"The 'rogue', be it to do with elephant, tiger, lion, or hippopotamus, is the individual who does not even respect the law of the animal community, of the pack, the horde, of its kind. By its savage or indocile behavior, it stays or goes away from the society to which it belongs."

—Jacques Derrida, from The Beast and the Sovereign, Volume I translated by Geoffrey Bennington. The book launches a new series, edited by Geoffrey Bennington and Peggy Kamuf, of Derrida's unpublished lectures. In The Beast and the Sovereign, Derrida deconstructs the traditional determinations of the human through an examination of the persistent association of bestiality or animality with sovereignty in western literature.

Jacques Derrida (1930—2004) was director of studies at the École des hautes études en sciences sociales, Paris, and professor of humanities at the University of California, Irvine.

This fall, the Press published two books on the current state of the American university. Gaye Tuchman's Wannabe U: Inside the Corporate University is an eye-opening exposé of the modern university that argues that higher education's misguided pursuit of success fails us all. James C. Garland's Saving Alma Mater: A Rescue Plan for America's Public Universities, on the other hand, argues that a new compact between state government and public universities is needed to make schools more affordable and financially secure.

We asked these scholars debate the current state and future of American universities. Tuchman and Garland don't agree on much, but their conversation sheds new light on the many problems and promises of the higher education system in this country. Yesterday, Tuchman began by responding to Garland's review of her book. Today, Garland picks back up the debate on the subject of funding.

From: James C. Garland

To: Gaye Tuchman

The trouble with talking about markets is that the word itself has become so loaded. To conservatives, "markets" are the way to fight socialism and Big Government, while to liberals, they symbolize income inequality and runaway corporate malfeasance. Of course, markets are intrinsically neither good nor bad, nor are they embodied with any particular ideology. However, because market forces are very powerful they have to be structured carefully, lest they have bad unintended consequences, a recent example being Wall Street excesses.

In public higher education, market financing is usually juxtaposed against public financing. Back in the days when you and I were in college, there was no public university "market." A year's tuition for a state university was easily affordable (for example, $213 at the University of Minnesota in 1961), and the state paid for the rest. Today, as you know, tuition has grown to about $10,000 and state support has declined to about 25% of the costs.

Many people see this evolution as a de facto philosophical shift from higher education being a "public good" to its being a "private good," the former meaning that all of society benefits (from universal access to college) and the latter meaning that only individuals benefit.

For two reasons, I have long thought this to be a facile and somewhat artificial division. First, it seems to ignore the obvious truth that higher education provides both public and private benefits. There is no clean dividing line between a public and private good.

But my bigger problem with the division it that it links public and private goods to the funding source. By this reasoning, if the taxpayers pay, it is a public good, whereas if the individual pays it is a private good. Again, I see this as an artificial distinction. To me, the more relevant consideration is affordability. I don't really care if the beneficiaries "copay" for their education, so long as they can afford to do so. Unfortunately, as tuition has climbed and state support has dwindled, there is a growing segment of people who cannot make the payments.
"What will it take," you ask "to make policy makers realize that we must find a way to fund universal higher education rather than to place the burden of paying for education on the very people who are most in need?" That is indeed the key question.

But I fear we part company on how to answer it. You would redirect public funds back to universities, pass universal health care to ease campus spending on benefits, free up money by liberalizing drug laws and reducing state prison expenses, and change the public mindset that relegates higher education to a low priority in state budgets.

I would like those things too. In fact, I would like to return to the days when a year's college tuition was $213, when legislatures footed most of the expenses, and when classes were taught by full-time professors on well-maintained campuses. But those days are gone forever. There are just too many other growing demands on public treasuries to expect a return to the past.

So to me, the solution is to make the optimal use of public dollars, and that's where markets come in. Not free markets, but markets regulated to ensure the desired outcome. Since you've read my book you know that I'm recommending using public funds to give grants to needy students, rather than giving it directly to universities. There are two reasons for doing that.

