BOOKS

Scoundrel: How a Convicted Murderer Persuaded the Women Who Loved Him, the Conservative Establishment, and the Courts to Set Him Free by Sarah Weinman Ecco, $28.99

In the 1960s, Edgar Smith, in prison and sentenced to death for the murder of teenager Victoria Zielinski, struck up a correspondence with William F. Buckley, the founder of National Review. Buckley, who refused to believe that a man who supported the neoconservative movement could have committed such a heinous crime, began to advocate not only for Smith’s life to be spared but also for his sentence to be overturned.

So begins a bizarre and tragic tale of midcentury America. Sarah Weinman’s Scoundrel leads us through the twists of fate and fortune that brought Smith to freedom, book deals, fame, and eventually to attempting murder again. In Smith, Weinman has uncovered a psychopath who slipped his way into public acclaim and acceptance before crashing down to earth once again.

Fake by Erica Katz Harper, $26.99

Emma Caan is a fake. She’s a forger, an artist who specializes in nineteenth-century paintings. But she isn’t a criminal; her copies are commissioned by museums and ultra-wealthy collectors protecting their investments. When oligarch art collector Leonard Sobetsky appears with an invitation, Emma sees a way out—access to the kind of money she needs to support her unstable and recently widowed mother.

But every invitation incurs an obligation—and Emma isn’t prepared for what’s to come. As she’s pulled further into Leonard’s opulent scene, she will discover what’s lurking beneath the glitz and glamour and wonder how much of her carefully curated life is just as fake as her forgeries.

Davos Man by Peter S. Goodman Custom House, $29.99

The history of the last half century in America, Europe, and other major economies is in large part the story of wealth flowing upward. The most affluent people emerged from capitalism’s triumph in the Cold War to loot the peace, depriving governments of the resources needed to serve their people, and leaving them tragically unprepared for the worst pandemic in a century.

Drawing on decades of experience covering the global economy, award-winning journalist Peter S. Goodman profiles five representative “Davos Men”—members of the billionaire class–chronicling how their shocking exploitation of the global pandemic has hastened a 50year trend of wealth centralization.

Goodman’s rollicking and revelatory exposé of the global billionaire class reveals their hidden impact on nearly every aspect of modern society.

Love Unfu*ked by Gary John Bishop HarperOne, $23.99

No matter how much advice we get or how much work we do on our “stuff,” nothing ever seems to make the difference. The truth of it is, you’re woefully illequipped for one of the most life-defining things you will ever take on— being in a committed relationship. Whether you’re currently in one, want to be in one, half in–half out, getting over one, married, single, separated, divorced, or just overwhelmed with the whole thing, let’s cut through the morass of relationship schtick and put you back in charge. No flowery BS, no woo-woo strategies, systems, or techniques, just real talk, for real people who want a real relationship in their life that actually works.

Defenestrate by Renee Branum Bloomsbury, $26.00

Marta and her twin brother Nick have always been haunted and fascinated by an ancestral legend that holds that members of their family are doomed to various types of falls. And when their own family collapses in the wake of a revelation and a resulting devastating fight with their Catholic mother, the twins move to Prague, the city in which their “falling curse” began. There, Marta and Nick try to forge a new life for themselves. But their ties to the past and each other prove difficult to disentangle, and when they ultimately return to their midwestern home and Nick falls from a balcony himself, Marta is forced to confront the truths they’ve hidden from each other and themselves.

Ingeniously and unforgettably narrated by Marta as she reflects on all the ways there are to fall—from defenestration in nineteenth century Prague to the pratfalls of her childhood idol Buster Keaton, from falling in love to falling midflight from an airplane—Defenestrate is a deeply original, gorgeous novel about the power of stories and the strange, malleable bonds that hold families together.

Violeta [English Edition] by Isabel Allende Ballantine, $28.00

This sweeping novel tells the epic story of a woman whose life spans 100 years and bears witness to the greatest upheavals of the 20th century. Violeta comes into the world on a stormy day in 1920, the first girl in a family with five boisterous sons. From the start, her life is marked by extraordinary events, for the ripples of the Great War are still being felt, even as the Spanish flu arrives on the shores of her South American homeland almost at the moment of her birth.

She tells her story in the form of a letter to someone she loves above all others, recounting times of devastating heartbreak and passionate affairs, poverty and wealth, terrible loss and immense joy. Her life is shaped by some of the most important events of history: the fight for women’s rights, the rise and fall of tyrants, and ultimately not one, but two pandemics.

