In the end, Monday’s final hearing of the House Jan. 6 committee landed as expected: with criminal referrals of former President Donald Trump to the Justice Department over his actions around the 2021 siege of the U.S. Capitol.

The unprecedented move against an ex-president was historic. The committee of Democrats and anti-Trump Republicans accused him of inciting an insurrection, among other charges. But the referrals are merely advisory, and thus symbolic. The Justice Department, now with a special counsel in place, has already been investigating the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the Capitol by Trump supporters who believed his claim that the 2020 election was stolen from him.

Today, the Democrat-run House Ways and Means Committee voted to release Mr. Trump’s tax returns from the years 2015 to 2020, with an eye toward shedding light on both his personal finances and business dealings.

Where do the latest developments leave Mr. Trump politically? In all likelihood, right where he was before Monday’s criminal referrals. His “MAGA” base – followers of his Make America Great Again ethos – still loves him, while mainstream Republicans see him as a millstone, holding the party back.

“There’s not an easy solution to this, short of Trump being indicted and convicted,” says Doug Heye, former spokesperson for the Republican National Committee. 

John Minchillo/AP/File

Supporters of President Donald Trump participate in a rally in Washington, Jan. 6, 2021. The House select committee investigating the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol has released evidence this week detailing how Mr. Trump riled up the crowd that morning and then failed to intervene for several hours during the ensuing violence at the Capitol.

Trump defenders counter that he has a unique ability to thrive amid adversity, and buck conventional wisdom. Both the Jan. 6 referrals and tax return situation spark cries of “political witch hunt” from supporters. And certainly, the nine-lives quality to his first presidential run showed that he could recover from seemingly disastrous developments – such as the release of damaging audio – and still win. 

Trump’s appeal wearing thin?

Today, Mr. Trump is testing that thesis like never before. He announced his 2024 presidential bid extraordinarily early, and unlike his first campaign, he has a record to run on. By many metrics, his comeback effort has landed with a thud. 

To wit: The ex-president’s Nov. 15 announcement speech was widely panned as “low energy.” The week before, he likely cost Republicans the Senate majority by promoting flawed candidates in key midterm election races. And a recent dinner at his Florida estate with two prominent people who have espoused virulently antisemitic views sparked public outrage – and criticism from allies, including former top economic adviser Larry Kudlow – with no Trump apology. 

Also highly damaging was the former president’s call for “termination” of the U.S. Constitution to address the 2020 election dispute, a statement that outraged many mainstream Republicans. And the recent guilty verdict in New York against the Trump Organization on charges of tax fraud, while not against Mr. Trump himself, serves as a reminder of the former president’s many legal woes – including the case involving classified documents that he kept at Mar-a-Lago after leaving office.

The fact that his daughter Ivanka Trump and son-in-law Jared Kushner – both key advisers in Mr. Trump’s term as president – have announced that they will not participate in a second Trump administration also suggests that this time is different. 

Many rank-and-file Republicans, too, have seen enough, including members of Congress and other elected officials, even if they’re not willing to say so publicly. This emerging consensus leaves party leaders with a profound dilemma: how to steer Mr. Trump into an emeritus role, simultaneously keeping his core base inside the GOP tent while also giving way to a new Republican standard-bearer – say, Gov. Ron DeSantis of Florida. 

“Given Trump’s political failures and legal issues, I think he’s in deep trouble,” says Joe DiSarro, a retired political science professor at Washington & Jefferson College in Pennsylvania and former member of the state Republican committee. 

Professor DiSarro blames Mr. Trump for hand-picking Dr. Mehmet Oz, a TV celebrity with no prior political experience, for the Republican nomination to Pennsylvania’s open GOP-held Senate seat. Dr. Oz, who lost to Democrat John Fetterman, ran a “terrible campaign,” he says.

Still, Professor DiSarro adds, Mr. Trump’s legacy will live on. “Trumpism or populism will continue to be a significant force in American politics,” he says, noting middle-class struggles, high inflation, and looming recession. This mode of thought – “Trumpism without Trump” – is evident in the latest polls, which show Republican voters increasingly opposed to another Trump presidential run but supporting many of his policies.  