First, it places the money where it will do the most good. When public money is given as an appropriation, it indirectly subsidizes all students. Today, Warren Buffet's grandchildren receive the same financial benefit as the children of young single mothers on welfare, and that just isn't right. Treating all people equally isn't the same thing as treating them fairly. And second, it creates desirable incentives for universities to respond to the needs of their grant-holding students.

Consider, for example, the federal food stamp program. This is a worthy social program in which the federal government spends public funds so needy individuals can purchase food. But now imagine a different kind of food subsidy program, in which the money would be appropriated to supermarket chains instead of needy people, the idea being for supermarkets to pass the savings on to all their customers. That would clearly be a terrible idea, because (a) it would dilute public dollars by underwriting the food expenses of those who didn't need help, and (b) it would give supermarkets an incentive to cater to wealthy customers by stocking their shelves with expensive specialty foods. Under this "revised" food subsidy program, the needy would lose purchasing power they formerly had, while the wealthy would gain it. But that’s exactly the way public higher education is now funded. The money goes to the universities, which pass along the savings to all students, whether they need it or not. And then universities build climbing walls and luxury dorms to attract even more wealthy students, since the needy students can't afford high tuition payments.

My proposal would change this system by giving needy students more purchasing power. Universities would now have incentives to be more responsive to their needs. In fact, the universities that would benefit most by my proposal are the regional, non-selective campuses that enroll large numbers of low- and middle-income students. The new system would benefit such schools, because their students would be armed with need-based grants that would more than reimburse their campuses for the loss of public subsidy. Thus "market forces," would decrease educational inequities by empowering precisely those people who cannot now afford the high price of college. The full picture is more complicated (which is why I wrote a book on the subject), but basically, my proposal would reshape incentives to accomplish the end goals that I believe both of us consider worthy.

So how do you think Wannabe U would react if it faced the prospects of losing its state subsidy (over, say, a six-year period) and knew that the only way it could make up the loss was by making itself more desirable to low- and middle-income students? (Keep in mind that the same total dollars would be going to public universities in the state, but the universities couldn't count automatically on receiving the money.)

How do you believe Wannabe U would respond to this challenge? How would the faculty respond if the university started recruiting more low- and middle-income students? How would the change impact classes and the campus environment? Would Wannabe U stop being a "conformist" university by trying to compete with the Berkeleys of the country, which cater to well-prepared upper income students? What do you think the reaction of the University Senate would be?

This fall, the Press published two books on the current state of the American university. Gaye Tuchman's Wannabe U: Inside the Corporate University is an eye-opening exposé of the modern university that argues that higher education's misguided pursuit of success fails us all. James C. Garland's Saving Alma Mater: A Rescue Plan for America's Public Universities, on the other hand, argues that a new compact between state government and public universities is needed to make schools more affordable and financially secure.

Last month, Garland reviewed Tuchman's book on his blog. We asked Tuchman to respond to Garland, and what follows is a long conversation about the current state and future of American universities. Tuchman and Garland don't agree on much, but their debate sheds new light on the many problems and promises of the higher education system in this country. What follows is the first half of the exchange. The conclusion will be posted tomorrow.

From: Gaye Tuchman
To: James C. Garland

I read your comments on my book with amusement and despair. Sometimes the same passage prompted both feelings. So, I wind up amused that a bright fellow like you did not understand that I was not condemning—or even criticizing—individual administrators or even the Wannabe U administrators. And I despair when a physicist, who presumably studies patterns, cannot understand that social scientists study patterns too.

I'm merely trying to describe the patterns that I've seen at Wannabe University and to say what I think they mean. The quote from C. Wright Mills (on the page across from the Table of Contents) captures how sociologists think: "Caught in the limited milieu of their everyday lives, ordinary men [and women] often cannot reason about the great social structures—rational and irrational—of which their lives are a subordinate part. Accordingly, they often carry out series of apparently rational actions without any idea of the ends they serve." My job is to study patterns and figure out what they mean. I also teach students about patterns, including how in recent years an exaltation of market forces seems to have meant that the rich have been increasing their share of the wealth and the poor have indeed been getting poorer.

