By then, she had been the close companion and lover of the writer and philosopher, Voltaire, for thirteen years. For her time - and by today's standards - she was a woman of exceptional talents, abilities, and qualities. Tutored in maths, sciences, and the arts from a young age, she pursued these passions as an adult. At her château at Cirey, near Lorraine, she shared a deep love and passion with Voltaire, as well as a taste for the arts and sciences. Together, they conducted experiments in science and optics, and both submitted essays on the nature of fire to a competition held by the French Royal Academy of Sciences. Neither won a prize but both essays were subsequently published. She was just as fascinated by the complexity of human emotions, and in these reflections on happiness she applies her incisive, analytical mind to such passions as sexual desire, the pursuit of glory, and ambition. She has many interesting and insightful things to say. However, she is no detached or aloof intellectual but writes openly from her own experiences, sharing with us her joys, pleasures and miseries. Her human weaknesses are revealed for all to see, making her all the more endearing and sympathetic. Although not written for publication but as private musings, this essay seems, nevertheless, intended for would-be readers. She alludes frequently to those who are younger and less experienced, and who might 'save time' by listening to what she has to say. She is less than positive about what the future might hold for her, or any woman, after forty, speaking of study as compensation rather than the great voyage of discovery that she, herself, had known. She writes in a state of dejection, having no inkling that within two years she would have a passionate affair with the poet, Saint-Lambert, twelve years her junior, and that she would give birth to his child. This great passion was to be her last as, already in poor health, she would die within weeks of the birth, the child out-living her by a year and a half. In her final year, while pregnant, she completed her greatest work, a translation from Latin into French of Isaac Newton's Principia Mathematica, complete with her commentary and a few hypotheses of her own about light, inspired by Newton's great work and subsequently validated. Her translation of Newton's work was published within ten years of her death and remains, today, the standard French translation. Though writing during the French Enlightenment, and clearly influenced by such near-contemporaries as the English philosopher, John Locke, she has much to say about happiness and its attainment to interest the modern reader, of whatever age, sex, or culture. Some, of course, will be shocked by her unashamed commendation of sensual pleasures, always tempered by her rationality and her emphasis on maximizing the sum total of human happiness. She was fully aware that the rules by which women, in French and other societies, are expected to live are not the same as those applied to men. Some of her advice is thus directed specifically at women. Whether or not this advice to women remains valid and helpful today is for the individual reader to decide.

