A selection of paperbacks reviewed
Henry Morton Stanley, in his three great African expeditions of the late 19th century, opened the continent's dark heart to exploration and thus, sadly, exploitation. Stanley's expeditions required extraordinary bravery and endurance. The depredations of disease and starvation and the uncertain welcome of local slave-traders and cannibals inflicted a heavy toll. More than even his famous discovery of Dr Livingstone, Stanley's greatest achievement was possibly his epic trans-Africa journey along the untamed Congo River to the Atlantic. Jeal's aim is to restore Stanley's tarnished reputation; he sets out to justify and excuse both his work for King Leopold II of Belgium and his occasional use of violence against the native tribes. Jeal's research is convincing and Stanley emerges as a man wholly moulded by his lonely upbringing in a Welsh orphanage. The great explorer was no politician and was more at home in Africa with his loyal men than in his final years as a reluctant husband and MP.- Tom Moriarty
Animal's People, By Indra Sinha, Pocket Books, £7.99
"I used to be human once." Like everyone in the fictional Indian city of Khaufpur, Animal's life is dominated by "that night" - when a leak at an American chemical factory killed or mutilated the city's inhabitants. His spine so twisted he can only walk on all fours, Animal protests that "the laws of society don't apply to me because I'm such an animal", yet he harbours a secret desire for love - and for sex. "She's the only girl who treats me like normal, which by God I am, and one day I'll prove it . . .". Only the arrival of an enigmatic American doctor forces Animal to face up to his responsibilities as a human being. Deservingly shortlisted for last year's Man Booker Prize, Sinha depicts the realities of slum life - and the horrors of the Bhopal tragedy of 1984 - through a cast of memorable characters. From the Pir Gate beggar, Abdul Saliq, to the crazy nun, Ma Franci - they are all "Animal's People". - Freya McClements
Running the Table: The Legend of Kid Delicious, the Last Great American Pool Hustler, By L Jon Wertheim, Yellow Jersey Press, £8.99
Danny Basavich is a white, lower-middle class kid from New Jersey. He weighs more than 300lb and is of constant genial disposition, despite bouts of severe depression. In his teens, in the 1990s, he discovers he is a genius with a pool cue in his hand. The game is his salvation, helping to keep the black dog at bay. So he hits the road to find fame and fortune - or not. Wertheim is a senior writer with Sports Illustrated (always a good sign), and this is, in effect, an extended magazine feature. Wertheim has a nice line in metaphor and, in Basavich, a fine subject. Quirky, good.- Joe Culley
Skylight Confessions, By Alice Hoffman, Vintage, £7.99
Charm and enchantment - the pleasant kind as well as the drug-induced variety - are not just Hoffman's themes and subjects; her style is also spellbinding. This three-generational novel set in Connecticut and New York, nods towards Emerson's transcendentalism and towards the moral, egalitarian family of Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird. The Moody family of this novel is also of consequence - their house is the renowned, architect-designed Glass Slipper; at a young age the brother and sister lose their beautiful, freckled, red-haired mother and a well-portrayed nanny-figure, Meredith, rears the children. The theme is one of goodness and decency set against the world's rottenness; day-today disconnection is pervasive between the aptly named Moodys - father, John, and son, Sam. However, the dominant mood of optimism and longing is concerned with emotionally arid men being rescued by loving women. Even for readers with a resistance to magic realism, this novel compels you forward through numerous encounters with ghostly manifestations and realistic money troubles. This is a fiction with grip while you are reading it.- Kate Bateman
The Bill from My Father: A Memoir, By Bernard Cooper, Picador, £7.99
A gruff, embittered and irascible old pensioner is the unlikely antihero of this darkly humorous memoir, in which Bernard Cooper sieves through years of unprovoked arguments and awkward encounters with his elderly father, to extract the happier moments in between. As a retired lawyer, full of stubborn pride, Cooper's father thrived on verbal conflict. Seemingly innocuous conversations were soured by comments he misconstrued as insults. And so his son is forced to walk a veritable minefield, to avoid incurring the wrath of a father he loves but clashes with. At one point, after unintentionally wounding his father's pride, the author receives the titular "bill " in the post: a list of all the money his father spent on him throughout his lifetime - both an unwarranted guilt-trip and a metaphor for their dysfunctional relationship. Ostensibly a portrait of an eccentric parent, Cooper's exasperation at his father's erratic behaviour is belied by witty observations on the familial bonds that tie conflicting personalities together. - Kevin Cronin