Andrew Harnik/AP/File

Former President Donald Trump speaks to guests at Mar-a-Lago on Election Day, Nov. 8, 2022, in Palm Beach, Florida. Poor results for candidates that he backed in the midterm elections, as well as legal challenges, are among reasons many in the Republican Party prefer "Trumpism without Trump" to the prospect of having the former president as their presidential nominee in 2024.

An avid base of supporters

To be sure, Mr. Trump still has his champions within the party. One former senior Trump administration official, who asked that his name be withheld so he could speak freely, acknowledges that Mr. Trump’s effort at a comeback is an unusual enterprise, beginning with its unprecedentedly early start, small leadership team, and lack of campaign events so far. But he calls this “classic Trump.” 

“If you say to Trump, ‘Here’s how it’s done,’ his answer is invariably, ‘I’m not going to do it that way,’” the former official says.

At the grassroots level, die-hard Trump supporters are as avid as ever.

“The ‘Criminal Referrals’ from the January 6th Committee have no evidentiary basis and are just a blatant political attack,” says Tom Zawistowski, president of the We the People Convention in Akron, Ohio, in an email.  “Even if the DOJ is corrupt enough to take the case to court in the totally biased DC Courts and convict Trump, we will consider it totally illegitimate.”

Mr. Trump is reportedly set to unveil his campaign website this week and embark on a series of small policy events, rather than his signature larger rallies, which will come later. 

Of course, Mr. Trump’s post-announcement activities could all be a pose, some Republican observers suggest. Maybe he isn’t even really running, they say, noting that by declaring his candidacy early it might help him fend off criminal investigations by making legal moves against him look political – and could give other potential Republican presidential challengers pause about jumping in.

Indeed, no other major Republicans have announced yet for president, but that’s likely because it’s early, not because they’re afraid to challenge Mr. Trump. 

Polls show Republicans are increasingly ready for a fresh face to lead the party: Only 31% of GOP and GOP-leaning voters want Mr. Trump to run again, according to the latest USA Today/Suffolk University survey.

Little precedent for losing and then running again

But despite all of Mr. Trump’s challenges, when it comes to the 2024 presidential race, nobody is counting him out. 

“There’s no road map for this,” says Mr. Heye, including the fact that Mr. Trump is the first president in the modern era to lose reelection, then run again to regain the office. 

The only American to win nonconsecutive terms as president was Grover Cleveland, in the late 1800s. 

In the early 1900s, President Theodore Roosevelt tried and failed to stage a comeback after leaving office, running as a third-party candidate. The possibility that Mr. Trump might run as an independent if he loses the GOP nomination scares Republicans, who fear he could split the GOP vote and elect the Democrat.

But, political analysts say, Mr. Trump’s chances as a Republican cannot be ruled out, given his pull with a significant portion of the GOP electorate. His recent sale of digital trading cards of himself dressed in various guises – as a superhero, astronaut, and NASCAR driver – sold out quickly at $99 apiece, earning himself (not his campaign) $4.5 million. 

“Trump starts off with a huge advantage in terms of name recognition and money in the bank – not his own money, but money from 2020 and money that he’s raising now,” says Shana Kushner Gadarian, a political scientist at Syracuse University. “So there is absolutely the case that he could be the nominee.”

The view from Iowa and New Hampshire

Party activists in the states that will launch the 2024 Republican nominating process speak carefully when it comes to Mr. Trump. 

“We’re going to treat all the candidates equally and fairly,” says Chris Ager, a Republican National Committee member from New Hampshire, which will hold the first GOP primary. “At this point, President Trump will be a candidate just like other prospective candidates. No presumption of front-runner status or preferential treatment. It’s a meritocracy.”

In Iowa, where Republicans still plan to hold nominating caucuses early in 2024, unlike the Democrats, voters are still waiting to see who’s running, says Connie Schmett, a GOP precinct chair in suburban Des Moines. 