    Who knew that he also was a pivotal figure in the development of the airplane, the hydrofoil, genetic engineering, and more? Charlotte Gray does, and she tells us how and why she brought to life the passionate mind and heart of the man behind so many amazing ideas and innovations. --Lauren Nemroff Some Questions for Charlotte Gray [image] 1. Most people picture Alexander Graham Bell as that grandfatherly looking man with a long white beard who invented the telephone. What's wrong with that image? The image of Alexander Graham Bell as a kindly Santa Claus figure is the one we all know: It is as familiar as the one of Einstein with his hair in a frizzy grey mass. But when Alexander Graham Bell was struggling to invent the telephone, he was a skinny, clean-shaven, neurotically intense young man and a hypochondriac, with obsessive work habits and a very volatile nature. Reading his letters and journals, I was shocked to discover how often he would ricochet between euphoria and depression. Invention was Alexander Graham Bell's passion, but I frequently wondered whether, if he had not had an early success and the right wife, his difficult personality would have prevented him achieving anything. I think it is important to revise the grandfatherly stereotype of Bell in order to show that invention is difficult, and inventors are not easy, placid people to live with. 2. In what way does Bell's genius different from other inventors of his age, such as Thomas Edison or the Wright brothers? The wonderful thing about the inventions of such nineteenth century giants as Bell, Edison and the Wright brothers is that, with a little bit of effort, even those of us who never did Grade 12 physics can actually understand how their inventions worked. One could never say that about today's microelectronic technology. Intuition and imagination were all crucial for the breakthroughs made by Edison, the Wright brothers and Bell. However, what sets Bell apart from Edison and the Wright brothers was that he didn't have an entrepreneurial bone in his body. He was more like a holdover from the eighteenth century Enlightenment, while the others were go-getting twentieth-century hustlers. Edison was always looking for financial backers; he announced his breakthroughs before he had even built working prototypes; he was one of the first inventors to put together a real R and D team at a purpose-built laboratory, at Menlo Park. He understood that invention is, in his own words, "One percent inspiration, ninety percent perspiration." Similarly the Wright Brothers were eager to make money out of their flying machines. They refused to share their technological breakthroughs, guarded their patents fiercely, and wouldn't give any demonstrations to the public of their biplanes. Bell was the opposite--totally absorbed in extending the frontiers of knowledge, and completely careless about commercial exploitation of his ideas. 3. Is it true that "necessity is the mother of invention" or is it something else? Invention has many mothers - the right materials, a widespread understanding that this will improve the world in some way, the right individual to pursue the elusive dream. In the case of the telephone, one can argue that there was no overwhelming necessity for a new form of communication: the telegraph had been working well for 30 years, and only a few people realized that a device that could carry the human voice, rather than the Morse code, would pull people together in a revolutionary way. As soon as telephones appeared in the market, their advantages were obvious. But there was still incredible resistance. In Britain, the upper classes were slow to acquire telephones because they posed a class issue: who should answer them? Everybody knew that, in a house with servants, the servant answered the door when the telegraph boy rang the bell. But should master or servant speak on the phone? The democratic nature of the telephone--anybody could use it, not just qualified operators--also shackled its spread. In Russia after the revolution, Stalin is said to have vetoed the idea of a modern telephone system. "It will unmake our work," the dictator decreed. "No greater instrument for counter-revolution and conspiracy can be imagined." So did necessity drive the invention of the telephone? No--when Bell first started speculating on its impact, people thought he was mad. But it quickly became a total necessity…imagine life without electronic communication today! 4. It was amazing to learn that Bell's mother and his wife were both deaf, and that from an early age he was immersed in research on the nature of sound and oral communication. How important were these personal relationships in shaping his outlook and inventions? One of my greatest surprises when I started research for Reluctant Genius was the discovery that Bell's first ambition was to be a teacher of the deaf, and that he remained committed to the cause of improved education for the hearing impaired throughout his life. I had no idea of this side of him, or of his long relationship with Helen Keller. The fact that the two most important women in his life, his mother and his wife, were deaf was of crucial importance both to his own work, and to his attitude to others. His respect for their intelligences and personalities meant that, unlike many of his contemporaries, he never assumed that deafness was linked to intellectual disability. Moreover, his scientific interest in their condition informed his telephone research. Because he knew why their ears didn't work, he understood how sound should reach the brain in a hearing person's ear, through the ear drum. None of his competitors made that intuitive leap. Their early attempts to build working telephones were foiled because they didn't include the diaphragm that mimicked the action of the ear drum, and which was the key feature of Bell's first phone. Lastly, Bell was also fascinated by the intergenerational transmission of deafness. This led to his research on genetics in general - and the program he initiated at his summer home, in Cape Breton, to breed a flock of "super sheep" that would always have twin births. 5. Bell's wife, Mabel Hubbard Bell, was a remarkable person in her own right. Why was it so important to tell her story? Too often, biographies of "Great Men" suggest they achieved everything by their own efforts. A few did, of course, but most depended on the support and encouragement of others--parents, partners, associates--to provide the right environment in which they could achieve their goals. Behind every great man….This was the case with Alexander Graham Bell. He would always have had his "Eureka Moment", in the summer of 1874, when he realized how a "talking telegraph" might work. But without Mabel, we probably would never have heard of him. He would not have patented the invention or found the business partners who helped him moved his invention from the laboratory to the market place. Mabel's father, Gardiner Hubbard, was his patent lawyer: Mabel herself ensured that he went to the Philadelphia Exposition, in 1876, to demonstrate his new apparatus. In later years, Mabel provided all kinds of other practical help, in ensuring that her exasperating husband could focus on his inventions. She handled the financial side of their marriage: she found qualified young men who could help him work on his flying machines: she was always cheering him up and stroking his ego when he got depressed. And she created, along with their two daughters, a warm family environment which gave balance to Bell's life - and which so many of his contemporaries, including Thomas Edison, never enjoyed. I was determined to give Mabel her due in the story of Bell. I found her such an attractive and intriguing figure. She was stone deaf, ten years younger than her husband, and their relationship began as a teacher-student one. It would be easy to assume that this brilliant, world famous man would be the dominant figure in the relationship. In fact, the reverse is true. 6. What do you think Bell would think of cell phones, the internet and other wireless means of communication? Bell himself anticipated "electric communication": he was very frustrated by how long it took for a letter from Nova Scotia to reach Europe. I'm sure he would be delighted by the internet. However, he would be appalled by the constant buzz of other technological advances, and the way we've allowed them to trump all other forms of human intercourse. This is a man who wouldn't have a telephone in his own study, because its ring would disturb his train of thought. He was a gracious, well-mannered man who would have been horrified by the way many of us let our cell phones to interrupt our face-to-face conversations. And if somebody pulled out a Blackberry and started punching into it while Bell was speaking of him--well, Alec would have muttered, "Shee-e-esh" (the nearest he ever got to swearing) and stomped out of the room. 7. What was the most exciting research discovery that you made? As a biographer, I have to say that my most exciting discovery was the wealth of material I had to work with. Because Alexander Graham Bell could never speak to his wife on the telephone, he and Mabel exchanged long, intimate, colourful letters whenever they were apart--and that was often. I was thrilled to discover, at the Alexander Graham Bell Historic Site in Baddeck, Nova Scotia, 180 three-ring binders of family correspondence (another set is housed at the Library of Congress, Washington.) These letters let me explore the inner-workings of the mind of a genius, and of a remarkable marriage, in a way that I had hardly dared hope for. I was also amazed at the range of Bell's activities. The telephone, the photophone (which sent sounds down beams of light), an early iron lung, a desalination process for salt water, flying machines, hydrofoils, genetic experiments…his scientific interests were enormously varied. And at the same time, he was doing so much else, for example with the Smithsonian Institute, and the National Geographic Society. And throughout his career, there was his long-running commitment to deaf education. It was hard not to be overwhelmed! 8. What are you working on right now? Yes, I'm already launched on my next biography. (In fact, I find it very hard not to start my next book before the previous one is even in the stores--I have a psychological need to live both my own life and someone else's!) My next project is a short biography of Nellie McClung, the Canadian author and political activist.

