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LAURA BUSH

AN INTIMATE PORTRAIT OF THE FIRST LADY

Why sully or smash icons when it’s so fun to make new ones out of Silly Putty?

The Bushes are wonderful; the Clintons are not.

Kessler—once an investigative journalist (Washington Post, Wall Street Journal), now a White House apologist (A Matter of Character, 2004, not reviewed)—tells the authorized story of Laura Lane Welch, who married George W. Bush in 1977. Quoting authorities ranging from childhood friends to political allies to the Lone Ranger (really), the intrepid author discovers that Laura wears Cover Girl makeup and Oscar de la Renta gowns. At 17, she ran a stop sign and killed a classmate, but she wasn’t speeding, and the sign wasn’t all that easy to see, you know? She grew up in segregated communities and attended segregated schools. So what? Some of her best friends are . . . you know. An ancestor was named Wiseman. Sounds Jewish but probably isn’t. (Whew!) She used to smoke (still cheats occasionally). She is pro-choice, but on policy matters, she defers to Bushie (her down-home hypocorism for GWB). Bushie himself is like Lincoln, or maybe even Ronald Reagan, and if he’d been president way back whenever it was, the Holocaust wouldn’t have been all that bad. Bushie drank a lot, once, but so do a lot of other people. Laura has read just about every book there is. (Jacqueline Kennedy, by comparison, was a dilettante.) The Clintons ran the White House like a fraternity—greasy old pizza boxes everywhere, people staying up late, wearing jeans. And both Clintons were unkind to the help. Bushie didn’t like Peter Jennings (he was so critical), but the president prayed for him anyhow. Laura—unlike Hillary—keeps her influence quiet and has much better taste in interior decoration. At age 22, the Bush twins were “knockout gorgeous and outrageously charming.” Sure, Jenna drinks a little and used someone’s else’s ID once. Big deal. John Kerry lost on the character issue.

Why sully or smash icons when it’s so fun to make new ones out of Silly Putty?

Pub Date: April 4, 2006

ISBN: 0-385-51621-5

Page Count: 288

Publisher: Doubleday

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2006

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NIGHT

The author's youthfulness helps to assure the inevitable comparison with the Anne Frank diary although over and above the...

Elie Wiesel spent his early years in a small Transylvanian town as one of four children. 

He was the only one of the family to survive what Francois Maurois, in his introduction, calls the "human holocaust" of the persecution of the Jews, which began with the restrictions, the singularization of the yellow star, the enclosure within the ghetto, and went on to the mass deportations to the ovens of Auschwitz and Buchenwald. There are unforgettable and horrifying scenes here in this spare and sombre memoir of this experience of the hanging of a child, of his first farewell with his father who leaves him an inheritance of a knife and a spoon, and of his last goodbye at Buchenwald his father's corpse is already cold let alone the long months of survival under unconscionable conditions. 

The author's youthfulness helps to assure the inevitable comparison with the Anne Frank diary although over and above the sphere of suffering shared, and in this case extended to the death march itself, there is no spiritual or emotional legacy here to offset any reader reluctance.

Pub Date: Jan. 16, 2006

ISBN: 0374500010

Page Count: 120

Publisher: Hill & Wang

Review Posted Online: Oct. 7, 2011

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2006

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WHEN BREATH BECOMES AIR

A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular...

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A neurosurgeon with a passion for literature tragically finds his perfect subject after his diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.

Writing isn’t brain surgery, but it’s rare when someone adept at the latter is also so accomplished at the former. Searching for meaning and purpose in his life, Kalanithi pursued a doctorate in literature and had felt certain that he wouldn’t enter the field of medicine, in which his father and other members of his family excelled. “But I couldn’t let go of the question,” he writes, after realizing that his goals “didn’t quite fit in an English department.” “Where did biology, morality, literature and philosophy intersect?” So he decided to set aside his doctoral dissertation and belatedly prepare for medical school, which “would allow me a chance to find answers that are not in books, to find a different sort of sublime, to forge relationships with the suffering, and to keep following the question of what makes human life meaningful, even in the face of death and decay.” The author’s empathy undoubtedly made him an exceptional doctor, and the precision of his prose—as well as the moral purpose underscoring it—suggests that he could have written a good book on any subject he chose. Part of what makes this book so essential is the fact that it was written under a death sentence following the diagnosis that upended his life, just as he was preparing to end his residency and attract offers at the top of his profession. Kalanithi learned he might have 10 years to live or perhaps five. Should he return to neurosurgery (he could and did), or should he write (he also did)? Should he and his wife have a baby? They did, eight months before he died, which was less than two years after the original diagnosis. “The fact of death is unsettling,” he understates. “Yet there is no other way to live.”

A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular clarity.

Pub Date: Jan. 19, 2016

ISBN: 978-0-8129-8840-6

Page Count: 248

Publisher: Random House

Review Posted Online: Sept. 29, 2015

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015

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