“People liked [Mr. Trump’s] policies, but they’re a little bit hesitant on his outspoken vocabulary,” Ms. Schmett says. And, she adds, “there are individuals who say he’d be more respected if he helped other candidates,” and didn’t run himself. 

The idea of Mr. Trump playing a supporting role in 2024, rather than trying to regain the presidency, appeals to many Republicans, given his high negatives. But for now, Mr. Trump is on the ballot.

Editor's note: A sentence in this article was updated to reflect that the expected vote by the House Ways and Means Committee occurred, to release Mr. Trump’s tax returns.

A year ago, Simret Tekele stood in front of the sliding glass doors at Toronto’s international airport and took a deep breath as she stepped into Canada – the final passage of an immigration journey that had begun in 2009, when she and her husband fled their native Eritrea.

This December, she stood on the other side of those doors holding her breath until a teenager in a black hoodie walked through. She grabbed the son she hadn’t touched since he was an infant – she’d left him in the care of her mother until she could get safely to Israel. But shunned in that country, parents and son were kept apart. They missed watching him grow into a toddler, a small child, and an awkward middle schooler. Now he’s in high school.

“It felt like a dream at the airport,” says Ms. Tekele. “I was trying to process my feelings. Is this real? Am I really seeing him? I had mixed feelings. I was very happy. And, when we came home, I was very, very sad, you know? He’s my son, but I didn’t raise him.”

The Christian Science Monitor first met the family – parents, and their two boys born in Israel – in Tel Aviv in 2021. Correspondent Dina Kraft joined them as they packed up their home and said goodbye to a nation that left asylum-seeking Africans like them in a vulnerable state of limbo without refugee status. Fortunate ones, like Ms. Tekele’s family, have been able to move to Canada thanks to the mobilization of the Jewish Canadian community here, which we featured in a cover story in January.

Sara Miller Llana/The Christian Science Monitor

Simret Tekele's three boys watch television after school in Toronto Dec. 2022. They had never met before. Yuel (far left) was separated from his family after his parents escaped Eritrea and left him as an infant with his grandmother. They were only able to reunite by becoming refugees in Canada.

I first met the Orthodox Christian family at Hanukkah dinner in Toronto last year. At the time, Ms. Tekele was expecting her teenage son Yuel, raised by his grandmother and an aunt, to arrive within two weeks. Then that turned to two months, and the weeks ticked on. A year to the exact date after the rest of his family entered Canada, Yuel arrived, on Dec. 1.

He got to Canada just in time for the holidays, and the family has decorated the tidy, two-bedroom apartment that their sponsors helped them secure – as part of Canada’s private refugee sponsorship program – with an artificial tree decorated with a simple string of lights. 

The holidays are a time of year when most parents around the world wish their kids would just show some gratitude. But, Ms. Tekele wishes Yuel wouldn’t.

One week after his arrival, the busy working mother made her three boys a dish of rice and meat. She could tell Yuel didn’t like it because he was pushing it around on his plate. “The other kids say, ‘Oh, this is not good, we don’t like it!’ But he doesn’t tell me. I ask him, ‘I think you don’t like the food?’ And he said, ‘It’s OK.’ I said ‘No, if you don’t like it, you don’t like it. That’s OK. You can tell me,’” she says. “It looks small, but it’s big to me. It’s very big to me,” Ms. Tekele says.

“I want him to feel very open with me. The others shout, ask for whatever they want. I want him to be like them.”

“Abnormal” but “the same”

Immigration almost always entails heartbreak, leaving a homeland because of poverty or war, and most wrenching, sometimes separating young children from their families. From Afghan teens heading to Europe alone, to Central Americans leaving children behind as they head to the U.S., it’s the kind of separation that families in wealthy nations cannot begin to fathom.

At the airport, Ms. Tekele saw a family holding a sign reading, “Mom, we missed you.” She asked them how long it had been since they had last seen her. “A month, a month!” she says, bursting into laughter. “I told them I haven’t seen my son in 13 years.”