Your blog post suggests that you do not accept that sociologists study patterns. As you put it, "Sociologists see the world differently from most folks. They see patterns everywhere. A friendly pat on the shoulder establishes dominance; the celery sticks on an hors d'oeuvres tray mark the lowly status of the retiree. Who speaks first, who interrupts whom, who sits where, who has a wood desk and an office on the second floor—all of these are 'tells' about power and status, who's up and who's down, and what's in and what's out."

My guess is that the patterns that physicists study are harder to see. (I've never seen a photon collide with anything, and I haven't studied physics since an awesome course in high school.) But at least the photons don't talk back, deny that their behavior is patterned or alter their behavior because they've read what you've written and want to prove you wrong. All of us engage in patterned behavior. If what we said and did was genuinely idiosyncratic, our well-meaning family and friends would have mumbled about our egocentricities and sent us off for medical care. So, the penthouse overlooking the East River costs more than an apartment that is just as large, but on the third floor. The office of the dean is larger and furnished much better than the assistant professor's office, and the university president probably has a more expensive desk than the executive assistant who reports to him [or her]. And sometimes men pat one another on the shoulder when they enter a room; women rarely do that.

When a sociologist uses ethnography to find out how a phenomenon or a process works, one key is selecting a good case. Although the exception does tell us something about the rule, it's often easier to locate patterns that matter by examining a typical case. As best as I can tell, Wannabe University is pretty typical. Our administrators seem pretty typical and our professors do too. Trying to transform complicated variables into simple measures seems pretty typical. Even the food court in the Student Union and the increasing percentage of courses taught by the contingent labor force seem pretty typical.

What I can't understand is: Why do all these administrators think it's great to ape the flaws of corporations and to transform complicated issues into simplistic and often phony metrics and also to objectify students as products? I had always wanted to think that administrators are smarter than that. Why do universities try so hard to be just like everyone else? Suppose that all of the chemistry departments are measuring themselves against the Berkeley department and all of the economics departments are measuring themselves against either Chicago or MIT. If all those departments are striving to be the same—only much better than average—how is anyone ever going to find out something genuinely new?

While we might take for granted the notion that animal species can become extinct—and that, occasionally, humans are the direct cause—among the early pioneers of natural science, the idea that any link in the great chain of being could be broken took a while to sink in. As the Washington Times' Claire Hopley notes in a recent review of Mark V. Barrow Jr.'s Nature's Ghosts: Confronting Extinction From the Age of Jefferson to the Age of Ecology:

18th- and early-19th-century scientists and thinkers believed that the world was created with a complete inventory of humans, animals, birds and vegetation, forming a chain of being.

The idea that a link in this chain could disappear undermined this fundamental concept. As Jefferson wrote, "Such is the economy of nature, that no instance can be produced of her having permitted any one race of her animals to become extinct; of her having formed any link in her great work so weak as to be broken." He put the mammoth first in his list of American mammals because he expected that a living example would be discovered as explorers moved westward and encountered wildlife unknown in the east.

The existence of uncharted territories, not only in America but also in Africa and the South Pacific, fostered resistance to the idea of extinction. But as distant countries were explored it became clear that species were being wiped out.…

But as Barrow's new book demonstrates, as the idea of extinction gained credence so too did the idea of conservation, at first, among natural scientists who wished to preserve specimens for study, and later, among members of the public interested in preserving the beauty of the North American wildlife.

Delivering a sweeping, beautifully illustrated historical narrative of these efforts to preserve the natural world, Barrow's Nature's Ghosts takes readers on a journey from the early scientific discoveries that revealed the threat of extinction, to the pioneering conservation efforts of early naturalists like John James Audubon and John Muir.

