FALL SPOTLIGHT: NINA TOTENBERG

Allison Shelley-NPR

Few journalists who write about the Supreme Court are more respected than NPR correspondent Nina Totenberg. In her forthcoming book, Dinners With Ruth: A Memoir on the Power of Friendships (Simon & Schuster, Sept. 13), she discusses her friendship with the late Ruth Bader Ginsburg. The author answered our questions via email.

In 2020, we lost a legendary figure with the passing of Ruth Bader Ginsburg. What do you remember most about your interactions with her? She was at once traditional and radical, warm and cool, and, above all, an amazing friend. She was traditional in her approach and her dedication to her work but radical in her willingness to consider almost any idea. She was a devoted wife and mother, but she managed to marry a man who promoted her more than himself—and did all the cooking, in part out of self-preservation (Ruth had many strengths, but cooking wasn’t one of them). I interviewed her so many times that I lost count, and while these performative interviews, of necessity, had a great deal of repetition, there always seemed to be something new I learned. Ruth was not from a confessional generation, and she was not easy to really know. But once you were her friend, her attention to that friendship was very special.

Most importantly, our friendship of almost 50 years began when we were both very young and not well known (especially me). As we each grew in our professional lives, I never imagined that I would be covering her on a daily basis. When that happened, we tried, and succeeded, I think, in keeping each to our own lanes. So much so that just hours after undergoing surgery for lung cancer, Ruth called me from the ICU to explain that she had forbidden my doctorhusband to tell me in advance about what was going on, because she didn’t want to do anything that would force me to choose between my friendship for her and my professional obligation to report the news.

The Supreme Court is on everyone’s mind right now. As one of the premier SCOTUS correspondents, what would you say is the biggest misconception about the court? In any other year, I could have easily answered this question, but the court has taken such a dramatic and pronounced turn to the right that it is very difficult to say where this institution is going and what will happen to it in the long run.

Were you a big reader as a kid? Are there any formative books you remember from your youth or any adults who influenced you as a reader or writer? The most formative books I read as a kid were probably the Nancy Drew books, which I devoured. They were books that made me feel that women could do anything a man could. Besides which, Nancy had a car and a cute boyfriend, both of which I wanted, too. As I think about the books that had a formative influence in my childhood, they all were about women, or girls, and centered on the idea that we could be powerful personalities and fight for equality. So, in addition to Nancy Drew, there was Little Women, Jane Eyre, and Pride and Prejudice, and my mom read me Charlotte’s Web. There was also a very small string of women’s biographies in the school library on figures such as Madame [Marie] Curie and Dolly Madison—the few that I found among the very long string of biographies about men. And of course, there was Theodore White’s The Making of the President 1960, which I read in my teens. It opened my eyes to the profession I really wanted to join—journalism—a place where I could be a witness to history.

Interview by Eric Liebetrau

Marcus, Greil Yale Univ. (288 pp.) $27.50 | Oct. 11, 2022 978-0-300-25531-7

Splendid biographical essays on that most elusive of subjects, the shape-shifter once known as Bobby Zimmerman. On Jan. 24, 1961, Bob Dylan, “now the archivist of what he once called ‘historical-traditional music,’ then a highwayman whispering about leaving bodies on the road,” arrived as if by magic carpet in New York City and took the booming folk music scene by storm. “Blowing in the Wind,” released 15 months later, became the best-known modern folk song of the day. Having conquered folk, Dylan refused to sit still, plugged in, dropped out for a while, and has taken to multiyear tours that transport him to every continent. He has also shaped himself as an enigma over the last seven decades, remarking, “I write songs, I play on stage, and I make records. That’s it. The rest is not anybody’s business.” It’s a fair statement, but Marcus looks at the rest even as he’s limning the musical periods in the artist’s life, from the heyday of the 1960s to the nadir of the ’80s (“For Bob Dylan the entire decade would be a continuing series of bad hair-dos and bad albums”) and on to his rebirth as an elder statesman of popular music who ushered in his profoundly productive late period, beginning 30 years ago, with a revisitation of folk standards from centuries past. Marcus is both shrewd and appreciative, and he delivers rousing apothegms, as when he writes of “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll,” written in the summer of 1963, “We heard the ambition to write a history that will last as long as Antigone.” Casual Dylan fans will know at least a couple of the author’s seven chosen songs (of course, he mentions many more), but his explorations of lesser-known tunes such as “Ain’t Talkin’ ” and the extraordinary epic “Murder Most Foul,” with all their allusions to the lost history of America, should inspire them to dive deeper into the discography.

