Word: detailism
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Hardy souls who crave still more detail on the current tobacco wars may want to dip into The Cigarette Papers (University of California Press; 539 pages; $29.95), a new study of the Brown & Williamson documents that were leaked to antismoking activist Stanton Glantz. Next month will also see the publication of Smokescreen: The Truth Behind the Tobacco Industry Cover-Up (Addison-Wesley; 288 pages; $22) by New York Times reporter Philip J. Hilts...
...penchant for improving on the truth, most of his findings were legitimate and remarkable. No doubt remains that Troy existed, or that the mound known to Turks as Hissarlik is the site of the ancient city. Says Traill: "The great majority of Schliemann's reporting was borne out in detail after detail by subsequent archaeologists...
Mistry, a Bombay-born Zoroastrian, or Parsi, who moved to Toronto in 1975, has long distinguished himself as a rigorous humanitarian who can re-create from afar every last rending detail of his clamorous hometown. His books are living rooms that open up onto whole worlds. And with characteristic deliberation, he has steadily moved from a first collection of stories (Swimming Lessons) to a prizewinning mid-length novel (Such a Long Journey) to this new epic, which is worthy of the 19th century masters of tragic realism, from Hardy to Balzac. In response, perhaps, to a world that...
With its evenhanded blend of public spectacle and intimate detail, Sarah Bradford's new biography, Elizabeth (Farrar, Straus & Giroux; 564 pages; $30), is rumored to have nettled the Queen when published in Britain recently, but it is really the book she deserves. It's all here, the public occasions and ceremonies, the baffling indirections of court diplomacy, the knots and ravels of an intense family life. Elizabeth II, 70 this month, has reigned 44 long years, years spent largely in public. Her lifetime assignment is to be the embodiment of the monarchy, and at that she is impeccable--serene, stately...
...letting his camera show, then suddenly point their way and snap. What he found each time was a look of troubled introspection, the face as an anatomy of melancholy. Their eyes are veiled. Bits of jewelry bristle around their necks and ears in defensive perimeters. Yet while all background detail has been excluded from these pictures--the head fills almost the entire frame--they still hint at something about the larger world. What they tell you is that every crowd is the sum of its brooding enclosures, that city life is a jam session of personal discontents...