Because of their precarious immigration status, they couldn’t leave Israel or bring Yuel to them. Then his exit visa was delayed because of war in Ethiopia, where he had moved to await resettlement in Canada. “It’s abnormal. It’s abnormal but when I share with my community my story, it’s the same. Thousands and thousands of people are in the same situation.”

Family reunification can provoke complicated emotions. Yuel agrees to talk, with his mother translating, but he tells her not to exaggerate. He says he misses everything about Ethiopia. Even the pizza is better there, he says, making his mother laugh (which he does easily).

But when he leaves the table, she turns more serious. “It was my mom and my sister that showed him the way, taught him, I was not in this process. Now he’s a teenager. Now I’m just trying to understand what I have to say, what I don’t have to say. I’m very careful until I know him,” she says.

“On his side, he wants to understand who we are. He’s discovering.”

Her other two boys have adapted well to life in Canada, finding a place for themselves in their area school, at the local swimming pool, and on various soccer teams. The middle one, who was the big brother for the first 10 years of his life, grumbles about his older brother now being “the boss.” When pizza arrives, Yuel tells him to “be patient.” But they’ve accepted a new brother who now shares a room with them.

As we talk, Ms. Tekele brews strong Eritrean coffee on a little stove set up in the middle of their living room, the three boys sprawled out after school in front of the television.

“When I see them all sitting together, I feel that the family’s whole now,” she says. They are watching English Premier League soccer and then start to argue – in Tigrinya and some Hebrew. Many parents might be annoyed to have their children fighting in front of a guest.

Ms. Tekele simply beams.

Isabelle de Pommereau

André Nicke is director of the Uckermark Theater in Schwedt, Germany, and wants residents to use dialogue, not protest, to envision a future for the refinery-dependent town that looks beyond the Russian oil embargo.

On a wintry evening in late November, protesters gather in the plaza outside the Uckermark Theater to demonstrate against government plans to cut off the supply of Russian oil to the PCK refinery, located just a mile up the road.

It’s a critical issue, and not just for locals. Ural crude has flowed uninterrupted from 3,000 miles away since 1963, providing Berlin, eastern Germany, and part of Poland with almost all its gasoline, jet fuel, and heating oil, plus jobs for thousands whose salaries in turn fuel businesses from bakeries to the theater. So the threat to the refinery has drawn protesters brandishing peace flags and anti-sanctions banners into the cold night.

But inside the large, blocky theater, a bigger group is engaged in a different exercise in participatory democracy. In one of a series of public discussions organized by theater director André Nicke, residents are not just voicing their displeasure with government policy, but are discussing their distress and questions about their town together with experts and key decision-makers. In doing so, they are formulating plans for their town’s future – particularly a future that doesn’t include oil.

“I want to give you courage and confidence,” Mr. Nicke tells the gathering. “This transformation could be a win for the region.”

A refinery town

Schwedt owes much to the PCK refinery. After the Red Army’s advance decimated Schwedt in the last days of World War II, workers who built the refinery helped it rise again, transforming the village into a model “socialist city.” After painful restructuring in the years following German reunification, the resulting leaner, more modern refinery helped the fragile region regain stability and self-confidence.

But in recent years, Russian energy giant Rosneft has taken an increasingly large ownership share of PCK, becoming its main shareholder after the annexation of Crimea in 2014. That set off alarm bells in Brussels and Berlin when Russia invaded Ukraine on Feb. 24 of this year, as what had been a symbol of the ties between Russia and the former East turned into a dangerous dependence that Berlin sought to cut.

Berlin’s decision to align with the European Union’s Russian oil embargo stirred up resentments that had been lurking in the former East Germany since reunification, as Schwedt residents felt their well-being was being sacrificed for others’ benefit once again – this time, for Ukrainians and a war they didn’t want. In June, 4,000 residents swarmed Schwedt’s old city in protest.

Berlin in September pledged help to PCK workers with a two-year job guarantee for the 1,200 refinery employees and a generous “future package” for the city and the region. But street protests continued, often evolving into a more diffuse anti-government, pro-Russia movement of discontent.

