Eliza Griswold’s new book, “Amity and Prosperity,” is an impassioned account of the devastating effects of fracking on a community in southwestern Pennsylvania.
Sophie Hannah, whose Hercule Poirot novel “The Mystery of Three Quarters” will be published this month, is addicted to self-help: “Write a book and call it something like ‘The Five Secrets of Badass Kickassery’ and I will buy it immediately.”
Mona Hanna-Attisha’s “What the Eyes Don’t See” traces her role in proving Flint had a crisis. Anna Clark’s “The Poisoned City” takes a broader, historical view. Both books are damning.
In Donal Ryan’s new novel, recently longlisted for the Booker Prize, a Syrian doctor settles in Ireland, where his life intersects with two other shattered men.
Donald Hall died last month at 89, and his recently published memoir, “A Carnival of Losses: Notes Nearing Ninety,” is “up there with the best things he did.”
In “Ninety-Nine Glimpses of Princess Margaret,” Craig Brown ignores all the starchy obligations of biography and adopts a form of his own to ensnare the reader.