Meacham, Jon Random House (720 pp.) $34.99 | Oct. 25, 2022 978-0-553-39396-5

A deeply researched look at Lincoln’s moral evolution on the issue of slavery. Pulitzer Prize–winning historian Meacham follows Lincoln from his rural Kentucky roots to his assassination in 1865, paying close attention to the many influences on his ideas and values. As a young boy, the future president would memorize and repeat the sermons of local pastors, and he read voraciously even though, other than the Bible, not many books were readily available on the frontier. At the time, writes the author, Lincoln was “far more attracted to reading, thinking, and talking than he was to farming, rail-splitting, and hunting.” Meacham astutely examines the contents of some of those books we know he read, showing their influence on his thinking. Allusions to some of them cropped up in famous speeches later in his career. The author also traces Lincoln’s evolution from bookish farm boy to trial lawyer to politician, a progression aided by the rise of the new Republican Party, whose views largely matched his own. Meacham sets Lincoln’s development against the growing crisis of the slave states’ determination to maintain and expand the scope of slavery, a fight culminating in Lincoln’s election and the Civil War. The author provides in-depth analysis of Lincoln’s career as president and on how his thoughts on the issues of slavery and the status of African Americans changed during the course of the war, right up to the Union victory. Where those thoughts might have led him—and the nation—became immaterial in the wake of his assassination and the subsequent accession to power of those who did not share his experiences or vision—most notably, Andrew Johnson. While there are countless books on Lincoln, one of the most studied and written-about figures in history, Meacham’s latest will undoubtedly become one of the most widely read and consulted.

ested in Lincoln and his era. (This review is printed here for the first time.)

Mendel, Iuliia Trans. by Madeline G. Levine One Signal/Atria (240 pp.) $27.99 | Sept. 13, 2022 978-1-66801-271-0

The former press secretary to Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy lays out the stakes of the current war.

“Perhaps he had not always been a perfect leader,” writes Mendel. “There had been difficulty in mustering the necessary support around his initiatives, managing his staff, and navigating the shoals of partisan politics. But in the chaos of war he knew exactly what to do. He became our national protector.” Indeed, Zelenskyy came into his own as a wartime leader of unflinching courage and a deeply wrought conviction that Ukraine is a bulwark of Western democracy and a nation that belongs in the 21st century. By contrast, Mendel writes in a closely observed portrait, “there is only one way to describe Putin: ‘old age.’ No

matter how much I looked at him and his delegation, no matter how much I listened, everything about them conveyed old age: old ideology, old principles, old behavior, old thoughts.” Readers will find a generally admiring but not entirely uncritical depiction of Zelenskyy as well. He is a masterful negotiator who understands that peace is preferable to war, for “only with peace can he focus on rebuilding his nation.” That rebuilding involves guiding Ukraine to forward-looking economic, social, and cultural standards and shaking off the power of oligarchs, but it also acknowledges that Ukraine is a multicultural society that includes ethnic Russians—who, in the course of the current war, have discovered that their language is now associated with “inhumanity and cruel aggression,” so much so that they’re switching to speaking Ukrainian as an expression of solidarity. Readers will also find a cleareyed look at both the reasons for Russia’s intransigence and the countervailing force of Ukrainian resistance in a war that “has burned away all that was artificial and superficial in our lives.”

Mukherjee, Siddhartha Scribner (480 pp.) $32.50 | Oct. 25, 2022 978-1-982-11735-1

A luminous journey into cellular biology. Mukherjee, a physician, professor of medicine, and Pulitzer Prize–winning author (The Emperor of All Maladies), has a knack for explaining difficult ideas in terms that are both straightforward and interesting. In his latest, he punctuates his scientific explanations with touching, illustrative stories of people coping with cell-based illnesses, tracking how the knowledge gleaned from those cases contributed to further scientific advancement. In the early chapters, the author traces the discovery of cells as the building blocks of animal and plant life, with the invention of the microscope making analysis possible. With this development, researchers could better understand the roles of cells in human physiology, including the illnesses that rogue cells could cause. In the middle section, Mukherjee investigates how scientists then moved on to study the processes through which cells become specialized by function and how some turn cancerous. The identification of the phases of cell division and the discovery of DNA were crucial breakthroughs, opening the way for a new generation of treatments. Mukherjee occasionally digresses from the historical story to provide vivid portraits of key researchers, with recollections about his own work. The final section of the book deals with emerging areas of research such as cell manipulation and gene editing as well as new technologies like transplantation. It’s all unquestionably exciting, but the author is careful to acknowledge the knotty ethical considerations. Treating embryos for cellular abnormalities makes medical sense, but the idea of altered human beings has worrying implications. Mukherjee also emphasizes that there is still a great deal we do not know about cells, especially the interactions between types. Understanding the mechanics is one thing, he notes; hearing “the song of the cell” is something else. This poignant idea serves as a suitable coda for a fascinating story related with clarity and common sense.

Munroe, Randall Riverhead (368 pp.) $24.99 | Sept. 13, 2022 978-0-525-53711-3

Former NASA roboticist Munroe continues his quest to answer the world’s unlikeliest questions.