Isabelle de Pommereau

Since 1963, crude oil from central Russia has flowed uninterrupted into the PCK refinery, in Schwedt, providing eastern Germany and part of Poland with gasoline, jet fuel, and heating oil, as well as jobs for thousands around Schwedt whose salaries in turn fuel local business from bakeries to the theater.

Mr. Nicke, who grew up in the town of Bautzen in the former German Democratic Republic, says he understands the anxieties that Schwedt residents feel. “People are fighting for their existence once again,” he says, adding that the socialist years and the upheavals of reunification left many feeling deeply mistrustful of authorities and unused to the ways of representative democracy.

So as the Russian war in Ukraine plunged Schwedt into yet another crisis and people vented their anger on the streets, he launched Future Now – public debates open to everyone, held on the stage of his theater – as a way to turn that stress into something constructive. “If you want to know what the future holds, you have to shape it yourself,” he says to the attendees that November night.

“It is us talking with Schwedt”

Seated in chairs in front of the stage or around small tables, roughly 250 residents listen to, and ask questions of, the invited guests, who have ranged from academics to activists to politicians. Tonight, the lineup includes Schwedt’s mayor, the CEO of the refinery, officials from the state and federal government, and one of the organizers of protests in Schwedt.

Mic in hand, Mr. Nicke as moderator goes from guest to guest with questions: Would the refinery work at full capacity after Jan. 1? When would the research for “green” hydrogen actually start? Residents too could vent their concerns via a mic passed around the theater. Past sessions had seen lively discussions and shouting matches, but today, it is mostly concrete, constructive themes that prevail.

People point out Schwedt’s assets beyond the refinery: a national park on the Oder River, a paper factory, and plans to turn the oil refinery into a “green refinery” using green hydrogen.

“The worst in a crisis situation is to be left alone with your fears,” says Sasha Kunkel, a young engineer. “Here, it’s not others talking about Schwedt, it is us talking with Schwedt.”

Anke Grodon, the head of the town museum, pleads for understanding toward older generations, who make up a significant portion of the protesters’ ranks. She says residents often attend protest rallies “because they don’t know how else to express themselves.” Creating alternatives is good, but “you can’t reset yourself with the click of a mouse.”

Meanwhile, resident Konstanze Fischer relates how she and her husband helped save a dilapidated music school from demolition after reunification by creating a citizens initiative – and how that experience motivated her to organize street protests in June.

“We saw that when you get involved, you can shake things up,” she says. When news of the oil embargo came, “we instinctively felt that we had to get involved.”

Here, at Future Now, she praises those who came forward. “I feel we’ve achieved something,” she says.

Fighting mistrust with dialogue

If Schwedt was in more progressive southwest Germany, a gathering like Future Now would be nothing unusual. But, in Germany’s eastern half, where 30 years after reunification, civic involvement remains comparatively rare and protest is often seen as the “best-known, strongest, most trusted form of political articulation,” the forum is breaking new ground, says Steffen Mau, professor for macrosociology at Berlin’s Humboldt University.

The socialist and reunification years left people “change resistant” and mistrustful of authorities, putting local personalities like Mr. Nicke who can articulate a vision for the future and “make the transformation their own” into a crucial role, says Dr. Mau.

But among the small businesses that make up the bulk of the region’s economy, skepticism about the power of dialogue runs deep.

“Talking makes sense as long as both sides are willing to dialogue,” says former Schwedt theater director Reinhard Simon who organized a protest by small-business owners a few days earlier.

Wenke Möllenhoff, who runs her family’s farming business and was a speaker at the small-business demonstration, says that “although dialogue is the right way to go, we shouldn’t give up the pressure so that regular folks can express themselves.” Unlike in Germany’s western half, there is no real solid economic base in the east. “We in the East don’t have much to offer, that’s why people are so afraid,” she says.

Andreas Oppermann, a longtime public television journalist, sees the impending oil embargo as a catalyst for change, both of the economy and of mindsets, that should have started long ago.

