (p. 23). I mean, what?! When his father was a child, the Chinese government "required millions of Chinese families to send their children away from home to work in mountainous areas or farming villages to learn the value of hard labor... [and his father's sister], at age fifteen, volunteered to be the one to leave." (p. 24) Seriously, WHAT?!? He even used the euphemism "cadre school" (p. 36) to describe the labor camp to which his maternal grandfather was sent. If any reader is unfamiliar with Communist China's Cultural Revolution, Red Guard, and labor camps, this book provides a shockingly inadequate introduction. I have to assume the downplayed content was an explicit decision to avoid conflict with China, since Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings is controversial in China, and Simu Liu has already gotten into hot water for some past comments.

Troublemaker by John Cho with Sarah Suk

★★★★★

It wasn't intentional, but my library just happened to fill my hold request so that I read this book over April 29, the 30th anniversary of the LA riots.

The 1992 riots in Los Angeles serve as the backdrop for this story, which unfolds at the intersection of immigration, child-of-immigrant identity, racial injustice, and gun violence. On top of all that, the main character Jordan is trying to navigate strained relationships with both his father and his friend. Jordan's life is complicated, as many children's lives are. In that way, it reminded me of the book Blended, which also has themes of race and gun violence, and also openly addresses the many issues children face in real life. I appreciate these books for providing a framework for kids to process complex issues in age-appropriate ways.

I'm not Korean, but I'm an American-born child of Asian immigrants, and the Park family dynamics were familiar; the portrayal of Korean American experiences felt authentic.

Some parents might like to know that though the title may allude to John Lewis's quote about getting into "good trouble", there is quite a lot of actual "troublemaking" in this book, from cheating in school to stealing from family to hitchhiking with strangers! Every such action is presented with clear disapproval, and it's obvious that the decisions to engage in these activities were poor and reckless. I think the right vs. wrong morality is evident, so kids aren't likely to want to emulate Jordan and Mike. In fact, I actually think it's solid representation to show that yes, sometimes kids make bad decisions. Sometimes those decision come from a place of weakness or curiosity, sometimes they come from a place of desperation or wanting to do good, but no matter the motivation, bad decisions do not make for a "bad kid", and I think that's an important message for all kids to understand.

While Jordan is trying to unpack a lot of big and meaningful questions, the events of the book actually take him on an exciting adventure, making for an engaging and entertaining read even if you're not particularly interested in the social justice issues.

There is no Korean glossary, but there is an Author's Note at the back of the book. I think I might even recommend reading that first, to help frame and set the context for the book.

The Turtle of Oman Roundup

In Oman, an 8-year-old boy named Aref and his grandfather have a very close relationship. Aref is sad and anxious about having to move to a new country, but quickly adapts and thrives in his new home and school.

• The Turtle of Oman (#1) ★★★½
• The Turtle of Michigan (#2) ★★★★★

The Turtle of Michigan by Naomi Shihab Nye

★★★★★

Having read The Turtle of Oman, I set my expectations accordingly for this book, and I think that helped me to better appreciate it. I really loved it. Some might call the writing "slow", but I'd describe it as gentle, steady, and deliberate, with poetic interludes. Occasionally, the narration transitioned between third and second person. I really enjoyed the way the writing channelled the perspective and narrative voice of a child.

Aref is 8 years old. He's inquisitive, friendly, and not shy, a good model for young readers, particularly those who may feel nervous about moving to some place new. It's very clear how Aref benefited from a very diverse neighborhood and school, both in his old home of Muscat, Oman and in his new home of Ann Arbor, Michigan. Such diversity may not be the reality in many places, which means this book could serve as a good "window" for young readers who have less personal experience with different cultures.

It's been a while since I read The Turtle of Oman, so I can't remember for sure, but I think this book picks up right where that book left off. From the very beginning, we see Aref discovering a powerful truth: oftentimes, the anticipation of something is more anxiety-producing than actually experiencing the thing itself. The Turtle of Oman was about Aref feeling sad and scared about moving to America, but once he boarded the plane, he felt relief and excitement and was open to adventure.