With Nature's Ghosts Barrow offers an unprecedented view of what we've lost—and a stark reminder of the hard work of preservation still ahead.

Read an excerpt.

Like other recent analyses of academic careers, Joseph Hermanowicz's Lives in Science: How Institutions Affect Academic Careers delivers some rather brutal news for all those wanna-be tenure track professors out there hoping to leave their mark on their discipline—it probably ain't gonna happen. As Beryl Lieff Benderly writes in a recent review of Hermanowicz's book for Science Career Magazine:

Many aspirants to research careers lack an accurate idea of where they're headed. In fact, Hermanowicz writes, accepting an unrealistically rosy image of one's future is a basic step on the road to becoming an academic scientist.

That image traditionally includes a pantheon of the greats of one's discipline, faith in the high intrinsic value of research, and belief that recognition by the scientific community is a valid measure of worth. This image also implies that, with talent and dedication, any young scientist has a chance of making a distinguished contribution.… [But] as the great majority of faculty members learn … the opportunity to do important science and gain major recognition only ever exists for a relative few—overwhelmingly those educated and employed at the most prestigious universities.

Yet, as Benderly points out, this certainly isn't the most surprising revelation Hermanowicz has to offer, instead, "what Hermanowicz's book adds is insight into the human lives behind these well-known processes.

Scientists at elite schools, he found, retain to the end of their careers their original dedication to research, the goal of pursuing eminence, and a belief in the essential fairness of the scientific reward system. In contrast, at pluralist and communitarian schools, most faculty members must accept that their early faith was misplaced and their dreams will never be realized. Some pluralists do succeed in attaining prominence, but most cannot. This early loss of faith has an advantage, Hermanowicz says: The painful task of coming to terms gives many of these individuals an impressive depth of humanity.

Elite faculty, on the other hand, generally perceive only at the end their careers—and to their intense disappointment—that decades of single-minded striving have not won a perch in the 'pantheon.' Only then begins their process of re-evaluation. Only after lives of great privilege and good fortune—the extent of which many never appreciate—do most begin to question the basic fairness of science's system of rewards."

To read the rest of Benderly's article navigate to the Science Career Magazine website.

Seemingly but one of the many placid bodies of water carved out of the glaciated rock that inhabits the heart of England's Lake District, the man-made Thirlmere—which since the late nineteenth century has been supplying water to the city of Manchester more than 160 km away—was once the focus of one of the first conflicts pitting industrial progress against a burgeoning conservation movement. In her new book, The Dawn of Green: Manchester, Thirlmere, and Modern Environmentalism, Harriet Ritvo offers the fascinating tale of Thirlmere's construction and the struggles to stop it, all while delivering an insightful analysis of how this conflict can inform modern environmental and conservation campaigns.

In a recent review of the book for The Independent, Emma Townshend writes:

Ritvo's account of this confrontation between industrial commerce and early environmentalism is clear and utterly readable. Thirlmere was the first modern conflict between these two camps, so difficult to reconcile. Ideas about natural beauty versus the need for modern utilities were discussed here in detail for the first time. But the consequent history of big-dam making has proved equally controversial—such as at Hetch Hetchy in the US, a parallel turn of the century project to bring water supplies to San Francisco by creating a dam in the centre of the new Yosemite National Park.

In our own decade, the Three Gorges project on the Yangtze took its place in the history books as the most destructive dam ever built in archaeological, cultural and human terms, having displaced some 1.24 million people from their homes and contributed to the extinction of the Yangtze River dolphin. Yet the project is also hailed in China for its formidable contribution to cutting greenhouse-gas emissions: in its first three years the dam has already generated enough electricity to cover a third of its building costs, and it provides significant winter flood protection to the provinces downstream, including several of China's biggest cities.

There are no easy answers, and the dam at Three Gorges demonstrates exactly why Ritvo's fascination with the conflict at Thirlmere remains relevant to us today.

For Townshend's complete article navigate to The Independent website.

