Three college friends, Mariella Marciano (now an opera singer), Grace Townsend (a minister), and Elin Mackenzie (a corporate lawyer) are joined by a fourth, Jamie Price, one-time nanny for Elin’s daughter. The women have been close for decades, texting regularly and meeting periodically for weekend book retreats. But during one weekend in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, when they’ve been joined by their daughters, there’s a tragic accident. After a day of drinking, Jamie’s twins, Kathleen and Meg, head out for ice cream on a rainy night and their jeep flips and crashes into a tree. Fast forward three years, and the women come together again for a book club weekend, this time in Mariella’s vacation home—a villa in Lake Como. The twins no longer speak to each other, and the other women are on tenterhooks worrying about what might happen during the trip. But what follows are long days of food, love, and personal growth as the friends talk books, hopes, dreams, and the future. Still, each keeps part of herself hidden, while contemplating sharing their secrets with the others on the final night of the trip. This is a book seemingly made for the screen, with lots of bickering, wine, and dishy revelations. With such a seemingly overfull cast, the authors do well to make each character memorable and distinct—but none of them has much depth. And rather than focusing on mother-daughter relationships, as might have been expected, it’s romantic love—both old and new—and the marriages of two of the women that drive the story forward.

Finley the frog’s older siblings constantly mock him due to his small size and lack of athletic ability. While Finley enjoys reading and singing in the choir, he really wants to be an athlete like his brothers, sisters, and cousin. One day, Finley stumbles across a magic flower with three yellow petals, with each one representing a wish; the young frog immediately wishes to be strong. As he is enjoying his newfound strength in the pond, however, a terrifying water snake begins chasing him, and Finley is snatched up in the jaws of a crow. Finley then wishes to cancel his first wish and returns to normal. Later, constant rains threaten to flood the frogs’ town of Croaksville. Despite the selfish pleas of the mayor and council to save their houses, Finley decides to use his last wish to save all of the frogs’ homes. From then on, Finley is treated with respect and learns to appreciate himself, knowing that, “over time, he would grow bigger and stronger.” Lock’s colorful illustrations employ minimal lines and extensive shading to create simple yet effective images that enhance the plot. Dee incorporates numerous wildlife elements to illustrate Finley’s journey toward self-acceptance, which is sure to appeal to animal enthusiasts, but the transition from Finley’s magical adventure to the rain-flooded rescue feels abrupt. While the book’s overarching theme of loving oneself is admirable, the execution unfortunately falls flat.

The author is a neurologist and children’s rights attorney who understands the importance of identifying the factors that affect children struggling to thrive in our modern world. She tackles systemic issues head-on and identifies the five main systems that put children at risk. “Big Food” prioritizes shelf-stability and immediate appeal over health. “Big Pharma” has turned tools for short-term stabilization into “instruments of long-term management.” “Big Medicine” often undermines parents’ own instincts. “Big Government” shoves additives into school lunches, and “Big Media” prizes profits over what is best for the audience. The result of these influences, per Idoko, is a generation of children at risk of becoming disconnected from the innate biological systems intended to regulate and promote their development; their bodies work to compensate for as long as they can, then collapse begins. Such collapse takes the forms of language and social regression, sleep changes, disruptive behavior, withdrawal, and an ever-increasing dependence on the very systems that are causing harm. Many of the interventions the author proposes involve dietary shifts and careful record-keeping as a means to help parents advocate for themselves, even as the systems in place dismiss their concerns (Idoko argues that the path toward a solution relies on parents trusting their instincts). The author’s text is direct and free of jargon as she describes the experiences of parents and offers immediately actionable steps. Idoko effectively articulates the challenge of bridging the gap between parents’ experiences and the scientific establishment: “What can’t be monetized gets underfunded. What’s underfunded looks unproven. What looks unproven gets ignored.” While the nuances of the author’s argument occasionally risk getting lost amid a sea of memorable one-liners (“when rhythm breaks, biology breaks”; “compliance isn’t development”), ultimately, her message is clear: In an age of “Big” systems, parents must trust both the science and themselves.

Jenkins, in the guise of his complicated protagonist Denzel Davis, tells readers that his experience growing up in 1990s Philadelphia was one of “dysfunction, inserting the burdens and curses of my ancestors.” Denzel is constantly beset by circumstances beyond his control; as the author explains, “My grandmother murdered my great-grandmother; my father drowned himself in alcohol; my other grandmother was an uneducated, helpless invalid rooted in rigid traditions.” It’s a brutally frank depiction, powerfully conveying the unholy legacy of institutionalized racism in the United States and its impact on the oppressed. Denzel is not some innocent figure of exemplary nature callously tossed into the gnashing jaws of outrageous fortune to fend for himself—he is actually an extremely flawed character whom many may well argue embraces criminality all too easily, and without much remorse. He views continuing to engage in petty schemes to defraud people (with bogus checks and credit card scams) as simply a necessary course of action given his precarious situation and financial straits. In Jenkins’ stark and briskly paced narrative, readers come to understand that Denzel, for all his brashness and toughness, suffers from profound mental health issues. The work functions as a deft commentary on the way American society dismissively judges those it actively seeks to dehumanize. “Brown evokes images of earth and soil, drawing parallels to poverty and neglect,” the author writes. “It is a color that often goes unnoticed, as dull and repetitive as a song heard too many times. Yet, within this hue lies an unrecognized resilience and strength.” Denzel may not be a saint as he valiantly strives to earn a degree and make it as an artist, but, in the end, his fitful journey registers as heroic.

The author defines collapse as the current era of societal decline: “For thousands of years, various entities have been at play—narratives, groups, and forces—herding humanity towards this moment of reckoning.” This decline, he says, encompasses the world economy, mental health issues, addiction, climate change, and geopolitics, among other topics. Although the author suggests that “unavoidable catastrophe is assured,” we still have productive ways to respond to the “polycrisis,” he asserts. Part 1 situates readers in the current global troubles, aiming to help them recognize that they have cause for deep concern for the planet’s well-being. Part 2 delves deeply into future crises, including compelling scientific data on climate change. Most interestingly, as the author points, “Fossil fuel use hasn’t decreased despite an increase in renewable energy production.” The author uses the term hopium, which he frames as blind faith in technology to solve the world’s problems. Part 3 focuses on potential responses to the polycrisis, relying on wisdom from Native peoples and mutual aid. The most compelling aspect of this book is a chapter debunking common misconceptions about possible solutions: For example, in response to the notion that merely spending more on food production is an easy fix, Quiñonez counters, “Food production is not merely about money. It is impacted by geopolitics, supply chain disruptions, droughts, floods, storms, heat waves, frosts, wars, pests, energy availability, and fertilizer shortages, among other factors.” Still, the book as a whole remains overly abstract, despite its ambition. Parts 1 and 3 lack concrete data and anecdotes to properly situate readers in the author’s claims of a global crisis. Skeptics may also find it difficult to embrace the author’s point of view, as he’s not an expert on the issues at hand, although he notes that “I’ve lived in a specific context with a particular nature and nurture, allowing me to be receptive to these issues while maintaining a relatively clear outlook.”