    This was especially true in the news business, a backwater of male chauvinism where a woman might be lucky to get a foothold on the “women’s pages.” But when a pioneering nonprofit called National Public Radio came along in the 1970s, and the door to serious journalism opened a crack, four remarkable women came along and blew it off the hinges.Susan, Linda, Nina, and Cokie is journalist Lisa Napoli’s captivating account of these four women, their deep and enduring friendships, and the trail they blazed to becoming icons. They had radically different stories. Cokie Roberts was born into a political dynasty, roamed the halls of Congress as a child, and felt a tug toward public service. Susan Stamberg, who had lived in India with her husband who worked for the State Department, was the first woman to anchor a nightly news program and pressed for accommodations to balance work and home life. Linda Wertheimer, the daughter of shopkeepers in New Mexico, fought her way to a scholarship and a spot on-air. And Nina Totenberg, the network's legal affairs correspondent, invented a new way to cover the Supreme Court. Based on extensive interviews and calling on the author’s deep connections in news and public radio, Susan, Linda, Nina, and Cokie will be as beguiling and sharp as its formidable subjects.

    Hatshepsut, the daughter of a general who took Egypt's throne without status as a king’s son and a mother with ties to the previous dynasty, was born into a privileged position of the royal household. Married to her brother, she was expected to bear the sons who would legitimize the reign of her father’s family. Her failure to produce a male heir was ultimately the twist of fate that paved the way for her inconceivable rule as a cross-dressing king. At just twenty, Hatshepsut ascended to the rank of king in an elaborate coronation ceremony that set the tone for her spectacular twenty-two year reign as co-regent with Thutmose III, the infant king whose mother Hatshepsut out-maneuvered for a seat on the throne. Hatshepsut was a master strategist, cloaking her political power plays with the veil of piety and sexual expression. Just as women today face obstacles from a society that equates authority with masculinity, Hatshepsut had to shrewdly operate the levers of a patriarchal system to emerge as Egypt's second female pharaoh.Hatshepsut had successfully negotiated a path from the royal nursery to the very pinnacle of authority, and her reign saw one of Ancient Egypt’s most prolific building periods. Scholars have long speculated as to why her images were destroyed within a few decades of her death, all but erasing evidence of her rule. Constructing a rich narrative history using the artifacts that remain, noted Egyptologist Kara Cooney offers a remarkable interpretation of how Hatshepsut rapidly but methodically consolidated power—and why she fell from public favor just as quickly. The Woman Who Would Be King traces the unconventional life of an almost-forgotten pharaoh and explores our complicated reactions to women in power.

    The remarkable women of the White House, often neglected by history, had a heavy hand in the shaping of America. The earliest First Ladies of the United States left countless untold legacies behind after their role at the White House was over.Decidedly different from their modern day counterparts, the nation's first presidential wives made their impact not in terms of political policy or broad social and civic service, but instead with unique, personal, and often long-lasting accomplishments."Read the unforgettable stories of how: "Martha Washington set the tone for First Ladies and walked the fine line between royal pretention and republican accessibility.Sarah Polk worked diligently, constantly giving the high office her utmost attention.Julia Grant not only adapted to the ups and downs of her husband's political career, but flourished wherever she landed.And it was Nellie Taft's ambition that ultimately led her husband to the presidency.