After Russian President Vladimir Putin annexed Crimea in 2014, Mr. Oppermann says he tried to report on the dangers of letting Rosneft acquire even more refinery shares. “The oil and gas flew and nobody made a big deal about it,” he says. The region’s relationships with Russia are complex. Many of the engineers who built the refinery were trained in Moscow, and personal ties can be deep, too. The wake-up call is brutal, and dialogue is “eminently crucial, otherwise the mistrust will only grow.”

But Mr. Nicke believes that Schwedt can turn into a “prototype of successful green energy policy.”

“Let us look ahead and say, in 20 years, when we have managed this transformation, when Germany needs innovative technology in the field of green energy, it will be using made-in-Schwedt know-how,” he says. “What we need is to free ourselves from fear and have courage.”

Fiction

Fellowship Point, by Alice Elliott Dark

Alice Elliott Dark’s exquisitely written, utterly engrossing novel “Fellowship Point,” set in Maine’s gorgeous but threatened coastal landscape, explores the beauty and tensions of a lifelong friendship between two women whose choices have taken them down different paths. The result is a deftly woven narrative about caring for the places and people we love, and an affirmation that change and growth are possible at any age. Full review here. 

I Must Betray You, by Ruta Sepetys

“Trust no one,” whispers Cristian Florescu’s beloved grandfather; they’re words to survive by in the fear-fueled Romania of 1989. In her deft portrayal of a teenager turned reluctant informer, Ruta Sepetys makes the case that trust, coupled with selfless courage, is the key to cracking autocratic rule. A well-researched nail-biter, the novel transcends its young adult genre. Full review here. 

Glory, by NoViolet Bulawayo

“Glory” depicts the anguish, absurdity, and grind of life in a fictional African autocracy. Each well-drawn character – from the ancient despot and his sycophants, to the rapacious successor, to exhausted citizens – is an animal. The engrossing allegory delivers a powerful emotional punch, along with keen political and social commentary.

Properties of Thirst, by Marianne Wiggins

Marianne Wiggins’ sweeping novel tells of a California ranching family in the 1940s and the building of Manzanar camp, where Japanese Americans were detained during World War II. A story of family, responsibility, and the tug of heritage, it applauds decency and determination while weighing the roles of individuals in collective wrongs. Full review here.

Recitatif, by Toni Morrison

Toni Morrison’s only short story, “Recitatif,” written in 1980, is a brilliant, provocative experiment that tests readers’ deep-seated racial preconceptions. It’s about two poor girls who room together in a state shelter when they’re 8, and then run into each other years later. One girl is white, the other Black, but Morrison deliberately, masterfully obfuscates which is which. Full review here. 

Remarkably Bright Creatures, by Shelby Van Pelt

An octopus befriends a widow and helps her solve the mystery of her son’s disappearance in Shelby Van Pelt’s feel-good debut novel. The story requires a willingness to throw disbelief overboard, but the author brings together a group of lonely outsiders into the equivalent of a big, communal hug. Full review here. 

Honor, by Thrity Umrigar

In Thrity Umrigar’s engrossing (and sometimes graphic) novel of modern-day India, an interfaith couple, an honor killing, a court case, and an American-born Indian journalist seeking justice all come together in two brave love stories that honor the desire for unconditional acceptance.

Small World, by Jonathan Evison

Jonathan Evison’s Dickensian-style retelling of America’s history is a modern classic. His love for his characters glows in portrayals of Irish and Chinese immigrants, Native Americans, and enslaved people all yearning to belong. The book is a vast yet intimate tale about the American dream, and the people for whom the vision is yet unfulfilled.

Lucy by the Sea, by Elizabeth Strout

At the start of the pandemic, Lucy Barton is whisked from New York City to coastal Maine by her ex-husband, who is concerned for her health. As days stretch into months, Lucy reflects on her life and her daughters, and finds lovingkindness, forgiveness, and healing through nature and new friendship.

