McCloud sketchily reviews comics history, dissects the anatomy of comics, and meditates on human thought and visual perception. There's something here for lots of people.
His analyses of, say, the components of the creative process, might be debated -- but he invites discussion. Comics readers will learn a thing or two. Comics disparagers or ignorers would be enlightened if someone kindly left this book where they'd scan it.

The important parts of this story could have taken place anywhere, anytime. It isn't about Sunnyvale. It's about a particular family.
There's not a lot of rise; it's more fall, but it's one of the least depressing depressing stories I've read -- not because the author tries to sugarcoat (he doesn't) but because there's no wallowing. The style is graceful and direct. Unhappy things happen but there's a life-goes-on tone. No pity, no agonizing. (Maybe there was in the life, but not in the telling.) That attitude and the good writing make this an enjoyable book about unhappy things. And if you've endured any similarly unhappy events (divorce, illness, disputes, aimlessness, or violence in a fine upstanding family) you'll appreciate the empathy.

Track samples here don't do justice to the disc's entrancing rhythms and intriguing electric violin play. (Only two tracks have vocals.) Some tracks are upbeat, percussive and funky. A couple have hooks that can run in your head for hours. Others are spare, bleak. You might call them "depressing" and avoid them or you might call them "haunting" or just "moody."
I prefer Caryn Lin's Honour the Rain to this CD because it's a little warmer and its title track is an incredibly evocative five minutes of percussion, melody, and changing landscapes.

If you've not read Edgarton's Walking Across Egypt, forget this and go read that. Then read this if you want, but know that WAE is better. WAE is an engaging and warm read; its sequel, Diller, is okay but a little weaker and more forgettable.

WAE centers on a lovable, interesting, cozy old woman and her community; Diller centers on a lovable delinquent young man and his community. (The two characters are in both books. Their worlds intersect.) WAE made more of an impression on me, but this one is not a bad story to while away some hours with.

Some of the essays are lightweight -- e.g. about the meaning of making an audio tape compilation for someone. Some are deeper, about things like father-daughter relationships. The sudden change from one flavor of essay to another can be jarring, but the essays don't suffer for that, just the book as a whole. Some are combinations, like "Music Lessons", about "lessons accidentally learned while pursuing music." The pieces are probably best suited to radio, one at a time during a commute. In book form, they don't achieve full potential. You're not forced to read them in quick succession, but the book format pulls you to do so, and the points that make you laugh and nod are forgotten too quickly. A few of these essays (New Jersey, Chicago and Frank Sinatra) feel like too many words saying too little. But there are some gems of observation.

Excellent storytelling. The combination of high-tech futuristic sci-fi and historical period fiction grabbed me. Halfway through the book I realized that the sci-fi had mostly given way to the historical part (though the sci-fi premise is integral) and in fact for several chapters nothing much happened... and yet for some reason I remained absorbed in the book. It reminds me of reading Agatha Christies, where the storytelling engages you and what differs from book to book is just the setting.

This works like a bible. You can leave it on your shelf or by your bed, and pick it up from time to time, open it to somewhere, and find solace and wisdom. No matter where you start reading, you'll find you've read half a chapter before you know it, even when you only meant to look up one specific little thing. This woman writes like a charm.

I think it's a bonus if you've heard her speak, because you can hear her speaking what's written here, and her delivery is just wonderful. Quite erudite and thoroughly knowledgeable but not even a molecule of pretense. Reading this book gives you the utmost respect for its author, and makes you want to invite her over for lunch as well.

You'll pick it up and read, and then you'll go away from it and go about your busy life. You'll get lost again in diapers or laundry or the ins and outs of your baby's psyche. You'll get worn, or angry. At some point if you remember to dip into the book again, Penelope will remind you where the ground is and where your center is, and you will go be a good parent some more.

Penelope Leach is a Ph.D. psychologist -- she knows her child development. Throughout, she discusses WHY we should do X or Y as parents, and she explains the capacities and limitations of children at each age -- and their experiences, as well as can be known. This is a book absolutely grounded in the best of research. It's really an education in child development.