Aref and his family are Arabs from Oman. There are occasional references to the Arabic language and Omani culture, which set the background and help to describe the main characters, but they are not central plot points. Oman is predominantly Muslim, but it's not clear if Aref's family is Muslim. There is a chapter about learning to celebrate Christmas in America, and other cultural and religious holidays are mentioned, but Aref's family's usual holidays are never identified. It seems like the author made a very conscious decision to not mention religion at all, since it wasn't even touched upon in the Christmas chapter.

Fight: How Gen Z is Channeling Their Fear and Passion to Save America by John Della Volpe

★★★★

I'm a liberal Gen Xer and a political news junkie. The state of local and national politics frequently gets me feeling hopeless and beat down, but I'm wary of putting too much pressure on Gen Z to "save us all" because 1) that's too much of a burden to place on anyone and 2) why shouldn't we expect Gen Zers to lose engagement, or drift to the political center as they age?

The author first lays the foundation so we can understand Generation Z in the context of the generations that came before them. "As children, the world for baby boomers and many Gen Xers often began and ended on their block; for Gen Z, there is no limit, and with this brings an unparalleled understanding of humanity and empathy." (p. 32) The author argues that Gen Z will not "abandon progressive values for conservatism as they age" (pg. 12) because "we have raised Zoomers to be an uncommonly empathetic generation." (p. 13) 

The author believes that Gen Z's compassion for their fellow human beings, as well as their fears that arise from the current state of the world (e.g., school shootings, police brutality, college debt, climate change, etc.), naturally lead to having progressive values that prioritize human rights, the climate crisis, gun safety, income inequality, etc. It's those progressive policies that will help "save America". To illustrate Gen Z's preference for progressive ideals and their record-level political engagement, the author presents all kinds of polling data as well as quotes from actual Gen Zers he has interviewed. He shines a spotlight on Gen Z activists like the Parkland school shooting survivors and Greta Thunberg, among others. 

Interestingly, Gen Z white nationalists and insurrectionists are also featured, showing that the world is truly engaged in a battle to win the hearts and minds of young people, and a more progressive future is not guaranteed.

The messages and lessons of this book feel urgent. Recent political events are analyzed through a Gen Z lens, and it's clear we need to pay attention to Gen Z RIGHT NOW if we want to leverage the power of their numbers and passion for progressive change. 

Though the book's topic of an entire generation having to fight to save America is inherently depressing, the foreword by David Hogg, a Gen Z activist and school shooting survivor from Parkland, sets a positive and optimistic tone for the book, which ultimately left me with a solid sense of hope.

My only disappointment was the lack of attention on Asian Americans. Asian Americans were included in some of the data (p. 21), but not others (p. 47). Also, there was no mention of the Stop Asian Hate movement in the section about hate crimes increasing under Trump's presidency. (p. 81) To give him the benefit of the doubt, it's possible that the author didn't purposely exclude Asian Americans so much as he couldn't write about an issue that was unfolding in real time while he was actively writing the book, presumably in 2020 and 2021. He discussed the 2020 elections in great detail - as a political pollster, he would have been processing the election data as it was collected - but maybe he didn't have pandemic-related data at his fingertips; much of the anti-Asian violence grew out of the covid-19 pandemic, of which the author mostly made only passing mentions, admitting early on that it was "a global pandemic...with a yet-undetermined impact." (p. 17)  

Go Back to Where You Came From: And Other Helpful Recommendations on How to Become American by Wajahat Ali

★★★★★

Immigrant and child-of-immigrant memoirs are quickly becoming one of my favorite genres.

I started following Wajahat Ali on Twitter based on his posts about his daughter's medical situation, Legos, and Star Wars. I didn't even know he was a politics and race commentator until later.

Right off the bat, this book opened with the author's irreverent responses to hate mail he's received. I imagine this introduction might be an eye-opener for white readers who never realized the kind of abuse commonly faced by people of color in the public eye.

In the beginning, it felt like the author was channeling a comedian. The humor in his writing struck me as similar to Dave Barry's, even when he hit on heavy topics like racism and mental health. While entertaining, the humor also felt like it was being wielded as a shield, like, "I have to make a joke now, because if I don't laugh, I might just break down and cry." As the book progressed, the author shared the lows, and even lower lows, of his life, and the writing carried more gravitas. Gradually, by the end, the writing felt sincerely earnest.

