Here are some of the books I’ve read (and a few movies, too). Feel free to quibble with the opinions, but please keep it clean.
- Micro-Review #167: A House in the Sky
by Amanda Lindhout and Sara Corbett In 2008, A Canadian journalist and Australian photographer are kidnapped by bandits in Mogadishu, leading to an ordeal that many people wouldn’t survive. This is a harrowing memoir of a kidnapping and confinement, but it’s also a striking account of a person both doomed and blessed by an insatiable case of Travelitis. Some of Lindhout’s most memorable moments occur pre-kidnapping, as she traverses the world, collecting countries like fridge magnets. It takes a certain type of personality to wander alone in tribal areas and failed states (especially for a woman). Did she really have to go to Somalia in the first place? Totally. There’s an ennobling strength of character that sometimes leads to trouble, but that also takes on and conquers the darkest types of adversity. This is an absorbing read from start to finish.
- Micro-Review #166: The Long Walk
by Slavomir Rawicz I was halfway through reading this book when a friend informed me that this “true story” of a 4,000-mile trek across Asia to escape a Russian gulag during World War II was alleged to have been made up. I kept reading anyway before looking into the claim.
The story: Rawicz and six other prisoners walk out of Camp 303 outside Irkutsk during a snow storm. They then face many brands of privation during a slog past Lake Baikal and through Mongolia and the Himalayas before finding safety in India. For the most part, the trek is compelling and believable, an uplifting story of courage and companionship, until an encounter with two Himalayan sasquatches (seriously) kind of makes you cock your head and squint.
My conclusion: the evidence does suggest Rawicz was never in a gulag, and no one has been able to corroborate anything he writes, so this is likely a work of fiction. Does it matter? Yes. The novelist’s mantra—“Never let the truth get in the way of a good story”—only works if you know you’re dealing with fiction. If this book had been marketed as an adventure tale, it wouldn’t have struck nearly the same chord. You’ll probably enjoy it only if you’re absolutely determined to believe.
- Micro-Review #165: The False Prophet
by Claire Booth Taylor Helzer was raised a devout Mormon, a wunderkind of the faith, fast-tracked for a life on the pulpit. So how does he go from religious prodigy to stockbroker and New Age dabbler and then to conman and mass murderer?
Claire Booth’s treatment of Helzer’s story is clear-eyed and detailed. It doesn’t pigeonhole Helzer or sensationalize his life and deeds (even if the book’s cover does). It tracks Helzer’s growth with what looks like journalistic fairness. Without seeking to indict the Mormon church, it also indicts it (or we do, once we absorb the facts). It lacks the range of Jon Krakauer’s Under the Banner of Heaven and the urgency of Netflix’s Evil Influencer, but a common thread runs through all three works. Too much religion in an insular community can be a dangerous thing. This is one of the good true crime books on the market.
- Micro-Review #164: No Ordinary Assignment
by Jane Ferguson In an era full of war-reporter memoirs, this is one of the better ones. It comes across as honest and objective, which is an accomplishment given the emotional nature of the author’s job.
Born and raised during “the Troubles” in Northern Ireland, Ferguson learns about war before most of us do. As a young journalist scrounging to break into the business despite the drawback of being a female with only average looks, she knows the odds of getting paid to cover wars for television are long. But she perseveres, along the way falling in love with pre-war Yemen and never losing sight of the goal, which is to cover not wars, but the people in them.
Ferguson’s personal journey aside, this book serves as a refresher on recent Middle East history, from a still-functioning Lebanon to the glorious hopes of the Arab Spring and the crushing weight of entrenched autocratic tendencies. All of this is synthesized and served in a way that won’t alienate history-challenged readers. I give it the proverbial two thumbs up.
- Micro-Review #163: Swimming to Cambodia
by Spalding Gray This slim volume is a transcription of Gray’s stage monologues about his time on the set of THE KILLING FIELDS in Thailand in the early 1980s.
As an almost aggressively introspective New York stage actor scrambling for film jobs, Gray is out of place in the world of film—especially when the movie is about genocide and is being shot in a third world country. Still, he goes to Thailand in search of “the perfect moment,” a flash of ultimate poetic understanding.
Does this type of literary self-indulgence hold up well in 2025? Very much so. The psychoanalytical ruminations are scented with ’80s therapy-speak, but they’re also infused with a humor that’s both amusingly self-deprecating and undeniably intelligent. The book is a breezy, stimulating read, complete with Hollywood gossip and a surprisingly fascinating character arc. It won’t give you your own perfect moment, but it’ll put you in a good frame of mind.