Soldier Field, as sports fans nationwide know, is the home of the Chicago Bears. For decades its signature columns provided an iconic backdrop for gridiron matches. But few realize that the stadium has been much more than that. Ford's book Soldier Field: A Stadium and Its City explores how this amphitheater evolved from a public war memorial into a majestic arena that helped define Chicago.

Chicago Tribune staff writer Ford led the reporting on the stadium's controversial 2003 renovation—and simultaneously found himself unearthing a dramatic history. As he tells it, the tale of Soldier Field truly is the story of Chicago, filled with political intrigue and civic pride. Designed by Holabird and Roche, Soldier Field arose through a serendipitous combination of local tax dollars, City Beautiful boosterism, and the machinations of Mayor "Big Bill" Thompson. The result was a stadium that stood at the center of Chicago's political, cultural, and sporting life for nearly sixty years before the arrival of Walter Payton and William "The Refrigerator" Perry.

Ford describes it all in the voice of a seasoned reporter: the high school football games, track and field contests, rodeos, and even NASCAR races. Photographs, including many from the Chicago Park District's own collections, capture these remarkable scenes: the swelling crowds at ethnic festivals, Catholic masses, and political rallies. Few remember that Soldier Field hosted Billy Graham and Martin Luther King Jr., Judy Garland and Johnny Cash—as well as Grateful Dead's final show. Soldier Field captures this history in the making and will captivate armchair historians and sports fans alike.

Check out his interview with Allison Payne below!

Galbraith years later created a furor at his alma mater [Ontario Agricultural College] by referring to it in a Time interview as in his youth “not only the cheapest but probably the worst college in the English-speaking world.” There was much angry talk in Guelph about rescinding the honorary degree he'd been given as “OAC's greatest living alumnus” … Galbraith eventually backtracked, but only slightly, claiming that his comment applied to OAC in his undergraduate years and that he would allow that Arkansas A&M was no doubt worse, although there was some question whether English was spoken there.

John Kenneth Galbraith (1908-2006) was a Canadian-American economist whose bestselling books like The Affluent Society and The New Industrial State made him one of the most famous public intellectuals writing on the economic issues of the twentieth century.

Ever wondered about the techniques the pros use to produce such seemingly impossible images as the one above?
In a recent article for the Omaha World-Herald staff writer Rick Ruggles offers some insights into those used by Michael Forsberg, author of the new book Great Plains: America's Lingering Wild—a fascinating photographic journey through some of the last remaining natural landscapes of the Great Plains.

In his new book, Forsberg—whose work has also appeared in such publications as Audubon, National Geographic, Natural History, and National Wildlife—has captured a number of amazing images of natural landscapes and wildlife. But as the World-Herald article reveals, the intimacy with which Forsberg is able to approach his subject matter is, perhaps ironically, due to the fact that much of the time, he's not even there when the shutter opens. As Ruggles writes:

Wildlife photographers like Michael Forsberg, who just published the book Great Plains: America's Lingering Wild, now have the ability to capture close-ups of wary creatures that can hear or sniff out a person from hundreds of yards away.

Forsberg intended to deploy that strategy this bright-blue October day just west of the headquarters of the National Audubon Society's Rowe Sanctuary. The sanctuary is known as one of the finest spots from which to view the sandhill crane migration in March.

Forsberg, 43, looked for a place to assemble a "camera trap," which includes two small devices with an infrared beam running from one, the transmitter, to the other, the receiver. The photographer also sets out a camera and lights, or flashes.

A predator that steps through the invisible red beam triggers the camera, which in turn triggers the flashes. Forsberg can be far away, eating dinner with his wife and two daughters in Lincoln or photographing swans in the Sand Hills, when the image he covets is captured.

Continue reading about Forsberg's photographic techniques at the Omaha World-Herald or to preview some of its results, check out our online gallery of images from the book, and these sample pages in PDF format.