Being a memoir, this book is very approachable and easy to read, which actually makes it a good Trojan horse for its sharp discussions of race. Ali's personal narrative is interspersed with lots of social commentary and edifying tidbits about Muslims in history and culture. At times, the content felt more like a collection of essays than a straight chronological narrative. Unlike other immigrant memoirs I've read, Ali's story was atypical in that it took many unexpected turns involving near-death experiences and the criminal justice system.

I enjoyed Ali's writing style, which was full of pithy truths like, "[Accents were a] telltale sign that, despite all their successes, their investment and time spent in this country, they were still foreigners and immigrants, a punching bag and a punchline," (p. 40) and, "The playground is where you first learn your rank in the American hierarchy [of race]." (p. 42)

One thing (of many) that I found remarkable about Ali's life was just how much he was supported by the elders in his community. In America, I think much of the spotlight is on peer relationships, and not enough credit is given to how valuable our aunties and uncles and those in our grandparents' generation can be in our lives.

I appreciated the book ending on a very hopeful note, with Ali quoting the Prophet Muhammad: "If the Hour [the day of Resurrection] is about to be established and one of you was holding a palm shoot, let him take advantage of even one second before the Hour is established to plant it." (p. 221)

I also liked that non-English words were translated in-line, so there was no need to flip back and forth to a glossary at the back of the book.

Now, I've got to see if I can get my hands on a copy of Wajahat Ali's play, The Domestic Crusaders...

State of Terror by Hillary Rodham Clinton and Louise Penny

★★★½

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

Even though I recently read Stacey Abrams's While Justice Sleeps, I still don't consider political thrillers a genre I generally read. Again, being interested in real-life politics, I picked up this book because of my fondness for the author, Hillary Clinton.

State of Terror was a comfortable, fast-paced read. The story crossed many international borders and had a vast cast of characters, but I had no trouble following the plot, which is noteworthy because I am easily confused. I liked the easy-to-follow, natural flow of the book; the narrative jumped from location to location, but followed a chronological timeline. In fact, with events unfolding so quickly, it felt like it could be the plot for a season of the TV show 24! 

I enjoyed the light-hearted humor sprinkled throughout, and appreciated the thinly veiled portrayals of Trump and Putin.

I know this is a personal preference, but I was not fond of the writing style that employed clauses instead of full sentences. I know the structure adds emphasis to each statement, but it just felt choppy to me. For example: "She stared, paralyzed. Wishing Amir were there. Not to tell her what to do, but to slip his hand in hers. So she wouldn't be alone." (p. 38-39) I don't know if that kind of writing is characteristic of Louise Penny, since I haven't read any of her other books.

Since Hillary Clinton was actually Secretary of State, I took for granted that everything in the book was within the realm of possibility, no matter how incredible. Occasionally, it was smaller plot devices that felt unbelievable. For example, it seemed very unlikely that Anahita, a trained employee in the State Department, would not know that Gil, the famous journalist who was kidnapped by terrorists, was the Secretary of State's son. Also, Katherine and Charles taking the trip to visit far-away caves felt contrived.

One word of advice: Don't read the acknowledgements until after you finish the book. More than once, I have missed out on useful glossaries or "Notes on the Text" type appendices because I didn't know they were there until it was too late. Now, I make a habit of flipping to the back of books first, to see what's there. In this case, both authors provided heartwarming insights into their friendship and the inspiration for some of the characters, but there's also at least one piece of information that made me predict something that I might not have guessed if I hadn't already read the acknowledgements! 

Finally, I think I found an editing error. On page 422, a conversation reveals that the date is "the tenth of March... Today." But just a few pages earlier, on page 411, the chapter's opening line said, "It was ten past nine on a late Fabruary [sic] morning..." Beyond the misspelling, the conflicting dates must have been a mistake.

The Giver Roundup

A seemingly post-apocalyptic, supernatural world with extremely different isolated communities. Main characters eventually connect with each other, but the communities remain separate.