Calling for a Blanket Dance, by Oscar Hokeah

Oscar Hokeah brings to life a kaleidoscope of characters from an unforgettable Native American family. His depiction of Indigenous cultures honors their strength of community with remarkable love and healing humor, sending out a vital drumbeat of hope for future generations.

Lessons in Chemistry, by Bonnie Garmus

“Children, set the table. Your mother needs a moment to herself.” It’s 1961, and these brisk, bold words close “Supper at Six,” America’s hit TV cooking show hosted by Elizabeth Zott. Brilliant and determined, the 30-something chemist would rather work in a research lab; the story of why she doesn’t, her efforts to return there, and the social toll of the era’s noxious sexism roils and rivets in this potent debut novel. Full review here. 

Demon Copperhead, by Barbara Kingsolver

Barbara Kingsolver’s beautifully written novel is told in the voice of Damon, nicknamed Demon Copperhead, who struggles first with the failed foster care system and later with opioids, in a small rural community in Appalachia. Ever the survivor, Damon and the other boys learn to rely on one another. “We were our own messed-up little tribe,” he observes. Kingsolver thrusts the reader into the midst of real-world circumstances – especially the opioid epidemic – and she compassionately demands that we not look away. Full review here.

Nonfiction

The Last Slave Ship, by Ben Raines

Ben Raines made headlines in 2019 when he discovered the remains of the Clotilda, the last ship to bring enslaved people to America. His gripping, affecting book chronicles his search for the vessel in the swamps of Alabama and tells the stories of its captive passengers and their descendants. Full review here. 

And There Was Light, by Jon Meacham

The Pulitzer Prize-winning historian’s majestic biography presents Abraham Lincoln as an imperfect man with a strong moral core. Growing and evolving as he struggled to lead the country through calamitous times, the 16th president has ample wisdom for our age. Full review here.

A Man of Iron, by Troy Senik

Grover Cleveland was the only American president to have held office in two non-consecutive terms (1885-89 and 1893-97). Author Troy Senik argues that Cleveland was not only a great man but one of the greatest presidents in U.S. history, a man of unwavering high convictions and rock-solid moral character. Readers might argue with Senik, but they’ll have a blast reading his book – and they might end up agreeing with him. Full review here.

Learning America, by Luma Mufleh

In her riveting debut, Jordanian-born Luma Mufleh describes how her encounter with a group of refugee boys playing soccer in a Georgia parking lot led to her founding of the Fugees Academy schools, which serve refugee children who’ve been resettled in the United States. Full review here. 

After the Romanovs, by Helen Rappaport

One of the effects of the Romanov dynasty’s fall in 1917 was a flood of Russian refugees into Europe, including the arrival of aristocrats, artists, writers, and intellectuals who landed in Paris at the height of the city’s creative ferment. Helen Rappaport tells their stories with marvelous skill and empathy. Full review here. 

The Hawk’s Way, by Sy Montgomery

Sy Montgomery, whose 2010 book “The Soul of an Octopus” made her a favorite of animal-book readers, turns her formidable descriptive passion to hawks and the world of falconry. The book breathes with glorious prose and challenging insights that make it fit to stand alongside classics like T.H. White’s “The Goshawk” or Helen Macdonald’s “H is for Hawk.” Full review here.

Black Snow, by James M. Scott 

In March 1945, a U.S. bombing raid devastated Tokyo. While it may have shortened World War II, more than 100,000 Japanese people – mostly civilians – were killed. Was it justified? James M. Scott raises profound moral questions about the military strategy. Full review here.

Life on the Mississippi, by Rinker Buck

Travel writer Rinker Buck built a flatboat and traveled from Pittsburgh to New Orleans on the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. His goal was to better understand how river transport – for good and ill – made America’s westward expansion possible. Full review here. 

Benjamin Franklin’s Last Bet, by Michael Meyer

In the last days of his life, Benjamin Franklin changed his will and funded a 200-year experiment: He left the cities of Boston and Philadelphia money to be lent to help tradesmen start businesses. In this engaging book, Michael Meyer skillfully weaves together a biography of Franklin and his heirs with the story of what happened to the money. Full review here. 