There are very few better, clearer, writers than Penelope Leach, either.

I imagine there are a lot of parents out there who are at least a little better than they would have been, as parents, for reading this book.

If you have the slightest chance, get it and read it. If you are even considering this as a gift to new parents, it'd be a terrific one.

Around page 20 I figured out I should skip the wordy Introduction. It would make a better Conclusion -- too abstract to follow if you don't already have some factual underpinnings.

On to the rest of the book. Chapter 2 is sort of an overview. Remaining chapters cover "Enterprise", "Careers", "Distinctions" (about social status), "Intimate Relations", "Reform" (religious and moral), and "A New National Identity". The material is undeniably interesting -- dueling newspaper editors (and dueling everyone else), downtrodden young people finding their way, cultural battles between north and south, Federalists vs. republicans, the inception of careers and jobs that had not existed before... and did you know that separate right and left shoes were an invention of this recent time period? Where Appleby stocks the book with primary material, it's engaging. Where she talks in generalities, there are way too many sentences that have to be read several times to sink in. "The intense politicization of public life from political and institutional controversies accustomed Americans to public disclosure." (p. 41) Is this circular, or what? I imagine the book is most difficult for those unfamiliar with the material, a little easier for those who have some background.

One other complaint: The reader is often left to wonder how things got to be as Appleby describes. For instance: "Jefferson and his supporters democratized American politics... by implementing policies that enabled people to work out the terms of their lives with minimal interference from family, church, or state." What policies? Not one example is given; there's nothing for the reader to grip. I'm intrigued by the statement but I'm left hanging.

On the whole, it's a worthwhile bunch of material, and the style is sometimes engaging. Just be prepared to deal with the passages that are less engaging.

Be forewarned that panic does not come into this book until page 83 (of 208). Also be forewarned that it's written at maybe a sixth-grade reading level. (Neither of these is necessarily a bad thing.)

It's a simplistic and lengthy testimonial. There are some reconstructed dialogues that feel artificial, some of the chronology is hard to follow, and people appear out of nowhere or disappear after being identified in detail.

The first 82 pages are mainly football, with lots of numbers and stats. There's an entire chapter on his sausage business that reads like a promotional pamphlet: "All of our meals are precooked and specially sealed with a newly developed technology to keep them fresh. Customers only have to pop them into a microwave oven for three minutes before serving. These meals have become big sellers for us because they are convenient and taste great" etc. (p. 153). And not only that, but "Today I feel as confident about my ability to make a great-tasting meat product as I used to feel about my ability to run with the football. I think both are God-given talents" (p. 153). There's nothing to tie this to the supposed theme of the book.

We get glimpses of Campbell's "pride" (anger at a doctor's suggestion that he try Prozac, sudden disgust with one who asks him to ingest caffeine as an experiment, lashing out at doctors who, attempting to arrive at a diagnosis, inquire whether he uses drugs), glimpses of his warm feelings, and mere hints at "fear of failure" and an "emotional man". Just when he starts to tell us something interesting, he quits and moves on.

You get the feeling this guy wants to talk about it but he doesn't want to talk about it.

This is also hinted at by some contradictions. In one chapter he can't attend banquets because crowds bother him, but a few pages later he says "My panic disorder has no effect on my ability to function in the business world" (p. 149). If these are both true, some discussion would help.

Many panic sufferers would like to wave this book around as evidence that panic does not equate with general wimpiness. It's just disappointing that more substance isn't given here.

For the first 20 pages, I thought I'd write a 3-star review. By the end of the book, the emotional expressiveness had appeared, the edge was there, some good plotlines had developed. Toomey gets in some great jabs when the gang visits the Titanic. The hairless beach apes are always good for a laugh. Once you get to know the characters -- spouses Sherman and Megan, a hedonistic polar bear, an earnest sea turtle, a crabby crab... you start to have fun with them. This strip could go places.