The Reader has an interview with Pacyga that ranges from his childhood experiences in the Back of the Yards neighborhood to the persistence of twentieth century paranoia about anarchism. From the interview:

A biography? You're treating Chicago like a person?

This book is an attempt to give an overview of the city's life. So I tried to do what I think a biographer does: he looks at various ups and downs in a person's life, talks about the turning points, and tries to shed light on the person's character.

So it's anecdotal?

It's a history that tells the story of race and ethnicity, technology, economic development, and politics, through various high and low points. If that's anecdotal then I guess so.

Were there any surprises?

Even after teaching the history of Chicago for 30 years, I wasn't aware of the paranoia about anarchism that has been in the city, from the Haymarket on, till about 1968. That struck me. Lucy Parsons, the wife of Albert Parsons, who was hung after the Haymarket affair [in 1886], was still getting blamed for things in the 1920s. She lived till 1941, and every time there was some sort of labor agitation, they looked for Lucy Parsons.

Read the full interview.

The Printers Row blog posted about Pacyga's book with a list of interesting facts from the book.

Did you know: "the section of 26th Street in Chicago's Little Village is the busiest shopping strip in the city outside of North Michigan Avenue. Identified by the gate which stands at the former site of Pilsen Park bearing the words 'Bienvenidos a Little Village' ('Welcome to Little Village'), the district is filled with a variety of independently-owned shops and restaurants."

For more, navigate to the Printer's Row blog.

Also we have gallery of historical photographs from the book.

Before Freakonomics there was the Becker-Posner blog.

Started in 2004 by Nobel Prize-winning economist Gary S. Becker and renowned jurist and legal scholar Richard A. Posner, the Becker-Posner Blog was unique in the still-developing blogosphere of the mid-aughts in that it offered a reliable source of lively, thought-provoking commentary on current events, its pithy and profound weekly essays highlighting the value of economic reasoning when applied to unexpected topics. Now in their new book Uncommon Sense: Economic Insights, from Marriage to Terrorism Becker and Posner collect some of their best work from their blog, offering uncanny analyses on everything from gay marriage to proposed bans on trans fats.

Recently reviewer John Kay summarized their analysis of New York's 2006 trans fat ban for a review of the book in the Financial Times, detailing Becker's insightful economic critique of the issue and Posner's libertarian counterargument. In the end, as Kay notes, Becker and Posner may not deliver easy answers—especially when these two intellectual powerhouses go head to head on an issue—"but the book is like a series of tutorials from a good teacher, and the object of a good tutorial is not to tell the student the answers.… The objective is to equip the student to think more effectively about the quite different problems that he or she will face in everyday life. Tutorials with Becker and Posner," Kay writes, "would undoubtedly be very valuable experiences."

Read Kay's full review on the Financial Times website, or navigate over to the Becker-Posner Blog and check out some of the authors' most recent updates.

Sociologist and feminist scholar Alice S. Rossi passed away last Tuesday at her home in Northampton, Mass. A past president of the American Sociological Association and one of the founding members of the National Organization for Women, Rossi was an outspoken advocate for women inside and outside academe. Rossi both lived by and focused much of her scholarship on her progressive views "on the status of women in work, family, and sexual life." Her husband Peter H. Rossi, also a distinguished sociologist and author of Down and Out in America: The Origins of Homelessness, passed away in 2006.

From an article on Rossi appearing in today's New York Times:

Professor Rossi was best known for her studies of people's lives—those of women in particular—as they move from youth to age. She edited several books on the subject, including Gender and the Life Course (Aldine, 1985); Sexuality Across the Life Course (University of Chicago, 1994); and Caring and Doing for Others: Social Responsibility in the Domains of Family, Work and Community (University of Chicago, 2001).

One of her most influential feminist articles was Equality Between the Sexes: An Immodest Proposal. First presented in 1963 at a meeting of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, it was published the next year in the academy's journal Daedalus.