• The Giver (#1) ★★★
• Gathering Blue (#2) ★★★
• Messenger (#3) ★★★½
• Son (#4) ★★★★

Son (The Giver #4) by Lois Lowry

★★★★

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

This story is divided into three sections. Book I, in which we go back to the events of The Giver and see the timeline from Claire's perspective, made for a slow start for me. Since I knew what would happen, I was anxious to move forward and get to the events after Jonas took Gabe from the community. 

I found Book II much more engaging. I appreciated the author's creativity in inventing yet another isolated community, unique in its own way. I also enjoyed the way Clair discovered mundane things and found them enchanting because she had never known them before. Still no answers were given, however, regarding how this world came to be, and I was left wondering why Claire's original home was so technologically advanced while all other communities were so primitive.

Book II as a whole made me think of how it is that our lives are made out of distinct phases that come and go. We are who we are because of the experiences we've had and the people we meet - this is where Claire witnessed how loving parents treat their children, and where she learned about romantic love - and sometimes, though there may be nothing wrong with where we are, we still need to move forward. 

The entire series came to a satisfying conclusion in Book III, and I was pleased to see some of my questions from Messenger answered. It was gratifying to finally understand Trademaster, who in this book was more clearly the Devil, at times even being described like a snake. (p. 264) I was especially happy to at last read the scene, in which Claire confides in Jonas, that I had been waiting the whole book to read. (p. 311)

In the end, there seemed to be a message of how, if you put good intentions out into the world, that good is reflected and given back to you. Just as evil feeds off of hate, goodness is made stronger by love.

This being the last book of the series, I knew the world had a supernatural component. But as with The Giver, a large chunk of the book passed without any reference to any magical powers or beings, and I was lulled into thinking of Claire's world as merely characterized by the communities in which she lived. The sudden appearance, more than halfway through the book, of something supernatural felt jarring.

As much as I enjoyed Claire's story, there were two things that irked me.

First, I wish the author had included a scene showing Claire and Alys saying goodbye. I had eagerly anticipated this scene, feeling sure it would be emotional and meaningful, and was surprised and disappointed when I realized it was omitted. Here Claire was the daughter Alys had never had, and Alys was the loving mother Claire had never had, surely their parting was significant.

Second, why wouldn't Claire - upon finding Gabe in the village and realizing that Jonas was there, too - go to Jonas, tell him her whole story, and figure out a plan for meeting Gabe earlier?! I can't understand how she waited SEVEN YEARS, until she was practically on her death bed, to make a move. It pained me to think of all those years lost and wasted.

One final note from a parental perspective. Though I categorized the first 3 books of this series as children's books, this one I think borders on young adult, mainly because of one line in which Einar described the abuses he suffered from his father and implied sexual assault. (p. 207) Still, younger readers might just gloss over the oblique reference and not even realize they've missed anything. 

Messenger (The Giver #3) by Lois Lowry

★★★½

*** Warning: This review contains spoilers!! ***

It's been a while since I read the first couple books, but I remember being thrown off by the supernaturalism in The Giver, because it wasn't evident at first, and I don't even remember any supernaturalism in Gathering Blue. The fantastical aspects of this world are clear early on in Messenger, with Forest actively attacking people and Matty discovering his paranormal ability. 

The story of Village presents a heartwarming, meaningful message. Village thrived on selflessness - everyone welcoming newcomers and caring for one another - and it suffered when Trademaster introduced selfishness into their community. 

Reading the book in 2022, there's an apparent parallel with contemporary issues of immigration and borders. Village is an example of how communities can benefit from diversity and compassion. Published in 2004, the book seemed to foreshadow Trump's obsession with building a wall.

I really enjoyed Matty's character, and was happy to read more about him since I liked him so much in Gathering Blue. I think the presumed post-apocalyptic world with disparate communities was intriguing, and I loved the beauty of the ending. Unfortunately, I just found myself too distracted by all the many unanswered questions. 

For example, who exactly is Trademaster? Where did he come from, and what is his story? Why does he make all these deals that are detrimental to the people making them? What does he get out of them? Is he supposed to be the Devil, making deals with people so that their truest selves are sacrificed for some temporary, worldly gain? 

At the end of the book, we learn that Forest is "an illusion...a tangled knot of fears and deceits and dark struggles for power" (p. 168), but why did it suddenly turn so evil? Was Forest somehow connected to Trademaster? And did Matty's powers work on Trademaster, too? Because if not, why wouldn't Trademaster simply resume his trading, causing the same trouble all over again, and with no Matty there to save them next time?

