We live in a world where our livelihood depends on our ability to relate to strangers. The central quality that defines strangers is that they are unknown. Because strangers are unknown, they represent, in the world outside, the unknown self within. The unknown self is the core of the personality considered as a potential to become something yet to be determined. To be already known is to be determined prior to and independently of our presence in our lives. At the outset of the process of taking form, the individual is, in a sense, a stranger to self and to others. The more this is the case, the greater the openness of the process of self-formation and the more marked the role of freedom from predetermination in that process. Freedom from predetermination exists along three dimensions: the free movement of thoughts and ideas or "inner freedom"; the freedom to relate, which is also the freedom not to relate; and freedom in relating, which is the possibility of maintaining secure self-boundaries in relations with others. In exploring freedom understood in this way, Professor Levine considers such topics as: the nature of inner freedom and its relationship to deliberation and choice; stranger anxiety and its connection to group dynamics and social connection; the internal factors that enable us to make the decisions that shape our lives and through our actions realize the ends embedded in our decisions; how our memories shape our thought processes and therefore the choices we make and the lives we lead that result from them; what makes it possible for us to live comfortably with and depend on people we do not know; concern for the welfare of strangers and how our welfare can be secure in a world where we do not care about others and they do not care about us.

The story of man's continental leap of faith and the country that caught him.

A memoir about showbiz in the early 20th century that travels from the theaters of Vienna, Prague, and Berlin, to Hollywood during the golden age, complete with encounters with Franz Kafka, Albert Einstein, and Greta Garbo along the way. Salka Viertel’s autobiography tells of a brilliant, creative, and well-connected woman’s pilgrimage through the darkest years of the twentieth century, a journey that would take her from a remote province of the Austro-Hungarian Empire to Hollywood. The Kindness of Strangers is, to quote the New Yorker writer S. N. Behrman, “a very rich book. It provides a panorama of the dissolving civilizations of the twentieth century. In all of them the author lived at the apex of their culture and artistic aristocracies. Her childhood . . . is an entrancing idyll. In Berlin, in Prague, in Vienna, there appears Karl Kraus, Kafka, Rilke, Robert Musil, Schoenberg, Einstein, Alban Berg. There is the suffering and disruption of the First World War and the suffering and agony after it, which is described with such intimacy and vividness that you endure these terrible years with the author. Then comes the migration to Hollywood, where Salka’s house on Maybery Road becomes a kind of Pantheon for the gathered artists, musicians, and writers. It seems to me that no one has ever described Hollywood and the life of writers there with such verve.”

We live in a world where our livelihood depends on our ability to relate to strangers. The central quality that defines strangers is that they are unknown. Because strangers are unknown, they represent, in the world outside, the unknown self within. The unknown self is the core of the personality considered as a potential to become something yet to be determined. To be already known is to be determined prior to and independently of our presence in our lives. At the outset of the process of taking form, the individual is, in a sense, a stranger to self and to others. The more this is the case, the greater the openness of the process of self-formation and the more marked the role of freedom from predetermination in that process. Freedom from predetermination exists along three dimensions: the free movement of thoughts and ideas or "inner freedom"; the freedom to relate, which is also the freedom not to relate; and freedom in relating, which is the possibility of maintaining secure self-boundaries in relations with others. In exploring freedom understood in this way, Professor Levine considers such topics as: the nature of inner freedom and its relationship to deliberation and choice; stranger anxiety and its connection to group dynamics and social connection; the internal factors that enable us to make the decisions that shape our lives and through our actions realize the ends embedded in our decisions; how our memories shape our thought processes and therefore the choices we make and the lives we lead that result from them; what makes it possible for us to live comfortably with and depend on people we do not know; concern for the welfare of strangers and how our welfare can be secure in a world where we do not care about others and they do not care about us.

Witty, shrewd, and always a joy to read, John Gierach, “America’s best fishing writer” (Houston Chronicle) and favorite streamside philosopher, has earned the following of “legions of readers who may not even fish but are drawn to his musings on community, culture, the natural world, and the seasons of life” (Kirkus Reviews). “After five decades, twenty books, and countless columns, [John Gierach] is still a master” (Forbes). Now, in his latest original collection, Gierach shows us why fly-fishing is the perfect antidote to everything that is wrong with the world. “Gierach’s deceptively laconic prose masks an accomplished storyteller…His alert and slightly off-kilter observations place him in the general neighborhood of Mark Twain and James Thurber” (Publishers Weekly). In Dumb Luck and the Kindness of Strangers, Gierach looks back to the long-ago day when he bought his first resident fishing license in Colorado, where the fishing season never ends, and just knew he was in the right place. And he succinctly sums up part of the appeal of his sport when he writes that it is “an acquired taste that reintroduces the chaos of uncertainty back into our well-regulated lives.” Lifelong fisherman though he is, Gierach can write with self-deprecating humor about his own fishing misadventures, confessing that despite all his experience, he is still capable of blowing a strike by a fish “in the usual amateur way.” “Arguably the best fishing writer working” (The Wall Street Journal), Gierach offers witty, trenchant observations not just about fly-fishing itself but also about how one’s love of fly-fishing shapes the world that we choose to make for ourselves.

“Compelling, essential reading for understanding the underpinnings of psychopathy.” — M. E. Thomas, author of Confessions of a Sociopath For his first fifty-eight years, James Fallon was by all appearances a normal guy. A successful neuroscientist and professor, he’d been raised in a loving family, married his high school sweetheart, and had three kids and lots of friends. Then he learned a shocking truth that would not only disrupt his personal and professional life, but would lead him to question the very nature of his own identity. While researching serial killers, he uncovered a pattern in their brain scans that helped explain their cold and violent behavior. Astonishingly, his own scan matched that pattern. And a few months later he learned that he was descended from a long line of murderers. Fallon set out to reconcile the truth about his own brain with everything he knew as a scientist about the mind, behavior, and personality.