Assuming you had enough fuel, how long would it take you to drive to the edge of the observable universe? If you traveled at 65 mph, writes the author, “it will take you 480,000,000,000,000,000 years…to get there, or 35 million times the current age of the universe.” How Munroe arrives at such calculations isn’t always clear, and his math doesn’t always show the work, but roll with it. He estimates that a hungry T. rex set loose on the streets of New York might be placated with 80 hamburgers—and if the dinosaur decides to devour a friend of yours instead of the proffered treat, “anyway, hey, you have 80 burgers.” Speaking of eating, can a person eat a cloud? No, writes the author, not unless you can squeeze the air out of it, and never mind whether the water within the cloud is potable. Munroe takes clear delight in his odd investigations—e.g., whether a person—or a vampire, maybe—can get drunk drinking a drunk person’s blood. The answer has to do with the dilution of ethanol, but Munroe pauses to counsel that it’s a very bad idea to drink someone else’s blood in the first instance: “I’m not a doctor, and I try not to give medical advice in my books. However, I will confidently say that you shouldn’t drink the blood of someone with a viral hemorrhagic fever.” You’ve got to like a book that blends deep dives into such matters as the nature of black holes and the mathematics of genealogy with handy pop-culture references—as when Munroe brightly likens the unfortunate Greek king Sisyphus to Hollywood stalwart Dwayne Johnson, because, of course, rocks are involved in both cases.

Prescod, Danielle Little A (286 pp.) $24.95 | Oct. 1, 2022 978-1-5420-3516-3

A Black fashion reporter describes how White supremacy led to her crippling perfectionism and subsequent eating disorder. Growing up in Connecticut, from a young age, Prescod assumed the role of the “token Black girl” in her mostly White group of friends. Sometimes she was forced to play the role of Scary Spice, the only Black Spice Girl, during pretend play. Other times she discovered her classmates’ racist attitudes on three-way phone calls. Years of being teased about her alleged tendency to act White made her jumpy around her Black peers, eliminating the possibility of a safe haven away from her school friends. Due to this isolation, she “became manipulative, calculating, and mean. I was desperate to gain some modicum of control, and to do that, I constantly doled out criticisms, gossiped, and stirred up petty drama. I developed a haughty affect that I employed for both passing judgment and my own protection.” Her sharpness turned out to be an invaluable weapon not only for hiding her internalized racism from her peers, but also for her professional success in the fashion industry. Eventually, though, her ambition and self-hatred morphed into debilitating depression and an eating disorder. “I was in dogged pursuit of an imagined sense of power,” she writes, “and was very mean in doing so….But I wonder now if I was always meanest to myself.” Prescod left the fashion industry for a job at the TV network BET, a move she now sees as the first step on her long, slow recovery. Throughout the text, the author exhibits an impeccable clarity of thought, drawing thoughtful and original connections between institutionalized racism and her personal experience. Her voice is frank, vulnerable, and witty, and she has a talent for using humor to poke fun at her past self while simultaneously underscoring the depth of the systemic violence she was forced to endure.

Preston, Diana Atlantic Monthly (448 pp.) $30.00 | Oct. 4, 2022 978-0-8021-6018-8

An exciting biography of the immortal naturalist’s legendary journey.

The son of a wealthy, authoritarian father, Charles Darwin (1809-1882) had an agreeable temperament and obediently studied medicine and theology. However, he performed poorly due to his fascination with natural history. In 1831, he was asked to join the Beagle as both a naturalist and companion to its captain, Robert FitzRoy, and he had little trouble overcoming his father’s veto. Prizewinning historian Preston mines the massive existing documentation, including firsthand accounts by Darwin and FitzRoy, to create a compelling account of the five-year voyage, during which Darwin observed, collected, preserved, and packed thousands of plants and animals and tons of fossils and rocks to send back to England. Spending more than half his time on shore, he traveled thousands of miles by horse, mule, or foot, often suffering intensely and relying for protection, food, and hospitality on horsemen, ranchers, soldiers, and local officials. Unlike most world travelers who wrote their books and got on with their lives, Darwin thought deeply about his observations and, unhappily, concluded that they contradicted the traditional account of Creation, which almost everyone took for granted. Species varied from place to place, and differences grew when creatures better adapted to an environment thrived at the expense of those less adapted. He called this natural selection. Preston rightly points out that Darwin did not discover evolution. Thinkers throughout history speculated that life was ever changing, but no one explained how. Natural selection was the first testable explanation, and Darwin’s On the Origin of Species delivered the evidence. The book appeared at a critical historical moment, becoming an international sensation and bestseller—though not everyone saw the light. It was well into the 20th century before essentially all scientists agreed that Darwin was on the right track. Since then, biographies have poured off the presses, but readers cannot go wrong with this expert account.

Price, Margo Univ. of Texas (256 pp.) $27.95 | Oct. 4, 2022 978-1-4773-2350-2

A Grammy-nominated musician chronicles her long struggle to make it as a musician while refusing to sacrifice her artistic integrity. “I picked up the shattered pieces and started again,” writes Price (b. 1983) after chronicling yet another moment of crushing defeat on her journey to a successful career. This determination to persevere after a major setback—whether it was another blow from her struggle against addiction or a disappointing run-in with an industry insider— is a recurring theme in this engaging and beautifully narrated quest for personal fulfillment and musical recognition. The author takes us from her humble beginnings in Aledo, Illinois (pop. 3,600), to the stage of Saturday Night Live and details all of the gigs, concerts, campfire jam sessions, dive-bar escapades,