I tried to do the math, and Jonas, now called Leader, must be in his early 20s. I understand that he's got this special gift, but it still seems remarkable that Village would elect him as Leader at such a young age. And who was the leader before Jonas arrived? Jonas arrived with Gabriel, but we learn nothing more about him, getting only one passing mention of a boy named Gabe, who we can just assume must be Gabriel. (p. 17) Jonas tells Matty that his old community was "rebuilding themselves into something better" (p. 29), but how!? How did the Giver manage all the changes, and what became of the Committee of Elders? Later on, we see that Kira's village was also changed, but again the story of how is missing. What happened with Jamison and the Council of Guardians?

Interestingly, I found an editing error in my edition. In chapter 17, the book says that "Ramon had described poor Stocktender, who had been entangled by Forest". (p. 149) But back in chapter 2, it says Stocktender had died earlier, had not been entangled, and it was Gatherer who had been entangled to death by Forest. (p. 14)

Fantasyland: How America Went Haywire: A 500-Year History

★★★½

More than any other book or article I've read, this book explains just how America came to elect Donald Trump. He is the living embodiment of the idea that "if you're fanatical enough about enacting and enforcing your fiction, it becomes indistinguishable from nonfiction." (p. 30)

At first, I wasn't sure if I should read this book because I was afraid it might solidify my despair at how rampant belief in disinformation is in America right now, particularly within the Republican party. Towards the end of the book, the author explicitly addresses how Republicans have adopted fantasy as their party platform: "[R]ealist Republican leaders effectively encouraged and exploited the predispositions of their fantastical partisans... They were rational people who understood that a large fraction of Americans don't bother with rationality when they vote... Keeping those people angry and scared won them elections." (p. 367)

As it turns out, irrational thinking is part and parcel of the American experience. Conspiracy theories and populism didn't start with Donald Trump, and this book shows how all of American history was priming America for the rise of someone like Trump. In a way, it was surprisingly reassuring to know that American history is fraught with preposterousness; the current situation is not really new, which implies that we can weather it like America has weathered all the other absurdities in its past. 

According to this book, we have a culture of relativism here in America. It's not about what is factually true, but what each person believes to be true. Some people decided that America's freedom-loving hyper-individualism extends to facts and truth, giving them permission to believe whatever they want in the name of "personal freedom", even when there is no rational support for that belief. 

America is exceptional in that Americans have a unique penchant for believing in outrageous fantasies. Americans are particular in their "common determination to believe the unbelievable, live enchanted lives, be characters in their own adventure stories, make their fantasies real." (p. 84) 

This book is an irreverent romp through history. The author points out every crazy grift and supernatural or pseudo-scientific claim Americans and their forefathers have bought into, including but not limited to: witchcraft, homeopathy, phrenology, new religions, creationism, get-rich-quick schemes, unsubstantiated conspiracy theories, miracle cures and their snake-oil salesmen. In modern times, we are still suckers for all kinds of fantasy and dubious beliefs, from Disneyland to the fear GMO foods. Readers may feel sheepish when they realize that they, too, are consumers of the fantasy-industrial complex, which invites us to live in our dreams and forget reality for a while. The author himself occasionally admits to buying into some American fantasy or another, but for the most part, his tone is something like playful mocking.  

Apparently, most Americans are delusional in some way or another, so anyone reading this book will likely be offended at some point, when the thing they believe in is ridiculed in turn. In particular, the author spends a great deal of time taking down Protestant religions, so if you're a Christian, be forewarned: the author describes Christianity as a set of "magical rules" within a "fantasy scheme" (p. 17) and devotes an entire chapter to Mormonism, calling the Book of Mormon "a monumental and pioneering work of fan fiction." (p. 70) Personally, I never understood how Christian fundamentalism could exist in a rational world until the author quoted an early 20th century publication that explained its origin this way: "Fundamentalism is a protest against that rationalistic interpretation of Christianity which seeks to discredit supernaturalism... Christianity is rooted and grounded in supernaturalism, and when robbed of supernaturalism it ceases to be a religion and becomes an exalted system of ethics." (p. 125)

If the emphasis on religion seems unfair, I think the overlap between Trump supporters and white church-goers, and between QAnon conspiracists and white evangelicals, goes to show that it's worth exploring how religion has played a role in shaping our American consciousness of credulity.