The King’s Shadow, by Edmund Richardson

In the 1830s, a private in the army of the East India Company wandered into Afghanistan and made a series of breathtaking archaeological discoveries. When the Anglo-Afghan wars broke out, he was imprisoned and his notes were lost. In this thrillerlike nonfiction account, author Edmund Richardson reclaims the legacy of Charles Masson. Full review here. 

A Portrait of the Scientist as a Young Woman, by Lindy Elkins-Tanton

Planetary scientist Lindy Elkins-Tanton tells how she overcame obstacles to lead the NASA mission that will send a rocket to explore the massive asteroid Psyche in 2023. Her beautiful and inspiring memoir illuminates the challenges faced by women in science. Author Q&A here. 

Slaves for Peanuts, by Jori Lewis

Jori Lewis resurrects voices silenced by history in this sumptuous journey beginning in 19th-century Senegal. Traveling down the coast of West Africa, the story sweeps through medieval kingdoms to bustling colonial capitals. By digging through historical archives and oral histories, Lewis unearths a neglected part of the Atlantic slave trade, all wrapped around the humble peanut crop.

Index, A History of the, by Dennis Duncan

Dennis Duncan leads an erudite and entertaining tour of a topic you’ve probably given little thought to, tracing the index from its roots in the ancient world to medieval Europe and up to the computer age. The book is brimming with fun facts but also makes deeper points about how humans create meaning. Full review here. 

Sarah Reingewirtz/The Orange County Register via AP

Carlos Laforteza made his way through the Arts District in downtown Los Angeles, Monday, Dec. 12, 2022. The same day, Mayor Karen Bass declared a state of emergency on homelessness in her first official act.

Each year, the U.S. government does what it calls a point-in-time tally of homelessness. On a single night last January, it counted 582,462 people – some in temporary shelters, others living in their cars or on the streets.

The Biden administration yesterday launched a broad new federal strategy to cut homelessness 25% by 2025. That follows bold new measures introduced in New York and Los Angeles. These plans attempt in different ways to address what officials call the “upstream” causes of homelessness: soaring housing costs, not enough affordable housing, an inadequate minimum wage, unequal access to health care, addiction, mass incarceration, mental health problems, and the full range of social and systemic discrimination.

One developer in Los Angeles has a simpler approach. It is premised on the idea that altruism, as a business model, can build up whole communities as well as unhoused individuals and families. To put that differently, building on social positives may be a shortcut to addressing society’s negatives. In the past seven years, SoLa Impact has built more than 1,500 affordable housing units in underserved communities. An additional 5,000 are planned or under construction. 

Quantity has helped the company cut construction costs. But the key point of progress, founder Martin Muoto describes, has been changing the way investors see minority communities. “When I went into these areas, which are predominantly Black, brown areas,” he recently told NPR, “and as I’ve raised capital, a lot of folks go, boy, that sounds very risky.” The challenge is “to really look at this opportunity objectively and say, look, you can do well while doing good.” 

Providing affordable housing as a remedy for homelessness has been proved effective in cities from Columbus, Ohio, to Helsinki. It recognizes that permanent shelter is a prerequisite to restoring lives derailed by hardship, not the final step. It has been shown to be less expensive and more effective than costly public social safety nets. It honors the dignity of individuals and their inherent capacity for improvement.

“Focusing on the negative and stifled experiences of the homeless invariably produces an incomplete picture, and obscures the creative and resourceful practices that people deploy to deal with their situation,” wrote Johannes Lenhard, a research associate at the Max Planck Cambridge Centre for Ethics, Economy and Social Change, based on a 2018 study of unhoused people in Paris. 

Homelessness, observed Susie Cagle, an editorial cartoonist, in an essay in Aeon in 2015, “has always been more a crisis of empathy and imagination than one of sheer economics.” As city and federal officials grapple anew with the complex web of social ills resulting in homelessness, Mr. Muoto’s work suggests something different: that uplifting unhoused people and the communities around them involves an economics of empathy and imagination.