    But this was far from the only difference between him and his predecessors. Neither of the previous Georges was faithful to his wife, nor to his mistresses. Both hated their own sons. And, overall, their children were angry, jealous, and disaffected schemers, whose palace shenanigans kick off Hadlow's juicy narrative and also made their lives unhappy ones.Pained by his childhood amid this cruel and feuding family, George came to the throne aspiring to be a new kind of king—a force for moral good. And to be that new kind of king, he had to be a new kind of man. Against his irresistibly awful family background—of brutal royal intrigue, infidelity, and betrayal—George fervently pursued a radical domestic dream: he would have a faithful marriage and raise loving, educated, and resilient children.The struggle of King George—along with his wife, Queen Charlotte, and their 15 children—to pursue a passion for family will surprise history buffs and delight a broad swath of biography readers and royal watchers.

    During the following ten years they were lovers, worked closely together and she became mother to two of his children, Claude and Paloma. Life with Picasso, her account of those extraordinary years, is filled with intimate and astonishing revelations about the man, his work, his thoughts and his friends - Matisse, Braque, Gertrude Stein and Giacometti, among others. Francois Gilot paints a compelling portrait of her turbulent life with the temperamental (and even abusive) genius that was Picasso. As one of the few intimate witnesses to Picasso as a human being and as an artist, her account of him is invaluable for assessing him on both counts.

    Vladimir Nabokov) brings to shimmering life one of the greatest literary love stories of our time. Vladimir Nabokov--the émigré author of Lolita; Pale Fire; and Speak, Memory--wrote his books first for himself, second for his wife, Véra, and third for no one at all."Without my wife," he once noted, "I wouldn't have written a single novel." Set in prewar Europe and postwar America, spanning much of the century, the story of the Nabokovs' fifty-two-year marriage reads as vividly as a novel. Véra, both beautiful and brilliant, is its outsized heroine--a woman who loves as deeply and intelligently as did the great romantic heroines of Austen and Tolstoy. Stacy Schiff's Véra is a triumph of the biographical form.

    As Tori Telfer reveals in Confident Women, the art of the con has a long and venerable tradition, and its female practitioners are some of the best—or worst.In the 1700s in Paris, Jeanne de Saint-Rémy scammed the royal jewelers out of a necklace made from six hundred and forty-seven diamonds by pretending she was best friends with Queen Marie Antoinette.In the mid-1800s, sisters Kate and Maggie Fox began pretending they could speak to spirits and accidentally started a religious movement that was soon crawling with female con artists. A gal calling herself Loreta Janeta Velasquez claimed to be a soldier and convinced people she worked for the Confederacy—or the Union, depending on who she was talking to. Meanwhile, Cassie Chadwick was forging paperwork and getting banks to loan her upwards of $40,000 by telling people she was Andrew Carnegie’s illegitimate daughter.In the 1900s, a 40something woman named Margaret Lydia Burton embezzled money all over the country and stole upwards of forty prized show dogs, while a few decades later, a teenager named Roxie Ann Rice scammed the entire NFL. And since the death of the Romanovs, women claiming to be Anastasia have been selling their stories to magazines. What about today? Spoiler alert: these “artists” are still conning. Confident Women asks the provocative question: Where does chutzpah intersect with a uniquely female pathology—and how were these notorious women able to so spectacularly dupe and swindle their victims?

    She became a star almost overnight, seducing Paris’s elite and the people of its slums in equal measure with her powerful, passionate voice. No Regrets explores her rise to fame and notoriety, her tumultuous love affairs, and her struggles with drugs, alcohol, and illness, while also drawing on new sources to enhance our knowledge of little-known aspects of her life. Piaf was an unlikely student of poetry and philosophy, who aided Resistance efforts in World War II, wrote the lyrics for nearly one hundred songs (including “La Vie en rose”) and was a crucial mentor to younger singers (including Yves Montand and Charles Aznavour) who absorbed her love of chanson and her exacting approach to their métier.Here is Piaf in her own world—Paris in the first half of the twentieth century—and in ours. Burke demonstrates how, with her courage, her incomparable art, and her universal appeal, “the little sparrow” endures as a symbol of France and a source of inspiration to entertainers worldwide.

