Fans of Harry Crews and Carl Hiaasen will enjoy Russell’s entertaining, if lightweight, yarn.



A picaresque, amiable ramble through arguably the weirdest state in the country. “You gotta understand,” writes essayist Russell. “Florida exists in the future continuous sense. Florida will be a personal paradise, yours to own as soon as we fill in this hellish bog.” It’s a conditional place, too, its survival contingent on the mercy of the rising sea. The author teamed up with a tough-willed Marine veteran and another buddy to wander through the entire Sunshine State, inspired by the politician Lawton Chiles, who, as an unknown candidate, walked most of the peninsula in order to introduce himself to voters. Their adventures lean toward both the madcap and the mundane. On the former front, for instance, Russell chronicles how they were intercepted by a heavily armed, apparently heavily drugged woman whose suspicion was aroused by their shopping cart, laden with cameras for a documentary they were making about “the peninsula that stupefies, sickens, infuriates, and finally embarrasses the rest of the nation.” Satisfied that their intentions weren’t nefarious, she gamely noted, “You can lick me up and down if you want. I’ve been in the ocean.” Russell politely declined. They also wandered into nests of Trump supporters to find that he’s admired because he “eats KFC on his plane,” just like a regular Joe. The political analysis seldom goes deeper, and the narrative is often superficial, a kind of gee-whiz take on a place that, as journalist and Florida native Craig Pittman has written, exceeds every other place in strangeness. And why should that be? Russell doesn’t deep-dive, borrowing instead from T.D. Allman, another journalist, to note that people who come to Florida have tended to want to re-create the societies and places they’ve left behind, if with a slightly hallucinatory quality—which seems just right. Fans of Harry Crews and Carl Hiaasen will enjoy Russell’s entertaining, if lightweight, yarn.

Pub Date: July 7, 2020

ISBN: 978-0-525-52138-9

Page Count: 320

Publisher: Knopf

Review Posted Online: April 26, 2020

Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 15, 2020

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A blissfully vicarious, heartfelt glimpse into the life of a Manhattan burlesque dancer.


A former New York City dancer reflects on her zesty heyday in the 1970s.

Discovered on a Manhattan street in 2020 and introduced on Stanton’s Humans of New York Instagram page, Johnson, then 76, shares her dynamic history as a “fiercely independent” Black burlesque dancer who used the stage name Tanqueray and became a celebrated fixture in midtown adult theaters. “I was the only black girl making white girl money,” she boasts, telling a vibrant story about sex and struggle in a bygone era. Frank and unapologetic, Johnson vividly captures aspects of her former life as a stage seductress shimmying to blues tracks during 18-minute sets or sewing lingerie for plus-sized dancers. Though her work was far from the Broadway shows she dreamed about, it eventually became all about the nightly hustle to simply survive. Her anecdotes are humorous, heartfelt, and supremely captivating, recounted with the passion of a true survivor and the acerbic wit of a weathered, street-wise New Yorker. She shares stories of growing up in an abusive household in Albany in the 1940s, a teenage pregnancy, and prison time for robbery as nonchalantly as she recalls selling rhinestone G-strings to prostitutes to make them sparkle in the headlights of passing cars. Complemented by an array of revealing personal photographs, the narrative alternates between heartfelt nostalgia about the seedier side of Manhattan’s go-go scene and funny quips about her unconventional stage performances. Encounters with a variety of hardworking dancers, drag queens, and pimps, plus an account of the complexities of a first love with a drug-addled hustler, fill out the memoir with personality and candor. With a narrative assist from Stanton, the result is a consistently titillating and often moving story of human struggle as well as an insider glimpse into the days when Times Square was considered the Big Apple’s gloriously unpolished underbelly. The book also includes Yee’s lush watercolor illustrations.

A blissfully vicarious, heartfelt glimpse into the life of a Manhattan burlesque dancer.

Pub Date: July 12, 2022

ISBN: 978-1-250-27827-2

Page Count: 192

Publisher: St. Martin's

Review Posted Online: July 28, 2022

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If the authors are serious, this is a silly, distasteful book. If they are not, it’s a brilliant satire.


The authors have created a sort of anti-Book of Virtues in this encyclopedic compendium of the ways and means of power.

Everyone wants power and everyone is in a constant duplicitous game to gain more power at the expense of others, according to Greene, a screenwriter and former editor at Esquire (Elffers, a book packager, designed the volume, with its attractive marginalia). We live today as courtiers once did in royal courts: we must appear civil while attempting to crush all those around us. This power game can be played well or poorly, and in these 48 laws culled from the history and wisdom of the world’s greatest power players are the rules that must be followed to win. These laws boil down to being as ruthless, selfish, manipulative, and deceitful as possible. Each law, however, gets its own chapter: “Conceal Your Intentions,” “Always Say Less Than Necessary,” “Pose as a Friend, Work as a Spy,” and so on. Each chapter is conveniently broken down into sections on what happened to those who transgressed or observed the particular law, the key elements in this law, and ways to defensively reverse this law when it’s used against you. Quotations in the margins amplify the lesson being taught. While compelling in the way an auto accident might be, the book is simply nonsense. Rules often contradict each other. We are told, for instance, to “be conspicuous at all cost,” then told to “behave like others.” More seriously, Greene never really defines “power,” and he merely asserts, rather than offers evidence for, the Hobbesian world of all against all in which he insists we live. The world may be like this at times, but often it isn’t. To ask why this is so would be a far more useful project.

If the authors are serious, this is a silly, distasteful book. If they are not, it’s a brilliant satire.

Pub Date: Sept. 1, 1998

ISBN: 0-670-88146-5

Page Count: 430

Publisher: Viking

Review Posted Online: May 20, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 15, 1998

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