Through the eyes of a woman whose unforgettable passion, determination, and sense of humor carry her through a lifetime of upheaval, Isabel Allende once more brings us an epic that is both fiercely inspiring and deeply emotional. n

<8 THE LIST /VALLEY

and Harriet Potters. (244 Main St.; 610-928-8600; letsplaybooks.com)

Housed in a house with a wraparound porch, Now & Then Books could be mistaken for the library of a very hungry, very ecumenical bibliophile. Mazes of shelves contain volumes by and/or about the likes of Andy Warhol, Joyce Carol Oates and the Beatles. A room packed with paperbacks is nirvana for fans of Nora Roberts and John Patterson. Domestic bliss is fostered by a poster for an exhibit of works by Kutztown native Keith Haring, doorway shelves filled with “Simpsons” figurines, and books stacked by a sink. (56 S. 4th St.; 610-966-3114)

Apport Used Books is named for the paranormal movement of objects, usually during séances. The title is apropos for the power of reading to shift reality. A long, high room, very white and very bright, holds Lou Reed’s collected lyrics and sketches by R. Crumb, the gonzo cartoonist and obscure-blues caretaker. A vintage rack of vintage paperbacks rotates a fair share of classics, including Hubert Selby Jr.’s Last Exit to Brooklyn and Dick Gregory’s From the Back of the Bus. Chalk-and-cheese volumes—Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood; E.L. Doctorow’s Loon Lake—are placed in a whimsical tower of “popular reads with nice prices.” And where else can you find a book store in a block-long 19th-century building with half-moon windows, ornamented like a Spanish galleon? (12 S. 4th St.; 610-428-8994)

Lee and Virginia Graver devoted 40-plus years to transforming a summer retreat in Bushkill Township into a nature estate. The Graver Arboretum, their 1994 gift to Muhlenberg College, Lee’s alma mater, is a wondrous sanctuary/lab for recreational walkers, bird watchers, tree lovers and environmental students. A gentle gravel path meanders through a fetching forest with gloriously filtered light, a mysterious Walden-like pond and rhododendrons ringing extinct sawmill pits operated by Lee’s great uncle. A gravel-and-grass avenue splits clusters of enchanting conifers. Nikko fir branches spiral like staircases; the limbs of Western White pines snake like Medusa’s braids. Seemingly imported from the Berkshires, the Graver is a cultivated wilderness that sharpens your senses and gets you lost in plain sight. (1581 Bushkill Center Rd., Bath; 610-342-6783; muhlenberg.edu) n

the same material over and over again and carries the inflatable pigs everywhere he goes. But you can’t hate Pink Floyd, and by extension, you can’t hate Pink’s drummer and co-founder Nick Mason, who hits the Merriam Theater with his Saucerful of Secrets ensemble Tuesday, January 25. Mason & Co go for the old Pink Floyd songs long before their days as prog hitmakers, with some truly hard psychedelic instrumentation. Nice.

All 64th Grammy Award nominations, logged from recordings released between September 1, 2020 and September 30, 2021, are well-deserved prizes and accolades even if they are, on occasion, not so sensible. But when the January 31 awards ceremony gets broadcast live from the Staples Center in Los Angeles, you’re going to want to turn up the volume. There will be a lot of Philadelphia in the room. You can look up specific nominations—and in some cases, such as Philly’s Michele Zauner’s Japanese Breakfast and local Jazmine Sullivan, there are several top-tier prizes to be had—but the list of names up for Grammys from the area is stellar. They include a Best Music Film nod for Questlove’s Summer of Soul doc, a Best Choral Performance for The Crossing, Best Opera Recordings for Opera Philadelphia’s Corrado Rovaris and Yannick Nézet-Séguin, a Best Historical Album for the late great mistress of stately song, Philadelphia’s Marian Anderson, as well as Pink, Benj Pasek & Justin Paul, Kevin Hart, Christian McBride Big Band, the Sun Ra Arkestra (the first nomination for Germantown’s own in 70 years), Elle King, Diplo’s Major Lazer, and Marshmello. Prepare to stay awake for this Grammys, long or not. n mean by undefinable. It’s organic. We care about and respect each other. We don’t see each other much when we’re not working, but we keep in touch with text and funny Instagrams. I think that’s how we’ve been able to sustain a relationship for 12 years and years to come.

You had wanted to be a part of the music business for a long time before Best Coast, but didn’t want to be a pop star, a Taylor Swift. What do you recall about coming into the business of music and keeping true to your values?