Reading this book in 2021-2022, I was struck by the relevance of the author's use of a quote by Mark Twain: "History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme." (p. 82) We are at this moment seeing a resurgence of efforts to ban books and the teaching of racism in schools, and the words of the Scopes Monkey Trial defense lawyer are still fitting: "We have the purpose of preventing bigots and ignoramuses from controlling the education of the United States." (p. 129) 

I also appreciated the author's use of a quote by Thomas Jefferson: What's it to me if other people are wacky, if "it neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg"? (p. 321) Again, reading this book after the 1/6/21 insurrection and during the COVID-19 pandemic, it is blatantly obvious to me how someone else's baseless beliefs can affect me and others directly. Trump supporters believing in The Big Lie (that Biden did not legitimately win the presidency) resulted in actual lives lost at the Capitol building and has put the entire American system of democracy in jeopardy. Incidentally, the emergence of an anti-government armed insurgency should not surprise us, either; in chapter 43, in a discussion of the proliferation of armed military simulation (MilSim) organizations, the author surmised, "Surely some of the American MilSim gamers have understood their games to be training for a fantasy that they don't consider a fantasy - the secession and patriot insurgency and civil war that may arise after the tyrants in Washington, D.C., finally give the order to confiscate their guns." (p. 400)

It is clear now, too, how the anti-vaccination population "picks my pocket and breaks my legs". Even before the pandemic it was known that "almost a third of Americans believe that 'vaccinations can cause autism' and that schools shouldn't require children to get them" (p. 379- 380), so anti-vaxxers foiling America's vaccination-centered pandemic response was completely predictable. Furthermore, the author points out that "when their illnesses deposit them in the actual-doctor-and-hospital healthcare system late in the treatment game, paid for by insurance and the government, that does pick our pockets" (p. 322), and it further breaks our legs when the entire healthcare system is at risk of collapsing because of a surge COVID-19 patients who are largely unvaccinated. 

For most of the book, I walked away with a feeling of, "History has shown that rational thinking eventually wins the day, and so it will win today, too." The problem, however, is that modern internet technology is allowing those who used to fade away at the fringes of society to now gather together and amplify each other's wackiness, making their ideas more mainstream. (p. 264) This book does an excellent job of identifying the problem, but then basically leaves the reader hanging in terms of what we can do about it. There's a sense that we just have to be optimistic that "our blithe conviction that America's forms of freedom and democracy and justice and affluence must prevail in the end." (p. 437) The author does provide one clear actionable piece of advice: "Fight the good fight in your private life. You needn't get into an argument with the stranger... but do not give acquaintances and friends and family members free passes." (p. 440)

As sweeping as this book's history is, I actually wish that more specific information was included. More than once, the author described events but, for unknown reasons, chose not to divulge a person's name. In one historical account, several paragraphs told how two ministers organized major religious revival events in Kentucky (p. 60-61), but what were their names? In current times, an "eminent child psychologist at Boston University" (p. 408) was mentioned, but who is it?! I guess the names of these people are not exactly important to the point being made, however, for me, excluding the names gave those passages a kind of nebulous feeling, like when someone tells a story about "a guy they heard about".

Along the same lines, I wish the book delved more deeply into some of the topics. For example, I was floored when the book mentioned only in passing the "Oneida Community, which...lasted for decades before morphing into a major cutlery and tableware company." (p. 103) I did a bit of Googling and read up on some of their outrageous beliefs, and I wish the book had included more details to illustrate the fantasy nature of this particular community. Considering how much information is already packed into the book, though, I understand that the author couldn't elaborate on every subject, and it's actually a sad indictment of just how many nonsensical ideas Americans have bought into that the book had to sacrifice depth for breadth, even with 400+ pages.

Entertainingly, this book is very much written for a contemporary audience. There are a lot of specific references to American pop culture, for example, when the author makes passing mention of the Borg (p. 433) from Star Trek. Also, there are some fun tangential tidbits in the footnotes.