Reviews

Charles W. Chesnutt envied the White professional writers around him who could make a living from writing, who controlled the literary magazine market and the book publishing industry. Chesnutt gained more leverage, little enough though it was, in the White book and magazine publishing world than any Black writer of his time. He never could live from his professional writing despite the acclaim he received from the White literary establishment during the heyday of his career.

Look Out: The Delight and Danger of Taking the Long View is a work of mixed creative nonfiction modes (personal essay, immersion, travel, speculative CNF), reportage, and warning, all built on the motif of gaining elevation to see beyond our everyday ken—an ambition that comes at a price.

A Giant Among Giants is not a “life and times” biography. It does not situate McCovey in the social and historical contexts of America beyond baseball. The book is mostly stories and quotes from various ballplayers of McCovey’s era (1959-1980), speaking well of him, of course, but providing a vivid portrait of the man as a ballplayer.

As commonly portrayed, pro basketball in the 1970s suffered from Black athletes who lacked not only the dignity of 1960s pioneers such as Bill Russell or Elgin Baylor, but also the mass-marketability of 1980s icons such as Magic Johnson and Michael Jordan. The popular memory of pro hoops in this era includes accounts of contract-jumping, on-court fighting, and cocaine-sniffing. Theresa Runstedtler’s Black Ball seeks to dislodge this conventional narrative.

Wallace wrecked his political career with his run for the presidency in 1948. His biggest mistake was not quitting the government when Roosevelt was in his final weeks to take over the leadership of the liberals, as Eleanor Roosevelt begged him to. But perhaps he knew he would wreck his career. Perhaps he wanted to, as, after all, he did not really have the makeup to be a successful politician. But he was one of the most important political figures of his time.

James Gunn’s Superman gives his film’s Man of Tomorrow three notable speeches—one about kindness, one about respect, and one about honor—that, in any normal year, would make every eyeball in the theatre roll back into its socket.

Lauren Lassabe Shepherd reminds us that we are still living with the impact of the conservative campus activism of the 1960s and 1970s. And she argues that the current leaders of the right are the natural heirs to their ideological forefathers, not an aberration as some maintain.

Her book design itself seems an exercise in branding. Only the word “Melania” on the cover. Nothing else, indicating not just fame but a sort of stardom, a woman known by only one name like singers Madonna and Beyoncé or, more fitting here, models Iman and Twiggy.

Children’s media creators are not just benevolent spinners of yarns—they are business owners, media executives, and freelance creatives. The need to turn a profit has long lived in harmony with the need to create high-quality content. But Disney, unfortunately, has begun to view quality as superfluous. Their live-action remakes are thinly-veiled cash grabs that lazily recycle old content and direct viewers to endless scores of merchandise with little creative energy required.

Everything about Mark Twain, Ron Chernow shows us, is writ large, heartbreak and loss a constant redundancy, his explosive fits of anger and condemnation, his repeated lapses into sentimentality, a reiteration of public complaints somehow enabled rather than contradicted by his wondrous humor, a wit at once profound and outrageous. But Twain’s is merely an exaggeration of our existence, its pain and its joy, our past, and our culture, inescapably our Americanness.