Fog, a cloud that touches the ground, marks the fuzzy and shifting boundary of just how much (or little) we are willing to tolerate the natural world. Viewed from beyond the fog line, it is picturesque, the stuff of postcards and viral videos; yet from within it is a menace, responsible for travel delays, accidents—including the deadliest airline disaster in history—and is a vessel of terror and contagion. Stephen Sparks traces the brief history of fog from the mid-19th century, when Oscar Wilde claimed that fog was invented, to the 21st century Pacific coast, where scientists believe fog may be going extinct, to reveal a history of our conflicting desires to eliminate and appreciate fog.
Public enemy. Crucial macronutrient. Health risk. Punchline. Moneymaker. Epidemic. Sexual fetish. Moral failing. Necessary bodily organ. Conveyor of flavor. Freak-show spectacle. Never mind the stereotype, fat is never sedentary: its definitions, identities, and meanings are manifold and in constant motion. In a culture in which fat is demonized in medicine and public policy, adored by chefs and nutritional faddists (and let’s face it, most of us who eat), simultaneously desired and abhorred when it comes to sex, and continually courted by a multi-billion-dollar fitness and weight-loss industry, it’s ironic that for so many people, “fat” is nothing more than an insult or a wail of despair. In Hanne Blank’s book we find fat as state, as possession, as metaphor, as symptom, as object of desire, intellectual and carnal. Here, “feeling fat” and literal fat merge, blurring the boundaries and infusing one another with richer, fattier meanings.
The electric candle and plastic flower, faux fur, artificial sweeteners and meat analogues, Elvis impersonators, prosthetics. Imitation this, false that. Humans have been replacing and improving upon genuine articles for millennia—from the wooden and cartonnage toes of the pharaohs to the celebrity impressions of Jay Pharoah. So why do people have such disdain for so-called “fakes”? Katherine Stevens’s Fake describes the history, the economics, and the psychology of imitations, as well as our relationships to them—particularly today. After all, fakes aren’t going anywhere; they seem to be going everywhere.
A 3-year-old asks her physician father about his job, and his inability to relay a succinct and accurate answer inspires a critical look at the profession of modern medicine. In sorting through how patients, insurance companies, advertising agencies, filmmakers, and comedians misconstrue a doctor’s role, Andrew Bomback, M.D. realizes that even doctors struggle to define their profession. As the author struggles to unravel how much of doctoring is role-playing, artifice, and bluffing, he examines the career of his father, a legendary pediatrician on the verge of retirement, and the health of his infant son, who is suffering from a vague assortment of gastrointestinal symptoms. At turns serious, comedic, analytical, and confessional, Doctor offers an unflinching look at what it means to be a physician today.
Bicycles promise safe, low-cost, environmentally-friendly transportation for billions of people. But the bicycle can only be understood in relation to transit infrastructure and spatial planning. Jonathan Maskit looks at bicycles as environmental, urban, and everyday objects. The bicycle, a seemingly simple machine, quickly becomes complicated when it collides with public safety, politics, and the shape of cities.