In the article, Professor Rossi argued that for most women motherhood had become a full-time occupation, a state of affairs that hurt not only women but also the larger society in which they lived. For the well-being of both the women and the culture, she wrote, parity of the sexes is essential.

For more on Rossi's life and work, read the complete NYT article online, or listen to this fascinating dialogue between Rossi and her daughter for NPR's Morning Edition recorded in 2007.

Discoveries in astronomy challenge our fundamental ideas about the universe. Where the astronomers of antiquity once spoke of fixed stars, we now speak of whirling galaxies and giant supernovae. Where we once thought Earth was the center of the universe, we now see it as a small planet among millions of others, any number of which could also hold life. These dramatic shifts in our perspective hinge on thousands of individual discoveries: moments when it became clear to someone that some part of the universe—whether a planet or a supermassive black hole—was not as it once seemed.

Secrets of the Universe invites us to participate in these moments of revelation and wonder as scientists first experienced them. A renowned astronomer himself, Paul Murdin here revisits the most important astronomical discoveries ever made and introduces the scientists who made them in seventy short chapters which can be read consecutively as one narrative or dipped into and savored individually. The book makes even the most complex astronomical phenomena—from supermassive black holes to interstellar nebulae—wholly accessible to newcomers and general readers. It also features 400 full-color images, many of which would fit comfortably in the pages of Sky & Telescope or National Geographic.

The first section of Secrets explores discoveries made before the advent of the telescope, from stars and constellations to the position of our own sun. The second considers discoveries made within our own solar system, from the phases of Venus and the moons of Jupiter to the comets and asteroids at its distant frontier. The next section delves into discoveries of the dynamic universe, like gravitation, relativity, pulsars, and black holes. A fourth examines discoveries made within our own galaxy, from interstellar nebulae and supernovae to Cepheid variable stars and extrasolar planets. Next Murdin turns to discoveries made within the deepest recesses of the universe, like quasars, supermassive black holes, and gamma ray bursters. In the end, Murdin unveils where astronomy still teeters on the edge of discovery, considering dark matter and alien life alike. Really no topic in the history of astronomy evades Murdin’s graceful analysis in what will be the definitive book on the subject for years to come.

Read the press release.

The Chicago Tribune's cultural critic Julia Keller has yet another quotable review of a great new title from the University of Chicago Press. This time Keller offers an insightful critique of Philip Graham's new travel memoir documenting his year-long sojourn in Portugal with his family in The Moon, Come to Earth: Dispatches from Lisbon. Originally published as a series of dispatches that first appeared on the McSweeney's website as "Philip Graham Spends a Year in Lisbon," his new book is an expanded version of those essays that, as Keller writes, offers readers "the chance to travel alongside the Graham family as they explore a city, a language, a culture and, of course, themselves." Keller's review begins:

Ask me to peruse your vacation snapshots and I'll probably do so, but reluctantly, and not without an inward wince.

Ask me to listen to your vacation stories—or better yet, to read them—and I'll happily oblige.

Photos are simple and static and crudely bullying; they force you to see things from a single, inert perspective. Stories, though, are complex, supple and surprising. That's why The Moon, Come to Earth: Dispatches from Lisbon is so enchanting: It dances and sighs. It twitches and hums and stumbles and then rights itself, with a winsome smile. It's like a living thing, filled with desire and uncertainty and joy and regret.

Continue reading Keller's review on the Chicago Tribune website. Also read an excerpt and see the author's website.

"To say I was in love will vex the reader beyond endurance, but he must remember that being in love had a peculiar meaning for me. … It meant a desire to lay my personality at someone's feet as a puppy deposits a slobbery ball; it meant a non-stop daydream, a planning of surprises, an exchange of confidences, a giving of presents, an agony of expectation, a delirium of impatience, ending with the premonition of boredom more drastic than the loneliness which it set out to cure."

Cyril Connolly (1903—74) the author of Enemies of Promise, was one of the most influential critics of his time, who wrote for such publications as the New Statesman, the Observer, and the Sunday Times.