    Chandler also spoke with directors, actors, and others who knew and worked with Davis, and includes brief synopses of all of her theatrical films.Here are some more examples of Bette's wit to be found within these pages: "I'm the one who didn't get the man, which is the more interesting character on the screen, but in real life sometimes I wish I could just have been the girl who got the man, and kept him. I got four husbands and several lovers, but I didn't keep any of them. I was invited to the White House, but no man stayed to share my white cottage.""My favorite actor with whom I never played, professionally or personally, was Laurence Olivier. I admired everything about him. He was a great actor, and he was my dream man. Literally and figuratively. Larry was my fantasy lover, the perfect man, or at least I thought he would be. He was not only beautiful, but intelligent."

    In Turing’s Cathedral, George Dyson focuses on a small group of men and women, led by John von Neumann at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, New Jersey, who built one of the first computers to realize Alan Turing’s vision of a Universal Machine. Their work would break the distinction between numbers that mean things and numbers that do things—and our universe would never be the same. Using five kilobytes of memory (the amount allocated to displaying the cursor on a computer desktop of today), they achieved unprecedented success in both weather prediction and nuclear weapons design, while tackling, in their spare time, problems ranging from the evolution of viruses to the evolution of stars. Dyson’s account, both historic and prophetic, sheds important new light on how the digital universe exploded in the aftermath of World War II. The proliferation of both codes and machines was paralleled by two historic developments: the decoding of self-replicating sequences in biology and the invention of the hydrogen bomb. It’s no coincidence that the most destructive and the most constructive of human inventions appeared at exactly the same time.  How did code take over the world? In retracing how Alan Turing’s one-dimensional model became John von Neumann’s two-dimensional implementation, Turing’s Cathedral offers a series of provocative suggestions as to where the digital universe, now fully three-dimensional, may be heading next.

    Brave, independent, and a lifelong rebel against her country's conservative, patriarchal society, Marie-Madeleine Fourcade was temperamentally made for the job. Her group's name was Alliance, but the Gestapo dubbed it Noah's Ark because its agents used the names of animals as their aliases. Marie-Madeleine's codename was Hedgehog.No other French spy network lasted as long or supplied as much crucial intelligence as Alliance--and as a result, the Gestapo pursued them relentlessly, capturing, torturing, and executing hundreds of its three thousand agents, including her own lover and many of her key spies. Fourcade had to move her headquarters every week, constantly changing her hair color, clothing, and identity, yet was still imprisoned twice by the Nazis. Both times she managed to escape, once by stripping naked and forcing her thin body through the bars of her cell. The mother of two young children, Marie-Madeleine hardly saw them during the war, so entirely engaged was she in her spy network, preferring they live far from her and out of harm's way. In Madame Fourcade's Secret War, Lynne Olson tells the tense, fascinating story of Fourcade and Alliance against the background of the developing war that split France in two and forced its citizens to live side by side with their hated German occupiers.

    Each of the world-changing figures who stride across these pages—Joan of Arc, Susanna Wesley, Hannah More, Maria Skobtsova, Corrie ten Boom, Mother Teresa, and Rosa Parks—is an exemplary model of true womanhood. Teenaged Joan of Arc followed God’s call and liberated her country, dying a heroic martyr’s death. Susanna Wesley had nineteen children and gave the world its most significant evangelist and its greatest hymn-writer, her sons John and Charles. Corrie ten Boom, arrested for hiding Dutch Jews from the Nazis, survived the horrors of a concentration camp to astonish the world by forgiving her tormentors. And Rosa Parks’ deep sense of justice and unshakeable dignity and faith helped launch the twentieth-century’s greatest social movement.Writing in his trademark conversational and engaging style, Eric Metaxas reveals how the other extraordinary women in this book achieved their greatness, inspiring readers to lives shaped by the truth of the gospel.

    Socrates was undeniably one of the greatest thinkers of all time, yet he wrote nothing. Throughout his life, and indeed until his very last moment alive, Socrates fully embodied his philosophy in thought and deed. It is through the story of his life that we can fully grasp his powerful actions and ideas.In his highly acclaimed style, historian Paul Johnson masterfully disentangles centuries of scarce sources to offer a riveting account of a homely but charismatic middle-class man living in Athens in the fifth century b.c., and how what this man thought still shapes the way we decide how to act, and how we fathom the notion of body and soul. Johnson provides a compelling picture of the city and people Socrates reciprocally delighted in, as well as many enlightening and intimate analyses of specific aspects of his personality. Enchantingly portraying "the sheer power of Socrates's mind, and its unique combination of steel, subtlety, and frivolity," Paul Johnson captures the vast and intriguing life of a man who did nothing less than supply the basic apparatus of the human mind.