Gary Greenberg opens his new history of depression with a riveting tale of scientific ingenuity.

It is tempting, for those of us with an interest in literary couplehood, to compare Michael Chabon’s new collection of personal essays with his wife’s recent, bestselling memoir on motherhood. Both books examine the couple’s four children, their childrearing philosophies and tactics, their writing, and their marriage.

Why is it that serious food people so often seem to have been born thin and picky? It seems impossible that they go from being chubby little children stuffing themselves with those awful, prepackaged, soggy cone things from the ice cream truck into epicures who find sorbet a necessary palate cleanser between courses.

When I moved down to South Texas in 2005, I quickly learned the newly minted gospel of Rio Grande Valley real estate. One, the McAllen metropolitan area was an indisputable boomtown, its growth fueled by NAFTA and ample sunshine. Two, you could live the good life here on the cheap; spacious, tile-roofed houses were continually springing up, generous loans were easy to get, and property values were certain to rise.

It’s become a bit of a coming-of-age tradition for young Americans to spend a college semester abroad, or to travel around Europe or Asia, in the year after high school or college. They go to broaden their horizons and all that, sure, but while away, they also manage to squeeze in plenty of revelry—sex very much included.

Regardless of their stance on abortion, Westerners often have no problem dismissing as backward and misogynistic the practice of routinely aborting female fetuses.