When I was really young and started writing music, I was immediately courted by major labels, people outside of my world, which then was very DIY punk. I wanted to hold onto that. I followed my instincts and my feelings which led me to create Best Coast. I moved to New York at 21 to go to college and stayed for like maybe a year. I realized that I didn’t want to be in New York or go to college. I wanted to go home and start a band. I knew Bob, checked to see if he was interested, and two years later, we’re touring the world as Best Coast charting on Billboard and appearing on David Letterman. It all came down to instinct. A very free-flowing, organic experience. Following a feeling. It was all something that seemingly could change my life. Best Coast would have never happened, and I wouldn’t be where I am today if, at 18, I had taken up with a major label. I always try to nurture that relationship with myself—the one where I find and figure out what is best for me, even if it means falling on my face first. Paying attention to what my inner voice and truth are saying has always been crucial to I am. And we never felt as if we had to be a way that wasn’t us. We go where we take ourselves; 12 years into our career, we are true to our musicians and friends. The music that we made at the beginning had that feel of Phil Spector and the Beach Boys. While some of what I’m writing now has a 90s vibe, having Bob write more means there is an 80s metal feel to everything. Not metal metal metal. But some metal.

Thinking about the past that you’ve been so blunt in discussing, some of which was brutal and unhealthy, is having to perform those Best Coast songs on tour tough on you?

I think there is a disconnect with some of our songs, especially some of the earliest one’s like “Boyfriend,” a perfect example. That’s a track that people demand to hear when we go out live, and we play it. When I sing it, though, I don’t feel like the same person. But I’m an energy person, and the energy that’s conjured up by that song and other early songs of ours—how our audience feels, even how I feel performing it—I can still feel connected to those moments in that way. Sometimes it can feel disjointed playing a song as a 35-year-old woman that I initially wrote in my bedroom at age 22. But I’m not trying to tap so hard into who I was at 22 or even 34. I don’t feel a need to replicate that feeling. I said what I said at that time, and now I can experience all that through different eyes. That’s the cool thing about art. It can evolve and change as you evolve and change. n

<8 THE LIST /CITY < 13 THE REIMAGINING OF BEST COAST

<5 LOVE ON WHEELS

One day Cheryl walked past me as I was getting ready to leave and asked/told me to give her a ride. The next thing I knew she was on the seat behind me with her arms around my waist. There is nothing I remember about the rest of that experience—I’m guessing those neurons got fried crisp—but there was no grand ending. I dropped her off at the student parking lot and she went back to her circle of friends, never to say boo to me again. I found my way home with a brain reduced to carbon.

I have a few recollections of the less romantic side of motorcycles, such as when I dumped it on those angled railroad tracks at Bristol Road, and putting newspapers inside my jacket on really cold days. I wasn’t about to go through another winter like that, so I sold it and bought the car I’d had my eyes on at the gas station in Chalfont. An Alfa Romeo.

Back then, there were regular cars and there were foreign cars. However, there weren’t many foreign car dealers or places to get them repaired. A 1957 Alfa Romeo Giulietta convertible was a rare sight, and one for sale—$300, if I remember correctly—was irresistible.

The Giulietta was a small, sexy, nimble, Italian sportscar that today would set you back two hundred times what I paid, and that would be in modest condition. But you would have one of the finest sportscars of a golden era. Mine had its issues, but it ran. The Triumph and the Alfa lit a flame that still glows quite brightly. Engine-matching, apex-clipping, catching the rear end—my heritage is German, but the adrenal gland is Italian-English.

That’s a long explanation for how quickly I said yes when I was asked to paint an Alpha Romeo Giulietta as a birthday present for the owner. This one had spent most of its days prepared for competition, but there isn’t much difference between that and the one I had.

The Giulietta is a beauty. Gazing at the fender lines, the proportions, the gauges, the red leather seats nearly flat on the floor, took me on a mesmeric journey to a place more than fifty years and forty pounds ago. It uncorked some wonderful memories from when you actually drove cars, using both feet and both hands. When you had to pay attention. I loved every minute of it, then and now. Painting-days like this don’t come any better.

A friend recently tried to get me interested in a Lucid. It’s an electric vehicle that looks much like all upscale electric cars, only sexier than a Tesla. It has more bells and whistles than you can imagine. You don’t shift—you press the pedal, and it takes off. If you get the top Lucid, that launch happens courtesy of 1,100 horsepower, instantly. I’m sure it has a bunch of sophisticated digital systems dedicated to keeping you from ending up in a ravine.

Given the choice, the wherewithal, and the opportunity, which vehicle would I buy today: the Lucid, the Triumph, or the ‘57 Alfa Romeo Giulietta? The bike is out; those days are gone. And forget the young, fast, and flashy stuff. I’d get the car you drive. The sixty-five-year-old. In a heartbeat. And just go. Arrivederci. n

Solution to December puzzle, HEAD START. Solution to this month’s puzzle, JOB FARE